#I was watching that one episode of raising hope before bed

[bitchapalooza]

Okay this is totally fucking random but I’m like 80% sure Finland would ask Sweden if he wanted to make a sex tape. I’m VERY sure Sweden would disagree to it though, I think he’d be way too embarrassed.

Now Denmark and Norway on the other hand—

[querenciasturniolo]

guest ⮕ m.s.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: swearing, awkward flirting, embarrassment

summary: request

a/n: this was requested by @rainsoakedphoenix, and i had SO much fun writing it (even though it took ages) ! sorry for the mix up, i hope this works 😭💓 i wrote this while watching the new season of heartstopper, which is AMAZING by the way

(this is like 89% dialogue, which i’m sorry if it wasn’t your vision, but i tried my best 🤞🏻)

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

“Good morning campers, and welcome to the Cut the Camera podcast. I’m Nick Sturniolo.”

“I’m Matt Sturniolo.”

“And I’m Chris.”

Your eyes flickered between the three of them, reaching your hands up to adjust your headphones. Nick finally turned his head to you.

“We have a special guest for this episode, introduce yourself.” He said.

You looked at one of the cameras and smiled, lifting your hand to wave.

“Hey, I’m Y/n.” You said, wincing slightly. “Jesus, that was awkward, someone else talk now.” Matt pulled a face, you looking over at him and mocking him playfully.

“Like some of you know, Y/n is one of our good friends from home. She hasn’t been in much of our content because she doesn’t know what the fuck she’s doing, but that’s fine, we love her anyway.” Nick said. You scoffed and leaned back in the diner seat, pulling the mic with you.

“It’s not that I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m just an awkward piece of shit.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “S’not my fault your fans love watching me suffer.”

“Well that turned dark. Anyway, Y/n, why don’t you introduce the topic.” Chris said. You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Today we’re talking about how the four of us met, and how I’ve continued to endure their torture for so long.” You paused, Matt’s jaw slack as he looked over at you. You grinned and shook your head. “No, I’m kidding. They’re pretty great, I’m glad they’ve tortured me for this long.”

Chris scoffed. “You love us and you know it.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what I said, but if you want to get all mushy already, then yes, I love you guys.” You said.

Nick awed next to you, Matt leaning over and bumping your shoulder with his.

“You’ve always been the lovey-dovey one. Y/n has called me at like six o’clock on a random Tuesday before just to tell me she was thinking about me.” Nick said. You covered your face with your hands and groaned.

“God, why must you expose me? Let them think I’m dark and gloomy.” You grumbled.

Matt scoffed then, the audio coming through your headphones clear enough for you to peek an eye through your fingers. “None of them think you’re dark and gloomy, they’ve seen you in videos before, dude. Accept the fact that you’re a softy.” He teased, your jaw practically hitting the floor.

The conversation went on like this for about twenty minutes, the four of you talking and bickering back and forth. The conversation ran off the tracks quite a few times, and Matt tried reeling it back in as best as possible.

“So, back to the topic at hand—”

“Nick, what did you say?” Chris asked, completely cutting Matt off.

“I was just saying that was bullshit.” Nick said.

“Guys, what are we even—”

“How is what I just said bullshit?” Chris asked, the both of them in their own little world.

Matt sighed and looked at you, shrugging his shoulders. You turned to face him fully, resting your arm on the back of the booth. “So anyway, what’s an average day in the life of Matt Sturniolo?” You asked. Matt frowned and adjusted himself to face you completely.

“What?” He asked, pulling the mic towards him.

“What’s an average day in your life?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows.

Matt’s frown relaxed as he thought, shrugged, and finally spoke. “I’d say; wake up, shower, eat, go to meetings, come home, go to bed, repeat.” He held his hands out to count on his fingers, your eyebrows raising as you listened, no emotion on your face.

“Wow, riveting.”

Matt scoffed and shook his head, opening his hands and gesturing them towards you. “Please, tell me about your extraordinary day to day schedule, I’d love to hear it.”

“Of course you would. I happen to have a day packed full of important tasks.” You said, lifting your chin sarcastically.

“Oh, really? Name one.” He said, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, I work.” You started, Matt nodding and pursing his lips.

“Oh, you work, do you? And what do you do after that?” He asked, your eyebrows lifting and your jaw going slack.

“Well, if you must know, after work I go home and eat and then shower and go to bed.” You said matter of factly, Matt staring at you completely unamused.

“That has got to be the most boring play-by-play I’ve ever heard.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, and yours was better, Matt?”

“I think so. What do you do for work?” He asked, the corner of his lips turned up in a half smile.

You sighed and shrugged your shoulders. “Retail. It’s not the most glorious job, but it gets the bills paid.”

“Yikes, customer service.” He winced, to which you shrugged your shoulders again.

“Like I said, not the most glorious job. I deal with a lot of dickheads, but the regulars are nice.” You said, grabbing your cup and taking a sip of it. You jutted your chin at him. “It’s your turn to ask a question, I don’t think they’re gonna stop any time soon.”

Matt hummed and thought for a moment. “Um, what’s your favorite color?”

“That’s really the best you could come up with, Matt?” You said, a laugh leaving your lips as he looked at you in mock offense.

“At least it’s not as mundane as ‘what do you do everyday’, Y/n. Cut me some slack, I’m trying here.” He retorted, your hands going up before you answered.

“It’s blue.”

“Lame.” He said, your eyebrows furrowing.

“Matt, that’s literally your favorite color, too.” You said, Matt scoffing.

“You don’t know me.” He mumbled, a laugh bubbling out of you as you adjusted in your seat, scooting the slightest bit towards him.

“I’ve known you my entire life, you dork. That argument is invalid.” You said.

Matt pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head, really studying him for the first time in awhile. You reached forward and lightly pinched a lock in your fingers and twirled it. “Your hair is getting long.” You said. There was something in Matt’s eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but the apples of his cheeks were tinged pink.

“Yeah, I need to cut it soon.” He said, his voice quiet.

You nodded your head, letting go of the lock of hair and resting your hand back on the booth centimeters away from his. “If that’s what you want.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowed as he lightly jabbed the tips of your fingers with his.

You paused, realizing how passive it had sounded. You immediately shook your head. “No, oh my God, nothing! It was just an observation.” You said, resting your hand on his.

“So you wouldn’t care if I shaved my head?” He asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. Somehow, your fingers ended up entwined, but both of your palms were resting on the back of the booth. It was comfortable, but new, and you didn’t know exactly how to navigate this. You shrugged your shoulders and pulled your headphones off of your head and rested them around your neck.

“I wouldn’t care, no. Just because I think your hair looks cute long, doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out if you change it.” You said honestly. Matt blinked, processing your words before he replied.

“You think my hair looks cute long?” He asked. You nodded your head, ignoring the burning in your face.

“That is what I just said, yes.” You said, trying to sound like it was no big deal

“Wow, admitting you think I’m cute on recording? That’s crazy.” You could tell he was teasing, and by the color of his cheeks, you could tell he didn’t mind.

You cocked an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side as your smile grew. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that you’ve been practically holding my hand for this entire conversation?”

“I haven’t?” He said, immediately pulling his hand from yours and resting it in his lap, his eyes darting downward. You smiled and shook your head, teasingly gesturing around the room.

“Matt, it’s literally on camera, from multiple angles.” You said, Matt’s eyes meeting yours. He studied your face and eventually smiled and rolled his eyes, the awkward tension he was radiating before slowly dissipating.

“Yeah, okay, whatever.” He mumbled, adjusting his headphones before meeting your eyes again. You opened your mouth to speak, but were quickly interrupted.

“Oh my God, this is honestly disgusting.”

You whipped your head around to Nick, your eyes wide as he met you with an incredulous stare.

“You guys have been flirting like, the entire time. I’m surprised I haven’t thrown up yet.” He finished, your face on fire as your eyes flickered to Chris’ amused smile.

“Honestly, Nick and I stopped arguing like, five minutes ago. We just wanted to see how long it would take the two of you to notice.” You looked back at Matt, who was awkwardly laughing into his hands and shaking his head. “Clearly, way too fucking long. Can we get back to the topic of our joint childhoods now?” Chris finished.

You cleared your throat and nodded, adjusting yourself in the booth so you were facing forward and your shoulder was to Matt.

“Where were we again?” You asked, Nick jumping into the conversation effortlessly.

The rest of the podcast went smoothly, the four of you in almost perfect harmony for the rest of the time, the little embarrassing interruption nearly forgotten.

It was nearly forgotten until Matt’s hand rested over yours under the table and entwined with yours. You felt your face heat up and the corners of your mouth twitch, but you didn’t say anything or make anything obvious.

Matt was your best friend, and as affectionate as the two of you were, hand holding was never on the list until now—and honestly, you didn’t mind.

[pizzaapeteer]

Feeling Blue(y)

Fluffy blurb with Theodore Nott Warnings: one use of y/n

Based off this sweet request from @marriinachoo: something where you're dating theo and he like makes fun of you for watching bluey but one time you fall asleep while watching and when you wake up he's next to you still watching and crying.

a/n: For anyone who doesn't know what Bluey is, it's a kid's show about an Australian blue heeler puppy. As well as the episode this was based off can be watched here if you want hehe

The familiar baby blue title page of Bluey flashes on the screen, as the classic Australian blue heeler and her family sing the theme song. It’s only moments later, when Theo returns from the bathroom, filling the room with an unsatisfied groan. 

“Oh, come on, nuh uh, that’s literally a show for children, y/n.” Theo sighs, rubbing his face at your silly suggestion, joining you back on the bed in his dorm room.  

You roll your eyes at Theo, frowning at his protest, “We just watched three episodes of your creepy ass show. No way I can sleep now after that at 1 am. We’re watching at least one episode of Bluey.” Your voice holds a strong, defiant sternness. No way are you about to budge on this. 

Leaning back to snuggle further into Theo’s side, hoping to gain some comfort from him and Bluey as the episode began. You’d find yourself in this position far too often, always ending up being convinced to watch scary entertainment so late. It was pretty impossible to say no to Theo’s sweet begging face, and so here you were again with thoughts of extremely inhuman things in your mind. Though you’d found a pretty successful way of making sure those thoughts didn’t linger into nightmares. 

Theo huffs defeatedly, slightly mumbling to himself, “This is so stupid," which you don’t see fully engaged with the show. He wasn’t happy about wasting his time spent watching a kid’s show, having escaped enduring it so far. Despite his slightly annoyed presence, he continues to embrace you, wrapping his arm, bringing you close to his side. His eyes fall to you adoring the sweet content expression, his hand resting on your head, running his fingers through your hair. 

The smooth lulling of Theo’s fingers massaging your head softly seeps a feeling of solace from you. The episode Butterfly is one of your favourites, though the late hours of the night seem to have finally hit you and before you know it you’re drifting off to sleep, head dropping onto Theo’s shoulder. 

The newly added weight of your head on his shoulder grabs Theo’s attention and he smiles faintly, his hand continuing patting you gently. He doesn’t dare move and finds himself with no choice but to endure watching the show. The sweet voice of Bingo singing her bug song makes Theo’s brows raise, finding it surprisingly utterly adorable. 

As the show reaches its turning point, revealing a problem of Bingo being excluded from playing, Theo sits up slightly interested in finding out what will happen. Theo’s movement stirs you slightly before you fully reawaken by the sound of a quiet sniffle. Opening your eyes, you're greeted with melancholy singing from Bingo, repeating her once happy “bug on the wall song”. Lifting your head, you tilt, noticing Theo's deep blue irises filled with tears.

You sit up fully, with Theo now taking notice of your awakened state, wiping his eyes quickly, trying to hide his emotions. You smile softly at him, giggling at how caught up in the kid’s show he had gotten. “Getting emotional there Teddy?” You tease, gently rubbing his arm.

Realising he's already caught in the act, he looks over at you, trying to explain, “Oh shut up, those fuckers ditched Bingo! What absolute assholes.” He grumbles, irritated, crossing his arms now frustrated with how Bluey and Judo had ditched Bingo because she was younger. The two sisters are seen making up in the background now as they re-sing the bug song. 

You break into a fit of laughter covering your mouth to avoid being too loud, not being able to take Theo seriously. You couldn’t get over how he actually had gotten interested in the so-called ‘silly kid’s show’. You rub his arm more affectionately, “They’re just kids, Theo, and look, they’re resolving the problem now. Everyone’s happy.” 

You snuggle back into him as the episode ends with the two sisters and the friend playing happily together. Theo gives you a small smile, rolling his eyes playfully as you tease him about engaing. You grin as the next episode is suggested, giggling at him. “Another one?” 

Bonus:

You catch Theo humming the tune “Poor little bug on the wall” throughout the next week.

As well as describing the plot lines to his friends, pretending they’re chaotic stories finding amusement in their reactions, not knowing it's a kids' show. 

masterlist

[darkeralmond]

cam cameron and the readers first time?

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I LOVE U BAE!!

First Time

Cam Cameron x fem! Reader

synopsis: after your date with cam, things escalate when he decides to stay with you at your house

warnings: 18+, smut, first time sex, fingering

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I LOVE CAM SO MUCH!! i’m gonna need AE to come out with team cam shirts ASAP!! also spoiler alert for season 2 episode 4 BUT HAVE U SEEN JEREMIAH AND BELLY OH MY GOD THE HAND HOLDING CAUSED ME TO SCREAMMMM. TEAM JEREMIAH!! mark smut coming out soon!! (i hope)

masterlist | request info

“I can’t believe you beat me in ski ball,” you giggled as you looked over at Cam. “I’m like the reigning champion.”

He shrugged. “Turns out working at an arcade does come in hand sometimes.” You cracked a smile before letting out a snicker.

You were a debutante last year which is where you met Cameron. Both your guys' moms worked at the country club that hosted the ball. You would run into him often because of this. After a while, you developed a little crush on him and had asked him to be your escort since you didn’t have one.

It wasn’t until this year you actually decided to pursue something with him. You finally asked him out on a date and he picked the location, which was the arcade he worked at since he got a discount.

Cam had just dropped you off at your house and refused to let you walk up to your front door alone. He was truly a gentleman who was adorable and he knew it.

You grabbed your key out of your pocket and unlocked the door. “Can I come in and say hi to your mom?” he asked, peeking his head through the open door.

You giggled and looked back at him again. “No, my parents aren’t home.”

“Oh.” He then looked down at his phone, presumably checking the time before tucking it back into his pocket. “You sure you don’t want to come back to my house? I don’t want you to be here alone.”

You shook your head. “No, my dad wouldn’t like me going over to a boy’s house at night.” He nodded his head and flashed a quick smile, agreeing with you. “But you can stay here and keep me company!”

You didn’t even think twice about the offer, you just said it. His eyebrows raised slightly as his cheeks dusted a red tint. “Okay,” he gushed.

You let him into the house before shutting the door behind you two and locking the door. You watched as he admired the interior of the house, his mouth slightly hung open. “What?” you laughed.

“Nothing!” he said as he looked back at you. “Your house just looks like a beach house.”

“Well it is on the beach.” This won a chuckle out of him as he continued looking around. “You want a tour?” you asked as you walked up to him.

“Sure!” he answered as he nodded his head.

You grabbed his hand and led him around the entire downstairs. According to him, his favorite room was the living room due to the fireplace. You then led him upstairs and showed him every other room before leading him to your own room.

You opened the door and led him in. “Here’s my room. Sorry, it’s a little messy.” There was a t-shirt and a pair of socks lying on your unmade bed. You quickly took those off and threw them in your laundry basket.

At least your room smelled good because of the essential oils you had just purchased. “I like the vines on the wall,” he commented as he pointed at them.

You giggled, “Put them up myself.” You then plopped down on the bed and looked at him as he took in every corner of your room. “You wanna watch something? I can pull something up on my Mac.”

He nodded his head and sat down on the bed next to you.

…

You weren’t sure how it happened, but one thing led to another and now you were on top of him making out. You pulled away and looked down at him as his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

“Have you done this before?” he asked. His eyes reminded you of a puppy. There was so much innocence in them and his lashes gave his eyes a more doe look.

You were tempted to lie and said you had, but staring into his eyes just poured the truth out of you. “Uh… no,” you answered. “Have you?”

“Nuh uh,” he said. You licked your lips and looked off to the side. “Do you… uh… want to?”

You looked back at him and hesitantly nodded your head. You could hear the beating of your heart in your ear, the silence between you two was deafening.

“Okay,” he breathed out. His hand met the side of your face before tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

He smiled at you and gently leaned forward to capture your lips in his once more. You sighed against his lips, his touch sending chills down your spine.

Your hands slid up his shirt causing a groan to escape from his lips. He kissed you harder and deeper this time. You could feel his tongue poking at your bottom lip, hoping to meet yours. You let him do so, his tongue danced with his.

You felt his hands run up your shirt, his hands felt cold against your heated skin. It made you shiver a bit but you enjoyed every second of it.

You pulled away again and let him take off your shirt. He stared at your topless body, drooling over your figure.

You gasped softly, your breath hitching when his fingers brushed across your breasts. Your hips jolted as your nipples hardened beneath your bra.

“Fuck,” you whispered.

He noticed your reaction and stopped what he was doing. “Is this okay?” he asked. You nodded your head, leading him to cup your breasts again.

Him touching you felt nice, but you wanted to do more than that. You were just too nervous to ask. You didn’t want to obviously have full on sex, but you at least wanted him to do more.

Your face must’ve given that away because he asked, “What do you want me to do?”

“Uh,” you thought about it for a minute. “Can you… uh…” Your face turned bright red as embarrassment washed over you. “Finger me?”

His cheeks flushed crimson and his eyes widened. He pulled his finger away as he nodded. “Yeah,” he answered. You hopped off of him and laid down on the bed next to him.

His gaze softened and you gave him an encouraging grin. He swallowed hard before he slid his hand down your shorts.

Your breaths hitched as your eyes fluttered close. His fingers moved in a circular motion around your clit. You opened your eyes as you held back any sounds that may escape your lips.

He pulled you back into a kiss, it tasted like vanilla ice cream and mint toothpaste. He moved a little faster, rubbing your clit with his ring and middle fingers until you let a moan slip in his mouth.

He then inserted his fingers inside you, your wetness made it easier for him. Your back arched as you let out a louder moan.

His kisses became more frantic, almost desperate. Every time he moved his fingers or thrust into your depths you would squirm. A small whine left your mouth as your hips bucked upwards.

You finally pulled away since you needed to catch your breath. His fingers sent a wave of pleasure through you. “Cam,” you whimpered. His wet fingers pulled out of you and continued to massage your clit until you finally came undone.

Your whole body felt drowsy but still buzzing with excitement. When your orgasm had passed and your breathing returned to normal you rolled onto your side. “Do you want to do it again?” you asked him with a grin.

He nodded and crawled back on top of you, but before anything could escalate, the sound of jingling keys and the front door opened echoed through the house

“Fuck,” you mumbled. “My parents.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, “Now I can say hi to your mom.” You rolled your eyes and pushed him off you.

[sofs16]

ripples in our love

part 1: paddock day , part 2: our leclerc win, part 3: our love in photos, part 4: our home — next

not proofread and lots of text / paragraphs ahead:)

“are you sure you don’t want to come with me” charles asked as he was putting on his shoes.

“charles, i’ve been with you all year and break, have fun with your friends.. just not too much fun” you laughed, clutching your robe closer to your waist as a shiver went down your spine from the ac.

“but i love spending time with you, amour” he sighed, standing up, holding your face between his palms, and kissing you.

“what, you don’t wanna drink and be manly?” you raised a brow “i mean… i do…” he thought about it “go” you whispered with a reassuring smile. you weren’t one for parties and a part of you was worried charles was being restrained to hang out with his friends because of that, so you encouraged him to have a night out before the races.

“i’ll be back by 12” he kissed you for the last time and you giggled “you better come back home to me, leclerc” you scolded “of course, where else?” and then the door shut.

2am, that’s what the time was. you were sat on the couch in your shared apartment. it was 2 hours since you saw that nightmare of a post. you have been getting multiple texts by the minute.

a part of you wanted to be childish and run away, never facing him. but that wouldn’t be right at all.

you heard the keys jingling on the other side of the door and heard a grunt and stumble. you gulped but trained your eyes on the tv, not really watching the episode of gossip girl.

“amour! you’re here!” charles replied with a cheer in a sluggish manner. he frowned when you didn’t turn around to look at him, or greet him with a kiss or hug as you usually did.

“amour?” he mumbled, stumbling over the couch, clearly drunk. his eyes lit up once they saw your face and he trained to kiss you but you held his face in between your hands before he could. “are you thinking straight right now, charles?”

no nickname. the gears in charles’ head weren’t fast enough at the moment.

“of course, let’s go to bed” he smiled “charles, you kissed another woman” you said quietly, as if you didn’t want to believe it

“No! That’s crazy. I only love you. You only. You’re my everything. I dont like anyone else. You’re my girlfriend. I’ll make you my wife one day” he said against your chest, shaking his head

you found yourself to be someone who cries when they’re frustrated or overly happy. “let’s talk in the morning and get you into bed, ‘kay?” you helped him up as he tried his best to sober up.

unlike the many showers you had together, you left him to shower on his own, making sure he was balanced enough before shutting the bathroom door.

the shower sobered him up quickly. cold water tricking down his body as he revisited the events of tonight. oh how he had messed up.

he stepped out of the shower to see his favorite shirt out, though all his favorite shirts were yours, it was his that was put out. he walked out of the bathroom to find you setting down the trashcan beside the bed, just in case.

“amour, can we talk please?” he held your hand but you dropped it. “tomorrow charles, okay? let’s get you to rest first” you pulled the covers over him, made him take headache pills.

“you… are not sleeping beside me?” he asked as you made your way to the door. “not tonight, charles” you whispered, turning off the lights and shutting the door.

though he was overthinking that night, the alcohol helped him sleep throughout that night, unlike you.

he woke up and frowned at there being no dip on your pillow and side of the bed. he rubbed his eyes, taking his cellphone and that’s when he remembered it all.

he jumped up the bed and rushed in getting the door open, in hopes to find you. you were sitting at the dining table, staring at the floor below you, tiredness evident through your eyes.

“amour?” you looked up “do you remember it?” you asked and he nodded, taking the seat adjacent to you. “why” you turned to him, swallowing the lump in your throat.

“i- i don’t know. i swear- amour i thought she was you” “i’m fucking blonde, charles” you furrowed your eyebrows

“you know how i am after i drink” true “i don’t- i don’t know what to do, charles” you shut your eyes closed

“amour please, you mean everything to me, you are my everything. if i could take it back or if i had stayed at home with you that night, i would. please don’t leave me” he held your hand quietly. you couldn’t say anything.

silence greeted him.

“tell me what you are thinking. call me names, scream at me, i do not care— just let me in” he asked.

when he said that, he thought you would burn him to the ground and pick on every flaw he had, even hearing you say you wish you had never dated him. your words… were not that.

“i think…im thinking if i’m enough for you” charles was shocked. “i think about all the girls you could have who are prettier, more famous, kinder, and everything more than i am but you’re stuck with me” you groan in frustration as tears start to well up. “and i can’t help but see you with someone else and it hurts” there they were, tears falling too quick for you to see. charles had never seen you cry, truthfully. “it hurts knowing— you could just leave me and maybe even be with that girl you were kissing last night” you sniffled

“yn,” he said quietly, wiping your tears away “i don’t want to be with anyone else. only you. and i don’t care if they are the models of the year or what. you are the prettiest girl to me and- i cannot let you think that low of yourself. i am so sorry, amour. please, let me fix this somehow. anything, i will do anything”

“i think i need space and time, charles” you looked up to his face. he knew if it weren’t serious right now, you most likely would’ve made an avengers infinity stone joke you were thinking about it, but no words came out

“i- yes. i understand. i’ll go out for a whil-” “i mean, i’ll go back to the house in paris for some while” “what?” his heart sank. “it makes sense right now charles. i need space to think and plus, i was going to go there anyways for fashion week” you rubbed your eyes.

charles knew your relationship with your parents were wobbly as you moved away from france to live in spain. but going back to them? that was how bad this was.

“are you breaking up with me?” he wobbled. “no, i just- i don’t know! i need to think charles” you stood up “please, yn! you- you are the only one for me please do not leave me” he pleaded hugging you from behind.

he hugged that girl from behind.

“you were in this position when you kissed her” you said quietly and charles shuddered at the thought of being with someone who isn’t you. “i’m sorry” you nodded and made a beeline to your bedroom.

30 minutes later you came out with 2 suitcases in hand. it was real. you were leaving. “will- will you be at the gp?” he asked quietly. maybe a little selfishly, but you were his comfort especially during nerve-wracking times like gps. you shook your head no. and he nodded, in understanding.

“do you want me to drive you to the airport?” he asked and you shook your head again. “good luck charles” you sighed, kissing his cheek. you meant for the gp— but so many things were going through his head. ‘good luck living a life without me’ was one of them.

yn.charlesupdate

liked by 2,438 others

yn.charlesupdate No yn at the paddock. Oh we’re done for. view all 7,337 comments

lestappen12 what did you think? she just saw the love of her life kissing another woman 2 days ago…

ferr4ribae im tired. august 25, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by 3,449,494 others

charles_leclerc P2 for you :) Shame for what happened to Lewis on the first lap, we were lucky to finish the race even with the damage we had. See you next year, Zandvoort.

view all 2,484,399 comments

charlesyn17 He really got guts to post this like he didn’t just CHEAT on yn.

chachahaa cant believe you cheated on yn. she treated you like a king. that’s what’s a shame.

checheco1 Lewis deserved that P2 after what you did to yn.

nightleclerc … i can’t keep defending you charles

alphmercedez i hope you dnf 😊

august 26, 2024

yn instagram stories :

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yns_love

liked by yn, and 473 others

yns_love yn actin like he didn’t just cheat on her… but ok mother we love& trust u and will stfu

view all 1,494 comments

august 30, 2024

yncharle

liked by 6,373 others

yncharle 2 races with no yn. charles p3. 2 weeks radio silence from yn. bye.

view all 1,474 comments

september 11, 2024

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 10,484,484 others

yn 💌

view all 2,585,686 comments

leclerc_pascale Beautiful ❤️

⤷ yn merci maman 😆

⤷ ynlelllerc STOP 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹😭

landonorris You look cool in that 3rd photo 😎

⤷ yn cuz i am cool, landito! like u😊

⤷ carlossainz55 thats not true

⤷ yn dont be mean carlitos, youre cool too🫀

⤷ wagsgrid her interacting with the grid is so wholesome 🥹

ynsbeaut SHES BACK BITCHES!!

[liked by yn]

dior 🤍

charlesbae jesus did she buy the whole dior show?

⤷ yn GIRL IM NOT THAT RICH 😭 it was for fashion week 🤭

chachaaaa Are she and charles still together?

16s55love why is she just ignoring what happened.. she seems unbothered, did she even love charles :/

⤷ yn we’re handling this privately so please respect that and dont make such assumptions. and i do love charles, dearly :)

[liked by charles_leclerc]

⤷ ynscharles I CANT. THEYRE MY PARENTS YOUR HONOR

softwags._ will you be at baku?

september 12, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

august 21, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Amour, I am so sorry and I hope you know I never meant for this to happen and you are the only one for me.❤️

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

thanks charles but i just need time, okay? :)

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Of course, yes. I will just be messaging you every now and then, would that be alright?

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

mhm. good luck on sunday, charles

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Thank you, belle. I will do my best for you❤️

[yn reacted ❤️]

.august 22, 2024

sharlie brown🫀🏎️

Hi belle❤️ If I am being honest, I am nervous for tomorrow and I wish you were here. I hope you are doing alright there. [yn reacted ❤️]

.august 24, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

hello ynn! I got P2 in today’s qualifying though I hope I can turn it into a win tomorrow. We miss you here at the paddock

.august 26, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello amour❤️ Remained P2 today but unfortunately took Lewis out:/ I’m sure I’ll be getting an earful from the Mercedes fans but it is alright. I miss you and love you

.august 28, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello, love! Thank you for the story you posted. I hope you are alright and doing well there. Don’t over work yourself, please. I have just landed in Monza and as usual, the fans are crazy! I wish you were here to feel the love they share for you as well. I miss and love you

.august 31, 2024

sharlie brown🫀🏎️

hi love:) I am quite stressed at the moment since the car engine almost gave in during the last turn. I feel it is my fault… anyways, I do not know if you have been watching. I hope you are doing alright. I love and miss you ❤️

september 1, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

P3 today. Disappointed to say the least because if I pushed more I could have won for you.I saw on twitter you are in fashion week already?Do what you love:) ❤️

forgot to say hi… Hi! I love and miss you

y/n/n🤪🤍💒 Don’t blame it on yourself, Charles. You can’t always be perfect or always P1 even if you want to. The most you can do is try your best next time and enjoy. You’re world champion and leading the world champion points now:) Fashion week is stressful but I can manage. Stay safe, Charles. I love you.

september 3, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello my love, thank you. I really needed that. I wish I had replied sooner but I have been sleeping a lot.. haha. You will do great, I know you will. I love you, amour and miss you more than you know😘

september 5, 2024

sharlie brown 🫀🏎️

Hello, beautiful! How is France?:)

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

hi charles:) france is good as always

sharlie brown🫀🏎️

Amazing photos! I miss you and love you❤️

september 10, 2024

y/n/n🤪🤍💒

would you mind if i went to baku this week and we talked?

#SOF: thoughts? :)

thank u btw for all the support in this lil series<3

@glow-ish — your tag! lmk if you wanna be tagged in the next part! feel free to also send in messages thru the ask box hehe

[skzhua]

Episode five.

MASTERLIST

pairing: XO, Kitty's Min Ho x Female Reader

genre: Fluff, angst, enemies-to-lovers, slow burn, coming-of-age.

word count: 3.8k

warnings: Swearing, mentions of divorce, mentions of deceased parents, some cringey asf moments.

summary: Transferring to KISS was the last thing you had asked for and, yet, a certain tall boy made it seem both worse and better than you expected.

note: Bold - Korean, Italic - Over the phone

a/n: I am beyond overwhelmed by the amount of love this series is receiving. It means so much to me, you have no idea. Thank you <3

(let me know by filling the form in my bio if you want to be added to the taglist!)

There were bad days, and then there were bad days. And Min Ho was clearly having the second one. After you slammed the door in his face, he dropped on the couch next to Q. He might have hoped a little that his friend was going to be of any moral support but he couldn't be any far from the truth. Q was still pissed at him. In fact, almost everyone he knew was.

Dae came back to the dorm after Q left to go to bed. Seeing Min Ho alone, he greeted him kindly.

"You're here. How was your day?"

"It sucked." Dae gave him a sad look as Min Ho let out a sigh. "It sucked."

He went to sit across him and gave him a sad smile. "What happened earlier, I'm sorry... Things are crazy these days."

"I know, that's why I'm trying to help you." he said in frustration. "Why are you keeping secrets from me? You didn't even tell me you were dating Yuri all summer... And why did you tell Kitty about Poopy Baby?"

Dae gulped, not saying anything back.

"Are you really my friend?"

He let himself fall back on the seat in defeat. "I'm such garbage."

"Well, at least you know that."

"Hey. You still have feelings for her, right?" he was replied with a hum. "If I can be honest, I saw something today. On the Internet. Randomly! Accidentally!"

There was a pause before Dae hopped on his chair as he suggested they play Overwatch. After agreeing to order hot wings and do face masks, Kitty walked in and rushed to go see Q in his room. Dae's stare lingered to the door and Min Ho snapped him out of it.

Overhearing it all, you heard them call Kitty out of the room to show her something. Curiosity got the best of you, so you joined the others and walked up behind Q to watch what was going on. The sight horrified you. Why would someone stream their roommate in their sleep?

"What? My roommate put me on some weird website as I was sleeping." Kitty scoffed.

"I don't see the appeal." Min Ho sighed.

"And yet you somehow found the site."

He looked at you as you grabbed his attention but only received a death stare from your part. You definitely needed to work on your weird dynamic.

"Kitty, you should move." Dae said, more like an command than a suggestion. "You can't live with this girl anymore."

Q nodded. "Yeah, I agree with Dae. This is kind of sketchy."

She huffed. "I tried but there is no other room."

"Uh, how about a hotel? My driver could take you right now." Min Ho offered although he was well aware this wasn't an option.

"I can't afford that for an entire semester."

"I'm sure Dae can hook you up with a discount at Han Hotels."

"Shut up, Min Ho." you said, growing more annoyed with him by the second.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "Just trying to help."

"You helped enough today."

Before another argument broke, Q's face brightened as an idea popped in his mind. He offered to switch rooms with Dae for Kitty to come live with the rest of you again. In secret. Though unsure, she agreed because of how much she couldn't take her roommate anymore.

Chuseok used to be your favourite day of the year. You would have a delicious meal with your parents at home, free of worries and problems. Your mom's japchae was what truly kept the tradition living. Needless to say, their death definitely left its mark on you but it became easier with time. And tomorrow, you were going to enjoy it to the fullest. At least try to.

Kitty had spontaneously offered to organize a Chuseok for the expats of the school and begged you to help her out. You would have turned it down but her pleas were almost getting on your nerves that you gave in. She asked you about traditional meals you'd cook with your own family and you put together a list of ingredients she would need to buy. As the list only got longer, you opted to go grocery shopping together.

"Can you get soy sauce? I'll get the gochugaru."

You went to the end of the aisle as she called out for you to ask which kind of sauce she needed to get. Being already in front of the gochugaru, you assumed she could wait a second more for you to pick it up. You crouched down to get it off the shelf. Satisfied with the brand you chose, you got up and were greeted by Min Ho standing in front of you, a basket in hands. His shoulders dropped as you stared back at each other, you doing the same.

"You're seriously everywhere." he complained.

"It's not like I intend on seeing you everywhere."

Kitty came next to you with her cart, having picked out herself a random bottle of soy sauce. "Min Ho."

"And Kitty? You two are like my own sasaengs." he scoffed which Kitty seemed to not have understood.

"What's a sasaeng?" she asked, confirming your thoughts.

"Like a very obsessed fan." you explained. "But we're not."

"Yeah, sure." he smirked at you.

"What are you even doing in a grocery store?" Kitty asked.

"Yeah." you added. "Shouldn't you be on a yatch being rich and annoying?"

He faked a smile. "My dad is doing that with wife number three with her new fillers. I have decided to stay here as a favour to all women who want a piece of me this Chuseok."

He sent you a look before pulling a box of chocolates out of his basket. You could do nothing but roll your eyes at how pathetic it looked.

"Strawberries and chocolate? I'm going to be sick." Kitty said in a boring tone.

"I'm sure Lulu would appreciate it."

This caught your attention. "Lulu? The pop star? You got her to be one of your Min Hoes?"

He scoffed as his infamous smug look appeared. "That's cute, puppy. And she's only the fastest rising popstar in the country."

"And?" Kitty said, not sure what point he was trying to make.

He held up his phone to show you a picture of Lulu but you only frowned.

"We've been flirting since her trainee days." he justified.

"What a surprise." you said sarcastically.

Nonetheless, you couldn't ignore the feeling in the pit of your stomach. It felt like it was ripping apart and you only hoped it didn't mean what you thought it meant.

"She's on break from tour for the holiday. Even K-Pop stops for Chuseok." he continued.

"Okay." Kitty said, unimpressed.

Min Ho analyzed the content of your cart and frowned at you. Taking a pack that laid on top of the rest of your items, he showed it to you.

"Do you even know what to do with this?"

You snatched it back from him. "We're fine, thanks."

"I am admittedly entering new territory but with the help of TikTok, Y/N, and a positive attitude, I'll manage just fine." Kitty said and you facepalmed. "If not, I've won awards for my mashed potatoes."

She was about to push her cart forward and walk away but Min Ho stopped her. "No, no, no. As a Korean national, I cannot in good conscience let you desecrate my native cuisine like this."

"You do know I'll be doing most of the cooking, right?" you asked.

He acted as if he hadn't heard you and dropped his basket in your cart before removing Kitty from her spot to push it himself. "Do you want to poison your classmates or do you need my help?"

"Min Ho." you exhaled.

"This is me being kind right now."

Kitty sighed. "Fine. But I'm still making my mashed potatoes."

You and Min Ho groaned at her words and walked towards the next aisle. She followed behind in panic, telling you to not mess her system up.

While she was watching you two add products to the cart, you kept on bickering on anything really. Disagreeing on certains articles, disputing over a certain dish he wanted to cook, complaining about what you wanted to make...

You managed to go up to the cash register and he insisted on paying for it all. Having fought enough with him, you didn't protest and he helped you and Kitty with getting everything back to the dorm.

You got up from bed earlier than usual, wanting to focus on the side dishes you planned on making. It was going to take a while to get everything done so the sooner you started, the better.

What you didn't expect was to see Min Ho already standing in the kitchen as he dressed in a black tank top with a funny-looking apron over it. He didn't see you right away but he was quick to do so when you let a laugh slip out of your mouth.

"Well, well. Who's decided to be an early bird this morning?" he snickered, referring to your usual moody self when you wake up.

"Looks like we've had the same idea. I wanted to start cooking right away." you said as you went to stand next to him. "Need help?"

He shook his head. "I'm good. You can start on the budae jjigae, though."

Doing as told, you took the ingredients out of the refrigerator and Min Ho moved his own material to leave you space to work. It was silent but unlike normally, it felt nice. You almost dared to think that you liked being this comfortable with him.

"What's this?" you asked about the basket on the stool.

"My mom got it for me, my love language is gifts."

"I would have never guessed." you joked.

"She sent it from Los Angeles since she couldn't be here." He looked down. "We usually spend Chuseok together."

You smiled sadly. "It must suck, I get that. My parents and I never missed Chuseok together. Well, until... yeah."

"Right."

He cleared his throat to ease the tension and continued to chop his onions. You watched him go at it and were pleasantly surprised by his skills.

"I would have never guessed you knew how to cook. Nor would I have expected you to help Kitty. I suppose you can be nice."

He gave you a side eye. "I'm famously anti-Kitty, I'm only doing this to honour our traditional food properly."

"Try to convince me. You have a soft spot."

He chuckled while shaking his head. "Well, if you want me to be nice so badly, should I ask if you're okay?"

You cocked your head to the side. "What do you mean?"

"With your parents and all. I bet it's not easy."

You nodded. "Yeah, definitely a difficult holiday." you breathed out.

"I'm sorry but can I ask what happened?"

You looked at him and saw his eyes softened. "It's..." you hesitated. "They had a business trip and never came back." you kept it short

He rubbed your arm and you shivered at the contact. "That's awful. I'm sure they're looking after you. They must be proud."

Your breath hitched as you felt his head hover yours. You didn't dare to look up but you knew he was looking at you.

"Thank you, Min Ho."

You felt him breathe on the top of your head. It was unsteady and hot, you felt like you were about to melt.

"Good morning." Kitty yawned, coming to join the two of you.

You jumped away from each other and focused back on your tasks, attempting to forget what had just happened. "Hey, slept well?"

"I guess." she yawned again. "Oh, Pepero." she said excitedly and reached out to get it from Min Ho's gift from his mother.

He slapped her hand away. "Don't."

Hours of cooking went by and you were happy to have almost forgotten about your moment with Min Ho. Almost. Having finished with your budae jjigae, you sat at the stool and watched Kitty make her mashed potatoes. Growing bored, you connected your phone to the speakers and scrolled through your playlists to find something to add to the ambiance. After selecting one song, you heard a phone buzzing. Min Ho took his device out and smiled as he replied to a text.

"Confirmed Lulu will be at the premises at 8pm." he said with a smirk before putting his phone away.

Your stomach felt weird again.

"I'm sure she'll love the chocolate." Kitty smiled sarcastically.

"The chocolate was actually for," he began to say and moved his gaze to focus on you. "someone else."

Kitty eye-judged him as she kept mixing her potatoes.

"Hey, don't judge." he exclaimed. "Not all people need to be star-crossed lovers to be compatible. Like, hot people, for example." he pointed to himself. "We can, and want to play the field."

You mentally thanked him for saying that as it gave you a reminder that he was nothing but a jackass. That helped the weird tug in your belly go away.

"That's because you haven't found your perfect match." she looked at you for a second and you coughed in disapproval.

Min Ho grunted. "I've found many, many matches."

"I'm just saying, I've seen the magic when people find the one." she smiled to herself.

"That's sweet to think, Kitty." you said in a bored voice, not believing in what she was saying.

"Y/N's right. My parents both thought they found the one." Min Ho continued. "They were the 'it' couple. Beautiful, young starlet. Chaebol heir. The tabloids literally called them the perfect match. Look at them now."

Visibly, the divorce of his parents seemed to have impacted him more than he would admit. You kind of felt bad but, again, this was Min Ho. He didn't deserve your empathy.

"I'm sorry." you let yourself spill out unintentionally.

He shrugged. "Whatever."

Kitty coughed to clear the atmosphere and served him a bowl of her potatoes for him to taste. He took a spoonful of it and hummed as it was better than he thought.

"It must be weird to have people know all about your family." you continued on topic.

You were glad that he didn't mind keeping on telling you about it. "They think they know, they don't really. That's my point."

You nodded in agreement and he continued.

"There's really only one thing that matters at the end of the day."

"Which is what?" Kitty asked curiously.

"The truth." he responded as if it was obvious.

You helped Kitty with organizing the place. As more people came to her gathering, you welcomed everyone nicely by offering them drinks. You saw Q and Florian arrive and joined Kitty's side to say hello.

"Wow." Q breathed out in amazement. "People are calling this Chingu-seok."

"What?" Kitty asked and you were starting to wonder if she really was working on her Korean like she told you she was.

"It's a pun with chinggu, which means 'friends' and Chuseok." Florian explained. "You started a new tradition."

She was in awe but it was ruined when her eyes spotted Professor Lee. "Oh, no. Why is he here?"

"Because he's sad and lonely." Min Ho answered making you almost choke in your orange juice. "Mind helping me, Y/N?"

You followed him to the main table where you had placed the food dishes. He passed you a bowl of cold noodles and asked you to bring them to a table. As he was placing a plate himself, Madison appeared out of nowhere and waved at him.

"Min Ho, hi."

He shut his eyes closed, clearly not wanting to converse with her. "Hello, Madison."

"I wasn't expecting you to be here." she frowned but then noticed the plate he was holding. "Oh my God, you cooked."

"Yes, but I'm not staying long. Got a date tonight."

You had heard enough and moved to the entrance to invite people in. The weird knot in your belly came back and you absolutely hated it. You hated even more that Min Ho was seemingly the cause of it.

"Y/N!" he called out for you again.

With a lack of enthusiasm, you came to him and he asked you to put the plates away with him. Madison had left so you saw no problem in giving him a hand. Happy with the result, you went to Kitty's table together and stopped to look for which seat to take. You sat at the edge of the table, two seats away from your professor. Although awkward, Kitty was going to be in front of you anyway. Plus, you were only there to enjoy the food.

"Hey."

You raised an eyebrow at Min Ho. "You're sitting here? Willingly?"

He repositioned himself on the seat next to you and shook his head. "No. Yes? Just drop it."

"My bad."

Q insisted for Kitty to make a toast and she did a great job as she mentioned sweet thoughts such as gathering together and her mother. She ended her speech with a 'cheers' and you clang your drinks together. With Min Ho's first.

"Happy Chuseok, little pup." he nudged your shoulder. "Thank you for the food."

"Thank you to you too." you smiled.

You started to serve yourself and were, honestly, overwhelmed by how much food there was. You wanted to taste each one of them.

"Can you pass the japchae?" Min Ho asked Q.

Your head rose from the mention of this specific food. "You made japchae?"

He put it down in front of you two. "Yeah, first thing this morning. Didn't you see?"

You shook your head as a no. "I haven't eaten that in years."

Min Ho brought your plate closer and dumped some in it. "Dig in."

The last time you had actual good japchae was at your last Chuseok with your parents. None had own up to it so far and you were curious to see if his cooking skills were as good as he claimed them to be. You took a bite and chewed slowly. Your eyes grew bigger and you shook his shoulder.

"This tastes exactly like my mom's."

He chuckled. "Really? She might have sent you my way so you could taste it."

You rolled your eyes. "Don't ruin the moment."

He shrugged. "I'm just saying." he checked his phone quickly. "I'm off... to fulfill my destiny."

"Ah, Lulu?" you asked and he wiggled his eyebrows at you while getting up.

"Can't wait to read about it tomorrow." Q commented.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Kitty stopped him.

"Hello, hot date with popstar? Later, sasaeng." he tapped her head and walked away.

You felt disappointed he left. Of course, you would never admit it out loud. To suppress the annoying tingle that seemed to never go away from your chest, you focused on the japchae. Taking more and more bites of it, you reminisced your parents. You missed them terribly. But you were convinced they were watching you and you wanted to make them proud. Min Ho said they would be, after all.

And there it was again, Min Ho coming to your mind. You tried to shake it off but he simply wouldn't go away. And now you pictured him being with his date at this exact moment...

Ping.

You took out your phone from your pocket and read the messages you had just gotten.

Min Ho: Y/N!

Min Ho: Y/N, answer!

Min Ho: Help me!

Min Ho: I don't know who else to call, come help me!

He was definitely going to be the death of you. Putting your pride aside, you left the dinner to head to the school's entrance. You looked around but there was no one. You yelled out his name a few times but you were left unanswered. As you were about to give up and go back to the others, Min Ho's head popped out of the bushes.

"What the hell did Kitty put in those potatoes?"

You looked at him curiously. "What the- Weren't you going out just now?"

"Y/N, answer, please."

You shrugged. "Milk, cheese... I heard her mention it."

He squinted his eyes in shame. "Really, that little piece of-"

"Min Ho." you stopped him but he then groaned in pain and you heard his tummy rumble. "Awe, Poopy Baby. Are you okay? Do you need help with the potty?" you teased him.

"Real funny." he said while his face stayed still. "Lulu could come any minute now. You have to get rid of her. She can't see me like this. But keep her hooked on me."

You scoffed. "And why would I do that?"

"If her fans find out, I'm done for."

"Sounds like a you problem." you replied and started to walk away.

The sound of a car brought your attention back to where Min Ho was and you immediately connected that this was Lulu. Cursing at yourself, you turned back on your heels and greeted the idol with a forced smile.

"Hi." you bowed at her as she stepped out of the car. "Min Ho's running late."

"Who are you?" she asked in a bored voice.

"Min Ho's fanclub president, first in line for a date night with him."

You wanted to die just then and there. Fanclub president, what were you thinking?

"Uh?" she said, confused.

"My date with him just ended. I can't believe I even got to see him up close."

And more will to bury yourself ten thousand miles deep.

"That jerk double-booked me?"

You smiled, almost afraid of what you were going to say next. "He is the most handsome guy at school. I'm not going to lie, he ruined me for other guys. He's just so... well, you know."

"Intriguing... But I refuse to come second. You tell him I come back at 6pm tomorrow night. And that he better clear off the rest of his schedule."

"Oh." was all that you could say.

"When he has a night with me, he won't be seeing anyone else after."

She got back into the car, not leaving you time to say something back, and took off. Min Ho scoffed in disbelief.

"How did you do that?"

"Talent?" you answered, although it came out more like a question. "You owe me."

"I know, I know."

You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do next. "Well, I'll go now."

"Y/N, wait."

Halting on your steps, you looked at him, confused, and waited for him to go on. He cleared his throat and looked anywhere but at you.

"The chocolate. It was for you. You can take them when you get home."

You froze. "For me?"

"Yeah." he affirmed and finally looked at you. "As an apology for the other day when I yelled."

You let out a small laugh. "Love language is gifts, uh?"

He rolled his eyes. "Say thank you and we move on?"

"Thank you, Min Ho." you smiled.

taglist: @nanaspalette | @schniti-is-in-the-house | @bakugou-katsukis-wife |@soobin-chois | @honeydewpie | @snoozeagustd | @justemalove | @n1ninunwo0 | @loislucky | @kuromomori | @lysira340 | @lenilla15 | @upsidedownjill | @woozarts | @aar0n3tte | @hy-eins | @olivetheoryx | @b1tch1macow | @dreaming-hope25 | @jiaant11 | @boba-tea1206 | @callsign-haze

Copyright © 2023 skzhua. All rights reserved.

[alwaysonf1]

leak?

Pairing: Charles LeClerc x Hamilton!OC

Genre: Slice of Life; Fluff

Word Count: 740

Warning: N/A

Rating: PG-13

Author's Note: Dates and times don't matter.

“Calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down. Do you see what’s trending right now?”

There’s a sigh over the phone and Iman feels bad, but not enough that her anxiety is subsiding or that she can apologize in the moment.

“Mon ange, it’s not even a good picture of us. Plus, would it be so bad?”

Yes, is on the tip of her tongue, but it wasn’t the truth. Iman had just hoped there would be more time before the world knew. She’s adept at handling the media frenzy because of how it was when the world found out she existed. But this was something so fresh and new. She didn’t want to have to share it with anyone.

“No, I just…” 

There are no words that come to mind. Logic is returning to her brain and she knows she’s being dramatic. Next to K-Pop stans, Formula 1 fans are creepy good at detective work. And one is always going to be around no matter where they are.

Also, she wasn’t completely bothered. There was a part of her that took joy in speculating that they were together. That he was her’s. It just isn’t strong enough to make the biggest impact in her head.

Iman sighs.

“Let them speculate. We don’t have to confirm anything.”

Another sigh.

She knows that he’s right, but she’d deluded herself into thinking that things could be chill. For at least a month. Or a week. But she’d found herself attached to Charles’ hip no matter how in public they were. There was some hope that if anything were to leak it would be her getting her ass handed to her in volleyball by Logan. It was ego bruising because she’s the one who played it through high school, but it was better than this.

“I know.”

“Then why all of this? You knew it would come eventually.”

“Not this quickly,” she mumbles.

There is a sound on the other end that sounds like a scoff. Iman has picked up when Charles is calling her out on her bullshit.

“I mean I could post that video of you falling on your face on the beach. That would get everyone’s attention,” Logan chimes in.

Iman’s eyes narrow as she turns to look at him leaning against her door frame snacking on popcorn. Lewis stands behind him with the bowl of popcorn that he’s been eating from.

Both idiots think her reaction is funny and have been watching her as she fights not to go into a spiral. Lewis has made comments about how she wasn’t even this bad when things got intense with the media after their episode. 

The urge to cuss them out presents itself, but Iman simply raises her hand with only one finger extended. Both of them react in faux shock and offense before falling into a giggling fit.

What she’d done to have this life she wasn’t sure, but goodness did it sometimes test her. 

“Mon ange…”

“Huh?”

Charles laughs. “I asked what you wanted to do. I want what makes you happy.”

For a second, she sits with her lips pursed as she thinks about it. They could get it out of the way, but it is much too soon to be making those kinds of announcements. Even if they’re both sure about this, it feels much too fast. Though Iman has to be honest in admitting that sometimes things move at a different pace when you’ve had years of friendship. And there are a few recent thoughts she’s had that are much faster than admitting to dating Charles Leclerc.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“For now, at least. If they catch something else and it goes crazy, we’ll just admit it. Or after like a month.”

“Okay, but mon ange, I’m not going to change my mind about you.”

Breathing becomes hard and Iman is barely able to tell him bye as they hang up the phone. Her phone drops from her hand and she falls back to fully lay on her bed. Butterflies are how she’d describe what she feels.

Laughter starts. At a speed that could give whiplash she turns her head and glares at the two pains in her ass.

“Get out!”

A pillow sails through the air and hits Lewis square in the face. Logan is gone before the other one can leave her hand and Lewis isn’t far behind him.

“Lord help me,” she says, sighing.

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon, and 45,628 others

logansargeant 2x national champ my ass.

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[marvelfanfics1]

hii i’m sick atm and have been reading your fics all day and was wondering if you could do daddy stucky or rafe taking care of a little reader who’s sick. also thank you sm for writing your fics have helped me get through today. <3

Thank you, you're so sweet! I hope this drabble gives you some comfort!

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You sneeze for what felt like the hundred time today, whining because every time you do it hurts your already sore throat.

Rafe who just finished wrapping you in a fluffy blanket held a tissue against your nose. "Blow." After you did you snuggle back into the pillows.

He grabs the bottle of medicine and your face scrunches up in disgust. You press your lips to a thin line when he holds the small cup before your mouth.

He looks at you sternly. "Come on, open your mouth, princess. We already had this."

You shake your head making him sigh.

"How about this, you take your medicine like a good girl and then we can cuddle the rest of the day and watch movies, you can even have some sweets."

He watches you contemplating his offer and when you nod he raises the cup back up to your now open mouth. He has to refrain from chuckling at the face you make and reaches out to grab the bottle of water, opening it before handing it to you.

"Cuddle now?" you ask after practically inhaling the water, handing him the half-empty bottle back.

He pats your head two times. "Soon, Baby. I'm just getting you something to eat first, yeah?"

You nod tiredly and watch him grab your phone, he unlocks it and starts a random episode of Bluey, handing you the device in hopes it keeps you entertained while he's in the kitchen.

He's quick with making you some soup, carefully balancing the tray up the stairs and to his room, smiling a little when he sees how you almost dozed off, stuffie held tightly under your arm but jolt yourself awake the second he enters the room.

He places the tray on your nightstand, sitting down by your side and holding his hand out, knowing what he wants you hand him your phone, waiting patiently while he grabs the bowl and spoon.

After you ate almost everything from the soup he praised you before putting everything aside and went to his side of the bed, laying down beside you and pulling you close.

He kisses your forehead, feeling how warm your skin still is from the fever. He grabs the remote and as promised put on one of your favorite movies.

The whole day was spent with snuggles and watching movies with your Rafey and you couldn't be happier, even when you're so sick you think you might die. Just Rafe's presence alone makes you feel loved and safe.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ ♡ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

[bi-bard]

Reckless - Tenth Doctor Imagine [Doctor Who]

Title: Reckless

Pairing: Tenth Doctor X Reader | Rose Tyler X Platonic!Reader

Word Count: 6,274 words

Warning(s): canon-typical violence

Summary: [Christmas Special (2005)] The Doctor's regeneration has left him unconscious for the unforeseeable future. Now, with an invasion on the horizon, (Y/n) is pushed onto the frontlines on their own for the first time.

Author's Note: I did a poll to decide what episode I should write about next and this episode won. I hope I've made you guys proud. If you have a doctor/series/episode you want to see in the future, just let me know.

Y'all. I need you to trust me here. I know what I'm doing.

MORE OF THIS OC HERE!

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It was as if there was no pause between the burst of regeneration energy and the Doctor's attempt to fly the TARDIS.

As if nothing had happened at all.

But it was clear that something had. Something fundamentally had changed about him. Some wires were still waiting to be properly connected. I could see it. It was in how he was stumbling and frantically glancing between things on the console. He wasn't ready. Not yet.

"Doctor, move," I said, stepping toward the console.

"I- I'm just trying to land," he replied, still scrambling.

"I know, but you are fresh off of a regeneration, this is-" my sentence was cut off by the TARDIS jerking to the side harshly. "Doctor, get away from the console, now!"

He stopped as soon as I raised my voice at him.

I moved around him, flipping a few switches to try to undo some of the chaos he had caused. I wasn't doing a great job, but I had most of it under control. There was one more crash before the machine finally stopped moving.

I ran over to Rose, who had fallen during the earlier chaos. "You alright?"

"What... What's happened to him," she asked quietly. "What's this regeneration thing?"

I watched the Doctor go stumbling out through the doors. "I... I'll explain in a bit. As soon as I know that he's not going to do something stupid."

I ran outside, making it through the door just as the Doctor fainted. I glanced between Jackie and Mickey. They both stared at me in shock. I knelt down, checking that he was alright.

"What happened," I looked up to see Rose in the doorway. "Is he alright?"

"Should be," I replied.

"He just keeled over," Mickey added. "Who is he? Where's the Doctor?"

"That's him," Rose explained. "That's the Doctor."

"What do you mean, that's the Doctor?" Jackie said.

"I'll explain in a bit, but can we first get him inside, please," I pleaded.

It took a bit of work, but we managed to get the Doctor upstairs and into bed. I don't know how they did it, but they managed to get him into a pair of pajamas while I was searching around the apartment for something that could help.

"I... I don't wanna know," I muttered when I walked into the room and saw him. "Do you have anything I can use?"

"Like what," Rose asked.

"Stuff to check vitals. Anything will be better than nothing."

Jackie let out a gasp. "I've got something. Be back in a tick!"

I barely had a chance to blink before she went running out of the room. I sat down next to the Doctor, letting out a small sigh as I looked at him.

"Are you going to explain what's going on now?" Rose muttered, leaning on the doorframe.

"He regenerated," I said. "It's a normal process for Time Lords. The body senses that it's near death and finds a way to fix itself. Losing consciousness like this isn't entirely normal. It happens sometimes. Usually, it means the whole process wasn't complete during the initial regeneration. His cells are still burning and regrowing. They're settling."

"But he'll be alright?" she replied.

"I hope so," I mumbled.

Jackie ran back in a few moments later, rambling about some neighbor of hers. She handed me a stethoscope. I placed the ends in my ears before pressing the flat piece to his torso, moving to check both hearts.

"I still think we should take him to a hospital," Jackie noted.

"We can't," Rose argued before I could. "They'd lock him up. Dissect him. One bottle of his blood could change the course of the human race."

"But-"

"You would trust human doctors with no experience of this situation while I am here and the only being alive that shares his anatomical makeup," I asked.

"I didn't-"

I shushed her, going back to listening to the Doctor's hearts. "Good. Both working fine. We'll just have to wait."

"Both?" Jackie replied.

"They've got two hearts," Rose explained. "Each."

"Really?"

I nodded.

"Anything else you lot have two of?"

"Ew," I murmured. "Come on. We need to let him rest. Finish the process."

Rose sighed, pausing a moment. "Could make tea?"

I chuckled. "Is that just a natural human response? Making tea when things are going wrong?"

"Mostly just the English," Jackie shrugged.

I nodded. "I see..."

I followed the two of them out of the room. As soon as they made it to the kitchen, Jackie seemed to be berating Rose with questions when she should have been asking me. Rose didn't know anything about this. She was already dealing with so many emotions. It wasn't fair.

"Stop it," I said firmly. "If you have questions, ask me. Don't torment her."

Jackie huffed. "I just want some answers."

"Rose isn't gonna have them," I replied. I looked at Rose, who looked back at me with tears in her eyes. "Hey..."

"I thought I knew him," she muttered. "I thought me and him were..."

The way her voice trailed off broke my hearts. I took a breath before speaking, "He may have changed, but his memories didn't. Who he cares for, what he believes in... they're built on more than his physical form. Those kinds of things are built on experiences. His favorite food might change, but not something as deep as his thoughts and feelings about you or me or anyone. He'll most likely still see you in the same way he did."

I was caught off guard by her hugging me tightly. I hesitantly wrapped my arms around her, closing my eyes as she hid her face in my shoulder. There was a long silence as we sat in that hug.

She leaned back, wiping her eyes. She looked at her mother. "The big question is... where'd you get a pair of men's pajamas from?"

"Howard's been staying over," Jackie replied, turning back to the counter.

"What, Howard from the market?"

I chuckled a bit as I turned around. I had never known a race to spend as much time gossiping as humanity. In some strange way, I admired it.

I glanced at the TV in the main room. "Is that Harriet Jones?"

Rose followed me out of the kitchen when she heard me speak up. "Why is she on the telly?"

"She's Prime Minister now," Jackie explained. "I'm 18 quid a week better off."

"Britain's Golden Age," I said quietly. "This is it."

"That's what they've been calling it," Jackie shrugged. "I keep on saying my Rose has met her."

"Did more than that," Rose replied. "Stopped World War III with her."

I furrowed my eyebrows as the report carried on. "Space probe... humans... always reaching for more."

"I thought you'd be a fan of exploration."

"As long as it doesn't draw in any unwanted attention."

Rose and Mickey left later that evening. Something about Christmas shopping.

I split my time between checking on the Doctor and awkwardly trying to help Jackie while she rambled on the phone to a friend.

It all felt... slow. Time was something that I was used to being able to somewhat ignore. It wasn't an important factor to me. I could bend it to be as fast or slow as I wanted, but now... all I could do was wait. Sit and wait.

It was infuriating.

It was a little while later that Rose and Mickey barged in, yelling at Jackie to get off the phone. I furrowed my eyebrows at them.

"What's going on," I asked.

"It's not safe. Someone- something is after the Doctor," Rose explained quickly. "We've got to get out. Where can we go?"

"My mate Stan. He'll put us up," Mickey suggested.

"That's only two streets away" Rose replied. "What about Mo? Where's she living now?"

"I don't know, Peak District," Jackie answered.

"We'll go to cousin Mo's then," Rose replied.

"It's Christmas Eve, we're not going anywhere!" Jackie exclaimed. "What are you babbling on about?"

"Where'd you get that tree," Rose asked. "That's a new tree. Where'd you get it?"

"I thought it was you," Jackie said.

"You accepted a new tree when you didn't know who sent it?" I chimed in. She paused for a moment. "Get the Doctor to the TARDIS and we can go anywhere in time and space. Escaping to a different planet will be better than a different... district or whatever."

The lights started turning on. And then, the branches started spinning.

"Go, now!" I shoved them all out of the main room.

Rose sprinted into the Doctor's room. I followed her, shoving Mickey and Jackie in with me. The two of them shoved a dresser in front of the door while I started rummaging through the pocket of his leather jacket.

I let out a relieved breath when I found the sonic screwdriver.

It was perfect timing.

The robotic tree had broken through the door. The others had quickly backed away from the door.

I picked up my arm and pressed the button on the screwdriver. I shielded my face as the tree blew up.

"You guys alright," I said, scrambling to the other three.

They all nodded, each clearly still in shock about the entire event. I made it to the Doctor, checking his pulse to make sure that he wasn't somehow hurt during the whole event. He seemed fine... and then I saw a puff of regeneration energy escape from him.

"No," I muttered to myself. "No, no, no!"

"What is it," Rose asked.

I ran outside, stopping at the railing when I saw a collection of Santa-looking robots standing on the ground below us. Rose was right behind me, along with the other two.

"What are they?" she whispered to me.

I shushed her quietly before lifting my hand, pointing the sonic screwdriver at them. They seemed to recognize the situation they were in. They moved closer to each other and teleported away. Presumably back to their ship.

"They've just gone," Mickey said. "What kind of rubbish were they?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

"I mean, no offense, but they're not much cop if a sonic screwdriver scares them off."

"They're pilot fish," I replied. "They're being controlled by something else... someone else. Like the tree. Toy soldiers, robots."

"And that gold dust we saw?" Rose pushed.

"Regeneration energy," I explained. "I... I didn't think he was releasing it and now that I didn't see it, I don't know how long or how much he's expelled. Time Lords are powerful and there are creatures who know that."

"They can find him?"

"Pilot fish were what attacked you earlier, weren't they?"

She nodded.

"That's why. They found out where the energy was and knew that they needed to destroy his 'guardians' to get to him. Either use him or kill him or... just experiment on him. We walked away from something that we weren't meant to survive. There are a few species with a few questions."

"What do we do?"

"Nothing. You lot go inside. Protect yourselves. Watch telly, have tea, do whatever it is humans do in a crisis that they can't fix."

"What about you," Rose asked, going to grab my arm.

"I'm going to the TARDIS," I explained. "If there are pilot fish here, then there's something coming. Something strong. I need to figure out what it is."

"You're just gonna go running off?"

"If I need to, yeah."

"I'm not gonna let you do that!"

"It's not your choice!"

"And why is that?"

"Because I am not going to be the one to get you killed!"

She froze.

"Go inside. Take care of the Doctor. Let me handle this."

I turned and walked away before she could say anything else.

I made it to the TARDIS. I scrambled around the console. I found faint traces of the regeneration energy. Along with it was the signal from the new space probe that had been sent up earlier that night. I furrowed my eyebrows. That couldn't be right.

I watched the signal's trajectory. It had been lost at some point. It was around the same place that the regeneration energy seemed to disperse.

"Who is up there..."

I flicked a switch, tuning into the news about the space probe. I saw the head of the mission scrambling, trying to explain away the loss of contact.

"You are terrible at de-escalating," I muttered.

It was then that the signal was interrupted. Through the static came an image of four creatures. I leaned in a little bit closer. The creature suddenly growled at the screen and then the image was gone.

"Well... shit," I murmured, frantically reaching for a few more buttons.

It was a matter of minutes before Rose stormed through the door. "Did you see that?"

"Yes," I answered. "How's the Doctor?"

"Pale, sick."

"Oh...," I mumbled. "It's okay. He'll be okay."

Rose looked down for a moment. "What... What was that thing?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "I didn't get a clear enough image. But... I know something. I was tracking the trace of regeneration energy that the Doctor has been emitting and it is going to the same place as the probe's signal is coming from."

"So... mars?"

"No," I shook my head. "The probe never made it that far. It's 5,000 miles above it. It's a spaceship. The probe is onboard and they're tracking the energy, coming this way. That puts the entire planet at risk."

"Can't we go stop them before they get here?"

"No. If they're looking for a Time Lord, then handing them a piece of Time Lord technology would be reckless at best."

"But if they get to the Doctor-"

"I won't let that happen!"

"Are you sure? Because you don't seem to be doing much to stop them!"

"Rose, they will kill you. They will kill me. They will kill the Doctor. We don't know what they want, so I'd like to not hand them one of the most sophisticated pieces of space and time travel equipment to ever exist!"

She huffed and turned around, going to storm out.

I closed my eyes and dug the heels of my palms against them.

I was just trying to protect her... protect everyone. I just... I didn't know how to do that on my own. I had become so accustomed to having someone to bounce my ideas off of. I was lost. Stuck. I didn't know what to do yet.

I had spent ages continuing to try to get some kind of answer when the screen turned to static again.

Those four aliens were there again. One of them started speaking again, but the TARDIS wasn't translating.

"Hey, hey," I said quietly. "I know that I'm not him, but I'm still Gallifreyan. I can still fly you. You can still work with me."

The video replayed. This time, the voices were translated. "People, you belong to us. To the Sycorax. We own you. We now possess your land, your minerals, your precious stones. You will surrender or they will die. Sycorax strong, Sycorax mighty, Sycorax rock!"

"'They'," I repeated the word to myself. "Who are you talking about?"

I tried to search for any sign of who they could be talking about.

It was hours before another message came through. One of the Sycorax stuck their hand out. A blue light emitted from it. The image disappeared after that.

"Nice to know that humanity wasn't slow to do something stupid," I muttered to myself. It was a harsh assumption, but it was a valid one.

I ran outside only to be met with a crowd of people walking by me. I furrowed my eyebrows as the blue light shined around their heads. I saw Rose up on the landing outside her door. We shared the same look with each other.

I followed her and Mickey to the roof of the building.

There was an entire fraction of the population standing on the edge. Each seemingly ready to jump. I stepped back, running my hands over my face.

"What is it? What's going on?" Rose said, grabbing my arm.

"I... I don't know," I mumbled. "It... I have an idea but... it can't be. I want to believe that the top minds in your country are not stupid enough to do something that would allow it."

"What is it?"

"Mickey, can you still get access to the military's files?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, of course, I can."

"I need you to get any information you can on that probe. Now. I can't work on it on my own."

"He left us," Rose muttered. "This is the time when we need him the most and he left us. He left... He left me."

"Rose, look at me," I grabbed her hands. "I have known the Doctor maybe as long as you have. I know one thing though... he is never going to abandon you. I promise."

"How do you know that?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Mickey chimed in before the conversation could continue, "Come on!"

We ran back down the stairs to the ground level. As soon as we had made it outside, I turned to Mickey, "Go get your computer and then come straight back here. We'll work in the TARDIS. Rose, you're gonna go up and watch the Doctor. If something happens, then you call-"

My instructions were cut off by a loud boom. Any glass nearby had broken, shattering all over the ground near us. I covered my head and squatted down to cover myself, yelling for the others to get down as well.

"What the hell-"

"A spaceship just entered your atmosphere," I said as I scrambled to stand up. "Sonic wave."

"What do we do," Rose asked.

I looked up as the spaceship flew overhead. It stopped just above us. "Get the Doctor to the TARDIS. Now. It's the safest place for him now. I'm sorry that we didn't do it sooner, but we need to move."

I watched as the trio scrambled to get the Doctor and Jackie's supplies into the TARDIS. She ran out to get the rest of the food, even though I yelled at her not to go.

"What now?" Rose said.

"I... I'm not sure," I replied. "I'm... I'm not usually the only one coming up with ideas at this point."

"But you're clever. I've seen you; you are clever. You... You were said you were trained for wartime."

"A war. I was trained for a war on one planet with different conditions and tools and-"

"And they never taught you to adapt? To do... I don't know... peace talks and things?"

I paused for a moment. "Do you trust me?"

"With my life."

I leaned forward and flicked a switch.

"What was that?"

"I let out a signal. There's no way the TARDIS would be able to land on the ship, but I could get them to teleport the TARDIS onto the ship."

"You're gonna talk to them."

I nodded. "I'm gonna try... see if that theory of mine was correct."

I took a deep breath, going to walk toward the doors. I rolled my shoulders back and tilted my chin up a bit. I pulled the door open, letting out a sigh of relief when I found myself on the spaceship.

Harriet Jones was standing there with her assistant.

"Harriet Jones," I said, a grin forming. "You are a sight for sore eyes."

"I could say the same to you," she muttered, hugging me. "Is the Doctor with you?"

"Not exactly," I replied as I stepped back. "But if you trust me, I can handle this."

I stepped ahead of the group, facing the Sycorax leader as bravely as I could.

"You. You have the clever box," the presumed leader spoke up.

Harriet's assistant tried to translate for me, but I stopped him. "I can understand him."

"How," Rose asked.

"TARDIS has a stronger psychic connection with the Doctor but I am still the same species as him. I may not be able to expand its reach like he seemingly can, but I don't need him to be able to use the translation."

"Silence!" the Sycorax shouted.

"Alright," I muttered.

"You speak for this planet!"

"Yes."

"You will understand my wishes."

"Surrender, correct?" I replied. "Basic signs of obedience in your eyes. Harriet, what did he ask for? Some of the population?"

"Half," she answered.

"Half to be used for their own benefit," I turned back to the Sycorax. "Half to be used as slaves in exchange for letting a third live."

"Correct," the Sycorax said.

"Why Earth?"

There was a silence.

"There are millions of planets that are far more advanced. That," I pointed at the TARDIS, "isn't human technology. There are other planets more beneficial to you, if you're looking for resources. And many are ready for the taking. These people are barely scratching the surface of space exploration and you're exploiting it. There's a whole planet renowned for being quick to surrender, why not go there?"

"We want the Earth," the leader said.

"But why," I pushed. "Why can't you just leave these people alone?"

He didn't respond.

"And then there's the third of the population," I continued, going to step around him. "I have a theory of course, but... oooooh, great."

I ran up the steps.

"Look at that! A big red button! Control matrix. Tell me, if I look under here, will I find a little bowl of blood?"

"Step away from that!"

"Alright," I held my hands up before leaning down, going to open the center console.

"That was English," Rose said.

"Well, yes, Rose, I speak English," I replied, still looking at the control matrix. I dipped my finger into the small bowl. "A+!"

"No, the Sycorax spoke English. I understood him," Rose explained.

I stood up, turning to look at her. "What?"

"He... He told you to step away from the controls, right? I understood him!"

"That means the TARDIS is translating for you again," I took a few steps closer.

The TARDIS doors behind them creaked open, revealing the Doctor in his pajamas and a robe.

"Took your sweet time, didn't you?" I crossed my arms.

"Could say the same to you," he shrugged as he stepped out.

The Sycorax tried to attack him, but it didn't work out well. Instead, the Doctor grabbed the weapons that the creature had and simply tossed them away. Being fresh off regeneration energy either made him stronger or dumber, I wasn't certain which one yet.

"Now, give me a moment. I am busy," he said to the leader before turning to the group of four that was now behind him. "Mickey! Hello!"

That was the happiest he had ever been to see Mickey.

"And Harriet Jones, MP for Flydale North. Blimey, it's like This is Your Life."

"Harriet Jones, Prime Minister," I corrected.

"I see," he grinned. "Tea! That's all I needed. A good cup of tea."

I almost chuckled at the idea.

If there was one thing about the Doctor that didn't change at all, it was his ability to talk. He ranted and rambled and jumped between different tones of voice. He talked about little he knew about himself now. He was a clean slate with nothing known yet.

I had regenerated before, but I had never thought about the process before. Truly, I never had the time. I was kind of thrown from one thing to the other. Getting confused after regenerating never made it onto my schedule.

"Doctor," I called from the steps.

"Yeah?" he turned to me. "Oh, I interrupted you. Go on. Bet you were doing brilliantly."

"Oh, you didn't interrupt at all," I shook my head. "It's just that, well, if I were to find a big red button, then I would know better than to press it. However, a Time Lord fresh off a regeneration may not be so rational... considering he's figuring himself out and everything."

"You're right," he replied. "Does the very rational one happen to know what the button does?"

"It's operating a blood control system."

"No!" he exclaimed excitedly, running over to me. "I haven't seen blood control in years."

"I've only read about it. Similar to hypnosis, yeah?"

"Exactly," he nodded. "When'd you work that out?"

"It was a running theory when I saw everyone on the roof. If they could control any chunk of the population, then why would they not make it half alive for a half enslaved? Why only a third?"

"Oh, you are so clever."

"I know," I shrugged. "So... what do you think?"

"Well, here's the danger with a freshly regenerated Time Lord," the Doctor looked at the Sycorax. "I truly don't know who I am. So... if I see a great big threatening button which should never, ever, ever be pressed, then I just wanna do this."

The Doctor slammed his hand down on the button.

I heard the others yelling at him.

"You killed them!" Harriet's assistant said.

I turned to the leader of the Sycorax. "Are they dead?"

"We allow them to live," he grumbled.

"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes. "He couldn't kill them. He had no choice. When I said blood control was like hypnosis, I was being honest. You can't hypnotize someone into doing something that they'd never do such as kill themselves. Humans operate on an evolutionary basis that forces them to protect their genes, so the fight-or-flight system kicks in."

"Everyone's okay," Rose asked.

"Everyone's okay," I nodded.

"Blood control was one form of conquest," the leader spoke up. "I can summon the armada and take this planet by force."

"Which brings me to my question again, why? Can't you just leave them alone?"

"Or what?"

"Or... I'll stop you."

"How do you plan on doing that?"

I looked at one of the soldiers next to me before rushing over and grabbing the sword on his waist.

I stepped back, getting away from the crowd.

I poised the sword out toward the leader. "I challenge you."

"(Y/n)," the Doctor scolded. The Sycorax laughed loudly as he stormed over to me. "This is incredibly stupid. Reckless."

"No, it's not," I replied. "This is what I was trained for. I existed before you met me, Doctor. You need to remember that."

He stepped away from me slowly.

"You're just gonna let (Y/n) do this?" I heard Rose mutter.

"I can't stop them," the Doctor replied.

I looked at the leader of the Sycorax again.

"Am I right that the sanctified rules of combat still apply," I asked.

The leader unsheathed a sword of his own. "You stand as this world's champion?"

"Proudly. Do you accept my challenge?"

The crowd roared around us.

We both took a knee, swords next to us.

"For the planet?" the leader tilted his head slightly as he spoke. He was taunting me.

"For the planet," I confirmed.

We stood up.

I could barely remember who actually took the first swing.

I was beginning to realize that I hadn't been in a fight so similar to what I had originally been training for.

I could just remember the technology, the instructions, the fake wounds. It was as if with every swing, my blood started boiling more and more. I hadn't felt like this in a long time.

I could remember the days when I felt that every day.

Fake Daleks, fake Cybermen, fake monsters, fake gods. I could see them all so vividly. In between the visions were the familiar flipping of pages and frantic searching and reading. The tests and quizzes and practices.

Oh, I was furious. It was making me sloppy.

I ran onto the outside platform of the ship as I found myself getting angrier and angrier.

I needed to be able to focus on one target. I needed to bring myself back to the current moment. To recognize that this was not fake. That this was not every evil being that I had been forced to face, but was one being. One thing that wanted to have more power than he deserved.

I also needed to get out of the crowd as soon as I could. That crowd could turn on me the moment I won. My victory could last a matter of moments before they turned on me entirely.

I learned how much the leader of the Sycorax valued straightforward aggression. He wanted the anger. The yelling and wild thrashing that seemed more calculated than they were.

I had learned long ago how to adapt to someone like that.

This means that despite any scratches and bruises, I was more in control than he thought.

So, when I squatted down and swung my leg so I could knock him off his feet, he was the only one surprised.

I stood above him, only leaning down to throw his sword as far away as I could. I pressed the tip of my blade to his throat. His head was hanging off the platform. I could have turned him into an example for the entire human race and Sycorax alike.

"I win," I said.

"Then, kill me," the leader's words were hoarse.

"I was raised as a weapon," I explained. "I was created to fight. To stop any threat that could have come my way. But mercy... I had to learn that. And it took me so long to perfect."

I pushed a little harder.

"So do not take it for granted when I offer it to you now," I warned. "I will spare your life as long as you listen to this command. Leave this planet and never return. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Swear on the blood of your species."

"I swear."

"Good."

I stepped back, pulling the blade away from the leader's neck.

I turned around to see the Doctor walking over to me already. I let him pull me into a tight hug, making sure to keep the blade away from either of our bodies.

Rose ran out just behind him. I smiled widely as I went to hug her.

"I told you that you could do this," she muttered to me. "I told you that you were clever."

"Thank you," I mumbled back.

She stepped back.

"We should go. Now."

The Doctor smiled for a moment. "Sounds like- (Y/n), look out-"

I turned around. The leader came running at me, shouting as he went to attack me. I slammed my blade through his torso. I pulled the blade up and twisted it slightly.

"I warned you," I murmured to him before shoving him down. I dragged the blade out of him. "I... I tried to warn you."

"Hey," Rose touched my back. "Come on. It's done. It's over."

"No. Not yet."

I stormed into the main hall, staring up at the collection of Sycorax. I slammed the sword into the ground.

"I am this planet's champion, and you will heed my command. You are to leave this planet and never return for the rest of time. And I would advise you to take this battle as a warning. A warning that you will spread among the stars. As you speak of Earth and its people and all that it could offer, ensure that you tell them all that this planet is- and always will be- protected."

The Sycorax's teleport sent us all back to the surface after that.

I watched in silence as the ship began to fly away. I let out a shaky breath as tears pricked the corners of my eyes.

"(Y/n)," I turned to the Doctor.

"I killed someone," I murmured. "Directly, I mean. I... I wasn't just there. It wasn't some misguided attempt to save him. I killed him-"

He shushed me as he pulled me into a hug. "I want you to listen."

I closed my eyes, listening to the rumbling of the above spaceship. The sound of Rose and Mickey cheering cut through. Sharp and deafening in the best way. I heard Jackie's voice join them. Thankful and caring and proud.

"I hear hope... joy. I hear the cheers of the very people you just saved. Now, imagine that sound echoing all over the world. All of them. Safe because of you."

He stepped back, holding my upper arms.

"I'd say that's an alright balance, wouldn't you?"

I felt my lips tugging up as I thought about it. Yeah, maybe-

Any hope I had was shattered with the sound of an explosion. It silenced any cheering. Any joy. It was loud, violent, terrifying.

I looked over at Harriet. She stood there with a sullen expression painted on her face.

"What the hell is wrong with you," I asked. "They were leaving!"

"You said it yourself," she replied. "They go out and tell the rest of the universe about us. What happens when you and the Doctor aren't here? When another race decides that they want Earth?"

"You think that you're so important that it justifies murder-"

"Yours was?"

"I never wanted to do that! I wanted to show mercy! I wanted them to have the chance to make the right choice! Do not use me as an example to justify your monstrous behavior!"

She had no response to that.

"I shouldn't have just said to leave. I should have told them to run. Run as fast as you can because here comes humanity, the true monsters! The species ready to destroy anything different than themselves!"

I was almost screeching by the end of it. I felt the Doctor move his arm in front of me. I must have moved forward without thinking much of it.

I stepped away, turning to the others. Rose hugged me, muttering how sorry she was.

"I should have stopped you," the Doctor said.

"What does that make you, Doctor? Both of you? Another alien threat?"

"Don't challenge me, Harriet Jones, 'cause I'm a completely new man," he pushed. I stepped away from Rose, turning back to Harriet. "I could bring down your government with a single word."

"You're the most remarkable man I've ever met, but even you aren't capable of that."

"No, you're right," the Doctor replied. "Not a single word. Just six."

"I don't think so."

"Six words."

"Stop it!"

"Six."

He stepped around her. He walked to her assistant, muttering something into his ear. He came back to us.

"You go back with these three. I'll meet you there," he explained to me. I furrowed my eyebrows. "I can't very well keep walking around in pajamas and a robe."

"Fair," I chuckled. "See you in a bit."

"You too."

I followed Rose, Mickey, and Jackie back to the apartment.

They forced me to go sit down while they got dinner together, only letting me join them when the table was set.

"I could've helped," I said when I sat down.

"Well, we couldn't let the planet's champion make their own meal," Mickey replied. "Now, eat."

I chuckled and shook my head.

The door opened a few moments later. I turned to look at the Doctor. He was wearing a suit now. Dark brown with a light button-up and a tie. He had a long trench coat on now. He grinned at us before coming to sit at the end of the table.

I found myself faced with Rose holding out some roll of something. It was wrapped in green foil with gold and red details. I furrowed my eyebrows at it.

"Grab that end," Rose instructed. "It's a Christmas cracker. This is a very human thing. Like the tea."

I was hesitant but listened to her anyway.

"On three, pull toward you," she continued. "1... 2... 3!"

I tugged the roll toward myself. I flinched a bit as it popped. I found myself with most of the roll in my hand. I moved it, looking inside.

I found a crown made of tissue paper. It was yellow. Bright yellow.

"Put it on!" Rose pushed.

"Okay, okay," I replied. I placed the crown on my head, struggling to get it to stay in place. The Doctor reached over and fixed it for me. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he muttered.

Rose pointed at the TV. "It's Harriet Jones."

She was rambling, trying to defend staying in office. I looked at the Doctor. He gave me a look that simply said 'don't ask'. I turned back to the screen.

That was until Jackie pushed us all outside.

I almost froze in the door at the sight of what seemed to be snow. It was as I stepped on it that I realized that it wasn't. It was ash. Leftover ash from the spaceship still burning up.

I closed my eyes for a moment before looking around me. I saw people. Couples and kids and whole families running around in it. They were laughing. Cheering. Spinning and celebrating.

There it was again.

That sense of hope.

That very small shred of it that made me feel like I needed to hold onto it as tightly as I could.

"(Y/n)," I turned to the Doctor. He was standing next to Rose, holding hands with her as they both looked at me. "Ready to go?"

"Yeah," I nodded. "Absolutely."

He grinned before going to open the door.

I let out a small sigh as I followed them both inside.

One shred.

That was all I needed.

Or... all that I was going to have... for now.

If I wanted more, I had to go find it.

And yeah, I was absolutely ready to do that.

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Author's Note: I would like to take a moment to thank everyone for reading and accepting this OC. I know I play around with canon and I promise it is only going to become more evident as we go on. I have this OC planned out through Flux, just to give you an idea of how committed I am to this OC and their story. They have been through many of iterations before this one and I am so happy that this is the version that resonated with people. Thank you for your time and care. I promise that it is recognized and appreciated. I'll see you all soon!

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[queers-gambit]

Petitions

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: your family returns to Kings Landing to hear petitions regarding your brother's legitimacy.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!Velaryon!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: (this got away from me at) 11.3k+

note: i tweaked the timeline in the show a bit to match my own timeline. also it's long, but i need time to plan the next part(s). i hope this suffices!

warnings: spoilers, cursing, (poorly written) smut. basically when Aemond's in the training yard and the court scene. potentially too detailed but that's intentionally for the readers who don't watch the show. descriptions of violence, just a bit more background - marking this as fluff? it's pure filler? again, not edited, canon-level incest, dialogue. ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers

His gaze followed you around your shared room, smirking at your nervous, jerking movements. "You know we've maids for this kind of thing, my love. And you've cleaned three times this night already, I do believe it is as spotless as it will get, sweet girl."

"Okay, well, it's just not right, yet," you rushed, sighing to yourself as you rearranged the pillows on your bed again. "'S just not right, not right, 's gotta be right," you muttered to yourself under your breath.

"Why's that, pet?"

"It's just not, Aemond, please - stop questioning me!"

His hands rose in mock defense from his place in the carved, wooden chair beside the table and before the hearth, watching you for a few more minutes as you moved like a tornado. You picked things up and rearranged them somewhere new. When your busy body moved towards the table he sat at with a pile of books in your hand, he reached out swiftly and wrapped both arms around you - making you briefly panic. He pulled you to his lap, leaving little room for you to wiggle free.

"Aemond - "

"Ease yourself, my sweet wife," he spoke smoothly, loosening his hold to let you turn comfortably on his lap. "The room is absolutely spotless, you need not worry for a thing. And you've been barking at the servants all week to clean the other chambers, I promise, things are where they need to be."

You sighed and leaned over to set the books to the table, picking up his goblet when your hand was free, and leaning your back to his chest. "I do not bark, and you'd stand well not to mock me," you muttered softly, taking a sip of sweet wine.

"I do not mean to," he sighed, nuzzling the skin in front of your ear as you sat somewhat sideways on him. "You are worrying for nought, my sweet love. Please, ease yourself, my busy bee."

"My mother's coming to the Red Keep, Aemond," you refused, head shaking to swirl tresses of silver-white hair. "And it will be the first time in years I've seen her. Please, I only want her to see that we can keep house and feel as if she's raised a proper lady - who knows how to be a wife."

"You do realize it is not our responsibility, sweets, for this is not technically our house," he muttered against your temple, placing a kiss there as you drained his goblet. "It's my mother's house to keep, and she does, so you do not need to worry yourself. Besides, they are not going to stay in our chambers."

"I know," you sighed, finally deflating against his chest. "I just want things in place. I feel in place when things are proper and away."

"They are," he assured softly, letting you lean back into him with a snuggly arm around you. He reached for your goblet and extended his arm to set it to the table's top. "Are you going to meet them?"

"Yes, of course," you assured, reaching up to gently pet his jaw as you pressed your forehead to his neck. "You are to train, are you not?"

He sighed softly, "This morn, pet, yes."

"Will you join us after?" You pouted lightly. "Before we are to hear Lord Vaemond?"

"Perhaps it is not wise for us to visit with your mother before the proceedings," Aemond admitted before he pondered a moment and decided to adjust his answer. "Or at least... It is not wise for me."

"We shall see," you sighed softly, leaning up to kiss the underside of his jaw as you understood why the meeting would make him uncomfortable. "But you are excused, my love, if that's what you are looking for."

He chuckled, "Hmm, all right. Thank you, my sweet girl. You will find me after, won't you?"

"Oh! Do not tell me it is time to rise already? I have only just sat."

"'Tis time to depart, actually, yes," he mused, leaned in to kiss your lips. You whined lightly, keeping hold of his cheek as your lips adjusted against his; his breathing deepening when his hands tightened their hold on your hips; readjusting your hips so that both legs laid over his lap in a straddle.

"Aemond," you warned half-heartedly when he began to ease you back and forth over his lap, rocking you over his growing bulge.

He sighed, "What if we did not leave this room? Hmm? For the day?"

"We have to, because we are responsible and lead by example," you chuckled lightly, letting your tongue lick over his bottom lip.

"You're not making a valid case, pet," he returned your laughter, tightening his hands so they jolted into your ribs. You lurched forward with laughter, incidentally grinding over on his lap; the both of your breaths catching when he pressed you downward.

"Aemond," you now moaned softly, brows furrowed in concentration as your hands held his jaw and neck for balance. "You know we're needed in the courtyards."

"I think we've a moment or two," he muttered against your lips, breathing the same breath as he lead you back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over his lap. His hips stiffened to raise slightly, fighting back his moan when his cock rode up into your weeping hole. "You vex me, woman," he chuckled breathily, letting his tongue dart out to flex over your neck. "How the Gods have blessed me."

"We will be late, my love," you giggled lightly. "Your mother already blames me for your new late attendance record."

He smirked at you, letting your manicured hand caress his jaw; reveling in the warmth from your fingers, "But you are the reason for our late arrivals, pet. You're irresistible."

"Maybe you're just insatiable."

"Hmm," Aemond considered with a smirk, letting your lips pucker to pepper kisses around his jaw and chin. "Are you trying to distract me, my love? I hate to admit it might be working."

"Perhaps I'd only like to savor another moment with my husband before duty holds our obligations the rest of the day."

He nodded and let his hands fall to the meat of your arse, "Fair point... Should we go back to bed then, my sweet wife?"

"Do not tempt me with a good time," you mocked him, making him laugh and lean forward to peck your lips. "Come," you finally sighed sadly.

"Yeah, all right, c'mon. Mother needs one of her children to be responsible," he agreed, letting you raise off his lap to move around the table so he had room to stand. After taking time to finish getting ready, you both laced on your boots and moved out the door. Like a gentleman, Aemond escorted you to the front landing-courtyard, where you would wait for your mother's envoy; and after a kiss to your lips and a muttered, "I love you," your husband was leaving you there to head for his training session with Ser Criston Cole, Queen's Guard.

In truth, the knight was always polite to you, but you saw his glare when he thought he was concealed. Funny how people think themselves invisible, but in reality, they are glaringly obvious. Your mother had once told you the truth behind the drama she and Cole found themselves in from years ago, and while it wasn't your place to offer judgement, it was obvious now that Cole had never forgiven your mother. Being her daughter, you were the next best thing to take his anger out on. Yet he favored your husband and his obvious skill, so, you were merely endured.

You waited only a few moments before the front gates opened and your mother's carriage was lead into the courtyard, making you perk up; straighten up; hands clasping in front of you as your shoulders straightened. You wanted to show her that she had raised you right and she need not worry - because you were a proper Targaryen lady whilst under the Hightower's heel.

One of the stationed guards called in announcement, "All hail Rhaenyra of House Targaryen, Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the Iron Throne."

"Mother," you sighed to yourself with sweet relief.

"And her royal consort, Prince Daemon Targaryen!"

"Princess," a maid approached you with hurried steps and a flustered face, "you're needed - "

"Not now," you insisted, wanting to see your mother and nothing more. Even a glance - a simple glimpse of her would suffice right now. You had missed her gravely.

"Please, it is Kasta, Princess - she grows restless and aggressive," the servant rushed in worry. You sighed, nodding at her; taking the skirts of your dress in hand. "Thank you, Princess, thank you - you're the only one who can calm her."

"All right," you tisked, turning from the courtyard and following the young maid away just as your mother's carriage had opened, and she stepped out - catching a simple glimpse of your hurried back and recognizing the tense posture. "What is the matter?" You asked the maid, dodging around different personnel.

"She's refusing anything brought to eat," she explained quietly, "and she grows aggressive as time passes. We do not know what to do anymore, I am sorry for bothering you, Princess."

You huffed, "She's just restless I'd wager, I've not taken her out in a spell. Come, she'll want beef more than venison."

The maid nodded, and together, scurried off with you towards the Dragon Pit. She broke off to consult a local farmer, Mr. Drox, who provided livestock for the royal dragons, and when you reached the Pit, all guards were gathered outside in fear.

"Princess!" They breathed in relief.

"She's all right," you assured, spying the maid leading a fully grown steer closer. "Is she below?"

"No, she's refusing to go down," a guard explained, making you nod.

"Come," you gestured the maid forward. Taking the lead rope, you directed the frightened cow inward; soon spying your emerald dragon as she bellowed in distain. Sand and pebbles fell from the ceiling. "Kasta, easy, easy. What is it, my girl?" You spoke in High Valyrian. "Easy, my sweet girl. Hey, hey, hey," you sassed when she growled at you, "what's all that for, hmm? I know you want to go out, my girl, but soon. I promise, you've got to mind your manners til then, sweetness," you had to pause to turn and heave the steer forward until you could latch the lead rope to the post driven into the sand.

Kasta sniffed the air, cocking her head in curiosity when she understood your offering. Her head swung over to look at you, chittering lightly, and you smiled.

"Yeah," you sighed, "that's all and only for you, sweet girl. Kasta, you need to go down, my girl. Hey? If I offer this steer, will you go down? I will be back in the next few days to take you out. Yes? Is that fair?"

She huffed lightly, shaking her neck and head out before huffing two nostrils of smoke.

"Yeah, that's my good girl," you praised, stepping back to a safe distance. Nodding, you gave her the command to set the horned-cow on fire, listening to it wail in pain for only a few moments before dragon fire engulfed it whole - killing it over.

You watched as your terrible beasty tore the cow apart, listening to the crunch of bone and slurping of flesh before there was nothing but a charred mark in the sand where the cow once stood. You nodded in pride, approaching Kasta's shoulder.

"Good girl," you boasted to her brightly, patting her hide. "Was that enough of an offering? Could you go down now? For me?"

She huffed, and you swore, if dragons could talk, she'd be grumbling to herself like a sassy teenager. You praised the great dragon the entire walk down under the Pit, leaving her in the Dragon Caves so she could curl up in her alcove begrudgingly. "Oh, I know. That's my very good and patient girl," you assured, scratching the scales of her head. "I will be back, and we will stretch your wings, my love. Soon, I swear it." She sighed sadly, a light stream of smoke billowing out. "I know, but today is very important... My brother's lineage is in question, and I must be present for the proceedings."

Her head lifted to tilt at you as if in question.

"I know," you assured with a patient hand. "It's been very stressful. I'll come back and tell you all about it, my sweet. How's that sound?"

Kasta let out a long huff and laid her head down, making you grin with acceptance and give her head a quick hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Patting her scales once more, you bid her a safe night before heading out and discovering the guards still gathered. Still trembling. Still scared out of their minds.

"She's all right," you informed the men with a sigh. "She's under the Pit in the Caves and she will not come out without me. She'll have an attitude, but she's doing well. Leave her be for now."

"Yes, Princess - thank you, Princess."

You nodded in response, wiping your hands on a spare cloth as you moved away from the Pit with a deep sigh; navigating through the city. By position in the sky, you wagered you had spent quite a bit of time there, and when you returned to the Keep, there was a commotion in the training yard that caught your attention.

Slowing your gait while you aimlessly wiped your hands still, you saw your husband in the middle of the commotion - but it was Ser Cole that was posing the challenger. You paused at your vantage point in the causeway to watch, not wincing like you used to as Cole took fatal swings because Aemond was truly a gifted warrior. You used to worry, but there was no use now.

Aemond was just too good.

At the end, your husband had flipped his sword in hand to position at Cole's thick, pale neck - signaling the end of the match. This earned a round of applause from the lingering bystanders, and for the Queen's sworn sword to compliment, "Well done, my Prince. You'll be winning tourneys in no time."

As you descended the stairs leading into the yard, you heard Aemond respond, "I don't give a shit about tourneys. My wife is all the prize I need. Nephews," he directed, sword hilt twirling effortlessly in his hand as his eye shifted over to the crowd, "have you come to train?"

But luck served its purpose, and a guard was shouting, "Open the gate!"

You sighed as you reached the crowd, passing a few drooling Ladies of the court to stalk up to your husband. Approaching his flank, you reached for his elbow first; his head snapping over but relaxing when he took in your face.

"My love," he greeted calmly, smirking gently, "I did not think to see you so soon. Did you catch the show?"

"I did," you nodded, smiling up at him. "You did well, my Prince. It was very impressive, indeed." You leaned up a bit to speak in his ear, "But you'll do well not to challenge my brothers like that again, yes?"

He nodded to you, "As you wish, pretty girl. Have you been to see your mother?"

"Not yet," you sighed, "I was called away to the Pit, Kasta was restless and the guards grew fearful."

"Hmm," he nodded once, easing his arm around your waist tightly as the gates had been wrenched open and your Uncle Vaemond's entourage entered into the Red Keep - waving the blue Velaryon banners. You sighed as Aemond took up a shield, his attention turned to the marching procession and unable to fight off his taunting smirk.

"Aemond," you sighed, jabbing his ribs with your elbow.

"What?" He asked innocently, another smirk in place.

"Behave yourself, please," you sighed, seeing Cole readying for a new fight. Leaning in, you held his waist to peck his lips, "Good luck, my Prince."

"Thank you, sweet girl," he whispered, smirking down at you before stealing his own kiss, and pulling away as he readied his sword. "My wins are in your name, of course."

"And your losses?" You teased him as you backed away a few paces, hearing him chuckle.

"I have none, Princess," he assured with a curt nod, which you understood was more of a wink for him. At least, between the two of you, that's what you understood.

Aemond relied on mostly nonverbal communication and after being married for a few years now, you could read him like you did Valyrian.

You sighed to yourself with a small grin as you approached your brothers, greeting, "Oh, who are these handsome lads? Surely not my wee brothers? All but scrawny last I saw them!" They turned swiftly and grinned at you, breathing your name as they both surged forward to latch onto you in greeting. One set of arms around your neck and the other around your waist. You laughed as you hugged them back, "Oh, my sweet boys! How good it is to see you, hold you again. Ah!"

"It is good to see you, too, sister," Jace beamed; you could hear it in his voice. The two pulled back to face you in full, and your hand reached to caress your younger brother's nervous face.

"Yes, I am glad you're here, too," Luke nodded after, glancing at his brother.

"Oh, worry not, my boy," you sighed, your thumb rubbing the skin of his chin, "for we all know you are the rightful heir to Driftmark, but because Lord Corlys does not have an obvious heir right now, this is just protocol. Though, because grandfather already settled this, I'd not worry at all, Lucerys," you reached for his shoulder then, giving it a squeeze. "You are not standing alone, and you know if it would help and come down to it, I will stand for you."

"You will?" he whispered, small tears gathering in his eyes. "I could not ask that of you..."

"I would never let you stand alone, Luke," you smiled. "Or you, Jace, ever. You both will always have me on your side," you nodded at your other brother. "Though people like to whisper, we share the same blood, and to our mother, the Heir to the Throne, and grandsire, current King, you are her true born sons. That is all that matters, my loves," you spoke with reassurance. "Now, might you want to sneak into the kitchens this me? I hear they're making lemon cakes..."

"Oh! Let's go," Jace beamed, nudging his brother into action. Either boy took your hand, and felt your husband's eye on your retreating form. For the following hours, you and your brothers pursued around the Red Keep with lemon cakes, meeting with your cousins, the Ladies Rhaena and Baela; all reminiscing on shared memories and fond moments from your childhood.

They asked how your life was in the Red Keep, and while you assure all four that you were okay, you smiled sadly as you told them that you missed them all dearly. They filled you in on what your mother was up to, how your step father, Daemon, faired; what they were learning, and how life was treating them as of late.

Rhaena still did not yet have a dragon, but you knew it could not be long before she had one to claim.

Baela was doing well, all things considered.

And outside of this legitimacy fiasco, your brothers were well, too.

When the time for the court proceedings drew nearer, Aemond found you in the Godswood with the other four. "Love," he called, stalking towards you stiffly.

"Oh, Aemond," you smiled.

"Though I hate to interrupt, we're needed, love," he nodded at you with meaning, and you understood.

Again, you knew how to read your husband incredibly well.

"Right," you nodded at him, letting his hand take yours as you turned to your brothers and cousins slash step-sisters. "I will see you lot in the throne room, yes?"

"We'll be there," Jace nodded, glancing at Aemond - who only watched you. "Thank you for the hospitality, sister."

"It is always a pleasure to host you, my siblings," you spoke softly, winking at them with a smile before letting Aemond lead you away. When you exited the Godwood with your dress' skirts in hand to save you from tripping, you asked, "I imagine the Queen has summoned us?"

"She wants a word before the court proceedings begin, yes," Aemond nodded, sighing sadly. "How are your brothers, my dear?"

"Good, thank you for asking," you whispered, smiling up at him. "It is good to see them. And my step-sisters are doing well, too."

"That is good news. It is good to see you so happy," he nodded, readjusting his hold on your hand so you stepped closer all the slightly. "Mother will want us to change before court."

"Saw that coming," you teased. "Wanna match?"

"Hm, what color are you thinking, love?"

"Black," you smirked, making him paused before his mother's chambers to chuckle. "You look very handsome in black."

"Deal," he winked, pecking your forehead as he knocked at the door. When it opened, Ser Cole was on the other side, and let you pass through the open doors.

"The Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N, Your Grace," he announced to your step-mother, who paced in front of the fireplace.

"Thank you, Ser Criston," she thanked, dismissing him, and leaving you three alone. "Would you like to sit?" She offered softly, gesturing to the seating before the fire.

Like you always did, you let Aemond take the reins when talking to his mother. "No, thank you, Mother. We are going to change before the trials, after this meeting."

"'Tis not a trial, Aemond, but only accounts we are hearing. Petitions," Alicent Hightower nodded to herself. "Speaking of, my Lady, might I ask which position you intend to take?"

Knowing now was the time, you assured the King's wife, "The same position I plan to always take, Your Grace. That of my husband."

She nodded once, "Good. That is good to hear."

"Though, should I need to, I am prepared to come to my brother's defense," you spoke strongly, feeling Aemond stiffen slightly. "I do not intend for it, but should my Uncle Vaemond want to drawl me into his petition, trying to cite me, again, as absurd evidence, then I am prepared to support the Prince Lucerys' claim."

Alicent offered a solemn smile, "I would expect little else, dear girl. Very well, then..."

"If it's any peace of mind, Your Grace, I do not intend to stray from my husband's side. It is only if I am forced to, that I am prepared to defend my brother. And I only expect my Uncle Vaemond to do such, my mother nor brother would never."

"I understand," Alicent offered a smile. "Thank you for your honesty."

"Of course, Your Grace," you nodded, bowing to her after.

"If question of my wife's loyalties was all, Mother, we're going to take our leave to change before hearing these... Petitions," Aemond spoke with a hardened tick he rarely took with his mother, cocking his head slightly at the end.

"All right, yes, go on," she dismissed, waving you both out as she turned to resume her nervous pacing. You would've asked if she was all right, but decided against it.

"Everything all right, my love?" You asked when the door shut behind you and Aemond - him tugging you towards your rooms. "Hey, hey, hey, hang on a bit, my legs don't move as fast as yours, love!"

He slowed his gait, sighing lightly, "Sorry, sweet girl. Forget how fast I move sometimes."

"Yeah, 's all right, love, but are you all right?" You asked again. "Got a bit lippy with your Mum, didn't you?"

"Well, she does this often enough," he seethed slightly. "Questions your loyalties even after all these years. It's fucking ridiculous."

"She questioned my mother, she'll question me," you sighed, not wanting to stir him up. "I do not wish to say it is okay, but in a strange way, I do understand it."

"Shouldn't have to," he grumbled, arriving at your chamber doors and pushing them open.

"Well, it's our reality," you rebutdtaled as you moved past him to enter your rooms. "Is that truly what plagues you, husband?" You wondered gently after he shut the door, hands to your hips.

"For now," he sighed. "How was your mother?"

"I told you, I haven't been able to see her yet," you admitted. "I was gathered before I could see her to deal with Kasta."

"Yes... What was wrong, again?" He wondered softly, moving to select something more appropriate for your time in court.

"She is annoyed with me," you chuckled, stripping from your dress to favor the new black gown you chose to wear. "She wants to fly but I have not had time as of late."

"Hmm."

"I will take her out soon," you promised your husband as your had your dragon. "There's more on my mind currently."

He nodded, fixing a new tunic and jerkin on over his pale torso. "Things like your brother's standing as Lord of the Tides?"

You huffed before snapping, "He's the rightful heir, I do not know why this is suddenly back in bloody question. I'm sure mother's been overwhelmed with this, and I have not been there to aid her."

"Why would she be stressed?"

"How would you feel if your children's birth was called into question around every fucking corner?" You sent him a hardened look, pausing your ministrations to stare at him with malcontent. Your eyes dared him to argue with you.

"Well... When you look like you, and they look like them... Love," he sighed, pleading for you to see his reason.

"You act as if our familial traits cannot do funny things through bloodlines and time," you snipped, crossing your arms. "The Gods favored me only by allowing me white hair and the paler complexion of my father - and the boys were not so lucky. That does not make them any less Targaryen, Aemond, and I will not have this argument with you again!"

Aemond sighed and wanting to placate your ebbing and waning anger, agreed, "You are right, my love. I'm sorry for pushing."

"It's all right," you sighed, shaking your head as you went back to work, "it's not like I'm stupid or blind. I know we look different, but it does not mean that we do not share the same blood."

"No," he nodded, reaching for you to help lace up your gown. "But for now, they will plead their petitions - "

"Uncle Vaemond is the only one with a fucking petition because Luke is the rightful heir," you corrected.

"Right," he nodded in agreement, patting your waist when he was done lacing you in. "Ready, pet?"

"In a moment, yes," you sighed, reaching for a new, extravagant jewelry set - one Aemond had gifted you on your name day, the first one you shared together after you took his last name as your own.

When you were in your new gown and boots and your jewels attached properly, and your husband was changed into a new tunic, jerkin, and trousers with boots; you laced your hands together, and out the door you went. There was a growing crowd outside the courtroom, and as you drew nearer, the procession was halted to allow you passage first.

Your husband's name was announced first, and then your own; letting the two of you descend into the courtroom together. Behind you, other patrons were allowed entrance after you were a distance inside. You saw your mother and brothers standing there, smiling at her before taking your place at Aemond's side behind his family. You saw your name form on your mother's lips before she was returning your smile, only looking away when Otto Hightower, your step-grandsire and Hand of the King, took his place in front of the Iron Throne.

How wrong it looked to spy a Hightower at the legendary Throne, but you knew he was only exercising his common occupancy of being a placeholder. With the thought in mind, you let your hand press to Aemond's stomach as his hand curled around your waist; turning your attention, obediently, towards the front of the courtroom. Aegon, Helaena, and Alicent stood in front of you both, but neither you nor Aemond seemed to mind; as the second row provided optimal viewing.

Otto's voice boomed over all as he started the proceedings, "Though it is the great hope of this court that Lord Corlys Velaryon survive his wounds, we gather here with the grim task of dealing with the succession of Driftmark. As Hand, I speak with the King's voice on this and all other matters." He turned slightly to guide himself to the edge of the Throne's seat. "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

"Oh, Gods, here we go," you whispered, your husband smirking and tightening his arm as your great-uncle stepped forward to the attention of the courts.

"Shh," Aemond shushed quietly with a smirk stretching across his lips to assure you he was entirely entertained by the events.

"My Queen," Vaemond greeted Alicent first with a respectful nod of his head. "My Lord Hand," he addressed Otto. "The history of our noble Houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the days of old Valyria. For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our Houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end of their bloodlines and their name..." His voice raised to address the whole of the court, and Aemond's hand curled and pet over your waist in an effort to soothe you. "I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys' closest kin, his own blood. The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

You wanted to protest, but your mother, ever the protective Mama Bear, spoke first with interjection, "As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your House's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and your own ambition."

Without missing a single beat, Queen Alicent was calling, "You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard."

You lifted your chin with a clenched jaw, watching your mother's head turn from Alicent to stare forward again, as Vaemond's smug face turned to stare her down. "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess, outside of your only daughter?" He sneered, making Aemond's arm constrict to pulled you a step closer so you were nearly standing on top of his feet. This was what he feared, you being pulled in, but you remained silent with a hand pressed flat to your husband's chest. "I could cut our veins and show it to you, and you still wouldn't recognize it." Your mother nodded, as if making a mental note of the insults he projected - not missing the veiled threat to you. "This is about the future and survival of my House, not yours."

You let out a soft huff when you could see Luke's face full of fear, looking down to your feet for a moment to recenter yourself; Aemond's thumb rubbing with reassurance - something that Daemon, your step father, clocked from his position across the way. Your hand briefly pet down his chest to then rest against his stomach again, an effort to remain close... To remain safe.

Your Uncle Vaemond turned from glowering smugly at your mother and her family, to then face the front of the room again, addressing, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition." You missed the way your brothers glared at your husband, who stared back with unnerve, because your own violet eyes glared at your father's uncle. "I place the continuation of the survival of my House and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor... The Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

You sighed through your nose as Otto called, "Thank you, Ser Vaemond." There was a sickly pause as Vaemond nodded, your mother looking like she was visibly trembling; and your brother-by-law looked far too pleased and amused by the proceedings. Aemond kept his usual mask of neutrality, but his arm was heavy around you as your feet shifted your weight. "Princess Rhaenyra," Otto called, "you may now speak for your son, Lucerys Velaryon."

You smiled softly as your mother stepped up in a gorgeous black gown that had red and gold embroidery around the hemlines; coming to a halt in the middle of the courtroom to be presented. Her hands discreetly caressed the front of her pregnant belly.

"Never have I witnessed a man threaten a Princess so boldly and get away with it," she spat towards Vaemond, "and if you ever speak of my daughter again, I will ensure it be the last time you speak. Now..." She faced the front again. "If I am to grace this farce with some answer," she spat again, as she could not hold back her temper from Otto or Alicent, "I will start by reminding the court," but behind her, the throne room's door opened with a heavy clang, "that nearly 20 years ago, in this very cour - " She cut herself off, turning with shock to spy who had entered the room during an official hearing, but never did anyone imagine the late arriving newcomer.

Two guards opened the doors, and two more entered first, with only one announcing, "King Viserys of House Targaryen, the First of His Name," your mother's head snapped over to catch your eyes, both of you sharing a look of utter shock, "King of the Andals, and the Rhoynar, and the First Men." Otto rose from his seat on the Iron Throne slowly, staring with disbelief as your mother's father, your husband's father, your grandsire used a cane to help him hobble into the room. "Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

The entire courtroom bowed in respect as nobody could believe their eyes; having the impression that King Viserys, the Peaceful, was not soon for the world. Yet here he was, dressed in his robes, golden face mask in place to his the injuries his illness has left, and with a decades-old, ancestral crown sat on his balding head, limping into the throne room. Yes, he limped severely, and yes, he required a cane, but by the Gods, this was something akin to a miracle.

You felt tears of pride swelling in your eyes, knowing the babe you grew in your womb would wreck havoc on your emotions, and in an effort to not give anyone reason to question your tears, willed them away. But it was a powerful moment to watch your grandsire, and technically, father-by-law, show the court that he is not yet done with this world, and what an entrance to make.

You knew that with Viserys present, there was no real need for Rhaenyra to give her petition. However, your eyes clocked the way Vaemond looked from the Queen to the Hand with distraught, disbelieving confusion. Your eyes cut over and met that of your step-father, your single brow perking in conversation; and he subtly gave a nod of his head before turning back to watching Viserys.

But it was obvious both you and Daemon had noticed the same motions and figured it meant Vaemond had struck some deal with the Hightowers prior to the current court hearing.

How interesting, indeed.

With worry, you asked quietly to Aemond, "Should one of us help him?"

"No, sweet girl, 's all right," he assured in your ear. "Father's a proud man," he let his forehead rest against your temple; finding your kindness a breath of fresh air in the otherwise tangibly tense room.

Aemond eventually took both of your hands in your own as if to keep you anchored at his side, but your body had turned to watch the King; and as his sunken, dried, deadened eye turned, your grandsire caught sight of your encouraging smile amongst a sea of envious Green - who all provided unsure looks of shock.

A few steps later, and he saw the relieved look on his beloved daughter's face - and Viserys knew, he made the right choice in coming today.

When he leveled with Otto, the King breathed through a wheeze, "I will sit the Throne today."

You had to hold your breath to resist the scream of laughter and excitement you wanted to give. What a moment - what a fucking moment to bear witness to. And by the small smirk on your husband's lips when his gaze darted down to meet your eyes, he was feeling something akin to pride. Aemond let loose a small snort of air out of amusement, patting your hip before gripping it once more.

"Your Grace," Otto agreed, stepping away as the King tried to make it up the stairs by himself and his cane.

The whole hall echoed the the thumps of his cane and groans, moans, and grunts of determination - as well as unfiltered pain. When his guards tried to help, King Viserys refused help, and only made it a few shuffles on his feet before the crown on his thinning head clattered to the stone floor.

But tears sprung to your eyes involuntarily when Daemon stepped up beside his brother and picked up his ancestral, golden crown.

Viserys, again, tried to refuse aid, but when he saw his brother's patient face and heard his whispered encouragement, the King allowed his brother to help him. Such a moment you were feeling privileged to witness, because what a moment it was - to see Daemon, the once scorned, reckless Prince of the City, who had been disinherited as Viserys' heir in favor of your mother, Rhaenyra, helping his weakened, sickly brother up to take his seat on the Iron Throne. He then placed the golden crown to his head, taking a moment to absorb his brother's very being, and then turn to head off the Throne's pedestal.

Daemon returned to your mother's side on the court's floor; both taking their posts around their children as your hand slid into Aemond's to hold in a vice. Viserys readjusted in his seat as your husband didn't care for your positioning, pulling you closer by your waist and settling there.

Through panting breath, Viserys called to the court, "I must... Admit... My confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. Only one present... Who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys' wishes is the Princess Rhaenys."

All eyes, including yours, turned to look at your grandmother - who stood with her ward, Rhaena, who was Daemon and your aunt, Laena Velyaron's, daughter. Baela, their other daughter, had chose to remain, it seems, with her father and step-mother.

Princess Rhaenys is married to Lord Corlys Velaryon, the Sea Snake, where the two shared two children - you aunt Laena, and your father, Laenor; both of whom were deceased. Now, with Lord Coryls' severe wounds, it seems only his wife can provide proper insight to what his wishes are following his death.

Gods forbid it came to that...

Inclining her head, your grandmother, who was years ago passed over to succeed the Iron Throne in favor of your grandsire, Viserys, agreed, "Indeed, Your Grace." With a solemn look to her brother-by-law, Vaemond, she moved for the center of the court. When she came to a halt, she kept her voice even and diplomatic, "It was ever my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor, to his trueborn son... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him." You noticed her words drew the attention of the Greens, remaining silent. "As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys' granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena." You noted the looks your brothers offered your mother, smirking gently. "A proposal to which I heartily agree."

Your stepmother shook her head in displeasure, and you realized, while Vaemond had sought the Queen and Hand's council, your mother had alined herself with Princess Rhaenys - and it was checkmate.

Your mother had the upper hand, and now with the Princess' words, you knew she had solidified her son's position. Well played, Mother...

"Well... The matter is settled," Viserys decided. "Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon," heads turned to look at the boy, "as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Hearing Viserys wheeze in punctuation, Rhaenys turned from her place, sending a small smirk to Rhaenyra, and moved back towards her granddaughter, your cousin and step-sister, Rhaena.

But the matter was far from settled.

"You break law..." Vaemond seethed, stepping up to the King's attention, "and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me... Who deserves to inherit the name Velaryon... No... I will not allow it," he hissed in anger.

"'Allow it'?" Viserys repeated. "Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

You flinched gently when Vaemond turned to point an accusatory finger at your younger brother, "THAT is no true Velaryon," he turned back to the King, "and certainly no nephew of mine."

"Go to your chambers," you mother demanded of your brothers. To Vaemond, she directed, "You have said enough."

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson," Viserys reiterated. "And you... Are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

"You... May run your House as you see fit... But you will not decide the future of mine. My House survived the Doom and a thousand tribulations besides!" He growled. His head whipped around to glare at Rhaenyra. "And Gods be damned, I will not see it ended on the account of this - " He took a breath to finish his sentence but pursed his lips, reminding him that he was in the presence of the King. He held his tongue.

Across the way, you saw your step-father challenge under his breath, "Say it."

Your spine straightened as Aemond's hand rubbed deftly up and down in assurance, everyone waiting for Vaemond's next words. Even Viserys cocked his head as he waited with a pant to his lungs.

"Her children," Vaemond started quietly - but all still heard him, "are BASTARDS!"

"Hey, hey," Aemond whispered, both arms around you when you shifted in place - wanting to throw some punches, but your husband restrained you.

Anger shifted around your family, both boys doing little to hide their disrespect; you doing little to hide your acute anger. Daemon caught your eye and you saw him raise a silent finger, sighing, and relaxing into Aemond's chest. He even breathed a sigh of relief when you did, pressing a quick peck to your temple as if to thank you for backing down - saving him from a fight.

"And she..." Vaemond turned forward to tell the King, "Is... A whore."

The crowd gasped, Aemond smirked, and his arms tightened around you - despite your frozen shock. Truth of the matter was that both Laenor and Daemon had taken time to train you themselves on Dragonstone with a sword, so, you felt as if your odds at taking on the older Velaryon were better than most.

But your attention turned towards the King as he hobbled from his Throne with a hefty glare. "I..." He breathed, yanking his dagger free from his belt, but your eyes watched Daemon as he moved stoically, almost invisible to the court as they were all waiting for Viserys' judgement; the King panting, "Will have your tongue for that!"

Before you could yell not to, your step-father had unsheathed his sword and expertly cleaved Dark Sister to slice clean through Vaemond's head. You flinched some and Aemond turned his body to turn you away from the sight, blood splattering across the floor. Helaena and Alicent turned away, too, Aemond seemingly unable to look away, as Aegon only turned his head to the side with disgust.

When the dead body hit the floor with a squelch, you could see that Daemon had sliced clean through the man's skull - and only his jaw and tongue were attached - the latter flopping to the side uselessly. Standing above the body, Daemon glared down at him with Dark Sister planted to the ground, his hands folded over the hilt.

"He can keep his tongue," Daemon leered.

"DISARM HIM!" Otto snapped back into his senses from shock, hollering to the King's Guard; making a chorus of unsheathing swords sing.

"No need," Daemon brushed off casually, catching your eye to drop a quick, reassuring wink as he lifted his blade to wipe it clean while he moved back for his wife's side - ever the protective husband.

But you seemingly heard him first, and caught sight of Viserys' strength failing him, "Alicent - the King," you rushed to tell her.

Her head snapped around as Viserys collapsed, moaning in discomfort. "Call the Maesters!" She cried, a hand briefly squeezing your forearm in thanks before rushing up the stairs to catch her husband's failing figure.

"Father?" Rhaenyra stepped up, and while you wanted to rush for her, the King was the most pressing matter, and you paused at Aemond's side. Though the King never truly showed his sons love, you knew in some twisted way that he did; and so did Aemond in that moment, for his face showed concern while you felt his body tense.

You turned to press into his side, under his tight arm, and with your hand flat to his chest, muttered, "'S all right, love. He's got help."

He nodded mutely at you, trying to relax as a guard took Viserys under his arm - the Maester racing to the scene, and together, they helped the groaning King down from his Throne. You pet over your husband's chest as the King was escorted away, leaving Queen Alicent before the Throne, and Rhaenyra at the base of the pedestal.

How odd to see... Alicent standing above Rhaenyra. Green above Black. Hightower above the mighty Dragon.

The turn of the tide was soon to crash over the House of the Dragon, and from the image before you, you worried the Hightowers would topple the structure of your beloved family. Aemond sighed heavily, his head tilted towards your ear. "C'mon, my love. Please."

You sighed and let his hand tangle with yours, waiting for dismissal - but after the King leaves, there is little need to linger. You could not yet speak to your mother, step-father, brothers, or cousins, but you managed to catch your mother's eyes - nodding once, to which she returned the motion, and then Aemond was striding out of the hall with you in tow. His siblings might've followed, you're unsure, because your feet had to jog to catch up with your husband's elongated strides.

When you got to your chambers, he ushered you inside and shut the door before locking it. "Aemond?" You asked in a breath.

"What was that?" He asked, starting to pace the length of your room. "What the bloody hell was that? Huh!?"

"Aemond, calm yourself a moment to explain to me what you're on about."

"That!" He roared, hand held up in gesture.

"Sadly, that was just Daemon being Daemon. He's rash, my love, and has always operated by his own want, merit, and doing. He cares very little for political politeness. Even when he was heir after Viserys, before my mother, he was ruthless. He's calmed down considerably, but he is still brash. Do not let Daemon startle you - "

"I am not startled."

"Then what is this?" You asked, sighing with a gesture towards him.

"It is strange, is it not? That he can behave in such a manner?"

"He's the King's brother," you shrugged a bit.

"I am the King's son," he snapped, "and yet when his grandsons attack me, he favored them over me. Even after I was disfigured! What am I doing wrong? Hey? His brother is allowed to openly murder a man, yet I lose an eye without consequence, and for what?"

"Vaemond Velaryon offered deep, troubling, public insult to the crown heir of this kingdom," you snapped. "Nevermind he also seemed to have threatened your wife, my dear husband! Mind your fucking manners for that is still my mother and our future Queen you speak of. Vaemond decided to raise ill word to her, insulting her seed, insulting the King's seed, threatening to make me bleed, and Daemon does not handle disrespect well." You were enraged, but your heart also shattered in your chest for your husband. You stepped up so you could take his hands in your own, "But I am so sorry for what happened years ago, Aemond, I truly am, my sweet love." His hands tore from yours in favor of squeezing your waist closer to him. "It is not fair and justice was never served for your injuries, but I implore you to see that this jealousy will not get you anywhere. You forget, my young brother is heir after my mother, and my brother after is heir to Driftmark. But I, my sweet, am heir to Dragonstone. When the time is right, you and I can be away from this political foolishness and have our own homestead to rule over. You will not always endure being a second son, because you will be Lord of Dragonstone. Hmm? We will not always have reason to play by everyone else's rules."

He sighed, chuckling lightly after, "Aye, you know how to soothe me, don't you?"

"I'd be a pretty terrible wife if I did not," you teased softly. "Vaemond made a mistake, my love, and while I will not justify Daemon, I cannot say I am surprised. He is not named the Rogue Prince for nought. But I do know there will be no consequences to his actions."

"And how fair does that seem, wife?"

"It is not, husband," you sighed, "but there is little to be done."

"Like there was little to be done when I lost my eye?"

You frowned, caressing his cheek softly before reaching for both his eye patch and hair clip; releasing his silver locks first. His eye closed and his head bowed some to then let you lift the leather patch from his face. "Would you look at me? Please?" You asked softly, caressing his cheek again to let your thumb run over the under side of his scar softly. When his violet eye met your amethyst orbs, he shuddered a small breath. "The loss of your eye is truly unfortunate, and I cannot extend my deepest sympathies for it. But it does not take away from you," you let your eyes rake over the injury, the sapphire he liked to put in his bare socket almost winking at you in the torchlight. "I find you incredibly beautiful, my sweet husband." Your eyes moved to his, "And nothing is going to change my love for you. Eye or no eye... So long as your love remains mine, I do not wish for anything else. You are all I need in a husband, in a partner," his hands tightened to a bruising strength, pressing you against his front - and growing bulge, "and I love you exactly the way you are."

Aemond, a man of little words, surged forward to lock your lips in a searing kiss; earning a high-pitched whine from you. His arms locked around you, your hands gripping his neck as if he was the only thing keeping you upright. Aemond felt emotion swell in his chest and started to back you up towards the bed; leaning you down to sit on the bed, hands locked in your hair.

He smirked when your teeth pulled over his bottom lip, letting it snap back into place. "Lay back," he ordered quietly, aiding you by means of guiding your legs up to help you push back on the bed. His smirk didn't falter as he unlaced your boots and then pulled them off, caressing your bare feet after pulling your stockings off. His hands then moved up your calves, pushing the skirts of your dress up as he went. With your feet planted, he pushed your knees apart and let your skirts fall up your hips.

He let his gaze rake over you, his nose exhaling a deep sigh.

Your head cocked slightly, asking as you reached for him, "What's wrong, love?"

"Nothing," he assured swiftly, pausing to start unlacing his leather jerkin. "Just appreciating the view of my stunning wife."

You pulled yourself up onto your elbows, smiling at him, "You know this view well, do you not?"

"I will not tire of it," he nodded, finally ridding his upper half naked, much to your appreciation. "I do swear you get more beautiful as time passes. How blessed I am."

Sliding yourself to sit up, you let your hair tumble around one shoulder as you watched him. When he moved towards you again, you held a hand in pause to him, making him halt in wonder as you explained, "The pants, too, my Lord."

He smirked, "You do not wish to dispose of them yourself?"

"I want to watch you," your voice lowered, standing from the bed only to pull all your under clothes off from underneath your skirts. Dropping them at his feet, you looked him up and down as prey did predator before moving for the spare table. Pouring yourself a goblet of wine, you moved back for the bed to sit, cross your bare legs, and take a hefty sip as your brows perked. With your eyes watching your husband, you prompted, "Well? Do you mean to disobey your wife? I did not think I'd have to ask twice."

His fingers slowly, tauntingly, yanked at the leather strings of his trousers; never once breaking eye contact with you as you took another gulp. In the effort to finish your cup before he was done, you took another drawl as Aemond yanked the hips of his britches open; then shucking them from his hips.

Your head cocked with a tease, swallowing another mouthful of sweet wine as he tugged the leather trousers down his muscular thighs, and then finally, down around his calves.

"Keep going," you whispered, his hands pulling his boots free, tossing them to the side; and then finishing by freeing his legs, tossing his leather pants away. They landed near his boots, but still, his eye did not break free from yours. You finished your wine.

Slowly, your tongue licked between the seam of your lips, tasting the sweet Dornish wine Aemond preferred. You hummed lightly, smirking at your husband, making him prompt, "And now, my Princess?" He took confident steps forward, making your legs uncross to spread and welcome him. "What would you have of me, wife?"

"On your knees," you whispered when his face hovered over yours. He took the goblet from your hands and let it clatter to the floor.

"Hmm. On your back first, love," he purred in response, making you smile when his hands swiftly bunched your skirts up to your waist, lowering himself as he went until he was perfectly level with your bare cunt. He breathed across your lower wetted lips, taking a tasting lick. He hummed, "Just as I thought you could not be more perfect. Gods, you taste delectable, my sweet girl."

Before you could speak his name in reprimand, he opened his mouth, and dove tongue first into your weeping heat. All that fell from your lips were breathless moans and his name chanted like a prayer; legs spreading wider to accommodate his broad shoulders while your head tipped back in pleasure.

With desperate fingers, you pulled at your dress to free your arms and wrangle from the garment; his hand instantly shooting up your body to palm your breast with near relief, kneading it with fervor. His mouth engulfed the whole of your cunt, moving both tongue and jaw to lap at the juices you secreted from arousal.

He hummed against your clit, tongue messily wagging back and forth; hand tight on your tit, the other holding your hip in place. "Aemond," you begged shrilly, without breath; mind lost to his ministrations. Your hand tightened in his free flowing locks. "Wait, wait, wait," you panted, over come by the feeling he provided you. But he bore down, keeping you in place, and the hand that had once twisted your nipple dropped to sweep against your weeping hole.

With a wanton cry from you, his fingers pushed in, and the combined pressure of his fingers pumping in and out of you relentlessly with his lips sucking on your puckered clit sent you to heaven.

A warm flushed your body, and your blood began to sing as you were overwhelmed with the adrenaline rush - gasping for Aemond, hands fisting his hair, and keeping him close to your cunt; resulting in you releasing over his mouth, chin, and fingers.

"Ah, that's it," he praised, not relenting his finger's motions to only glance up at you, "keep going, my sweet girl, that's it. Good girl, yes," he gazed back at your cunt, speeding his fingers up when your back arched, and a moment later, a second wave crashed and Aemond was laughing as you squirted over him - again.

"Ae-Aemond," you pleaded brokenly, nearly wriggling with pleasure.

"One more, one more, one more," he grunted, one arm now holding your hips down as the other rapidly spurred into you to prod at that spongy-good spot within your walls. His drool dripped onto your puffy clit before he descended to suck his lips over you. "Yes, yes, yes, good girl, that's it, fucking soak me, go on, yes, that's my girl, one more, one more," he praised in a chant, holding you down as your hips bucked and for a final time, spewed over your husband's chin and chest.

"Oh, my Gods," you panted, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes involuntarily; chest heaving as your legs felt limp, yet simultaneously alight with a buzz. "N-No more, please. Gods..."

"Yeah? You all right, precious girl?" He chuckled, crawling up your body. He paused for a moment to finally yank your dress off you; raising your hips to help him before crashing back to the bed.

"Yeah," you panted still. "Gods, where did that come from, hey?"

"You're surprised?" he chuckled, laying beside you a moment; letting his head dip down to kiss your neck.

"No," you admitted, chuckling a bit. "Just not used to it, yet."

"Your body sings for me, pet," he whispered, letting his tongue rake up sweaty skin. After biting at your throat gently, he wondered, "Got another in you?"

"Anything for you, my Prince," you whispered, petting his cheek to raise his lips to yours. He groaned when your teeth bit his lip, making him press harder into you; bare, throbbing cock pressing into your hip. "Aemond," you begged, reaching for his twitching member; hearing his breath sharpen and stagger.

"On your stomach, sweetheart," he smirked, petting down your waist. When you felt his hand purposefully skate across your lower stomach, you worried he felt the change in your body.

"Maybe not," you pouted some.

"What's wrong?" He asked instantly.

Your hand laid over his, curling around it to hold. "Well, I'm soon to start my cycle and I believe the fish the other night wasn't good. I just feel bloated, not myself."

He hummed, "Do you feel unwell?"

"No."

"Then it is of no concern to me because you know you're perfect in my eyes," he chuckled a bit, leaning in to kiss you fully. "Let me fuck you, pretty girl."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever my Lord husband wants," you playfully rolled your eyes at him, easing from under his body to plant your feet on the ground but lay your stomach on the bed, giving your hips a quick wiggle. "Hmm?"

"Good girl," he growled, wasting no time in leaping off the bed after you; planting his feet between yours, and after giving a single sweep of his cock up your slick, he pushed his hips forward until fully sheathed inside you. The both of you moaned, and while you thought your husband often insatiable, you would not get used to his size nor girth; often craving it.

You panted beneath him, feeling his hands move from your hips to waist to your back and then your hair and to your shoulders then to waist, again. All the while, as if energized by something you could not see, his hips hammered into the back of yours; making your hands fist your sheets in tune to his low, growling grunts.

You begged his name as if for relief, but it fell on deaf ears.

Aemond was chasing his orgasm now (that had built all day), letting his fingers find your clit to rapidly toy with it; feeling your knees buckle into the side of the mattress. You let your face screw up slightly as your orgasm was damn-near blinding, nearly collapsing into the bed as Aemond's hands seized your hips to hump all the hard, all the faster.

"FUCK!" You shouted from a twinge of pain, feeling him stretching you - prodding into spots deep within your walls, and feeling your pleasure mount to new heights. Your hands once held the sheets now shot back to grab at his forearms, trying to alleviate the pressure you felt, but he did not falter - nor slow - his hammering hips.

"That's it, I know you can fucking take it, like a good fucking girl," Aemond snarled, one hand holding your hips as the other reached out to wrap in your hair and yank back. Your back bowed and your chest rose; a guttural moan ripping from your throat with near pain from the pull to your scalp. But when you were close enough, his arm helped adjust you; one hand in your hair as the other wrapped around your chest. His hips did not falter in their movements, that now pounded into you upwards. "That's my girl," his lips spoke in your ear, wetting the shell of it before giving a scrape of his teeth. "Always so fucking good for me, so wet and willing. Just sucking me in, Seven fucking Hells."

"Aemond," you whimpered now, almost delirious as one of your hands drifted down your body to finger your clit while the other helped you keep your position.

"Get there, my love," he encouraged, licking at your neck. "C'mon, pretty girl. Get there, I feel you squeezing me - lemme fucking feel you gush all over me."

It did not take long, and within a few strokes, you were tumbling over the cliffside; Aemond following only a few moments after to paint your inner walls with his hot ropes of cum. You both let yourselves fall forward to the bed, and your husband did his best to hold his balance off of you. But his chest rose and fell with trepidation, making you reach back to pet over his cheek.

His hair was damp from sweat, your own no real different.

Aemond heaved for breath as he pulled his softening cock from your cunt, shoving himself up the bed before reaching for you, and yanking you up by grabbing under your arms. You whined, naturally, but settled when he had laid you against his chest; pausing only to readjust comfortably against him, one leg hitching over his hips. "Please tell me we are done for the day?" You sighed against his flushed chest, manicured nail tracing patterns over his breast. "We're not needed elsewhere, right?"

"I believe we're done for the day, yes, my love," he sighed softly, kissing your forehead.

"Hmm," you nodded, playfully nipping at his pebbled nipple.

"Hey, now. Do not tempt me, I will take you again right now."

You grinned up at him when his arm tightened. But before you could say anything, there was a (dreaded) knock at your door. "Prince Aemond?" A servant called through the wood, making your head fall to his chest with a defeated sigh.

Your husband huffed and grumbled a curse while sitting up to yank a blanket from the bottom of your bed; swiftly covering both of your lower halves with your chest pressed to his side for protection.

"Come in," he lazily demanded, laying back to the headboard with an arm behind his head, and looking to the opening door. His other hand lazily drug calloused fingertips over the plain of your bare back, sending a legion of goose flesh over your flesh and for a shiver to shoot down your spine. "What is it?" He asked stoically of the servant.

"M-My Prince, Princess," the servant nervously stuttered, bowing with respect, "my apologies for the intrusion, but the Hand has called for a dinner later in the evening."

"I'm sorry?" Aemond snipped, making your hand thump against his chest in silent reprimand. He adjusted his tone when he asked, "What's that to mean?"

"The K-King, my Prince, has called for a dinner. The Hand is tasked with delivering the message and ensuring the royal family attends."

You sighed and whispered, "'S fine, love. Dinner sounds nice."

Aemond nodded, waving the servant out, "There a time?"

"Sundown, my Prince."

"That will be all," he dismissed with finality.

"Thank you!" You called, hearing the door shut right after. You chuckled, "You could stand to be a bit nicer, you know. It will not kill you, my love, I promise."

"They're lucky they knocked when they did. Should they have arrived minutes prior, I might've had to knock around a skull or two," he grumbled.

You chuckled slightly, "Perhaps you'd fancy a trip to the training yard, my love? Work out your frustrations with a sword?"

"Usually you offer yourself," he teased.

"I need to be able to walk if we are to have dinner with the King tonight," you covered, leaning up to peck his lips. "But I can feel your tension, just thought you'd want to hack your sword into something."

"Have another uncle I could dice up?" He teased.

"Oh, you're so bloody funny, ha-ha," you teased, feeling his lips spread in a grin across your forehead. With a sigh, you let yourself relish in the few moments more you had with your husband - before he would rise, dress, and depart, and you'd be left alone to figure out what the hell to wear that evening. You've already worn most of your dresses that concealed your swelling-belly, wondering what else was left in your wardrobe to use.

After another few moments to stretch in bed, you called for your handmaiden, Amira, and rose to tie a dressing robe over your bare figure. While you waited for her arrival, you chose proper undergarments and in an effort to save yourself embarrassment, dressed quickly before retying your robe - where moments later, Amira knocked, and began the process that would ensure you wore the perfect gown for dinner.

Something proper that would not give away the shape of your belly, and therefore, uncover your secret.

[ series masterlist ]

[cloudy-em]

Hi, that's me again😅

So... my other idea for Lip is: (again with relatively shy reader, because I love the thrope a lot) the reader and Lip are already in a relationship, one day someone teases her a little too much on the sexual theme (they haven't had sex yet so she's a bit insecure about it) he notices, he defends her, and once they're alone he starts to joke around, teases her in a sweet way, to make her feel more comfortable to talk about it. (She is not a virgin, she's just not that experienced)

Hope you like this one, if not. It's okay, I promise😂

another great idea! <3

personally i don't celebrate thanksgiving but i remember an episode from one of the earlier seasons of them doing a thanksgiving meal which is very convenient for this so it's loosely based on that

warnings: sexual comments, innuendos, Mickey's kinda being an ass but his comments aren't ill-intended

xxxxxxxxxx

The Gallagher household was bustling with activity. Fiona and V were in the kitchen, finishing up some last minute food preparations while Kevin was entertaining Carl and some of his friends in the yard with games. Ian was fixing drinks for everyone, desperately trying to find Debbie to figure out what she wanted (she was in her room, Mandy braiding her hair for her so she could impress Little Hank). Lip was finishing up a project for some sophomore who'd offered to pay him $100, and Liam was sitting patiently in his high chair. Y/N did her best to help out by setting the table, ensuring there were enough chairs and that everyone had all the proper utensils.

Mickey walked in the front door, beer in hand and flopped down, watching as Y/N reached across to the other side of the table to put a fork next to the plate. Mickey whistled like a boy in a 60s tv show.

"Damn, I bet you're used to that position," he quipped, taking another swig or his beer. Y/N looked at him, furrowing her eyebrows.

Mickey shrugged. "You know, cause I'm sure Philip bends you over pretty often." Y/N realized his implications, blushing and looking away. Mickey laughed, much more comfortable on the subject of sex than she was. "I'm sure Fiona's had to schedule time out of the house with the rest of the kids just to give you two some 'alone time'!"

Y/N grew increasingly uncomfortable. She wasn't a virgin or a puritan, but she and Lip hadn't had sex yet. They hadn't had a conversation about it or anything, but she wanted to wait a while and Lip had never brought it up with her.

Mickey laughed, "Look, kid, don't have to hide anything, we've all walked in on Lip with one of his hookups before." He paused for dramatic effect.

"Besides, it's always the shy one's who are the kinkiest!"

Y/N looked away, trying not to pay him any more mind and focus on her task. Lip walked down the stairs having finished with the sophomore's project, and immediately noticed something was off. His girlfriend was shy, sure, but she never bowed her head as low as she had.

"Hey, Lip!" Mickey called, teasing. Lip looked at him, eyebrows raised in expectation. "Maybe you should go out back and have quickie with your girl, get 'er to stop bein' such a priss." Lip realized what was wrong, walking over to his blushing girlfriend and placing his arm around her waist.

"Fuck off," Lip sighed. "Y/N isn't a priss, she just doesn't think the whole world needs to know about her sex life like you and Ian seem to."

Mickey raised his arms in surrender, "'Kay, fuck, Gallagher, it was all teasing, no harm meant!" He got up from his seat and went to the kitchen, presumably to grab another beer.

"C'mon, baby," Lip said softly, squeezing Y/N's waist and guiding her up to his room. He sat with her on the edge of Ian's bed, holding her hand and rubbing his calloused thumb on the back of it.

"I'm sorry he was messin' with you, baby," he whispered. "I'll make sure it doesn't happen again. Anything I can do for you?" He emphasized his apology by pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

"No, just," she paused, thinking about how she wanted to phrase her next sentence. "Do you ever, I don't know, feel like I'm holding you back?"

Lip had a puzzled look on his face. "Whatd'ya mean, hon?"

"Well with like, you know," she sighed, pulling her hand away from Lip to hide her face. "We haven't had sex and I feel like that's my fault." She heard him chuckle quietly, her embarrassment seeping into her soul even more.

"Baby," he cooed, wrapping his arms around her in a hug as she continued to hide her face. "It's nobody's fault. We haven't talked about it yet! That's the most important part of any relationship, and that's taken me a while to learn. I figured you'd bring it up when you were ready. I didn't want you to feel pressured."

She looked up at him, eyes wide and glazed over, on the verge of tears because of her embarrassment. "Really?" she asked.

"Really," he nodded like he had given an order to the universe.

"I thought that maybe you weren't attracted to me or that you thought I wasn't good enough," she whispered.

"Me? Not attracted to you? Aw babe!" he laughed, nose touching hers in a loving exchange. "A pretty thing like you deserves to be worshipped. When we have sex, I'm takin' my time with you."

She giggled at his compliment, rolling her eyes in disbelief.

"Oh, what you don't believe me? I've wanted to sleep with pretty girl forever, I just wanted to make sure she's ready for me," he smiled at her. The more he complimented her, easing in sex references, the more comfortable she felt on the subject. He had waited for her! He didn't think she was a prude or anything, he just had respect for her; he cared for her. She felt warmth in her chest as she processed the conversation. Lip kissed her nose briefly, helping her stand up from the bed.

"And try not to let Mickey get you down. He's just like that and assumes everyone else is comfortable talking about their sex life the way he does. I'll warn him to dial it down when he's around you, though," Lip told her, looking into her eyes to make sure she knew he was serious.

"Thanks, Lip. I love you," she told him, hugging him again.

"I love you, too, Y/N. Now, we'll talk more about us and our boundaries and moving forward later," he told her, trying to help her be more comfortable discussing sex with him. "But right now I think we've got a dinner to be at."

xxxxxx

thanks for reading! sorry about me projecting a lil bit in lip and reader's conversation lol, i just think it's really important to have these conversations with your partners and i think lip, despite being all tough and "not sappy" (but he totally is) really cares about discussing boundaries with his partner

have a great day!

[yuri-is-online]

Ace!Yutu when he sees his father being an idiot and claiming he doesn’t like the prefect that way:

I swear I love the angst potential of Yutu, and more because it depends on the version.

Imagine Riddle!Yutu waking up screaming from a bad nightmare and watching his previously dead parent right next to him.

Tumblr and I have beef, it deleted this ask and then magically re-found it AFTER I typed it out somewhere else. Anyway, I have a second ask about aceyuu Yutu mentioning him judging his dad because you know that Marcille face is what he is making 24/7. But since he is also Ace's son you know he has a little fun with it:

"I see I see." Yutu folds his hands together, index fingers standing tall in front of his lips as he nods in exaggerated agreement before shifting ever so slightly to look at Deuce. "So he really lives like this?" "Yeah he does." Cackles Deuce, Ace's eye twitches as he tries to decide who is more annoying, the new kid or Deuce. "I'll let you in on a secret, he thinks he's being subtle." "I think I'm being normal." Ace huffs, but new kid ignores him and nods sagely at Deuce. "Ah yes I see, like a brick." "Hey listen!" Ace hates how much more of a defense this new kid is making him run, why's he decided it is his business if he likes Yuu or not? "Unlike you two losers I actually have a relationship history-" "What, with a mirror?" Yutu's unimpressed look is so similar to Yuu's Ace swears his heart leaps right up into his throat. "Look I'm just saying it sounds like there was a break up in there somewhere." Never mind fuck this, who raised this kid?!?!

I try to have each Yutu be a bit different to help reflect how each character's reaction to him would be a bit different. That and I think different boys kids would be different even if they have similarities, Riddle! Yutu is withdrawn and angry while Ace! Yutu is more laid back and sarcastic, but they are still both Yutu.

And speaking of Riddle! Yutu:

He can taste the ink in his lungs through his struggle to breathe, the branch around his neck tightens at his audacity to try. He panics on instinct, screaming as the Phantom's scepter is pushed into his chest as it screams out a command "OFF WITH YOUR-"

You open the door with a bit more force than you intended, something about hearing Yutu scream out for one of his parents makes you feel awful, even more so when you finally see him. The poor boy has tied his sheets into knots with his thrashing, you silently thank the seven that you thought to set down the milk you had heated up before you shake him.

Calling out to them he tackles you with a surprising amount of force, holding onto you so tightly you can't help but hug him back. Fat tears roll down his cheeks as he shakes like a leaf and you do your best to keep him in his bed, but let him cling to you.

"It's just me." You pat his back and he freezes, but doesn't loosen his grip and you laugh slightly. He's got to be so embarrassed, better let him re-set before he has to look at your face. "Breathe in, now hold one, two-" You softly guide him through his breaths and relax alongside him as he calms. "That sounded like a bad one, are you sure you don't want me to loan you Grim? He's a real good snuggle buddy, promise."

"I think I'll pass." Yutu pulls back, but he still can't look at you, eyes instead going to the milk on his nightstand and rolling his eyes. "Really? I'm not a baby." But still he takes it and you let the insult go.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You hope he will, this is the third time this week he's had an episode and you really want to help. You think Yutu wants to, he looks at you now with a deeply strained look in his eyes that almost makes you think he is looking at a ghost.

"It's... not nothing." He had tried saying it was the first time you found him in the throws of one. "But I can't- I can't tell you." It's progress enough that he's willing to acknowledge it's a problem, you can't heal unless you accept that something is broken.

"I'll be here if you change your mind." You mean it to be kind, but it makes the ghost look worsen. Still, Yutu sort of smiles at you.

"I know and... thank you." He closes his eyes briefly to reset himself and remember. You're alive, that's enough for now.

"You want to play go fish?" More than enough.

[daysofyellowroses]

spaghetti

carmen berzatto x reader | 700 words | based on this absolutely adorable request from my love @thecapricunt1616 | no warnings really, just a little cute one

You hummed under your breath as you took a large bowl from the cabinet, placing it on the counter before taking the bag of popcorn from the microwave. Once you had the popcorn in the bowl you took it to the living room, placing the bowl on the table before heading back to the kitchen. Checking your phone, you smiled as you always did when you looked at your wallpaper. It was a picture of you and Carmy pulling stupid faces for the camera, your arms around each other. You always told him it was a privilege to be your lockscreen after a couple of weeks, not just anyone could hold that position. 

Taking two beers from the fridge, you brought them out to the living room and smiling as your phone buzzed in your pocket. You checked, finding a new message from Carmy to let you know he was around the corner. You went to the front door, lightly tapping your fingers on the wall while you scrolled through instagram.  

When the knock on the door came, you tucked your phone back into your pocket before opening the door and smiling as you saw your boyfriend standing on the other side.

“Welcome back,” You grinned, stepping aside. “it's only been..eight hours?”

“About that, yeah.” Carm smiled as he walked, giving you a kiss before you closed the door. 

“Everything is ready,” You gestured to the living room, taking Carmy's hand and leading him over. “I couldn't decide what to watch so I threw on an old Simpsons episode. Hope you don't mind?”

“Not at all,” Carm grinned, unzipping his jacket and draping it over the couch as you sat down. “Sounds great.”

“Perfect,” You smiled, leaning forward to pick up one of the beers and handing it to Carm before standing up. “Be right back, make yourself comfortable.”

You went into your bedroom, walking over to your bed and reaching under your pillow. You pulled out a small bundle of what were essentially rags, before heading back out to the couch. 

“Budge up,” You smiled, sitting down beside Carmy and relaxing against him, his arm draping around you as you sat up on the couch.

You both laughed at the same jokes you always laughed at, you ate popcorn handfuls at a time and drank cool beer.

As you were relaxing, you subconsciously picked at a little bundle at the end of the worn out material in your hands, plucking the knots and gently stroking it. You were lightly brushing it against your cheek when you felt Carm's eyes on you, looking up at him with a raised brow.

“Something wrong?” You asked, touching your cheek.

“No, nothing,” Carmy smiled, gesturing to the material in your hands. “I was just thinking, if you want me to cut off that ball of thread for you I can. I can see how it would be bothersome for you.”

“What, this?” You frowned, holding up said ball of thread. “you can't be serious?”

You got up from the couch, looking at Carm and holding the material out.

“I'm going to pretend you didn't say that. Because I know you didn't just call blankie ‘bothersome.’ Because this,” You shook the material in his face. “Is thingie. And this,” You gestured to the worn out strings of thread hanging off the end of a faded strip of fabric. “he is the original blankie, thingie is his friend. Just his friend. And thingie knows he’s only here because of blankie, so respect blankie, got it?”

“Got it,” Carmy nodded, watching as you slowly sat back down on the couch. “Message received.”

“Good,” You murmured, letting out a soft sigh. You smiled a little when Carm gently pulled you in for a cuddle, his hand stroking your hair.

“I'm sorry for my disrespect,” He murmured softly. “I know he's important to you.”

“It's okay,” You sighed, closing your eyes and clutching blankie to your chest and enjoying the feeling of Carmy's arms around you. “I know it's a little..unusual but I've had him for so long it would feel wrong to just get rid of him.”

“Will that courtesy extend to me one day?” Carmy asked, and you could feel the smile in his voice.

“It remains to be seen,” You smiled, opening your eyes and turning to look up at Carm. “But there's a very strong chance, as,long as you stay away from the scissors.”

[automaticllamacycle]

the taste of your lips (is my idea of luxury)

Summary: You had never smoked weed before. A few puffs with your friend Matty couldn’t hurt, right?

Content: 18+, smoking, shotgunning, face sitting, fingering, unprotected sex, praise kink, spitting, slight dom/sub undertones if you squint, friends to lover but make it super speed

Word count: 5,451

You sit in his room watching one of his favorite documentaries, a typical Friday night for the two of you. Matty’s at his desk, leaning over it while he starts to roll a joint. He insists the weed helps him think more deeply about the documentary, no matter how many times you tell him that’s bullshit. You can’t help but linger on his fingers as he packs the joint, carefully working with the paper.

You and Matty have been friends for a few years now. Nothing had ever gone further than that, even though you’d like for it to. Painfully, in the friend-zone. So, you sit on his bed and watch his hands, wondering what they would feel like on you. On your body, squeezing your hips just right…

His curly brown locks are a mess, hanging in his face. You hope he can’t feel your eyes barring into him. Part of you wonders if he does know, by the way he grazes his tongue along the edge of the paper, slow and calculated in his movements. He lingers his tongue longer than usual. As soon as he finishes the task, your eyes jump back to the television, acting like you weren’t just staring at him.

“Matty, can I change this to something else? What even is this?”

“What? Don’t like my taste in documentaries?” he jokes with the joint hanging loosely from his lips. He stands up in the middle of his sentence, looking for a lighter in his bedside drawer.

“You know I don’t. This isn’t even true crime. Can I put it on Friends or something? Please?” The remote is already in your hand, ready to go. A wide grin spreads across your face as you try to convince him to comply with your request.

“Anything for you. I’ll be high anyway. Don’t really care what we watch.” He replies, now clutching the lighter in his hand. The words anything for you repeat in your head as he sits down next to you, making himself comfortable against the headboard. His shoulders press against you, not a space between the side of his body and yours.

“You know it’s a great show. A true classic.” you say as you put the show on. You turn your head to him and watch as he strikes the lighter and holds the flame to the joint. When he finally lights it, he responds.

“It’s a funny show, I’ll give you that much sweetheart.”

You turn your head back to the TV screen, attempting to ignore how close his body is to you. His every movement distracts you from the TV. Only a couple minutes into the episode, you look to him again, watching as he takes a drag. More specifically, watching as his lips wrap around the joint.

You haven’t smoked before. Not like you’re against it or anything, just never found a reason to, yet. Still though, you’re curious about it. “So…” you begin, “What does being high actually feel like?”

“Why, you finally interested after all these years?” he replies with his eyebrows raised. A small smirk lights up his face.

“Maybe.”

“Well, it feels… nice. You feel happy and relaxed, not a care in the world.”

“That does sound appealing.” Your eyes flicker between the joint in his hand and his eyes, trying to steer clear from staring at his lips. Maybe the high will distract you from your feelings. Distract you from how much you want him, right now.

“Why don’t you give it a try?” He straightens up from his position against the headboard and extends the joint out to your hand. You hesitantly take it from his fingers, before looking back at his face. Unsure of even how to hold the joint properly, you decide to hold it like a cigarette as you’ve seen him do so many times, between your pointer finger and middle finger. Your eyes meet his again, looking for some kind of guidance. His eyes are a bit red from the weed. It doesn’t look like there are too many thoughts going on in his head.

“Matty, I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve never even smoked a cigarette.”

“I can tell,” he chuckles. “You just breathe it in I don’t know how else to instruct you. You’ve seen me do it enough times by now.” Before continuing his sentence, he plucks the joint from your fingers and places it between your thumb and index finger, signaling for you to pinch your fingers around it. “It’s between these fingers. Easier to pass back and forth this way. Go ahead and take a hit.”

“Alright, fine.” You feel your confidence leave your body as you bring the joint up to your lips. You attempt to properly inhale, but you fall into a raging coughing fit when the smoke hits your lungs.

“Well shit, you weren’t joking,” he said, laughing as his hand goes to rub your back gently while you cough.

“Yeah, I don’t think smoking weed like this is going to work out for me.”

There’s a slight pause. A lull in conversation before he talks again.

“Wait. I think I have an idea.” His eyes light up alongside his smile. You could tell by the look on his face this isn’t going to be a regular, normal idea.

“I feel like I should be worried.”

“Come here and sit on my lap.” He holds his arms out, waiting. You stare at him for a moment, confusion on your face.

“I think you’re a little too high right now, Matty.” He’s not serious, right?

“I’ve only smoked like half of this, now come here. Don’t you trust me?”

Begrudgingly, you straddle his hips, and his hands steady you at your waist. You have never been this close to him. The look in his eye is one you haven’t seen before, and you aren’t sure you can blame the weed for it. His breath starts getting heavier with you on his lap. You’re just glad he has a shirt on. You find a voice to speak.

“Okay, what is your bright idea before I chicken out?”

“It’s called shot gunning. Basically, I’m going to take a big hit, then breathe it into your mouth while you breathe in. Simple as that.” His voice is confident as he explains his bright idea.

“That seems sexually charged,” you say. You feel the blush flaming on your cheeks, and he hasn’t even done anything yet.

“Oh, shut up, our mouths don’t actually touch.” Bummer, you wish they would. Matty doesn’t need to know that, though. He continues, trying to defend his idea. “I just think it’ll be easier for you to get a full hit this way, since I don’t have a bong with me. Those are less harsh on the lungs.”

“Matty, you seem more nervous than I am.” That is a lie, straight through your teeth. The nervous energy is practically surging through your bones at the idea of his mouth almost touching your lips.

“I just haven’t done this with a girl I wasn’t currently dating at the time,” he says, biting his tongue afterwards. That is a bit of information he should have left out. Matty’s hands move up and down on your waist as he waits for your response. The heat of his hands burns through your shorts.

“Okay, it’s time for you to be quiet and get on with it. So, what exactly do I need to do?”

“You need to lean in a bit and get closer. I’ll handle the rest, just remember to breathe in when I breathe out, okay?”

“Alright.”

The hand that rests on your waist makes its way slowly up your back, cupping the back of your head and your neck. Out of reflex, you grip his arm, steadying yourself. His eye contact is magnetic as he lifts the joint up to his lips. Your breath isn’t coming as easy to you now, the air becoming thick around the both of you while you watch his lips wrap around the paper.

He breathes in deep, filling his mouth and lungs with smoke, but not blowing it out. He lowers your face down to meet his. Lips a fraction away from touching. Your lips part, waiting for him. Matty opens his mouth, nearly grazing your lips and blows the smoke out while you inhale. His actions are slow, like he’s savoring the moment. Like he won’t get the chance to be this close to you again. You take in the smoke without coughing up a lung this time, feeling the high start to hit, just a little bit.

You turn your head away from him to blow out the smoke, so it isn’t directly in his face. When you face back towards him, the intensity of his eyes almost melt you into a puddle. His eyes stare straight through you, like he can read your every thought.

“How was that?” he asks, breathless. He can’t stop looking at your mouth.

“It was better that time. Easier on the lungs, like you said.” Yeah sure, easier on the lungs, but not easier on your nerves.

“Do you want to try again?” He tries to maintain eye contact, but his gaze falls right back down to your lips. You impulsively lick them.

“Yeah, sure.” You maintain your composure, but as the minutes go on it becomes harder. The way you sit in his lap makes you nervous about moving your hips at all. Every inch of your body pressed into him.

He repeats the same actions, this time however, more intense. His hand on the back of your neck holds you close, keeping you millimeters away from his mouth. Your grip on his arm tightens in response. Oh, how badly you want to lean in. To taste his lips and feel his mouth on you. His eyes never leave your face as he takes another hit. This time, his hand at the back of your head moves to grasp your jaw instead. The hold spans to your neck. Surely, he can feel the rapid pace of your pulse underneath your skin, but you push that thought away.

He pulls your face to his and breathes the smoke into your mouth. Once he was finished, you blow it back out. However, this time, you brought your face back to the same closeness. Maybe the high is giving you a newfound confidence.

“That was nice,” you breathe.

“Yeah?” he questions with his hand still on your face. “Think you want to try to smoke it on your own again?” His facial expression disagrees with the words he says. He doesn’t want you to move at all.

You nod your head at his question, but you also have a different idea in mind. “Can I shot gun you instead?” you asked, timidly. You want to stay on his lap for as long as possible, savoring the impression of his hips against yours. His eyebrows raise, surprised at your question.

“Sure, love. If you think you’re that advanced.” He teases. He hands you back the joint while you attempt to conceal your shaky hands. He notices, though, despite your best efforts. “Start whenever you’re ready, or you can stop if you want. No pressure.” His hands return to your hips as his thumbs begin to rub in a circular motion on the bone, reassuring you.

You are in too deep, there’s no stopping now. You take a hit of the joint, and this time, you managed to fight off the cough. With a shaky hand, you cup his jaw as you lean in. His lips part, ready for you.

Your lips, ever so slightly, graze his before you blow the smoke into his mouth. Electricity runs through you at the brief contact. He exhales away from your face before turning back to you. One of his hands holds your cheek while the other remains on your waist.

“How was that?” you ask, hesitantly. For once, you found yourself not able to read the expression on his face.

“That was perfect. You did a good job.” His brown eyes are blown wide. They flicker to your mouth, to your eyes, then back to your mouth.

“Oh, fuck it,” he exclaims.

In a split second, his lips meet yours, drawing a gasp from your throat. There is desperation in his actions, in the way his hands grip your face and waist like he never wants to let go. He moves against your mouth with fervor, slipping his tongue past your lips. Your free hand combs through his curls, pulling tight as you roll your hips against his lap. Fire runs across your skin as he kisses you deeper before breaking the kiss. He’s quick to say the first word.

“Shit. I’ve complicated things haven’t I? We can act like that never happened if you want to stay just friends.” He talks as though he is not already hard against you, aching for more contact.

“I don’t think I can just forget about this, Matty,” you reply, grinding against him. A groan leaves his lips as his fingers dig into your hips in a bruising grip. “Besides…” You lean down to his ear, breath hot as you speak. “I want you. I want you as more than a friend. Have for a while now.” He reacts to your word fast, grabbing the joint from your hand and putting it out on the ashtray laying on his nightstand. Before he continues, his eyes meet yours, still hesitant to continue.

“You sure?” He needs to make sure this is okay one last time before there is no going back to just friends.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” His lips are on you again as soon as the words leave your mouth. The kiss is hot, passionate, needy. Both of your hands tangle through his brown curls, tugging to hear another groan leave his throat. Your tongue licks into his open mouth, wanting more from him.

Matty’s hands are ambitious, traveling under your shirt he grabs the shirt hem. Goosebumps erupted across your skin as he lifts the shirt off of you. For a moment, he stops to take in your body. The heat in your cheeks tints your face pink as he stares, completely awestruck. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

His lips attach to the newly exposed skin of your chest, nipping and sucking at the skin not covered by your bra. You draw in a sharp breath at the sensation of his teeth and tongue on your skin. Red marks are left behind by his mouth. You feel one of his hands drift up your spine to undo your bra clasp, leaving your chest bare to him.

Matty’s mouth moves onto your exposed breasts, tongue flicking over your nipples before his teeth barely graze them. You can’t keep the moans back from your lips. “Shit, Matty—”

Before he can leave even more marks on your skin, you push him back against the headboard. A dazed look is in his eyes as your hands find their way under his shirt, fingernails delicately grazing his lower stomach. “It’s not fair for only my shirt to be off,” you say as you lift the fabric over his head. You look over him, eyes trailing over his muscles and tattoos. He has more muscle than you remember, firmer underneath your touch, like he could break you if he wanted to.

You move before he does, beginning to mouth at his neck. Groans leave his lips when you suck on his pulse point, sure to leave a bruise. His hands at your waist frantically press your hips into his erection. Your mouth travels down his neck to his chest, and you about to get off of his lap and on your knees before he stops you.

“Can I taste you?” He licks his lips as he watches your face, gauging your reaction. It wasn’t typical for a guy to want to go down on you first. It was the other way around, usually.

“If you want to…” you trail off, feeling flustered at the idea of him knowing you so intimately so quickly.

“I want to make you feel good,” he insists, fingers finding their way under your waist band to remove your underwear and shorts in one go. You start to get up, to move to the place beside him for better access before he stops you. “No. I want you to sit on my face.”

Your eyes go wide. Unsure of what even say. “You want me to… what?”

“Sit on my face.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Besides, it would be a good way to go out.”

“Matty!” you exclaim, lightly hitting his shoulder.

“I’m just being honest,” he pauses in between sentences to lay down flat on the bed. You now found yourself sitting on his lower stomach with no separation. The arousal between your thighs was obvious to him now, hands digging into your hips. “Now, C’mere.”

He drags you by your hips to hover over his face before he pulls you down roughly. Waves of pleasure flow through your body as his mouth makes contact. “Shit— Matty,” you choke out, darting one hand to the headboard to hold yourself up, knees buckling from the sensation. The other hand drops down to his hair, trying to keep yourself grounded. He licks at your cunt like a starved man. He takes his time to run his tongue along you in a broad stroke before he narrows in on your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking. Hard. You jolt in his grip as a whine leaves your throat.

Feeling overwhelmed at the sensation, you nearly lift yourself off his face, but his grip is unyielding. Fingers hold onto your thighs tight. Your hand tugs at his hair in response, and his eyes look up at you as a deep groan leaves his throat. His pupils are wide as he watches you on his tongue. Instead of sucking, he begins to lap at your folds, indulging at the taste of you. A mix of saliva and your arousal begin to run down his chin as he works his mouth against you.

“Fuck, if I’d known you tasted this sweet, I would have done this years ago,” he says after lifting your body off of his face for a moment before bringing you back down.

“Make up for lost time then. Show me what you can do with that mouth,” you challenge. Oh, he delivers. At your words, the speed of his tongue increases, switching between sucking and circling at your clit. One of his hands leaves your thighs, lining up to your center to collect your wetness before pushing two fingers in. Your hips roll against his face. For a moment, you worry you could hurt his neck, but that thought leaves when his strong arms firmly pull you to his mouth. Matty moans against you, the vibrations increasing your ecstasy. His name leaves your lips over and over, not knowing what else to say. All you can think is Matty. All you can feel is Matty. His fingers curl just so, hitting that spot inside you. Hips rut against his face haphazardly now, chasing your orgasm. The heat is growing in your stomach. You’re on fire and his tongue is fanning the flame. “Matty— Matty, fuck, I’m close. Please, I’m close.” You sound unlike yourself, desperate and needy. He obliges at your request, his fingers rubbing over that spot inside of you at a rapid pace while his tongue attaches to your clit. With the harsh suck of his lips on your clit, you come undone.

You feel like you’re floating, and the only thing keeping you grounded is your hand in his hair. The world is hazy around you as you become enveloped in the pleasure his mouth brings you. He doesn’t stop, either. His tongue works you through your high, and his hand encourages your hips to move against his face. Matty loves having you like this. He loves making you lose your senses on his tongue. He loves to watch your face fall apart in pleasure all because of him. He knows his only job right now is to make you feel good, to make you feel better than anyone ever has.

When you finally come down from the high, Matty is still going at it. His tongue is overwhelming, like jolts of electricity through your body. With both hands at his hair you start to push off of him. “Too sensitive,” you reason with him, before moving down to straddle his hips again.

His looks at you with a hunger on his face. Eyes dilated as stare back into yours. A sheen covers his chin and swollen lips. He takes one of his fingers to gather the wetness on his chin before sticking the finger in his mouth, licking it clean. Matty’s lips curl into a smirk when he speaks again.

“Well, did I make up for lost time? Seemed like you liked it from the way you were pulling my hair, darling.”

Pink flushes across your cheeks. “I don’t know that once is going to be enough to make up for it.” You lean in, connecting your lips briefly. The taste of you is prominent on his lips and tongue. “I want more than that right now though,” you add, grinding your hips down on him during your sentence.

“Fucking hell,” he groans. ‘You’re going to be the death of me if you keep doing that.”

“Get on with it then.” He quickly flips you over on the bed so you’re pinned beneath his body. His lips attach to your neck, teeth biting at the skin. He sucks hard, leaving red marks in the wake of his mouth. Every nip of his teeth sends shocks to your stomach. “Shit, Matty, stop teasing me.”

“Just wanted to mark you up a little bit. You’d look good with some purple on your neck.” He stands up to go through his bedside drawer again, grabbing a condom.

You interrupt his actions before he opens it. “You don’t have to use one if don’t want to. I have an IUD.” You try not to sound desperate, but you want to feel him. All of him.

“It seems like you’re the one who doesn’t want me to use it. I didn’t peg you as the type to be that dirty. But if you wanna feel me that much, don’t expect me to argue.” he chuckles, before taking off his boxers. His cock is hard and leaking as he pumps himself a few times. Bigger than you expected. He gets back on the bed, kneeling over you. He kisses you quickly. “You ready?” His hand teases the tip of his cock between your folds, intentionally bumping into your clit.

You nod eagerly. “Please.” He enters you slowly, stretching and filling you as a gasp leaves your throat. “Fuck,” you cry out. Your hands grip his back, nails digging into his skin as he continues to fill you up. Your entire body is in bliss as he bottoms out, adjusting to his size. His mouth falls open as small groans escape his throat. His eyes close shut as he feels you surround him.

He stills, deep inside of you as he kisses you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth. His hands are on your hips, squeezing hard enough to leave bruises. “Shit, you feel so good. So good for me.” You clench around him at the praise, feeling flush spread all over you. He notices the affect his words have on your body. “You like that too, huh? Want me to call you a good girl next?” he taunts. You draw in a shaky breath at his words, but you bounce back fast.

“Just start moving.” The words leave your mouth more as a whine than a demand. Your hips arch against him, seeking friction.

“A bit demanding. I’ll give you what you want for now.”

He draws almost completely out of you, before thrusting back in. You shudder at the quick pace he sets. “Matty— shit,” you whine. He straightens his body back up to admire you underneath him, still snapping his hips at a rhythmic pace. His eyes examine every part of you. He watches the way your face falls open in pleasure as you moan. How your hips follow the movement of his thrusts, and how your muscles tense underneath him.

With his new position, you take your time to admire his body as well. Your hands move to trace the tattoo on his lower stomach, feeling the strength of the muscles there as he rolls his hips into you. His arms grab your attention, too. As his hands grip your waist, his biceps flex. His arms are huge, like he could hold you down and keep you there for hours, using you however he wants.

“Hey.” He interrupts your staring. One of his hands slides up your body to grip your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “Keep looking at me, yeah? Want to see your eyes. Want to see how good I’m making you feel. Got it?” You nod at his request without a second though, wanting to please him.

“Atta girl,” he responds. He takes one of your legs and places it over his shoulder, letting him hit deeper inside you.

“God,” you cry out at the new depth of his cock, pleasure tingling through your skin every time he bottoms out. The feeling is overwhelming, melting you down into a puddle. You can’t stop your eyes from shutting closed at the sensation, slipping into euphoria. Instantly, he stops moving. Your eyes fly open, not sure what’s wrong, why he stopped.

“What did I just tell you?” he asks, voice firm. His hand is back on your jaw again, holding on tight. Your mind was hazy, both from the weed and the pleasure. You pulse around him, unsure what he wants you to say. There’s a short pause before he speaks again. “I told you to keep looking at me. I want to see the look in your eyes when I make you come.” His eyes are dark and lustful while he talks. “You understand?” You nod your head frantically, desperate for him to start moving again.

“I want words this time,” he adds, your head nodding not enough.

“Yes, Matty.” Your voice barely sounds like you. Broken and whiney.

“There we go, that’s what I wanted,” he murmurs. His thumb goes to brush over your lips. “Now, open your mouth.” You listen to his instructions, opening your mouth wide while he holds your chin. Without warning, he leans over you and spits in your mouth. Your eyes widen at his actions, shocked at the way it makes you feel inside. Butterflies forming in your stomach at his next words. “Swallow it.”

Gulping it down quickly, you open back up your mouth, showing him you obeyed. “That’s a good girl, listening to me so well,” he praises. “I think you deserve a reward; would you like that?”

“Please,” you beg, nails raking down his lower stomach lightly. He obliges, placing one hand beside your head to hover over you as he sets a relentless pace again. His hips rock into you roughly, hitting every spot inside of you to fill you with pleasure. You refuse to close your eyes, staring back deep into his own. His other hand urges you to wrap your legs around his hips, grasping tight around your hipbone. This time, he gasps at the feeling of being so deep inside of you. Your cunt squeezes around his cock, making him curse. “Fuck, love. God, you’re so good for me. So fucking good for me, shit.” He was losing himself fast, getting lost in you.

“Matty, please—” you cry out, not quite sure what you’re asking for. The heat was growing inside your stomach rapidly. Every thrust inside of you bringing you closer and closer to release. Only holding on by a thread as he speeds up his hips, hitting you deep and hard. His thumb moves from where it holds into your hip, circling your clit. “Oh, God,” you sob. It was all too much. His cock ruthlessly fucks into you. The feeling of his rough, calloused thumb rubbing your clit without ceasing. His eyes staring into you, overtaken with pleasure as groan after groan leaves his throat. The world blurs around you, and only the feeling of Matty remains. Your orgasm sneaks up on you fast.

“Matty, shit. I- I’m right there.” You hold on just a little bit longer, wanting his permission before you let go. No, needing his permission before you let go.

His thumb speeds up, rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Go on, love. Come around my cock for me,” he encourages. That’s all it takes for the tension building inside your stomach to snap. You come apart for him, waves of euphoria washing over your skin. Heats spreads through your veins as your back arches against the bed. Matty is the only word leaving your lips as he continues his thrusts through your high. His hands hold you together, keeping you from falling apart at the seams. You listen to his instructions, keeping your eyes locked with his throughout your climax, watching his face fall in awe of you. The look in his eyes is the only thing keeping you from drifting off completely.

Matty groans at the sight of you falling apart underneath him. The way you fluttered and pulsed around him only brings him closer to his high. His hips become sloppy against you, losing precision as he starts to reach his own climax. With a series of deep, hard thrusts, he moans out your name as he spills inside of you, hips stuttering. His breathe is labored as he rests his forehead against yours, collapsing on top of you. You stay there in his embrace while you catch your breath, holding him close before he opens his eyes to look at you.

“Shit,” he chuckles. “That was better than I could have ever imagined.” He has a genuine smile on his face, but you take the opportunity to tease him.

“Oh, so you’ve thought about me like this before?”

“Only about a million times,” he replies. Matty slowly pulls out of you, wincing at the sensitivity. As he gets up and walks to the bathroom, dread fills you, thinking that was it. That he was done and expecting you to leave. You sit up on the bed, feeling his cum drip down your thighs as you try find the nerve to stand up and collect your clothes. He comes back in the middle of your attempt to stand with a rag in his hand, wearing a new pair of boxers.

“Hey, hey. Where do you think you’re going?” he stops you. Voice soft.

“Oh. I was just going to get my clothes…” you trail off, not wanting to make things more awkward than they already are. A look of hurt marks his face at your words.

“You know me well enough to know I’m not a complete dickhead,” he sighs. “Now, lean back, let me clean you up.” His hand is gentle as it goes to your knee, signaling you to part your thighs for him. The warm rag in his hands wipes off your thighs before trailing up to your center, taking extra care around the sensitive skin. “I’ll be right back,” he says this time, reassuring you before taking the rag to the bathroom. When he returns, he walks over to his dresser, grabbing a t-shirt and another pair of boxers before returning to the side of the bed. “Arms up.”

“Matty, I can get dressed myself.”

“Sweetheart, let me take care of you. Please?” You lift your arms, complying with his request as he puts the shirt on you. The smell of him immediately engulfs you. He also insists to help you put the boxers on. Finally, he crawls up in the bed next to you, pulling you to rest your head on his chest. You’re safe in his arms. It’s warm and comfortable. The previous feeling of anxiety leaving you.

“I really like you. You know that, right?” he speaks, sounding unsure of himself.

“I really like you, too.”

“Then, let’s just leave it at that for now, yeah? Figure out the rest later.” He briefly kisses your forehead. All that mattered right now is that you’re here in his grasp.

[jazminrhode1]

Sturniolo vs Sturniolo Sturniolo Triplets x Reader One Shot

Summary: You’re best friends with the triplets and you help them get over a fight.

Notes: N/a

You're at the triplets' house in LA watching Netflix on your laptop while they record the latest episode of their podcast. Over your headphones, you can hear yelling, and doors slamming.

You see Chris storm down the stairs to his room in the basement and Matt follows closely behind. He walks over to you slowly, looking upset, and slumps down on the couch next to you.

"What happened?" you asked, closing your laptop.

Matt lies down, resting his head on your lap. He never acts like this. This is going to be bad.

"I'm done," he says, "I'm done with this.

You're confused and need more information. "What happened?" you repeated.

He rolls onto his back, head still in your lap, looking straight up at you. "Nick and Chris fighting. I can't take it anymore, it's every fucking day" he explains.

Nick and Chris had been fighting a lot more than usual but, you figured it would pass - it always does. Nick was always the leader as the eldest triplet but, you could tell Chris didn't want to play the role of the idiotic youngest brother anymore.

You ran your fingers through Matt's hair and said, "Let me go and talk to them". You stood up and made your way upstairs.

You knock on Nick's door before opening it and hear him scream from the other side of the door, "fuck off, Matt!"

"It's me," you said as you opened the door slowly to avoid being hit by anything he might throw in your direction.

"Oh" he said sheepishly and patted the spot on the bed beside him. You made your way over and sat down next to him, resting your head on his shoulder. "What's going on?" you asked.

"Chris is being a dick and Matt's playing devil's advocate again", he said.

"Why do you think Chris is being a dick?" you asked. Hoping he would come to the conclusion on his own.

"He's so argumentative, he doesn't ever want to do what we want to do and he just sits around pouting whenever we try to film", Nick explains.

You nod slowly because you do understand where he's coming from. "I think that Chris is at a place where he's not a dumb kid anymore and -" before you can finish, Nick says "he doesn't want to be treated that way."

"Exactly" you nod. You sit up and look at Nick, he's shaking his head in disbelief. "We're lucky to have you, Y/n," he says.

"I'm gonna go talk to Chris", you say. "I hope he doesn't throw a fit", Nick replies. "That's what we're not going to do" you say as you leave his room and shut the door behind you.

As you walk past the middle level, Matt is where you left him scrolling through his TikTok at full volume. He looks up at you and raises his eyebrows as if to ask how it went. You didn't say anything just simply nodded and headed downstairs.

Music was blasting from Chris' room - you could hear it from upstairs. You didn't bother to knock before opening the door. Chris was lying on his bed with his face buried in his pillow. You took the remote to the stereo and turned it off.

"Hey!" he yelled. When he saw it was you, he went back to sulking.

'What's going on, Chris?" you asked as you walked over and sat next to him. He didn't reply and you thought you may have heard a sniffle but, you couldn't be sure.

"Chris," you started as he turned his head away from you. "You can't just sit in here and sulk. You need to talk to your brothers" you said.

"Why? They think I'm just a big fucking baby" he spat before burying his face back in his pillow.

"No one thinks that" you reassure him. "Nick thinks that" he says.

"Nick loves you. He's just so used to being the oldest he-", Chris interrupts you before you could finish, "he treats me like a big fucking baby."

"Not anymore," you start. "It might take some time but, he's not going to do that anymore," you say.

Chris turns to look at you and you can see the tears welling in his eyes. He was never good at communicating and would always bottle up his feelings until he exploded. Case in point.

"I hate when he treats me like that" Chris pouts.

"Sometimes, you need to tell him that," you say, "you might be triplets but, he can't read your mind".

Chris nods. He knows you're right no matter how much he hates to admit it. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his eyes with his sleeve.

"Are you OK?" you ask. He nods, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

He jumps on top of you and wraps his arms around you, rolling over and pulling you onto his chest. At that moment, Nick and Matt walk in confused by what they're witnessing. You and Chris are giggling about how ridiculous he is and Matt piles on to join the hug.

Nick crossed his arms and shakes his head. "This is why I treat you like a child" he exclaims.

Chris frees one arm and tries to swing at Nick, still giggling and feeling much better.

"Get in here", Matt says. "Yeah, you guys should call a truce", you add.

Reluctantly, Nick walks over and flops on top of you all. You all roll until you're laying side by side, staring at the flicker of the ceiling light.

"Thank you", Matt whispers. Chris and Nick nod in agreeance.

"We couldn't do any of this without you, Y/n," Nick says. Chris and Nick shake their heads in unison.

"I love you, idiots," you say, with a smile on your face. "We love you more," Chris says as he rests his head on your shoulder.

[cloveroctobers]

MICHAEL BERZATTO — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: whew I’ve been debating if I wanted to get into writing for Michael again. For the works that I’ve already dropped for the bear I’ve gone back to rewatch the episodes to connect it to my work and episode 6 is tough! The entire show isn’t some walk in the park ofc but knowing what we know of Michael? They deliver it all in pieces but it’s enough. We’ll only ever get to see Michael through everyone else’s eyes since that’s all that’s left and it’s really messed up to think about. My summer prompts are supposed to be light hearted but I’m also a angst loving writer smh. Brace yourselves.

Originally had no intent of adding a prompt to the mix just like Richie’s but here’s what I’m using: “you’re gonna melt. Get in here.”

*GIF BELONGS TO: @darlingshane

WARNINGS: talks of living a traditional future, heavy mental-health fic, mentions of opioids, and a sprinkle of sexual content somewhere.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ 　༘♡ ⁀➷ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ 　༘♡ ⁀➷ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ 　༘♡ ⁀

[130 days BEFORE 7 fishes…]

His eyes are closed but he’s not asleep.

He hears the front door creak open but Michael knows not to get his hopes up. He’s curled up on the stoop, finding it as his second bed over the past three days. Between the stoop and the grass, it all depends on what feels more comfortable but he cannot take the cold shoulder from her.

Except he has no choice, he already attempted to barge his way through once before but the semi-automatic pistol that was pressed into his cheek from her uncle was a hint for Michael to take it easy.

It feels like something light touches his back, shaking him to open his eyes. He’s wrapped in a blanket of his as he shifts, one arm coming up to block the light from blinding him. After a moment, Michael realizes it’s her sock covered foot that shook him awake as she pulls her long leg back. He wonders if she’s off to the gym again and his clears his throat, ready to greet her this morning but her words beat him to it.

“You’re gonna melt. Get in here.” Her chocolate eyes are set out into the street, beyond the gate, already aware that her neighbors witnessed what Michael’s been up to these days.

Michael’s groaning as he sits up, eyes scanning the front yard and the neighbor’s house to the left of you. It’s a elderly man who’s a vet and Michael swore he’s nothing but a old racist with the way he always eyed how Michael was affectionate towards her in public, whether it was him kissing her goodbye before he headed down to Chicagoland, him spinning her back around into his arms when she was trying to leave for the gym at early hours, or just them hanging out in their backyard by the pizza oven he and Richie built together. The vet’s locking up his door with his gray Great Dane trained right beside him, it’s almost instant that his eyes peer right over to Michael’s.

He knows he raises a two-finger salute to the man to irritate him but surprisingly the man gives a sneer of a smile in his direction, shaking his head as he goes down the stairs.

That felt like an insult in itself.

“Old fart,” Michael states as watched him head down the street with his dog.

Michael turns back to the front door, which is ajar and she’s no longer standing in the door way.

She’s left it open for him.

Michael hurries to get to his feet now to enter the brick bungalow home. What used to be his home. Should still be his home. He closes the door shut behind him, keeping the rising heat of the morning where it belongs, his blanket slowly slipping from his shoulders as he tries to pick up on what’s changed in the weeks of his absence.

To the left into another room, there’s still the small table right against the wall that’s adjacent to three large windows in the living room. The console table is now painted a pale blue with small dainty looking pictures seated right on top, faux white peonies that resembles her favorite flowers (Michael’s brought home plenty of those for her to see in the morning) are placed on top of some books, followed by a large mirror that’s hung up on the wall.

Which leaves Michael to get a glimpse at himself and he almost gets angry at how pitiful he looks right now when he knows it’s his fault that he’s in this situation, that he put them there. So he rubs at his face, fingertips brushing over the slight stubble that he’s letting grow in since he hasn’t been in much of a mood to shave, mentally telling himself to get a grip so he can hopefully get back on track with her.

The love of his life.

Blowing out a breath, he sees the door to his right cracked open which was their bedroom and he wants nothing more than to hold her there in his arms again. Their bedroom held many nights of love and hurt but that’s not something that can be changed. It’s just the way it was.

Michael tears his eyes away from the door, already sensing that she wasn’t in there and walks through the living room to his left, pass the stairs tucked in the corner, along with another door behind the half-wall on the right which contained the laundry room and continued around the corner to the kitchen.

He’s standing in the middle of the hardwood floor as she has her back to him, hands leaning against the counter as she stares out the window in front of the kitchen sink. Michael’s already tossing his blanket on the arm of one of the kitchen chairs, feeling some sort of comfort in their updated black and white modern kitchen.

She doesn’t initiate the conversation and there’s clearly tension in her shoulders that Michael is itching to be behind her. Itching to get rid of what he’s caused but he knows it’s probably best that he doesn’t act on impulse just yet.

That doesn’t stop him from scraping the chair around so it’s facing her, plopping down and stretching his back as some sort of massage he needs for himself. Folding his arms with his legs spread out, he picks up on the temperature and says, “it could be colder in here you know?”

Michael always preferred colder weather compared to hot. If he was still in the house, rest assured this place would be below sixty-eight and he knows she had to have the thermostat on at least seventy-four.

She represented summer with a natural glow to her bronzed skin and dark lengthy wavy hair, full of sweet smiles that usually matched the sparkle in her brown eyes and tasted like peaches, with a touch that felt like summer sunrises, and a laugh that flowed like the gentle flutter of butterfly wings. She’s the light that Michael wanted to stay in, hold onto, and be part of.

He hated how his consistent winter blues began to disrupt the warmth of her being.

“…you can go back outside and deal with heat exhaustion or you can just be quiet.”

“I think we’ve done enough of this silent treatment, Lena.” Michael rasps, “just talk to me.”

“What good is talking going to do if we’re never on the same page anymore…or if ever?”

“What do you mean?”

“Michael, do you realize how much you showed your ass at my sister’s baby shower last month?” She whirls around, back pressed against the counter now, “Do you realize what you said to me?”

Michael clenched his eyes shut, scratching at his eyebrow and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah honey, I know. And I regretted it ever since.”

“Do you?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t. I fucking love you with all that I have, which ain’t much but it’s something… I just—I can’t always be everything to everyone all the time.” Michael says, feeling his eyes burn.

Lena feels her own eyes close, welling with tears as her brows furrow. Michael knows that look and he’s off his feet now, ready to walk around the small island that’s keeping him from her.

Lena’s hand goes out, stopping him from coming any closer to her, “uh uh. Don’t.”

With her eyes open, the tears spill from the corner of her eyes and she doesn’t bother to wipe them away this time. She sniffs as she chews on the back of her bottom lip for a bit, “so what do you want to do about this?”

“We talk it through.”

“For what? Closure?” She laughs humorlessly, “to ease your heart? although you already broke mine a couple of times. You can’t claim to love somebody and break their heart repeatedly, love shouldn’t have to hurt this damn bad. Love should feel better than this.”

It wasn’t all bad being with Michael. Sure they’ve only been together for a solid four years since Lena wouldn’t count the back and forth prior to that. Michael was dealing with a situationship before he took a full interest in Lena and she wasn’t going for it. Lena always wanted a love that mattered and she kept choosing Michael Ira Berzatto but lately it doesn’t feel reciprocated.

Michael drops his head, resting his arms against the island as he stretches in search of words, “…you’re right it shouldn’t and I’m sorry that nothing in life is ever easy. I want to be with you but sometimes it just doesn’t feel worth it and it’s not anything you’ve done it’s just how it feels to me.”

There’s a lump in Lena’s throat but she can appreciate the honesty this time around. She hears what her boyfriend is saying to her and she knows Michael loves her dearly but these moods he gets in along with the hurtful things he says and the disappearing acts isn’t healthy. So she had to kick him out (off the couch) to get a better sense of how to deal with this but the reality is she wasn’t. She closed him out even when Michael tried to come back the next day to locked doors since he always forgot his key, so she gave him a duffel bag full of his clothes to take with him to his mother’s for a little while.

Until he got the picture.

Lena didn’t necessarily want Michael to go back to his childhood home with Donna but she learned from Tiffany that’s where he’s mainly been. She didn’t think about where he would go but all she knew was that she needed him out. Michael didn’t want to put his shit on Richie or Tiffany but he also didn’t want to spend nights alone down at Chicagoland. He wanted to be in bed with the woman he felt truly connected to. Talking to her until sleep found them, holding her.

He wanted to be with his home.

It’s been a whole month and Michael was ready to do something about his relationship with Lena. She was not someone he wanted to lose but he couldn’t help the spurts that erupted in his brain.

“Michael you told me you didn’t want to marry me or have a family with me in front of my family. I thought that was something we were building towards…something we wanted to add to this life we share together. We got this house together so what’re we doing here if that’s off the table now?”

Michael’s envisioned a life with Lena the moment he expressed that he was in love with her, sitting parked along the curb one rainy Chicago night over milkshakes and pork chop sandwiches, He thought about kids that maybe looked a little like himself but mostly had Lena’s good qualities…the moment they entered the house together with their new set of keys. He thought about being brought to tears seeing Lena in a wedding dress being led down the aisle by her uncle/godfather.

Of course he wanted all of that with Lena…he just didn’t know if he deserved it. It was contradicting to think about if maybe that’s how his own father felt when he looked at Michael, Natalie, and Carmen but that didn’t erase the hurt he put them all through including his mother.

“I didn’t mean it. None of it. I was in my head, the bad parts you know?” Michael clenched his biceps with his hands as he struggled to get the words out, struggling to make it all make sense, the way he felt.

Lena deeply exhales, head dimming, that the brim of her hat is shielding her face that Michael just wants to yank it off. He didn’t like when Lena did that, hide her pretty face or her emotions but it was hypercritical because Michael’s been hiding a lot of the weight. He just didn’t want anyone to know that, however Lena knew this and she wasn’t just anyone. How could she not? She’s seen it all inside of this house and just simply being together, she just wanted Michael to trust her and let her in.

Fully.

“I get it…but we’re supposed to be a team. Together. I do love you and I want to support you through this but I can’t help you if you choose other methods that’ll push me away.”

“What? You think I’m some sort of project for you? Like I’m one of those horn dogs down at the gym that need some pointers? I don’t need fixing, Lenny.” The way he used her nickname felt like it was against her, condescending almost.

“That’s not what I’m saying to you at all.” Lena’s voice was always so soft like the melody of a harp and she always knew how to keep her tone leveled despite the disrespect she was feeling from the man she loved, “what I’m saying to you is I’m recognizing that you’re going through something. I’m your girl, what makes you think I wouldn’t? My dad…you know Michael. I’m not trying to fix you, I’m trying to love you through it all.”

Michael met Lena a month after her father passed tragically. She was outside of the restaurant, leaning against the building and Richie was the first to set eyes on her, telling Michael there was some, “babe,” just lingering outside.

That was a question mark in itself since Chicagoland had all sorts of people making themselves comfortable on the street. Michael didn’t expect to find someone like Lena there on the fresh touch of winter, warm smiles despite the frost beginning to hit.

“Hey, you’re gonna freeze out here, Mr.” Was the first thing she said to him over her shoulder, once she realized Michael’s been watching her while she paced, lightly tapping a harmonica against her fingertips.

She’s stunning to say the least as Michael breaks his stare to glance down at his short sleeve attire. He shrugs, “Nah, don’t worry about me. I take ice baths for fun, it’s kinda my thing. You on the other hand, look like you’re ready for Christmas.”

It’s only the beginning of October but Lena’s dressed like she’s prepared to spend a night out in Antarctica, wool hat with a pompom attached to it, huge gold hoops poking through her dark hair, a winter coat that was probably two sizes too big for her frame, and some furry boats. He laughed about it then and still laughs about it now, she was cute as hell not being used to Chicago’s weather and thinking some fifty to low forty degree weather bothered Michael.

A smile was still placed on her face that Michael couldn’t help but to mirror, “You caught me, I am actually looking for the chunky man with the white beard. He likes to wear red a lot.”

“Yeah, i think he’s in there. Probably enjoying a requested pastrami grilled cheese with a side of tomato soup and a spiked hot coco to go.”

“Sounds filling.”

Michael nods, “with my hands on it, you bet your doll face it’s something special. Now…what warm meal can I get you?”

“Oh you’re kind, I…can’t go in there.”

Michael blinks, “why not? I hear from some of my team you’ve been out here every Thursday around this time just watching. There’s nothing in there that’s gonna hurt ya, I promise.”

“…this was my dad’s place where he liked to have lunch. He was a musician and travelled a lot but he’s a Chicago native through and through. When I would spend summers with him, he’d take me here for lunch for the Penne Alla Vodka when I was a little girl…then I stopped spending summer’s with him.”

Michael listens carefully to this and asks, “what’s his name?”

“Lionel. Lionel Marsalis, he had a familiar relationship with the previous owner…which I’m assuming is probably your dad.”

Michael takes this information in and knows it rings a bell. He’s seen a black and white picture of a man that was standing beside his father and uncle Jimmy once before, holding a harmonica up to his lips while his father had his head thrown back in laughter. Uncle Jimmy was full of smiles, and the only one with his eyes set on the camera as the man in the middle played on with his eyes closed.

“Well in that case, we’re practically family already!” Michael holds out his hand for Lena to grasp, “And you’re no stranger, so you deserve a seat inside don’t you think? C’mon in, I’ll even let you get the best seat in the house…which is right next to mine.”

Lena thinks about it, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before she had to just take a chance and enter. However she had a man here who had some sort of a connection to her father just like she had to his. So she places a warm hand in his cold rough one, Michael giving her’s a squeeze followed by a grin as he began walking backwards, reaching out for the door to lead the way.

“And I don’t ever want you to stop loving me,” Michael exhales, “I just don’t want my issues to outshine what’s good. What we got, it’s good isn’t it?

“We can’t keep ignoring this though, don’t you get that? It’s causing us both more harm than good.” Lena says, “Did you get rid of them?”

Michael freezes in place, not expecting Lena to bring this up. He thought the focus would just be on him being reckless with his mouth during a bad time. He couldn’t tell you what got into him, popping in at his supposed sister-in-law’s baby shower, the numerous questions of when he was going to pop the question, have kids of his own with dear Lena, got to be all too much for the usual charismatic man.

And he unfortunately took it out on Lena.

As if right on cue, Michael feels the pinching and throbbing in the palm of his left hand. The scarred hand he carelessly injured last winter when he was having a low moment down at Chicagoland. That ultimately added to his routine of numbing pain by the quietness of a certain white horse pill.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t lie to me, Mike.”

Michael huffs, “I’m not, want to check my pockets?”

“Yeah, maybe I do.”

“Go for it then.”

Lena hesitates but Michael holds her stare. It was hurtful that their relationship resulted in this, a sense of trust almost lost now. Yet it was just as hurtful for Lena to figure it out and Michael not being comfortable enough to confide in her. She wanted him to sink into her especially when he was feeling low but Michael felt like it was selfish to do that. Selfish to dim all the light that Lena is by his darkness. He wasn’t flashy but his love for Lena was genuine and damn right he wanted the world to know. That pride was something ferocious! He was positive that the best thing he’s ever done was love Lena Marsalis and he wanted everyone to see just how happy they made each other so why would be even dare ruin it with his ongoing pain?

That didn’t make sense to him. What made sense was loving as hard as he could, tussling with the bear that was deep inside, against anything that wanted to challenge him.

He would never go down without a roar.

Michael’s dark eyes are focused only on Lena as she takes slow steps towards him. He’s standing up straight now, standing sideways from the island as Lena approaches him. She’s playing with her fingers and Michael knows that is a nervous habit, he can’t bring himself to be pissed that she’s doing this because his heart goes soft just as the thought of her alone.

She’s inhaling as she stands face to face with Michael, eyes trailing over his features as if she could ever forget what he looks like. When her hands brush against his waist, as if she could ever forget what he feels like, and when her fingertips just touch the outline of his Jean pockets she breaks.

A sob erupts over her frame and a balled up fist goes up to her mouth to almost slam it back down. However the damage was already done as she’s fighting to catch her breath through her sobs, and the furrow in Michael’s brows hits his face and he can’t help but to pull her hard against his chest. He’s holding Lena again and it’s easy for him to swallow her pain, the pain that he’s caused. The motion of him pulling her to him, knocks her hat off from her head and Michael’s replacing that barrier with his lips pressing to the top of her rosemary scented head.

Lena’s hands are balled up against his chest, nails almost gripping his shirt as she cries and Michael just squeezes the top of her shoulders with one hand and the other holds her by the back.

“We’re gonna be fine. I’m gonna be fine. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Michael chants with his lips on her forehead and Lena only clenches her eyes tighter.

Those apologies don’t come without the fear of wondering if this was truly it for ol’ Mikey and Lenny. However they don’t dwell on it when Lena places open mouthed kisses against his beating throat. A rumble forms at the action and Michael’s hands are sliding down her lower back as she’s looking at him now with fresh tears.

“Let’s go back to bed,” her voice is hushed as Michael is caressing her face now.

He nods because he feels it too before he smashes his lips right against hers, almost stealing the air right from her lungs.

And Lena let’s him.

He carries her like he’s done before the first time they entered this house together long ago, without the ring or the title but that didn’t matter. Their feelings for one another was just enough then.

Michael can’t keep his eyes off Lena as she lays on the bed, eyes low and reaching up to rest the palms of her hands flat against his chest where his heart beats. His hand rests right against her’s, keeping it tight in his hold so she knows that his heart can be completely in her hands if it’s still what she wants.

They hold eye contact, even when he’s peeling off her gym pants and he’s kissing her soft thighs and shea butter scented skin. His hand rests flat against the thin material that’s shielding him from one of her most sensitive parts and it’s pulsating just from his touch alone leaving her whining, which is music to his ears. He lays against her before his finger shifts the material to the side.

“I love you,” she says to him, “always.”

And that almost makes him want to cry as he slides inside, “I love you too, Lenny. So much.”

He groans while settling inside, trying to burn this feeling into his mind forever, how they almost melt together, welcoming what they’ve been missing. Their hands rise up along the bed, clasping onto each other as Michael begins to find rhythm against the downfall of what once was.

There’s a candle that sits on Lena’s night stand, burning in the distance as they release together. Equally there’s tears on both of their faces as Michael pulls back to get another good look at Lena. Her fingertips are brushing his tears and he leans down to kiss hers away.

‘I miss you.’ She thinks and Michael’s lips tells her just the same before he lays down beside her, pulling her to rest against his chest in the room they share.

And she’ll always miss Michael, especially when she crosses that bridge on her way to work, the same place she can’t bother to do her morning jog along anymore, and that same bridge where they spent many nights together, knees pressed together as he animatedly talks about some wild story she has to act like she’s hearing for the very first time but doesn’t mind, just happy to see a smile on his face.

It’s the same smile that matches the one she catches when they share a bed together. The last time he really had the chance to hold her before a harsh winter came to his childhood home without her by his side, with her hand caressing the scruff on his jaw, thigh tossed over his hip. Her fingers start trailing every detail of his face from the bridge of his wide nose, the crinkles by his dark eyes, and the smooth smile of teeth that splits onto his lips although their relationship has completely altered…the love would always still be there even if at a distance.

His eyes are closed but he’s not asleep.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ 　༘♡ ⁀➷ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ 　༘♡ ⁀➷ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ 　༘♡ ⁀

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.