#I've never felt so emotional for celebrates before

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Made for me.” // Aemond Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Thank you everyone for 1K followers, I am so grateful for all the support I've received for my fics, it's kind of an emotional moment for me cause I never thought I'd get this far, so here is the fic from this poll! this is short since I did not have much time and I do not want to delay my 1k celebration fic further! <3

MDNI // DD:DNE // reader discretion is advised.

Summary: As far as Aemond can remember, he had liked you, not in a way a brother loves his sister, no, in a way a man loves a woman, finding out that you were soon to be betrothed to a Tully for alliance, he feels devastated, until he decides he can prevent it, by ruining you.

WARNINGS: heavy noncon to dubcon, mindbreak, mindfuck, canon typical incest, creepy aemond(?), possessive aemond, dark!aemond, jealousy, obsession, breeding kink, tiddy sucking, virginity loss, mentions of blood, purity culture, medieval age standards (no smut until 18+), cum eating, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, porn with little plot. + not proofread.

block the tag #MAE:DARK!CONTENT to avoid seeing dark content from me.

WC: 3k

For as long as Aemond can remember, he had always been smitten with you, his little sister, someone very dear to him, he had loved you since the moment you were born, immediately becoming someone he swore to protect.

He was rumoured to have some romantic feelings for helaena, which wasn't entirely false but if anyone were to look closely, they would realise that the longing gaze he holds for helaena is nothing compared to the one when he looks at you.

As he grew into a man, these feelings developed further, and as he watched you grow into a woman, desire managed to get a hold of him. He remembers the first time he felt carnal attraction towards you, it was your sixteenth nameday, you had worn a beautiful green dress that showed a little cleavage, something his mother would've been against but she let it slide that time, he remembered as you bent over in front of him to get something from the table, giving him full view of your tits which he immediately looked away from.

That night he had rushed back to his chambers as fast as possible to tug on his length at the thought of you.

He was never the same after that, every touch ignited a fire in him, when you would lay on his thigh as you both sat beneath the godswood while he read, he had to fight the urge to take you right then and there, taking your maidenhead in front of the gods to bind you to himself forever.

As the years passed, his feeling for you grew stronger and stronger.

“Aem!” There was your sweet voice calling him once again, his gaze lifted from the book on the table to your form which stood a few metres away from him, you smiled when you noticed his gaze was on you, walking over to him so you stood next to him, peering down on the book he was reading.

“What are you reading?” you ask curiously, voice leaking with inquiry, he looked down at his book before glancing up again, “Just a book about our history, valyria.” he tells you and you lean down slightly over his shoulder, your platinum blonde locks falling over and curtaining the side of his face as you read the text.

“Would you read it to me?” you inquire and he nods, before you shoot him the bright smile that never seemed to leave your face, and pull the chair beside him, causing the wood to make a noise as it glid against the floor, and sitting down on it.

He began reading and you listened to him for quite a while, before your eyes started becoming droopy and closing as sleep tried to overwhelm you, it wasn't because you were not interested in the history, no, it was due to the fact that your older brother's voice was extremely comforting.

He chuckled when he tried your efforts to keep yourself awake and closed the book, “Sister, you must not fight when sleep finds you, go to thine chambers and rest.”

“But brother! You have just gotten to Aegon's conquest.” you pout, and he chuckles, “I shall read it to you tomorrow, now go rest.” he manages to convince you and obey his word.

Aemond sighs as he watches you walk away, you were the Apple of his eye, everyone knew, he had been protective of you since you were younger, though he developed certain type feelings, the kind that a brother shouldn't develop for his sister, but alas, targaryens have queer customs, after all, his elder sister was married to Aegon, their older brother.

It was only time until mother betrothed you both, and he would wait patiently for that, he would often imagine how married life with you would be, it would be perfect.

But all those dreams were crushed when he finds out that your mother was planning to betrothed you to a tully, to get their alliance in case of Aegon's claim for the throne. Angry was an understatement, he was extremely pissed off, and what did you do? You gladly accepted it, even managing to look happy at the proposal.

Just then he remembers his elder sister's words. ‘If one possesses a thing, the other will take it away.’

He could not have that.

He can not have you be taken away from him, that too by an undeserving house such as tully.

You knew something was extremely odd when Aemond came to your chambers at night, he never did that, always deeming it inappropriate for a lady and a man to be together after the moon has risen unless they were husband and wife. So it was extremely shocking as to what he was doing in your chambers, knowing he took the secret entrance since the guard did not mention Aemond at all when you entered.

“Brother? What are you doing here so late?” you ask as you approach him, he is sitting on the chair near the fireplace, turning his head to the side as if to acknowledge your presence, the light bouncing off his face making his features look much more angular and intimidating.

“I have missed you, dear sister.” he stood up and turned to face you, and you peered up at him confused, “I had heard about your betrothal to a tully, though I do not remember his name, I came here to wish you pleasantries and a prosperous marriage.” he tries his best to not scowl.

You smile widely.

And that immediately sets him off.

“Thank yo-” before you could finish your sentence, Aemond grabs you harshly by your cheeks, pulling his face towards his own, “You're happy? You're fucking happy?” he growls as his breath fans your face, “Aemond-” before you could say anything, the same hand that was gripping your cheeks goes to your hair, pulling your head back, your hands fly up to his to make him release his grip as the tug at your strands were incredibly painful.

He doesn't say anything but slams his lips against yours, moving against yours in a frantic rhythm, your eyes widen at this and you push at his chest to pull him off, but he uses the grip on your hair to further push you against him, and soon you're all flush against him, weakly trying to pushing him off while the hand in your hair keeps tightening as the other holds your waist gently.

A true contrast.

He pulls away to breathe and he looks at your teary eyes, as you look at him, “Aemond- you're scaring me.” you say weakly, shaking as his eye narrows, “I love you.” he blurts out and you look at him shocked, “But- we're siblings–”

“We're also targaryens.” he cuts you off, and lets go of your hair.

You squeal when he lifts you up roughly, before making haste over to your bed and throwing you on it, and before you can get up, he traps you in his arms.

“I do not wish to see you married to someone else, you have been mine, since the day you were born, sister.” he whispers in your ear before pressing a kiss to it. You gasped when you felt his hand grope at your clothed breast giving it a tight squeeze and you tried prying his hand off to no avail.

“Aem- please stop-” you beg but he doesn't listen and his eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, “Sister, tell me the truth have you not felt anything when you stay with me? A warm feeling in your heart?” your breathe hitches as he asks you that question, and you look away from him, feeling ashamed that you held feelings for him, they very well hidden, you felt ashamed whenever you would feel heat pool between your legs as you watched Aemond do quite literally anything.

He undoes his breeches and pulls his cock out, undeniably hard, “If I ruin you then mother won't marry you off to him, besides, no one would want a woman that is ruined, especially by her own brother.” he says and you sob, shaking your head and you gasp as you feel his dick pressed against your core.

Your silence gave him the answer he needed, he tore your dress apart, the stitches popping off with a noise, as he changed his grip and undoes your clothing.

You try to push him off and hit his chest, in defiance, but he is much stronger than you, pinning your hands above with his one hand as the other pulls off the shredded clothing, with your final strength, you deliver a hard kick to his crotch which causes him to groan and plop on the bed next to you in pain, and you use that change to try and scramble up and off the bed but to your disdain, he immediately recovers and pulls you down with a tight grip on your leg but pushing them apart, placing himself between them and then wrapping his hands around your neck, the grip cutting off air circulation rapidly as you struggled against him.

“Fucking cunt.” he says before spitting on your face and you cry, you feel your brain go dark as you start loosing consciousness at the lack of oxygen only for him to let go, cause you to take a deep breath on relax, snapping you awake at once.

“Sister, look how much you are leaking, way too much for someone that pretends like they hate it.” he rubs his cock against your folds, coating it in your juices and he groans, before he leans in, kissing your neck and then your breasts before pulling back.

“Brother please- ah!” you gasp when you felt his hot fingers press against your bud, rubbing it, making you squirm as you grip his hand and try to push it off but his grip stays firm and you eventually give up, hands falling to your sides and gripping the sheets below as he plays with cunt.

He knew you'd eventually break.

He did not want to hurt you or force you.

But you weren't making it easier and he did not have much time either, so he had to resort to this.

You reach your peak with a loud moan of his name which went straight to his cock, he leaned down and kissed you once more, holding your legs apart by force and then grabbing his cock before lining it up against your entrance, slowly pushing the thick head in, your hands shot up to his shoulder to grab them, nails digging into the skin as he rips you apart on his cock, bullying into you without mercy, his hand covering your mouth as you let out painful whines to shush you up. You whimper when you feel him fully sheathed inside you, feeling too full, your cunt clenching around him painfully tight to push him out but he stays there.

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you were made to.” he whispers in your ear before pulling his hips back and snapping them forward, causing you to let out a scream, although it was muffled, at the pain. The orgasm before had only helped a little, he was too thick and big.

At first he starts slowly, pulling back and snapping one at a time, trying to give you time to adjust until you whimpered his name, which made him lose any and all control he had as his pace became faster, brutally slamming his cock inside you as you whined and moaned beneath him.

The sound of wet slapping noises soon fill the air and the smell of sex starts taking over, your mind becomes all hazy at what was happening to you, you watch as Aemond takes one of your breasts in his mouth, suckling on the nipple, drool spilling all over it while his hand gropes the other, massaging it. Your hand travels to his hair and you arch your back, shoving more of your breast in his mouth, making him groan in delight.

He pulls back with a pop and you look at him gasping and wide eyed as he thrusts into you, eyes dropped as slight drool leaks from the sides of your mouth, letting out moans when he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Fuck- you're so perfect, made just for me.” he grunts, supporting himself on his hands above you, hair curtaining around your face as you stare directly in his eye, watching him close it in pleasure, gasping when he feels you clench around him.

“You're mine right?” his eye opens and he looks at you intensely, you nod, agreeing with what he was saying, your mind losing all of its ability to think rationally the moment he entered inside you, you felt your stomach tighten.

“Use your words.” he commands and you gulp, “Yes only yours— ah! Fuck aemond!” you throw your head back as your second orgasm hits you, moaning out loud and he let's out a shaky breath before you felt his thrusts become sloppy, “Fuck, I'm gonna fill this cunt up, watch my seed take root in your womb, you're mine, mine to fuck, marry, breed, you'll give me many heirs won't you?” he goes off, voicing his thoughts and you feel warm and turned on at his words, “Yes- brother, I'm all yours, only yours.” you say, grabbing his cheek and rubbing a thumb on his scar and he finishes inside you with a loud moan, pushing himself to the hilt as his cock spurts thick ropes of cum inside you.

He pulls out, still somehow hard and lays down beside you, and you feel so empty without him inside you, so you whine, “Aem- I need you.” you pout and he looks at you wide eyed, and you don't know what comes over you, but you find your patience running thin as you wait for him to do something, so you take matters into your own hands, getting on top of him, grabbing his blood soaked cock before rising your hips and sitting down on it.

“Sister?” Aemond asks questionably, as he grabs your hips, watching you bounce on top of his cock, breasts moving up and down as you moan loudly into the chambers, only his name, on repeat and that's when he finally understands what happened.

He broke you.

He fucked your mind.

He should feel bad, knowing how now you're seeking him and his cock out like a bitch in heat but he doesn't, he feels more accomplished at that, knowing you desire no one but him. He moans when he feels your cunt spasm around him as you reach your peak, and instead of stopping, you continue riding him, wanting to bring him to his peak as well, you take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, making him grip it and play with your nipple.

“Brother please! Please cum inside me, I want you to fill me up.” you beg and Aemond groans at that, “Want- want you so bad! please haa, I need to have your children.” you moan and Aemond felt himself reach his peak harshly at that, filling you up once again.

Aemond changes the position, getting on top of you again, cock still inside and you give him a small smile before grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss, his lips move passionately against yours, before he pulls away, kissing down your neck and to your breasts, he pulls out and slowly trails kissing down to your down, watching as his loads of cum leak out from you, he pushes his tongue out and collects his juice on his mouth, before shoving it inside again, engulfing your cunt in his mouth, you grab his hair and grind your hips against his face, moaning his name loudly as he works his mouth, his nose shoved against your clit, creating friction whenever he moves his head, and soon enough, you reach your peak once again, “Brother!” you moan as you arch your back and he groans into your cunt, lapping up at the juices being secreted from you, before pulling away from it, placing wet kisses on your inners thighs and coming up towards you again, and kissing you, shoving his tongue inside your mouth, making you taste both your combined juices, and you groan into the kiss at the taste.

You both spent that night just like that.

Your mother was horrified when she had heard about this, and tully had walked in on the conversation, scrunching up his face in disgust and calling off your betrothal, you stood with your arm wrapped around Aemonds arm as he explain his mother what happened, looking away and hiding in his arms as she yelled at him for ruining and spoiling you, before inevitable deciding to betroth you both as result.

And you both were married, two moons later.

The maesters were extremely confused when you went into labour earlier than what they had predicted, they thought that it was going to be a stillbirth, yet they were confused to see when a healthy silver hair babe popped out, crying and cooing. They considered it a miracle but only Alicent and Aemond knew the truth.

Aemond stood there with his child in his arms as he gazed lovingly upon him, a son. You smiled at him as he cooed in high valyrian.

“Maester, When can I take her again?” That question caught the maester off guard and he cleared his throat before speaking up, “I would suggest waiting 6 weeks until she is fully healed, or 3 moons time.” and Aemond hummed.

The maester leaves the room, leaving you, aemond and the babe alone, the baby cooing at his father, small hand entangled in his hair.

“After you heal, I shall put a babe inside you again, dear wife.” He comes down and sits next to you and you smile, “As you wish, husband.” you tease and press a kiss on his lips.

———

[goldfades]

PARDON MY EMOTIONS / I SHOULD PROBABLY KEEP IT ALL TO MYSELF ── 𝐉𝐁⁵

❪ requested -> "jude angst to fluff WITH PLOT!" ❫

─ pairing | jude bellingham x fem!reader

─ word count | 1.7k

─ warnings | lots of angst to fluff, miscommunication (kind of), jude being an ASSHOLE but making up for it.

─ ev's notes ! | i'm now in my football kick due to the euros and copa america so please send in requests!!! 🤗🎀

⇨ missing out on updates? check out my masterlist!

BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP with England's star football player had its ups and downs.

You got to be a WAG, enjoying the glamorous lifestyle that came with dating Jude. From attending high-profile matches and exclusive events to traveling the world and mingling with other footballers and celebrities, life was never boring. The media attention was overwhelming at times, but you learned to navigate the spotlight and maintain a sense of normalcy.

However, that was the problem. You longed for a sense of normalcy, that was all you wanted was for your relationship. The glitz and glamour of being a WAG was only fun for a bit, not it seemed like you never got a moment to yourself. This was the root of all your relationships, somehow ─ Jude never understood why you wouldn't like all the media attention.

"It's overwhelming," you muttered as you played with the bottom of your of your coffee cup, the warm ceramic providing little comfort. Jude sat across from you, his expression both of concern and confusion.

"What do you mean, overwhelming?" He replied, his gaze locked on you. "This is part of the life we have. The attention, the media... it's just something we have to deal with."

You sighed, looking out the window at the city outside. "But that's just it, Jude. I never wanted this. I love you, and I support your career, but I miss having a private life. I miss being able to go out without cameras following us or people recognizing us everywhere we go."

"Overwhelming for you?" He sighed, his expression hardening. "How do you think I feel? Look, I'm not asking for much ─ I've given you the best life I can,"

You scoffed, he wasn't listening to what you were saying. "This isn't about you or-or what you've given me. I'm grateful, I really am-"

"Doesn't sound like it," Jude cut you off, his voice rising in frustration. "It sounds like you're not happy with anything I've done."

You felt a surge of anger, the words bubbling up before you could stop them. "That's not fair, Jude," you sighed. "I've been by your side through everything, and all I'm asking for is a little understanding. I need space, I need to feel like my own person, not just an accessory to your life."

Jude stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. "So, what? You want me to quit football? Give up everything I've worked for?"

"No!" You stood up as well, your heart pounding. "I don't want you to give up anything. I just want you to see things from my perspective for once. I'm losing myself in all of this, and I feel like an accessory you just get to show off."

"Well, you know that's not true," his eyes softened for a moment, but then the frustration returned. "I thought we were a team. I thought we were in this together. But it feels like you're just... giving up."

"I'm not giving up," you said, your voice breaking. "It's hard for me too, like I'm just a pretty face with no dreams or aspirations. That's what they think-"

"Who cares what they think? I know you're more than that, everyone you care about knows that." Jude let out a huff as he glared at you.

"Well it's always just been about you, Jude," you didn't mean it to come out so harsh ─ your tone hard and cold. "Moving to Spain and-and all this, it's hard on me too."

That seemed to hit a nerve because Jude's eyes went wide before he scoffed. "You think this has been easy for me? You think moving to a different country, dealing with the pressure of a new team, and trying to keep us together is all about me?"

You flinched at his words, but your frustration was too strong to back down now. "That's not what I'm saying, Jude. I just want you to see that I'm struggling too. I left everything behind to be with you. My friends, my family, my life — everything."

Jude's face softened slightly, but his jaw was still tight with anger. "I need you to understand that this life comes with sacrifices. We both have to make them, this is what you signed up for."

"I know that, Jude," you said, tears welling up in your eyes as you sniffled. "But sometimes it feels like I'm the only one sacrificing. I feel like I'm losing myself, and I don't know how to fix it."

You wiped away a tear before continuing, averting your gaze from Jude. "I just need to feel like I'm more than just your girlfriend. I need to feel like I have my own purpose."

"You are!" Jude snapped, before sighing.

You sent him a glare as you sighed loudly, getting tired of not being heard. "Don't raise your voice!"

"You're being ungrateful, I've given you everything! A nice house, a nice car, you know how many girls would kill to be in your position?"

That was the last straw. Your mouth was slightly agape as you took in his words. Ungrateful? How could he say that after everything you've sacrificed to be with him?

"Fuck," you sighed as you looked up, meeting his gaze. "Is that how low you think of me? Fine, then. Let them have my position, since apparently, you think I'm just here for the perks," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of hurt and anger.

Jude's face fell, a mixture of regret and panic crossing his features. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just frustrated. I love you, and I want us to be happy."

You shook your head, taking a step back. "That's not enough, Jude. Love isn't just about the nice things or the glamorous life. It's about understanding each other. And right now, I don't feel understood."

"That's not what I meant," Jude sighed as he began rubbing his temple. "Jesus, I need some space from you."

You glared as he grabbed his keys from the counter and you watched him walk out of the room, feeling your stomach twist in anxiety and hurt. The sound of the door closing echoed in the silence, leaving you standing alone in the kitchen. Tears streamed down your face as you sank into a chair, feeling the weight of the argument pressing down on you.

You sat there for a while, trying to process everything that had just happened. The love you had for Jude was undeniable, but the constant feeling of being misunderstood was taking its toll. You needed to find a way to reclaim your sense of self, to feel heard in your relationship.

After a few moments, you wiped your tears and took a deep breath. You needed to do something, anything, to clear your mind. You decided to go for a walk, hoping the fresh air would help you think more clearly. Grabbing your jacket, you stepped outside and started walking aimlessly through the streets of the city.

As you walked, you reflected on your relationship with Jude. There had been so many beautiful moments, but lately, it seemed like the challenges were overshadowing the good times. You loved him deeply, but you needed to find a way to communicate better, to make him understand how you felt without it turning into a fight.

After a while, you headed back home, feeling a bit more centered. When you entered the apartment, you heard the TV and sighed. You took off your jacket and made your way to the living room, your gaze landing on Jude was too immersed in the show he was watch to realize you'd come home.

He finally met your gaze and instantly muted the TV, the tension palpable as you walked toward him.

"Hey," you whispered as he gave you a small smile.

He tapped to the spot next to him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitated for a moment before joining him on the couch, the silence between you heavy with tension.

"Hey," he said softly, his eyes filled with regret. "I've been thinking about what you said."

You nodded, your heart aching at the sight of his earnest expression. "Me too. I just... I need you to understand how hard this is for me."

Jude took a deep breath, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. "I know I've been incredibly fucking selfish, and I haven't been listening to you. I didn't realize how much you were sacrificing and how it was affecting you until now and... and I'm sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but this time they were tears of relief. "I appreciate that, Jude. I love you, but I need to find my own way, to have something that's mine."

He nodded, squeezing your hand. "Yeah, I get that. And I want to help you find that. We can work on this together, maybe you can look into things that interest you here, find something that makes you happy."

A small smile tugged at your lips. "I’d like that. And maybe we can set some boundaries with the media, try to keep our private life a bit more private."

"Yeah, absolutely," Jude agreed, his eyes shining with determination. "I'll talk to my manager and see what we can do about that. Your happiness is important to me... you are important to me."

You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling a sense of reassurance. "Thank you, Jude. I just want us to be happy together, without all the pressure and stress."

He kissed the top of your head, his arm wrapping around you protectively. "We will, I promise."

"I love you, a lot," Jude continued, his voice soft. "I didn't mean anything I said earlier, I was just angry. I don't know..." He trailed off, before pausing. "I don't know what I'd do with you, baby."

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his brown ones, and you could see the depth of his feelings for you. "I love you too, Jude," you whispered, your heart swelling with emotion.

As you cuddled together on the couch, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you, you felt a sense of peace.

"How about we start fresh tomorrow?" Jude suggested, his voice gentle. "We can spend the day together, just us. No media, no distractions. Just enjoying each other's company."

You nodded, feeling a wave of relief. "I'd love that. It sounds perfect."

He smiled, his eyes twinkling with affection. "Good. It's a date then."

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↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[flowerandblood]

The Taste of Desire (AU)

[ dom!modern • Aemond x friend sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex with soft domination, fingering, smut, angst, sexual tension, remorse, doubts related to sex work ]

[ description: Aemond works as a professional dom, fulfilling the various fantasies of his female clients − however, he guards his privacy and does not enter into any relationships with them, recognizing that he does not want or need it. One of his clients surprises him with her behaviour, making him experience something he has never felt before, with his own actions and emotions slipping out of his control. Sexual tension, doubts related to sex work. ]

This oneshot is an alternative universe for my series The Taste of Shame in which Aemond meets the main character as his client. It shows how their lives would have turned out and what their first time would have been like if Aemond had done it for money. Created to celebrate my anniversary on 22 March.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond NSFW Alphabet

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

My other series: Masterlist

_____

He was never picky when it came to his female clients. They had to meet basic standards like hygiene, no venereal diseases and they couldn't go beyond a certain time, but once they signed a confidentiality clause, what he was going to do with them was no longer important to him.

He kept repeating to himself that he was there for them, not them for him, so he focused on giving them what they wanted in a way that didn't disturb his comfort zone.

He did not allow them to kiss or touch him with their hands − in fact, he preferred that any involvement they had in what was happening was minimal. What he found most pleasing in the whole act was his violence towards them, and the more they consented to, the more he was satisfied.

Their pleas and cries of pain combined with some subconscious pleasure that such sadomasochism gave them made him struggle to hold back the mocking smile that pressed against his lips.

They wanted to be treated like worthless objects, and that's what he was giving them, because that's exactly how he thought of them.

He didn't try to delve into considering what he thought of himself, because he decided that would end up with a visit to a psychiatrist. He was studying quantum physics, lived far away from his family and needed a steady, high source of income − since silly girls could make money from sex cams, he could make money that way, at least until he had no other prospects.

The only way to contact him was through an online form on his website, where they would write why they wanted to meet, indicate what suited them or not, and if he felt he could meet their whims, he would arrange to meet them to discuss the details and sign the documents.

Scrolling through dozens of similar messages about tying, gagging, beating and humiliation he stopped on one where only a few things were marked. He thought surprised that he wouldn't even link them to aggressive domination per se, and certainly not the kind he usually used.

Good morning. I've been thinking a lot lately about what I'd like to try, but I'm also a bit embarrassed about it. I don't know if this can be subsumed under your interests − I'm completely inexperienced, so maybe that's why I'm looking for a professional who knows what he's doing and would be able to show me what I actually need and want. I apologise for the rather chaotic explanation and send my regards. Selected practices: spanking, verbal domination, fingering

He blinked and scratched his chin, both intrigued and uncertain at the same time − he glanced quickly at her age and saw that she was younger than him. He bit his lower lip feeling that something in the idea that she was still inexperienced and only willing to explore her needs attracted him, the thought that this would be some sort of challenge for him.

He decided that why not.

She was an adult.

He looked forward to meeting her with the utmost curiosity. Her requirements were basic enough that he didn't need to prepare any extra kinks, and since she didn't want sex with penetration, it also gave him a greater sense of confidence and peace of mind − he knew he wouldn't have to chase his orgasm, imagining some woman from porn, and would be able to concentrate only on what he was doing to her.

When he heard a quiet knock on the door of the flat he rented only to meet his female clients, he got up immediately from behind his desk and opened it for her, swallowing hard as his gaze involuntarily swept over her figure and stopped on her face.

God.

This was not what he had expected.

She looked even younger than she had written; her eyes were big and bright, looking at him with fear and dread, though usually the women who came to him, learned by experience, kept their gaze meekly on the floor, waiting for him to command them to look at himself.

She was dressed in a plain white Tshirt and high-waisted jeans, a fabric coloured backpack on her back, her hair loose, shiny, dark, slightly wavy − he could smell the fruity scent of her perfume or shower gel.

He grunted quietly, trying to keep a stony face, feeling that involuntarily his gaze expressed shock. He took a few steps back and invited her in − she stepped inside uncertainly, turning away quickly as he closed the door behind her.

"Come in. Do not be afraid." He said lowly, pointing to his desk which stood in the deeper part of the flat − she walked in that direction, looking in horror at the bed standing on the other side of the room.

He heard her swallow hard, tense and red, pulling her backpack off her back − she placed it in her lap immediately after she sat down in the chair opposite him, as if trying to ward off and protect herself from him in this way.

He took his seat on the other side and tapped his index finger on the top of his wooden oak desk, thinking that he had never had a client like her before.

She was completely distracted, her gaze sweeping across the room as if she were a curious child, her fingers tightening on the material of her rucksack.

"As I mentioned, first the contract and confidentiality clause." He said calmly, handing her copies of the contract and clause he had sent her earlier.

She took them from him and looked into his eyes again, making him swallow hard; it wasn't a defiant look and it wasn't meant to seduce him. It seemed to him just the opposite − she wanted to show him that some part of her was genuinely afraid of him.

She nodded, her hands trembling all over as she took the sheets of paper in her hands − she looked around quickly and clumsily grabbed a pen.

He wondered, seeing what was happening to her, if what she wanted was really good for her and although he never meddled in his clients' decisions, he decided to intervene, for her sake and his own.

"You can still resign. I won't burden you with the cost." He said lowly, watching her closely, and saw that she flinched all over. She lifted the gaze of her bright eyes to him, her eyebrows arched in indecision, her mouth opened and closed as if she was trying to get something out of herself.

"I…I think I want to try. This one time. Do you think it's a bad idea, sir?" She asked him in a trembling, soft, girlish voice. The note of innocence that lurked in this after all defiant question made him twist in his seat, feeling surprised that his manhood swelled a little − he felt like he was literally burning her with his gaze.

He thought it was because she was so vulnerable − it turned him on that he was more experienced than her and had real control over what could happen next if she wanted it.

He chuckled involuntarily at her words, shaking his head, sighing quietly, looking at her indulgently.

"What I think about it doesn't matter." He murmured lowly, leaning comfortably against the back of his chair with a loud creak of wood.

He felt heat in his lower abdomen at the thought of her not dropping her gaze, boldly staring him in the face as if they had known each other for a long time, despite the fact that most women knew their buttocks would be red and swollen like tomatoes for such insolence.

"I would, however, like to hear your views on the matter, sir." She replied quickly, as if she recognised him as some sort of authority on the matter, a sexologist or anyone else who could give her a diagnosis.

"I am not a doctor. However, I don't think there is anything wrong with trying under controlled conditions. You also have a safe word that you can use at any time to stop whatever I'm doing. You have to decide." He said finally, and saw her nod her head, drawing in air loudly as if gathering her courage, and leaned over, signing the documents in the spaces indicated.

For some reason he involuntarily licked his lips, dried from some kind of excitement, his cock twitching hard in his trousers at the thought that she was really going to do this.

When she finished he took the papers from her, signed them and gave her one copy, reminding her of all the rules they had agreed and what she could not do.

"You can't touch me or kiss me. When we start, you are to call me sir and follow all my instructions. You are to answer all my questions by shaking or nodding your head unless I order you otherwise. I will not stop even if you beg me or cry until I hear your safe word which, please remind us, sounds how?" He asked softly, stapling the papers she had signed with a stapler, tucking them into his drawer, watching her out of the corner of his eye, feeling the heat in his lower abdomen at the very thought of what he was going to do to her.

Why was he so aroused when he hadn't even touched her yet?

"Peach." She muttered embarrassedly, looking down at her hands.

For a moment he wondered if he should add the rule he usually made where a woman couldn't look him in the eye, but something in her eyes captured him − her gaze wasn't seductive or filled with feelings he didn't want to see. He also guessed that forbidding it might overwhelm her even more, and he didn't want that.

He nodded at her words, rising, and she rose with him, holding her backpack in front of her, her shoulders raised slightly in a defensive gesture, as if she was afraid of him and the fact that she had somehow given him control over her.

He approached her slowly, looking at her vigilantly − her eyes fixed on his face as his hand took the rucksack from her arms in a gentle motion, dropping it next to her on the floor. His fingers rose to her cheeks, trailing over them, her jaw and her chin − he felt her tremble all over, surprised, her swollen, plump lips red with emotion.

Although he had never done this, he wanted to get a good look at her first − he knew that going straight to putting his hand in her panties would only frighten her and in this situation his tactics had to be a tad different.

First and foremost, he wanted to reassure her.

He saw that she had closed her eyes, trying to breathe slowly through her mouth as his hands slid down to her neck and her soft hair. He thought, smelling her fruity scent, that he would have given anything to have her kneel before him and take his achingly hard manhood into her mouth.

He decided that perhaps he would use his thoughts to embolden her a little more and let him do what he wanted.

"Such a sweet girl. You have no idea what I'd like to do with those lips." He hummed, feeling a shiver pass through her as one of his hands rose higher again, to her face, parting her lips with his thumb. "How hard I am now."

He saw the shock in her gaze, which quickly escaped down to the bulge in his trousers, her cheeks flushed as she looked up into his face again, her breathing quickened and ragged.

He sighed involuntarily at the sight.

"You can say a lot of things about me, but not that I'm a liar. Open." He commanded in a slightly cooler, stricter tone, her lips immediately parted slightly, allowing his thumb to slide deep between her fleshy, wet lips.

"Suck." He instructed, a quiet moan caught in her throat, her body suddenly quivering as the fingers of his free hand slid lower to her breast, teasing her nipple in calm, circular motions, her lips tightening around his thumb, obeying his command.

"Do you always walk around without a bra? Hm? Do you like it when men look at them?" He muttered warningly, pulling lightly on her nipple, looking at her curiously − she squirmed helplessly, closing her eyes, not knowing what to do with her hands. He could see how, in some subconscious reflex, she wanted to lift them up and embrace him, but reminded herself that she couldn't do that and lowered them again, moving him in some way and arousing him at the same time.

He couldn't remember if his client had ever made him completely hard by her behaviour itself.

"Quiet. We haven't even started properly yet, and already you want me to slap your arse?" He growled mockingly, and she shook her head quickly, drawing in air loudly, looking at him with a pleading look of her big, bright eyes, which he felt between his thighs as his cock swelled unbearably, demanding attention.

"This is my last warning. Lie on your stomach." He said coldly, although inside he felt like his body was on fire.

She obediently pulled off her shoes and lay down on the bed, watching, embarrassed, as he slipped his thumb, moist with her saliva, between his lips and licked it. He quickly pulled off his sweatshirt and shoes, leaving in his black short-sleeved T-shirt and trousers, fixing his hair with a careless flick of his hand.

"Leave only your panties on." He added, hearing her quiet squeal as his large hand gave her one, light, sharp smack on her buttock, just as an encouragement to keep her going.

"Just like that. So pretty." He hummed, watching her undress, climbing onto the bed behind her. He involuntarily licked his lips and grinned in amusement when he saw that underneath her trousers she was wearing pretty lace panties in powder pink.

He thought she was like a lollipop or candy, a sweet little gift bought just for pure pleasure.

As she pulled off her t-shirt she clung with her breasts to the bedclothes, looking somewhere sideways towards the window as if she was afraid of how exposed she was, that she was lying half-naked in front of a strange man who, on top of that, she was going to have to pay for it.

Although he cursed himself for it in the back of his head, the sincerity and naturalness of her behaviour endeared her to him − he thought in disbelief that he wasn't sure that even if she had asked him to punish her more harshly or to cause her intense pain he would have been able to do it.

Would it give him pleasure.

He took her hair aside, exposing her long neck and back, felt her shudder all over as his fingers ran along her spine.

"Are you going to be good, or should I tie you up?" He murmured and she nodded quickly − he hummed under his breath, stroking her bare skin. "Use your words."

"I'll be good. Sir." She added quickly, hearing him shift suddenly in irritation. He let out a loud breath through his nose, leaning down, grasping her wrists in his hands, placing them on either side of her head, showing her the position he expected her to hold them in.

"Your hands are supposed to be here at all times. On the pillow. If I see you take them away from here, I'll tie you up and on top of that, I'll give you ten slaps on the bottom to make sure you remember this lesson well. Do you understand? Use your words." He hissed, driving his fingers into the skin of her wrists, heard her swallow hard and nod her head quickly.

"− y-yes, sir −"

He gasped softly, pleased with her answer and the way it was going − he saw her hands tighten on the material of the pillow as he settled his knees on either side of her buttocks, lowering himself onto them so that she could feel his cock throbbing all under the material of his trousers. She stifled the cry that wanted to escape her lips by pressing her face against his bedding.

"− do you fucking feel it? − do you feel what you're doing to me? −" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, not knowing why instead of pulling himself together and concentrating on his task he was teasing her, making his manhood painfully hard − he clamped his eyelids shut when he felt her hips begin to buck uncertainly to the rhythm of his movements.

He decided that fuck it, he would do it the way he felt like it, breaking his own rules, knowing that unlike the other women, she really needed this.

His closeness.

She sighed loudly and her whole body trembled as he pressed his face against her soft, fragrant hair, crushing her with his own weight, his hands roamed over the skin of her bare shoulders and the sides of her waist as his nose slowly slid lower, down to her neck, his fingers slipped underneath her and tightened on her soft, plump breasts as his lips pressed against her bare skin.

He heard her start to pant loudly through her mouth, surprised as he was, surely imagining it differently, writhing beneath him, his fingers digging warningly into the soft skin of her breasts, his hot breath enveloping her ear.

"− lie still or we'll do it rough − spread your thighs −" He growled, his thumbs pressing and playing with her nipples. He spread her legs with his knees, making her breath catch in her throat − he could feel her heart pounding fast under his hands, his tongue ran over the bare skin of her neck, smelling the salty taste of her sweat and the sweet taste of her perfume.

"− you're already wet, hm? − shall we check? −" He sneered, sliding the palms of his one hand down her belly − he saw out of the corner of his eye that her fingers clenched tightly on the fabric of the pillow, her whole body stiffened, her head tilted slightly as his fingertips pushed the soft, soaked material of her underwear aside, sinking into her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

"− good God − look at you − all sticky and warm −" He gasped as his fingers began to tease and squeeze her clit lightly, giving her a few encouraging strokes from which helpless, muffled sounds tried to escape her throat − his hand let go of her breasts for a moment and slapped her buttock with all his might, reminding her that she was supposed to be quiet.

He didn't even notice when he started rubbing against her faster from the top, chasing his own fulfilment, completely aroused by what was happening to her, how she was responding to him.

He felt like his cock was about to explode.

"− moan for me − let me hear these sweet sounds −" He whispered in her ear, driving his fingers harder into the soft, leaking structure of her folds.

Moan for me?

What the fuck was that supposed to be?

He sighed when she cried out loudly, clenching her eyes, writhing all under him, again and again rubbing his sore cock with her buttocks. He felt ashamed that even though he was the master of the situation, it seemed to him that somehow it was she who was dictating how it looked, or rather his inability to treat her as he did his other clients.

There was something innocent about her, that her goal was not for him to humiliate her, beat her or hurt her, but for him to guide her, to show her what she really desired and what he could do with her body.

He thought, running his fingertips over her moist, hot slit, that perhaps this was what he had been craving deep inside himself all this time.

"− ah − please, sir −" She mewled helplessly, and he felt her words between his thighs. He licked his lips, trailing his fingers over her throbbing, weeping cunt, teasing her hard nipple with his other hand, each of his movements accompanied by the loud click of her moisture.

"− what are you asking me to do? − use your words −" He exhaled, feeling that he was embarrassingly close to climax himself, and wondered if he was going to cum in his own trousers for the first time in his life.

"− please − please, put it inside me −" She mumbled out and he swallowed hard feeling her buttocks rubbing against his cock.

He froze for a moment, running his fingers over her hot, leaking folds, fighting with himself, on the one hand wanting only this, on the other the contract was different and he never broke the terms he himself had agreed to and signed.

What if, afterwards, she found that she didn't want it and decided that he had raped her, go to the police with it?

This thought sobered his mind a little, though his whole body shuddered with disappointment, his two fingers suddenly forced their way inside her with her moan of pleasure.

"− I can't − you know I can't, don't you? −" He breathed out, pressing the tips of his fingertips into the fleshy structure of her muscles, searching for the spot hidden between them.

She shuddered all over when he felt it a moment later, his thumb trailing over her clit as his two fingers dug in between her slick folds with a loud click of her wetness − he felt her whole body tense in anticipation, again and again his fingers squeezed her the way she needed it.

"− I'll be good, sir − please − please − please − I'll be good −" She cried out, her sticky walls began to clench around his fingers, sucking them inside and he closed his eyes, imagining he felt it on his hard, aching cock.

How tight she was.

He'd never done this before and he knew he shouldn't, but for some reason he was desperate, his mind clouded by what he'd seen and what he needed.

He watched her face in disbelief, her eyes closed, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her lips parted sweetly in a loud, accelerated breath.

"We can do this, but on my terms. I'll just fuck you, nothing more. No money. Do you understand?" He asked her in a trembling voice, as if he wanted to make sure she understood, that it meant nothing to him, that she just turned him on too much and he wanted to take it out on her.

He saw her eyes open suddenly, fear and relief filling her gaze as she whispered just a few words without looking at him.

"Let me look at your face, sir."

He himself didn't know when he suddenly flipped her onto her back as his lips clung with a loud purr to her hard, swollen nipple, sucking and licking it − he heard her moan loudly, startled, making him lose his temper. His hands in a helpless reflex slid down to the button of his trousers and his zipper, releasing his erection quickly, he wasn't sure he had ever been so terrified and aroused at the same time.

He knew things had gotten out of hand and that he would regret it, but he couldn't deny himself, knowing that he would probably never see her again.

"Don't touch me. Do you understand? If you touch me, I'll stop and I'll slap your arse so hard you won't be able to sit for the next few weeks." He hissed, looking her straight in the face, reaching his hand into his pocket to pull out the condom −she merely nodded, her hands clenched on either side of her face, her swollen lips parted in a quick, uneven breath.

He looked at her pretty figure, her sweet, plump breasts, her flushed face, her hair in disarray, and thought helplessly that she was beautiful and that he would go mad if he didn't do this to her.

Never before had he put a condom over his length as quickly as he did then − with a quick, sure, impatient movement he slid her panties off her, already all wet with her moisture, grabbed her by her hips and pushed her closer, momentarily forcing her tight, leaking folds to let him inside her.

He didn't speak, because he didn't know what he was supposed to say either, ashamed of his own desperation as he pushed deeper into her with a sure, sharp thrust.

He began to pound into her as if he had completely lost his mind, fast and out of control − she threw her head to the side, writhing beneath him, moaning loudly, her walls wonderfully moist and hot, clenching on him so tightly that he struggled to restrain himself from cumming just yet, not wanting to humiliate himself.

"− oh God −" He muttered, looking at her as if through a fog, leaning over her, his hands found hers, her fingers clenched on them, seeking proximity − she looked up at him pleadingly, panting and quivering.

He suspected that never before had anyone fucked her at such a brutal, fast pace from which she couldn't catch her breath, her thighs spread wide before him in a gesture of trust, their bodies slapping against each other with the loud clicks of her wetness.

"− these idiots couldn't even fuck you properly, hm? −" He panted low and she only nodded, his fingers intertwining with hers in some subconscious reflex, as if he wanted to show her that he understood her, that she had a right to be disappointed, that he had no idea how any man could fail to give her what she needed.

"− my poor little baby − am I right? −" He breathed out and she cried loudly and nodded her head, something in her gaze, in her eyes flooded with tears, filled with despair, tenderness and relief made him lean lower and cling to her lips.

She moaned loudly into his throat and he felt her walls squeeze him tightly with a sudden, intense orgasm, sucking him inside as his tongue invaded between her lips. She reciprocated his kiss with such devotion that a few of his helpless, sloppy thrusts were enough to make him cum into the condon.

"− fuck − fuck, baby −" He breathed out into her mouth as if she was his, as if they were in his bed in his flat, as if he loved her and was about to have dinner with her or go to sleep lying next to her, as if she wasn't a stranger to him, her sweet scent, her innocent sounds and the taste of her mouth were all that filled his mind as he continued to rock his hips deep inside her.

Even though they had both came, they didn't stop kissing, their lips joining and pulling away from each other lazily with a loud click of their saliva, his hands roaming up and down her fingers, alternately stroking them and entwining them with his own again.

Something about what was happening between them, about this sudden, unexpected closeness calmed him and made him completely drift off.

He knew that she had wanted to touch and kiss him from the very beginning, but she still respected his decision and his rules.

And he, for some reason incomprehensible to himself, broke them for her.

He pressed his face to her cheek, panting along with her, unsure of what he should do now, distracted and ashamed that he couldn't help himself, that for the first time in his life he had overstepped the time and competence he should have given her.

And that wasn't good.

What if she thinks now that they are in love with each other, that maybe one day they will be together? If she starts writing to him and stalking him like so many women before her?

"I'm sorry." He heard her whisper and shuddered, snapped out of his reverie.

He opened his eyes and met her gaze, her hands still on either side of her head. He grunted quietly, horrified at how close she was, that he could smell her pleasant scent so intensely, her breath, the warmth of her body.

"I'm the one who should apologise. I behaved unprofessionally. I won't take money from you." He replied after a moment, and she shook her head, shocked.

"− n-no, why − I mean − after all, you did what we agreed to do − you gave me your time, I −"

"− you're not the kind of person who would enjoy a strong dominant-submissive interaction − you'd be terrified − you're worrying too much − probably those guys before me didn't ask you what you needed, hm? − that's what I thought − there's nothing wrong with you − that's my diagnosis −" He hummed, sighing heavily, lifting himself up on his elbows, placing a lingering, tender kiss on her forehead.

He slipped out of her gently with her quiet hiss of discomfort − he saw her press her lips together when he slided the shed condom off his manhood and tie it off, tossing it into the small bin standing next to his bed, zipping his trousers back up. He saw her reach with a trembling hand for her underwear and sighed under his breath, shaking his head.

"Wipe yourself well first, the tissues are lying on the table next to you. Don't you have underwear to change into?" He asked uncertainly, realising that this was usually obvious to the women who visited him, as it was to him, so he didn't warn her, thinking she would figure it out for herself.

She shook her head quickly and he sighed heavily, taking a bottle of water standing on the table, unscrewing it and handing it to her, seeing that she completely didn't know what she should do with herself now.

"− drink − you'd better just wipe yourself off and put your trousers on −" He replied and she nodded, red with embarrassment, taking a few deep sips of water without looking at him.

He turned away as she started to get dressed, running his hand over his face, recognising that he was an idiot and had completely lost his fucking mind, unable to forgive himself for fucking her even though their terms were different.

He shuddered as she approached him quietly − he thought terrified that she was going to try to touch him, maybe even thinking they were going to become lovers now, but she just held a bundle of banknotes in front of him, looking at him pleadingly.

"− I already told you I won't take it − keep it −"

"− I can't, after all −"

"− don't piss me off −" He growled, and she pressed her lips together, lowering her hand, swallowing loudly.

They stared at each other for a long moment in awkward silence to say the least − he grunted, combing his fingers through his hair, feeling that for some reason his heart was pounding like crazy.

What was happening to him?

"− consider it a gift − we both made each other feel good − right? −" He asked, as if he wanted to make sure he hadn't hurt her. She nodded and smiled softly, shyly, for some reason making him feel a squeeze in his throat.

He regretted that she had ever written to him.

He regretted that he had said yes.

He regretted that it had been so pleasant.

"− thank you − and I apologise again − I won't take up your time anymore − I wish you all the best − please take care of yourself and be happy −" She said finally, and he flinched, looking at her in disbelief − he felt that his lips were parted in shock as he looked at her dully.

He didn't know what to answer.

Only after a while did he get anything out of himself, feeling that she was due at least some perfunctory response.

"− it's me who's sorry − I also wish you all the best −"

She nodded and smiled warmly at him, before her trembling hand reached for her backpack and headed towards the door, opening it and disappearing behind it a moment later.

He looked at the bed, at the sheets where the mark of her body was clearly visible, the fact that she had just been lying there, that he had been deep inside her and had fucked her like he had never put his cock inside any woman before.

He went over there and just lay on his stomach, sinking his face into the pillow that was drenched in her scent.

For the next few days, his head was in a state of chaos − one part of him was afraid that she would reach out to him, that she would seek contact or a relationship with him, like so many women before her wanting to be special to him, to be the only one.

The other part of him was even begging for her to do it, for him to be able to free himself at last from the memories of what he had done to her, that she had broken something in him, that he couldn't look at the women who came after her.

He couldn't focus, he felt remorse, he couldn't even get aroused and he was so frustrated that, to the despair of his regular clients, he decided to take a break for a few weeks to cool down.

His friend from university, Robert, had already invited him to his birthday party a month earlier and although he didn't have the energy to go anywhere, he knew that afterwards he would be listening to him and Criston moan in class about how completely unsocial he was.

He figured that since it was only going to be a private party at his house, he might as well go there at least for a while so no one would accuse him of lack of effort.

When he stopped outside his house he got out of the car and decided to have a quick cigarette, tired and discouraged, knowing that sooner or later his savings would run out and he would have to go back to it, whether he wanted to or not.

Or find another, lower-paid job.

He sighed heavily, clamping his fingers over the base of his nose, closing his eyes, trying to calm himself. He heard movement beside him and the screech of brakes, lifted his gaze and froze when it became apparent that she had just sat down beside him from her bike, a wide smile on her lips as if she thought he was a stranger, only recognising him after a moment, her lips parted then in horror, panic in her gaze.

He stared at her, feeling his body freeze.

Fuck.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Oh God. Do you know Robert?" She muttered, and he swallowed hard, feeling a tightening in his throat at the thought that she could have been his friend's girlfriend.

"Yes. Fuck. And you?" He asked her quickly with some sort of accusation, from which she swallowed hard.

"I-I, I'm his younger sister. I went to get some candles, I didn't know…"

"It's okay. I'll just go home." He replied, taking a few quick puffs of his cigarette, crushing it with his foot, turning back towards his car.

"N-no, please. Are you Aemond? Did I guess right? Robert was telling me about you. How he's glad you're coming. That you rarely talk or go out somewhere as a threesome with Criston. It's good that we met here, we'll avoid an awkward greeting. Please, don't be embarrassed." She muttered, and he sighed heavily, running his hand over his face, heartbroken. They both shuddered when they heard a knock on the glass, Robert looked at them through the window and started waving at them, gleeful.

Jesus Christ.

They both headed towards her house, knowing that since he'd seen him, he couldn't run away anymore anyway. He was terrified that since she was Robert's sister, she was someone familiar, not a stranger, that this changed everything and nothing, his heart pounding like mad.

"Do you have a lighter?" She asked as they stopped in front of the front door and he shook his head, snapped out of his reverie, frowning his brow.

"What?"

"Do you have a lighter? Can you help me? I need to light the candles on his birthday cake." She muttered in a whisper as if someone might overhear them, and she was telling him an important secret. He sighed heavily and nodded, recognising that he must have been dreaming all this.

Robert greeted him with joy, all around them Criston, their family and a few of his high school friends, a whole group of people he didn't know and with whom he knew he wouldn't find common ground, and among them her.

He wished him well and gave him his present, but he was unable to focus − he met her terrified gaze, she was pointing her finger at him that she needed his help in the kitchen.

He followed her as if into the lion's mouth, watching from the side as she opened the fridge in the darkness, taking out a blueberry meringue. She sighed heavily, placing it on the table in front of him, only the lights of the street lamps around them.

"It looked better in the picture on the internet, but I did my best." She mumbled, as if she wanted to say anything that would lighten the atmosphere between them.

He felt like an idiot when their trembling hands touched as he handed her the lighter and swallowed loudly, watching as one by one the candles began to glow with the warm, bright light of the flame.

He wanted to ask her if something in her life had changed, if she now knew what she wanted and needed, if she thought about what had happened.

Was she thinking about him.

She picked up the cake when it was all ready and let the air out loud through her mouth, looking him straight in the eye.

"Let's go."

After singing a short 'Happy Birthday', Robert blew out all the candles, happy to announce that his little sister had remembered what cake he loved best, assuring everyone that it was certainly delicious.

They spent the whole party throwing surreptitious, embarrassed glances at each other − he had to empty a few glasses of strong Whisky to calm himself down, the alcohol relaxing him a little, though only seemingly, suppressing his fear, but making him start thinking about something else again.

He looked at her figure dressed in a modest mid-thigh summer dress, her hair, her face − saw the way she laughed, the way she talked to others and felt a squeeze in his throat at the thought that then, being with him, she wasn't pretending.

She really was like that.

Affectionate, open, sweet, kind.

Everything he wasn't.

He swallowed heavily at the thought, sad and embittered, taking another deep sip from his glass.

"How are you going to get home? Criston is staying the night at our house, why don't you stay too? It's late." Said Robert sitting down next to him on the couch, patting him on the back in a friendly manner, already himself relaxed by the considerable amount of alcohol his body had assimilated.

He swallowed hard, looking at his sister from afar, feeling that this was a very bad idea.

"Why not." He muttered, thinking that he was a moron for looking for trouble himself, and that if Robert found out what he'd done to his sister, he'd kill him with his own hands.

Criston and a few others occupied the upstairs rooms, and he suggested he could sleep in the living room on the couch, to which Robert agreed.

He hoped this would embolden her to come to him, as he himself would never have dared to knock on her door despite how desperate he was.

At the thought that he might feel her again, his manhood reacted with an enthusiastic, intense pulsing in his trousers.

He felt that he was drunk as he began to pull off his black tight turtleneck, managing it with difficulty, pulling off his shoes, laying down dressed only in Tshirt and trousers with a quiet sigh and covered himself carelessly with the blanket, listening.

Is she going to do it or not?

And even if she comes to him, should he agree?

He felt disappointment when an hour passed and nothing happened, silence all around him and the loud snoring of someone coming from the upstairs rooms, perhaps her and Robert's father. He sighed heavily, recognising that he had made it all up, that she was surely now ashamed of him and what she had done, trying to forget it.

He swallowed hard at the thought, feeling discomfort in his stomach, and closed his eyes, figuring he would try to get at least a few hours of sleep.

He shuddered and opened them again when he heard a quiet creak, as if someone was walking down the corridor above him, but he wasn't sure himself if it wasn't just his imagination. A shiver ran down his spine and his manhood swelled all over when he heard someone quietly walk down the steps.

Whoever this person was, however, she didn't approach him but walked through the living room to the kitchen.

He felt his heart start pounding like crazy when he caught sight of her silhouette in the darkness, dressed only in an oversized white Tshirt and light shorts − she walked over to the tap, took a glass from the drawer and poured herself some water.

Should he approach her or not?

What if she gets scared?

Fuck.

He didn't even know when he just picked himself up on the couch, for some reason doing it very slowly so that his movements couldn't be heard − he felt like a predator who wanted to get closer to his prey even though he didn't really intend to harm her.

As soon as he stood up he immediately felt the room around him spin, the pleasant, intoxicating warmth of the alcohol melting through his lower abdomen making him seem less terrified of what he wanted to do than if he had been completely sober.

When she caught sight of his silhouette out of the corner of her eye she almost choked on the water − she spat some of it into the sink coughing loudly, making him freeze motionless, afraid to approach her. She quickly wiped her mouth with her hand, looking at him with big eyes.

"My God, you scared me." She muttered pale, her pretty, smooth face illuminated by the warm light of the street lamps standing in front of her house.

He stared at her for a moment, thinking that perhaps it must all have been a dream after all, that the fact that she was standing in front of him was unreal, invented by his distraught, drunken mind.

"I'm sorry." He stammered, swallowing hard, standing a good distance away from her, fighting with himself not to look shamelessly at her bare legs and her nipples peeking through from under her T-shirt.

Again.

They stood for a moment in uncomfortable silence, both of them breathing embarrassingly loudly, as if each of them was reliving deep inside themselves the fact that they were seeing each other again.

And on top of that, in her brother's house.

"I didn't know you were his sister. I swear. I would never do that to you." He finally started to speak, to explain, although he didn't know why − he had the feeling that he was trying to get anything out of himself so she didn't go back upstairs to her room.

He heard her sigh quietly, stroking her bare shoulder with her trembling hand. She shifted from foot to foot in a nervous gesture, looking somewhere to the side, her lips parted slightly in an accelerated breath.

"I know." She whispered, and he felt a heat in his lower abdomen and a pleasant shudder at the thought that perhaps she wasn't misjudging him, that perhaps she wasn't disgusted by him at all.

"How do you feel? I mean − are you okay?" She asked in a trembling voice, as if she wasn't sure if she should be asking this kind of question. She glanced at him uncertainly, clearly wanting to check his reaction, he stared at her stunned, completely surprised by her question.

"− I… yeah, I guess − I mean, I'm on a break from − you know − from this − right now −" He muttered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his black trousers, looking at the floor, feeling ashamed and embarrassed for some reason.

It's because of you, he wanted to say.

I did it for you.

"Something happened?" She asked after a moment, playing with the fingers of her hands in a nervous reflex, as if she was afraid of what she would hear.

"− yes − I mean − I have doubts − I always had, but now… they've intensified − you know −" He muttered, shrugging his shoulders, feeling the tightness in his throat and stomach growing stronger, his heart pounding like mad, cold sweat running down his back.

I'm just a whore, he thought.

I sell myself for money.

She nodded her head quickly so he knew she understood.

"− I'm sorry −" She said quietly, and he looked at her dully, not knowing why for some reason his lower lip trembled, why he felt a burning sensation under his eyelids.

He was ashamed that he desired her so much, that he wanted her words but also her body, wanted to fuck her first and then embrace her and fall asleep.

Was he treating her objectively? Was he only able to think about one thing?

Sex, sex, sex, sex.

He couldn't get anything out of himself.

He shuddered, drawing in air loudly as she came closer to him, in her gaze genuine fear and worry at his condition, questioning whether she could do anything for him, help him in any way.

He knew she longed to touch him − he saw out of the corner of his eye her hand rising to touch his shoulder but falling back after a moment, reminding himself that he never allowed anyone to invade his space.

He felt like screaming.

"− do you want to talk about it? −"

He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to anyone about it, but after a while he was sitting next to her on the terrace anyway, covered in a thick, soft blanket, sitting next to her on a rather uncomfortable wooden bench hanging by chains, which he rocked back and forth with involuntary movements of his knees, lighting a cigarette from his lighter with a quiet hiss of fire.

He took a drag and let the smoke out loudly through his nose, sighing quietly, just thinking about the fact that their hips and shoulders were touching.

"What did you think of me? After all this." He asked suddenly, swallowing loudly as he heard her twist in her place, throwing him a surprised, even horrified look. She sighed quietly, covering herself more tightly with the fluffy material.

"That you are a good man."

He felt his hand with the cigarette freeze in mid-motion as he was about to take another drag and for some reason he laughed in disbelief at her words, feeling a piercing pain in his chest, his eyebrows arching in amusement.

"That I'm a good man. Good God." He hummed, taking another drag − he could see she was looking down at her fingers, ashamed of her words and his cruel reaction. He licked his lower lip with his tongue and closed his eyes, feeling that he was completely hard.

He could smell her, she was still using that fruity, pleasant, fresh perfume.

"You're a romantic, innocent soul, aren't you?" He sneered, letting the smoke out again through his nose with a loud sigh − he heard her cough quietly as the smell of tobacco rose into her lungs. She grunted quietly, her lips tightened in displeasure.

"Innocent souls come to a strange man to spank them for money?"

"You didn't want me to spank you. You haven't experienced even a hint of real, hard domination, sweet girl." He snarled, spreading himself out comfortably on the back of the bench with a loud creak of wood, the metal chains squeaking quietly each time he made another movement with his foot, putting the structure in motion.

"So why did you agree to this?" She asked finally, and he fell silent, staring blankly ahead, taking one last drag on what was left of his cigarette.

"Good question."

They both fell silent again, feeling that their conversation was starting to get out of hand, and after all, someone could have woken up, opened the window, overheard their words.

"Did you tell Robert?" He asked suddenly, and she shook her head, horrified.

"N-no, of course not. And I won't. This is between you two. He respects you very much." She muttered, lowering her gaze to her bent knees, which she held under her chin. He hummed at her statement, accepting her words with some sort of relief.

"Did that help you? Now you know what you need?" He asked impassively, letting the smoke out loudly through his mouth, dropping the remnants of his cigarette into the glass with the unfinished drink, feeling her gaze on him, her body tense, he knew she had hesitated.

"In a way." She replied, and he dared to look her straight in the eye.

She didn't lower her gaze even though he knew some part of her wanted to do so, her lips parted slightly when she noticed his hands had slipped under the blanket, into his trousers. She swallowed loudly when she heard the sound of his zipper being undone and the fabric being unfastened.

"Come here. Sit on my lap." He ordered softly, and she did so without hesitation, as if she had only been waiting for those words, something in her confidence, in her assurance, in her desire, in her hot gaze made his breath stand in his throat.

They said nothing as he slipped her shorts off her, as he lowered his trousers, finally releasing his aching, swollen erection, already leaking from his precum. He didn't protest when her hands tentatively embraced his neck, barely touching him, merely catching her balance, his free hand covering their hips with a blanket.

"I'm clean. I had myself tested a few weeks ago, after I'd already taken a break." He whispered, feeling his cock throb aggressively in his hand at the thought that he could come deep inside her if she would just let him. She nodded her head in understanding, one movement of his hand between her thighs reassuring him that no further treatment would be necessary.

"Have you been this wet all evening? Hm? Have you suffered as much as I have?" He gasped, directing the pink, fat head of his manhood at her swollen slit. She nodded again, her lips parted in disbelief and delight, her eyes closed as she felt him begin to push inside her,his thumbs spreading her folds to the sides, watching with a rapidly beating heart as he slowly opened her wide on his cock.

"− fuck − fuck, tell me you're taking your pills −" He breathed out, tilting his head back, with one sure thrust of his hips filling her tight, leaking cunt to the brim. She squirmed quietly as he began to move inside her immediately, pounding into her with deep, sure stabs, rubbing each time the spot inside her from where she could see stars.

"− y-yes −" She mumbled out, rising and falling on his thick, aching manhood, giving him a wonderful squeeze each time, from which he sank his fingers deeper into her soft buttocks, forcing her into a fast, sharp rhythm in which he hardly slid out of her, panting and grunting louder than usual, thinking only of how wonderfully warm she was, that he could feel her moist, fleshy walls with his whole being with each sure thrust.

"− kiss me −" He exhaled and groaned loudly into her mouth as her lips instantly clung to his in a sloppy, sticky dance, his tongue invading deep into her throat, a shudder went through him as one of her hands combed through his hair.

"− m sorry −" She mumbled, immediately lowering her hand, but he put his one arm around her waist and pressed her closer to him, deepening the kiss with a loud purr of satisfaction, feeling wonderful, the alcohol had given him courage, and her touch was sweet and tender, not making him feel cornered.

"− it's okay − touch my face −" He sighed out between loud, wet licks of their swollen lips, quickening his pace as her hands gripped his cheeks, as her forehead pressed against his. Her walls began to clench on him with increasing intensity, making him lose his temper, not letting her escape the brutal thrusts of his hips.

"− oh, God − fuck, where −" He only mumbled, feeling that it was about to be too late.

"− please, inside me − ah −" She mewled so sweetly that he sighed loudly, surprised to feel his muscles relax, his semen spilling deep inside her without his willpower as her walls began to suck him and squeeze him in orgasm.

They both panted loudly, rocking their hips for a while longer, pulsing and shuddering, stroking each other's faces, looking at each other with their lips slightly parted, breathing heavily.

"− shall we go out somewhere tomorrow? − you know − to the pub or something? −" He muttered embarrassed that he had wanted something more, that he broke his own rule.

He was relieved when she giggled and smiled, nodding, only to lean in a moment later and kiss him in a drawn-out manner with her soft, puffy lips. He murmured contentedly, stroking her warm, bare buttocks with lazy movements, reciprocating her caress with a loud click of their saliva.

She pulled away from him at last, her hand combing slowly through his short hair making a pleasant shiver run along his spine.

"− why not −"

[mbsneur]

I want to show you something

Alessia Russo x Williamson!reader

Summary: Your big sister wins the European Championships and you think you can celebrate normally

Warnings: Fluff,angst?,maybe bad writing

My Masterlist

please read this text before going to the story

(it's probably poorly written it's not my best and it has a weird ending and it‘s a really short one)

request is from @gpcwsl

please don't be so strict with me but rather write to me what I can do better or what you wished were different. also tell me if you find the story too long or too short.. Also write to me if you liked it. My requests are always open (and English is not my first language so don't be mad at me) and if you have any ideas for the future about who I should write please tell me… the topics I will choose by myself unless you have a request for one or two people I will Read everything.. in the next survey I will take a few ideas from the old survey and new ones…. now read and I hope you like it <33

The final whistle sounds and the whole Wembley Stadium screams out everyone cheers and hugs. Your big sister has made history with her girls, becoming European champions for the very first time and in their own country

You jump into your brother Jacob's arms. Tears of joy run down your cheeks. Your emotions are going crazy. You're so happy for your sister

Leah falls into Millie's arms full of tears. Ella jumps into Alessia's arms. Everyone is happy in their own way. You haven't seen her so happy in a long time

After the first great joy was over, the girls went to stand for the German team so that they could pick up their silver medals. Then it was their turn. Each of the girls picked up their own gold medal. Leah went last, she carried the trophy

The girls waited eagerly for Leah. They all counted down and with a big jerk the girls jumped up and lifted the trophy

After Leah celebrated with her girls on the field, everyone went to their families to bring them to the field

Leah ran straight into your arms and lifted you from the stands to hug you tighter

“I’m so proud of you Lee” you tell her in your tight embrace

Leah couldn't say anything, tears just flowed down her cheeks and she hugged you tighter

She let go of you to hug your brother. You saw Nikita come up to you and give you a big hug. The rest of the team came to hug you but you were only waiting for one person

You looked around and looked for her but didn't find her. You felt Leah pull your arm and pull you into the middle of the field and then you saw the familiar face that you were looking for the whole time

alessia. She literally jumped on you and took you tightly in her arms and cut off your breath

"I'm so incredibly happy to see you here y/n"

she screams

"and so am I" You said laughing, squeezing her tighter

“Come with me, I want to show you something,” she moves away from you to take your head in her hands

She took your hand and pulled you towards the changing room

She pulled you down the long hallway until you got to the lionesses' cabins. She pulled you into the toilets

"lessi where are you taking me" you say smiling and tramp after her

“Just let yourself be surprised,” she says, her cleats echoing across the floor

She opened the door to the toilets, pulled you in and closed the door behind you

As soon as the door is closed she presses her lips to yours. Your eyebrows furrowed. You feel slightly confused about the kiss. You don't know if it's just the flood of her emotions

You pulled back slightly and she looked at you with her bright blue eyes. Never in your life had you seen Alessia so close to you and her eyes so bright

"lessi what will it be" you say shocked

"You know I once told you when I was drunk that I've had feelings for you for a long time we never talked about it again and it broke me that I never spoke to you about it again"

You couldn't answer. You just pressed your lips against hers again and pulled her into a painful kiss. You try to get control of the kiss but Alessia pushes you against the wall and her hands move up and down on your hips

She moans softly into your mouth, which gives you the opportunity to stick your tongue between her lips. Your head hits the wall and Alessia starts kissing you harder than before

"y/n where are you we want to go to the after party soon"

you hear your big sister screaming in the changing rooms

“fuck lessi shit stop leah is here” you said in a panic

"Calm down, she won't come in here" Alessia says and starts to push your head up to get access to your neck

You tilt your head back and groan

Leah comes to the toilets and opens the door

“What the fuck is going on here oh my god” she says almost screaming and her eyes widen

Keira and Lucy follow her

Lucy steps into the bathroom next to the shocked Leah Lucy starts laughing loudly

"Oh oh oh Keira come here" she says laughing loudly

"How long has this shit been going on with you guys? Did you plan on telling me at some point?" Leah says, visibly upset

"It's not long- it's nothing i- le-"

you say frozen, embarrassed that she caught you already

"I really don't have to give myself that" Leah says angrily and turns around and leaves

You wanted to go after her and stop her but Lucy steps in front of you and stops you

“Give her some time she’ll cool off” she says with a laugh and turns her back to you

You look at Alessia who just shrugs her shoulders

[readychilledwine]

Lost Bonds pt 4

Summary - The last thing Tamlin planned to have happen was a bond snapping between him and Y/N Archeron. Now the big question becomes, is it too late to fix what has been broken?

Warnings - stereotypical happy ever after, grudges, cutting ties with family, rhysand being a decent brother in law, divorce, children, babies, pregnancy, reader's powers are yin to Nesta's yang, loosely edited (squint away any mistakes💕)

A/n - I know some people might be upset with the direction this ended in, but it felt... right? Forgive me.

✨️Tamlin Masterlist✨️

Lost Bonds: Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

The Fire in Spring *can be read as a bonus Calanmai smut scene*

Rhysand was eerily calm as Azriel approached his office with Feyre. For the first time since her arrival here, Feyre would be in a seat he typically only forced the Inner Circle to instead of at his side.

Rhys sat and waited, hands laced together as they entered. “You are probably wondering why I asked you two to come in. Sit.” He motioned to the chairs across from him, not missing the look of confusion on Feyre's face. He waited for them to settle before saying the one thing he knew would begin the fight he prepared himself for, “I sent y/n to Spring yesterday. For Calanmai.”

Azriel's hands instantly twitched, and the fight began.

Three weeks had past with you and Tamlin and Tamlin and you. They were spent deep in the throes of passion. In need and want and want and need and every lingering emotion in between.

He had worshiped you. Truly and fully. He explored every inch of skin, tasting and kissing it every time like it was his last meal, like these were his last moments and he would rather spend them nowhere else than between the thighs he had become obsessed with.

It had taken 3 weeks for the bond to cool down enough for him to attempt to go back to his duties. He still ached for you and the completion that came with being yours, and you ached as well. You were like air to each other. Something so simple, yet so vital to life.

He sighed as he entered his office and sat in front of Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. “You selfish-”

His hand went up. “If you're going to start throwing names around, shadowsinger, I have several for you. Be silent and allow me to discuss this with your lord and lady.”

Rhys was the first to speak after the blatant dismissal. “Where is she?”

“She should be resting. She's had a long morning already. She spent the morning with other Ladies of the Court discussing the upcoming Summer celebrations. I believe she is still socializing, though. I do not keep track of her constantly. She is a grown adult.”

Feyre scoffed and Tamlin raised his brow at her before she instantly looked down. “Is she happy?”

“Happier than I've been in a long time,” you entered the room, long hair falling in waves, an apricot colored dress swaying as you did. The colors of Spring made you even more radiant, your skin glowing, eyes dancing with light that had been missing for several years. “I assume you brought papers for me.”

You moved to Tamlin, standing behind him and holding a hand out for his. Feyre was shaking, refusing to look at you. “If you sign this, if you choose to stay, I never want to see you again.” The words should have cut like a knife, but all you could do was sigh.

“Would you like me to stay in Night then?”

Azriel glared towards Tamlin. “Its where you belong. Where your husband is. Where your family is.”

“Where your mate is,” you began to trail on for him. “Where you can have your cake and eat it too. Where your family has spent the past 4 years letting you make a fool out of me. Fond memories, yes.”

“Our marriage wasn't always unhappy, y/n.”

“No. But it became unhappy the second you had an affair. Sign the papers, Azriel.”

Rhysand stayed oddly silent, as did Tamlin, the two high lords were in a silent conversation regarding the scent only they seemed to be able to detect. You were not leaving Spring, not when you, albeit unknowingly, were carrying its salvation inside of you.

Tamlin pointed to the line that would grant you your freedom. Tapping it twice in a silent message to you to sign and stay at his side as he watched Azriel. He had no doubt the male planned on grabbing you, upset that he was losing his own claim to a made sister, upset that the Cauldron had paired him with another.

Tamlin knew his look. The look of a male who wanted everything with no compromise. He remembered being there. Being that male. He knew the pain that came with it, the anger. He watched you sign, signature so flawless and soft, curling the page that gave you freedom and you stepped back. Hiding that joy that was flooding him as you did.

“I won't stop fighting for you.”

You shook your head as you laid the ring on the desk and slid it to him. “You will. You will realize this was best for both of us in time. You will find happiness, peace, and what you are looking for.”

“I won't sign.”

Rhysand pinched his nose and then picked at his jacket, a nervous habit now instead of obsession. “Azriel, sign the papers.”

“I won't-”

“You will because I have tolerated every moment of this bull shit knowing it is against every law we have honored for thousands of years.” Tamlin was oddly calm, hand still in yours. “I tolerated it for her happiness.”

“She was happy with me.”

“Until 4 years ago, yes.”

You turned to Rhysand, eyes pleading. “Please.” Her brother in law nodded, taking her side and owning his error another time.

“Sign the papers, Azriel.” Feyre and Azriel seemed to freeze. It was a set command, one the shadowsinger would not be able to push. “Sign the papers.”

“I will never forgive you for this.”

Rhys shrugged. “I'll add it to the many times I was doing what was best for everyone else but made the bad guy. Sign the papers.”

Azriel stared at Tamlin as he signed the papers before taking the ring and standing. He left without saying goodbye, without looking back at you one last time. Without even so much as a sign of the love you two once shared.

“You will never see Nyx again.” Tamlin tugged the bond, sending you his love and support regardless of what you picked but silently begging you to stay.

Your throat tightened as you looked to Feyre, “Are you truly that selfish? Without Tamlin, you would not even have Nyx. You wouldn't have a mate.” She glared at you, chin head high as you continued, “you were never met to be Tamlin's, Feyre. Imagine a world where you would have just let me go, where I came here as the person who was supposed to.” She suddenly looked away, eyes squeezing shut as she did. “If that is the road you would like us to go down, consider it done. You are no longer my sister, no longer my other half, no longer part of me. If my happiness means this little to you, then we need to part ways.”

Feyre just nodded, standing and holding her hand out to Rhysand. Your brother in law shook his head, nodding for her to go. He sunk further into the chair he was in before looking to you and Tamlin. “Congratulations,” in was sincere, soft. Rhys grabbed your hand, kissing the palm. “You will always have a home in Velaris.”

10 years later

Tamlin sighed quietly next to you, bouncing your third child and daughter, Willow, on his lap as the other two sat. Oakland, your oldest son, was reading with his back leaned against your legs. Fleur, your middle daughter, was sitting by the glittering fish pond every court was circling.

High Lord's meetings were now quarterly. A way of holding each other all in check and accountable. Each one was more of a bitchfest than productive, but it had allowed relations between several courts to improve.

This one had been called due to Helion stepping down. With Beron gone, Autumn stable, and his mate and son finally at his side, the High Lord decided there was no better way to celebrate than relinquishing his powers to Lucien and enjoying the lost time he should have had with Andromeda.

Lucien looked to Tamlin, a little lost on the question Rhysand was asking before clearing his throat to answer, “I will not be enforcing rank and class if that's what you are asking. Fae are fae. Lower or higher does not matter to me. Laws will be enforced, tax will be enforced, and opportunities will be fair.” Rhys seemed content in that answer, looking at Feyre and Nyx before nodding.

You two knew you were next and Tamlin sighed as he handed Willow to you, much to her protest. “Spring is fully rebuilt and has implemented a version of Tarquin’s laws that work best for us,” the mentioned high lord smiled and raised his bubbling wine. “Our army is young, growing, but eager.”

He looked to you, “We would appreciate the spies being removed from our court, though. We are willing to answer any questions someone may have. We feel the use of spies in unnecessary. We have opened our boarders and home to anyone."

“The mortals,” Eris began slowly. “They are?”

“Part of our court as of two months ago,” you answered for Tamlin. “We are the only court they agreed to form a pact with. Jurian and Vassa will remain ruling over them as a better connection point.”

Eris hummed. Satisfied with the answer.

“Will they be asking to travel?” Kal watched his daughter, stopping her before her snow pale hand touched the pond with a soft no. “There are concerns over them coming to Winter. They were not made for such temperatures.”

Tamlin nodded, “We had hoped to discuss that with each court one on one. They are… beautiful, curious creatures. They want to travel the courts and experience different foods and lifestyles. Provisions will need to be made for that to happen, though.”

You couldn't help but smile, hearing what you used to be called beautiful by the most stunning male you had ever seen. His hand moved to rest on your thigh, squeezing softly as the next question came.

“The growth in Spring, the herbs, the medicinal plants, the food, flowers,” Thesan took a short pause as he and his mate communicated silently. “How did that happen?”

Tamlin squeezed your thigh again. “Nesta was blessed with the powers of death. Y/n was blessed with the powers of fertility and live. Her presence alone has brought light and growth back to Spring.”

“And children,” Kal murmured. You chuckled softly. You knew your every growing family was a source if jealousy from several other High Lords and Ladies.

“Yes, and children. The increase of faelings in Spring has been our biggest blessing. We are averaging 20-25 babes a year instead of the standard 3.”

You watched Rhys smile behind his hand as Feyre still refused to look your way. “And how many more do you two plan on having?” The question came from Cassian. He had taken to his nieces and nephew like they were second nature to him. He was their favorite uncle, and Nesta was fighting Elain hard for favorite Auntie.

Tamlin looked at you. “Perhaps we will be done after this new one arrives.” You shook your head quickly, lip pouting out. “I promised her 12.” Eris and Lucien both spit out their wine. Having grown up with many siblings, the two of them both looked shocked as Helion and Lady Autumn both smiled wide. “We will decide here in a month or two.”

Your hand absentmindedly moved to your very swollen stomach. This one was a boy. You felt it in your soul, and new Tamlin was secretly excited over the idea of another beautiful son.

The meeting came to a close as soon as Summer finished their updates. Tamlin helped you stand, moving his hand to your lower back as he walked you and your three toddlers out of the room. You could feel both of their eyes on you. A lingering cold Hazel gaze, a heartbroken blue one.

He tugged the bond softly before winnowing you home and immediately taking you to bed as the children's nannies all came to collect them for nap time.

“She looked regretful,” Tamlin unlocked your dress, kissing your shoulder softly. “She will approach soon.”

“It doesn't matter if she does.” The acceptance came so easily now. “We have each other, our family. We have this,” you tugged the bond. “Nothing will come between our happy ever after.” You held your pinky to his, and he wrapped his much larger one around it. “To us and our happy ever after then.”

“To us, petal.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty @starcrossedsan @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thisblogisaboutabook @ohemgeewhat @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @b0xerdancer @forever-paramore28 @circe143 @ancientbeing10 @disgruntledturtleduck @fandomarchiveilyd

[calicoheartz]

Oh oh anddd...

Cait x wbbp!reader. Caitlin confesses to reader after their homecoming game because Caitlin realized that she doesn't want to hide her feelings anymore and possibly lose the love of her life.👀

-🦢

Hoco Hearts ; Caitlin Clark

꣑୧ — summary | you and caitlin had been best friends since middle school , what happens when she decides to make you hers on the eve of your homecoming game? 💌

wc ; 805

— warnings | lots of romantic / sexual tension , a bit suggestive , mainly fluff (high- school au)

my master list ㇀♡

a/n : ugh ily anon. YOUVE BEEN KEEPING ME FEDDD W UR REQS! also sorryyyy its low-key kind of short :( Enjoy besties ◡̈

Caitlin stood beneath the glowing lights of the basketball court, the scent of popcorn and excitement lingering in the air, as the sound of excited highschoolers filled her ears. It was homecoming night, a night pulsating with anticipation and celebration, as everyone gathered to experience the last basketball game of their senior year. But amidst the anticipation and excitement radiating both on and off the court, Cait’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions.

Her eyes glanced across the eyes before locking them onto a familiar and distinctive figure. You were a dedicated member of the girls basketball team at Dowling Catholic highschool, and had been playing varsity since your freshman year. 

You were always there, capturing every moment of the games with unwavering passion, and Caitlin couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nerves in her stomach everytime their eyes met.

Your history with Caitlin goes all the way back to middle school, with you two quickly developing and forming a strong bond, especially with your common interests such as basketball among other things. It was undeniable that you two had underlying romantic feelings for eachother, but the two of you never knew when the right moment was to bring these newfound feelings to light. 

There had been a number of situations where you two had almost shared a kiss, whether it was behind the bleachers after an intensive game,  or possibly alone in the bathroom at a halloween party; regardless, it was very obvious that the two of you were just more than friends.

But Cait was your best friend, she had been there for you when you got your first boyfriend, received your first heartbreak, and all the hallway crushes you had acquired over the years. And it pained her that you weren’t getting the hints she was giving you, the way she glanced at your lips constantly, or occasionally rubbing the inside of your thigh when around your friends, it was torture. 

You knew Caitlin liked girls, she knew that you liked girls, so why weren't the puzzle pieces naturally falling into place? 

That's why when their last homecoming game approached, Caitlin knew that this would be her last chance to confess her feelings before it was too late.

The game was intense, with both teams giving it their all. Caitlin played her heart out, her mind consumed with thoughts of you. Every time she made a play, she hoped you were watching, hoped you could see how much she cared, not just about basketball, but about you.

As the final buzzer sounded and the crowd erupted in cheers, Caitlin felt a mix of emotions. On one hand, she was thrilled that they had won, but on the other, she knew that the moment of truth was fast approaching. She had to tell you how she felt.

After the game, as the team celebrated their victory, Caitlin pulled you aside, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, gathering her courage, and looked into your eyes.

"Hey, can we talk?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, concern etched on your face. Caitlin led you to a quiet corner of the gym, away from the jubilant crowd.

"I... I have something I need to tell you," Caitlin began, her voice trembling slightly. "I've been keeping this to myself for so long, but I can't hide it anymore. I... I love you, Y/N. More than anything."

You stared at Caitlin, stunned into silence. You had never expected this confession, never even considered that Caitlin might feel the same way you did. Your heart soared with hope, but you needed to be sure.

"Do you mean that, Caitlin?" you asked, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt.

Caitlin took your hands in hers, her gaze unwavering. "I do. I love you, Y/N, and I don't want to hide it anymore. I want to be with you, if you'll have me."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you realized that your feelings were reciprocated, that the person you loved felt the same way. Without hesitation, you threw your arms around Caitlin, pulling her into a tight embrace.

"I love you too, Caitlin," you whispered, your voice filled with emotion. "I've loved you for so long, I just never thought you could feel the same way."

"I've loved you since I was 14.." the brunette whispered back.

Caitlin held you close, her heart overflowing with happiness. She had taken a chance, laid her heart on the line, and it had paid off in the best possible way. She was with the person she loved, and nothing else mattered.

As you both stood there, lost in each other's arms, surrounded by the sounds of celebration, Caitlin knew that this was just the beginning of your love story. And she couldn't wait to see where it would take you.

ahhhhhhh omg wait I rlly wanna write more cc/pb high school au fics !!!! as always, thank you guys so much for reading <3

[meazalykov]

friend crush

jule brand x reader

summary: you have a friend crush on the wolfsburg forward, or so you thought

warnings: confession. short chapter. reader figuring out her sexuality after a bit of denial

the first time you meet jule brand, it's at the olympics.

the noise of different countries competing for gold, the sight of athletes from around the world, and the electric energy of the games are all a bit overwhelming, but there's something about jule that catches your attention immediately.

she’s sitting with a few of the other girls, lena and sara, laughing at something sara said, and you can't help but notice the way her eyes light up when she smiles. 

there’s a warmth to her that draws you in, and you find yourself staring longer than you should. 

when she catches your gaze, you quickly look away, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

over the next few days, you keep finding excuses to be near her. it’s not that you’re intentionally trying to, but there’s just something about her that you can’t shake off. 

you convince yourself it’s just a friend crush—after all, she’s kind, funny, and an incredible player. who wouldn’t want to be close to her?

but as the days go by, and the more games germany goes through to reach the gold medal match–the feeling grows stronger. it’s not just her smile or the way she carries herself on the pitch; it’s the way she makes you feel when she’s around. 

you feel a flutter in your chest, a nervous excitement that you’ve never felt before. it’s confusing, and a little bit scary.

one evening, after a particularly intense training session, you’re sitting in your room, scrolling through your phone when sjoeke, your national and club teammate at chelsea, walks in the shared space. 

she gives you a curious look, noticing how distracted you seem.

“hey y/n, everyone is downstairs playing uno or monopoly, what’s going on with you?” she asks in german, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

she understands that the session was tough, but there was a bonding moment happening downstairs for the team. little did you know, jule asked sjoeke to come find you. 

you hesitate for a moment before finally admitting in english,

“i think i have a friend crush on jule, and that's all I've been thinking about outside of the olympic games.” 

sjoeke raises an eyebrow, a small smile playing on her lips. 

“a friend crush?”

“yeah, you know… when you really want to be friends with someone because they’re just so cool and nice. its just-- I'm not sure if she wants to be friends with me” you explain, though the words feel inadequate even as you say them.

“y/n, are you sure it’s just a friend crush? i’ve never heard of that term before– because the way you’re describing it– and the way you're stressed out about her attention.. it sounds like it might be something more.” sjoeke studies you for a moment before speaking again. 

her words hit you like a ton of bricks. something more? 

the thought hadn’t even crossed your mind. 

you’ve never really thought about your sexuality before, never questioned it, but now, with jule in the picture, you’re suddenly not so sure.

“i… i don’t know,” you stammer, the realization making your heart race. 

“i’ve never really… thought about it.”

“it’s okay,” sjoeke says gently, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder as she realizes that she might’ve forced you into an uncomfortable territory. 

“you don’t have to have it all figured out. come downstairs when you’re ready to be around everyone–”

the days that follow are a whirlwind of emotions, especially after you won bronze with germany. 

you find yourself analyzing every interaction with jule, questioning every feeling that arises. it’s confusing and overwhelming, but there’s also a strange sense of clarity that comes with it. 

you’re starting to accept that maybe, just maybe, your feelings for jule go beyond friendship.

eventually, you can’t keep it to yourself any longer. after the celebration party before everyone goes back to their clubs, you find her sitting alone, cooling down. 

with your heart pounding in your chest, you approach her, your mind racing with what you’re about to say.

“hey, jule,” you start, your voice trembling slightly.

she looks up at you, her eyes soft and inviting. “hey, y/n. what’s up?”

“i’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately… about us. if you don’t like it then please ignore that this even happened— i’ve realized throughout our moments here that i really want to get to know you more. not just as a friend, but… more than that.” you take a deep breath after, trying to steady yourself. 

the silence that follows feels like an eternity, but then jule smiles, a gentle, understanding smile that puts you at ease.

“i’d like that,” she replies, her voice warm and sincere.

you smiled in relief as you sit down beside her. the new journey might be scary but knowing that jule is willing to take that journey with you makes it all a little less scary.

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[skywalker1dream]

Title: A Day to Remember

note: emotional day yesterday ufff charles monaco win im so happy, i was crying yesterday, family podium with uncle chili. hope you like it. hope you are having good day or night, drink water and eat healthy. btw i used google translate..

charles leclerc x reader

Summary: Charles Leclerc has just won the Monaco Grand Prix, a dream come true for the Monegasque driver. As his long-time partner, you share in his triumph, and the two of you celebrate his victory with an unforgettable night in Monaco, culminating in a life-changing proposal.

Warnings: Fluff, mild suggestive content, celebration, alcohol use, proposal, explicit sexual content

----------------------

The roar of the crowd was deafening as Charles Leclerc crossed the finish line, securing his first-ever win at the Monaco Grand Prix. You stood in the VIP section, your heart pounding with pride and excitement. Charles had dreamed of this moment since he was a child, and now it was finally real.

As he stepped out of his Ferrari, the cheers grew even louder. His face lit up with pure joy as he waved to the fans, then turned and ran towards you. You barely had time to react before he swept you into his arms, spinning you around.

"We did it!" he exclaimed, his voice full of emotion.

"You did it," you corrected, kissing him deeply. "I'm so proud of you, Charles."

The celebrations began immediately. Charles was whisked away for interviews and the podium ceremony, but you stayed close, your eyes never leaving him. The champagne spray, the trophy lift, the national anthem, it was all a blur of euphoria.

Later, as the sun set over the Mediterranean, the real celebration began. You and Charles had decided to host a private party at the prestigious Monte Carlo Beach Hotel. The terrace was beautifully decorated with twinkling fairy lights, and the gentle sound of the waves provided a serene backdrop.

"To Charles!" someone toasted, and everyone raised their glasses.

"To my amazing team," Charles responded, his arm around your waist. "And to my incredible partner, who has supported me through everything."

The party was in full swing, with friends, family, and teammates mingling, dancing, and enjoying the lavish spread of food and drinks. But amidst the celebration, Charles only had eyes for you.

"Let's get out of here for a bit," he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, and he led you down a private path to the beach. The cool sand felt wonderful under your feet as you walked hand in hand, away from the noise and excitement.

Charles stopped suddenly, turning to face you. "I still can't believe it," he said, his voice filled with wonder. "Winning Monaco… it's everything I've ever wanted."

"You deserve it, Charles," you replied, cupping his face in your hands. "You've worked so hard for this moment."

He smiled, pulling you closer. "And I couldn't have done it without you." His lips met yours in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The world seemed to disappear as you lost yourself in the feel of him, the taste of him.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless. Charles rested his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling in the moonlight. "I love you," he said softly.

"I love you too, Charles," you whispered back.

You spent the next few hours on the beach, talking, laughing, and simply enjoying each other's company. It was a perfect night, one that neither of you would ever forget.

As the first light of dawn began to creep over the horizon, Charles stood up, pulling you to your feet. "Come on," he said with a grin. "I have one more surprise for you."

He led you back to the hotel, where a private suite awaited. Inside, a bottle of vintage champagne was chilling, and the room was filled with roses. Charles opened the French doors to the balcony, where a table was set up with candles and a view of the sunrise over the Mediterranean.

"Wait here," he said, his eyes twinkling with excitement. He disappeared into the suite for a moment, then returned with a small, velvet box in his hand.

He took a deep breath, his hands trembling slightly as he knelt down on one knee. "I've been planning this for a long time," he began, his voice full of emotion. "Ever since I met you, my life has been filled with so much joy and love. You've been my rock, my biggest supporter, and my best friend. I can't imagine my life without you."

Tears filled your eyes as you looked at him, your heart swelling with love.

"Today was a dream come true for me," he continued, "but it's nothing compared to the dream of spending the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me, ma chérie?"

He opened the box to reveal a stunning diamond ring, its facets catching the first rays of the morning sun.

You gasped, your hands covering your mouth as tears streamed down your cheeks. "Yes, Charles," you whispered, your voice shaking with emotion. "Yes, I will marry you!"

He slipped the ring onto your finger and stood up, pulling you into his arms. The kiss you shared was filled with love and promise, the perfect end to a perfect night.

But Charles wasn't done yet. He swept you off your feet and carried you into the suite, kicking the door shut behind him. He set you down gently on the bed, his eyes darkening with desire as he looked at you.

"I want to show you just how much I love you," he murmured, his hands trailing over your body.

You shivered under his touch, your skin tingling with anticipation. "Charles…"

He silenced you with a kiss, his lips moving against yours with a passion that took your breath away. His hands were everywhere, sliding under your clothes, caressing your bare skin. You moaned, arching into him, desperate for more.

Charles took his time, undressing you with a reverence that made you feel cherished and adored. When you were finally bare before him, he paused, his eyes raking over you with undisguised lust.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice hoarse. "I can't believe you're mine."

You reached up, pulling him down to you. "Show me," you said, your voice trembling with need.

He needed no further encouragement. His hands and mouth were relentless, driving you to the edge of ecstasy again and again. Each touch, each kiss, was a testament to his love and desire for you.

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, a claiming that left you both breathless. You moved together, your bodies perfectly in sync, building towards a climax that left you shattering in his arms.

As you lay in the aftermath, tangled in the sheets and each other, Charles kissed you softly. "I love you, Mon ange" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice filled with contentment.

You spent the rest of the morning wrapped up in each other, making love as the sun rose over Monaco. It was a celebration of not just his victory, but of your love and the future you would build together.

As you lay in his arms, listening to the sound of his heartbeat, you knew that this was just the beginning. Charles' win in Monaco was a dream come true, but it was also the start of many more incredible moments to come.

And you couldn't wait to share them all with him.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

Please, I Need You

Lando Norris x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of Suicide, Mentions of cutting, attempted suicide

A/N: If you can relate to this fic or feel like this please message me, my DMs and Inbox are open.

The spotlight had always been something I avoided. I liked my privacy, cherished the simple moments with my friends and family, and drew strength from the quiet, familiar spaces that made me feel safe. But when I started dating Lando Norris, all of that changed.

Overnight, I went from being a nobody to having millions of eyes on me, every move scrutinized, every word dissected.

At first, it was overwhelming but manageable. The praise from Lando's fans was a wave of positivity that buoyed me up. They celebrated our relationship, showering me with love and admiration that I had never experienced before. But lurking beneath the surface were the negative comments, the hate from those who claimed to be Lando's true fans. Their words cut deep, exacerbating insecurities I had carried long before l met him.

"You don't deserve Lando."

"You're just using him for fame."

"Lando's mine, and he'll never love you."

Each comment was a dagger, but none hurt more than the one that dredged up my most painful memory: "Go kill yourself like your twin sister did. Lando's mine, and he'll never love you."

My breath caught in my throat, and I felt like I was drowning. My twin sister, Emily, had taken her own life years ago after relentless bullying. I had always blamed myself for not being able to save her. The pain of her loss was a wound that never fully healed, and now, this cruel comment tore it wide open.

I stumbled to the bathroom, my vision blurred by tears. Locking the door behind me, I collapsed onto blade in the cabinet and held it in my trembling hands. My heart pounded as I pressed the sharp edge against my wrist, closing my eyes against the onslaught of memories and emotions.

"Lando," | whispered, my voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."

In the living room, Lando was scrolling through his phone, a strange feeling of unease settling in his gut. He got up and walked towards the bathroom, knocking softly on the door. When there was no response, he pushed it open and froze.

"Y/N!" he exclaimed, his voice a mix of fear and desperation. "What are you doing? Please, put the razor down."

I looked up, my eyes filled with pain

and confusion. "Lando, I can't... I just can't do this anymore."

Lando took a step closer, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "Please, just talk to me. Tell me what's going on."

As he inched closer, I lowered the razor slightly, the sharp edge still pressed against my skin. "I can't... I couldn't save her, Lando. My twin sister... she was bullied, and I couldn't save her."

Lando's face crumpled in anguish.

"Y/N, I had no idea. I'm so sorry."

Tears streamed down my face as I continued, "Someone found out and told me to kill myself like she did.

They said you'd never love me."

Lando's eyes filled with tears as he reached out to me. "Y/N, I love you more than anything. Those people aren't real fans. Real fans would be happy for us, not tearing you down."

My grip on the razor weakened, and I finally let it drop to the floor. Lando rushed forward, wrapping me in his arms. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. We'll get through this together."

In the days that followed, Lando helped me find the professional help I desperately needed. He stayed by my side, offering constant love and support. But he knew he had to do more.

One evening, I watched as Lando went live on Instagram. His face was a mix of anger and heartbreak as he addressed his followers.

"I've always considered my fans to be part of my family," he began, his voice shaking. "But today, I'm disappointed and heartbroken.

Someone out there thought it was okay to tell my girlfriend to kill herself because of her past. That is not okay."

He paused, tears welling up in his eyes. "Y/N tried to take her life because of those hateful words.

She's getting the help she needs now, but I won't stand for this. If you truly care about me, you'll support her and stop the hate. To the person who made that disgusting comment, I will be taking legal action. No one should ever go through what Y/N has."

Lando's outpouring of emotion resonated with his fans, and messages of support flooded in for me. The community rallied around us, showing the love and kindness I so desperately needed.

But despite the outpouring of support, the darkness still lingered.

Nights were the hardest. I often woke up in a cold sweat, the haunting memories of Emily's last moments replaying in my mind. I remembered her smile, the way she would light up a room, and the sound of her laughter. I remembered the day I found her, the lifelessness in her eyes, and the crushing realization that I had lost her forever.

Lando never left my side during those sleepless nights. He held me close, whispering words of love and reassurance, his presence a constant reminder that I wasn't alone. He made sure I attended every therapy session, even if it meant rearranging his busy schedule. He was my rock, my anchor in the storm.

One particularly bad night, I found myself unable to breathe, the weight of my guilt suffocating me. I sat on the edge of the bed, my head in my hands, tears streaming down my face.

"Lando, I don't know if I can do this," I choked out. "I miss her so much. I should have saved her."

Lando knelt in front of me, his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and determination. "Y/N, you can't blame yourself for what happened to Emily. You did everything you could. She wouldn't want you to carry this guilt."

"But I feel so lost without her," | whispered, my voice breaking.

Lando took my hands in his, his grip firm yet gentle. "You're not alone, Y/

N. You have me, and you have so many people who love you. We'll get through this together, I promise."

Through the darkness, there were moments of light. Slowly, I began to heal, finding strength in Lando's unwavering support and the kindness of those around us. I learned to forgive myself, to let go of the guilt that had weighed me down for so long.

One day, as I sat in a quiet park, the sun warming my face, I realized that I could finally breathe again. The pain of losing Emily would never fully disappear, but I had found a way to live with it. I had found a way to honor her memory by choosing to live, by choosing to love and be loved.

And as Lando wrapped his arms around me, whispering words of love and reassurance, I knew that we would face whatever came our way, together.

---------

Again, if you feel this way, please reach out.

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi i @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess s @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[geotjwrs]

Hi can I request a Jenna Ortega x male reader where the reader is in the army and comes back to surprise her during the Grammys or the golden globes right after she gets an award

hero's return

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; none

The night of the Golden Globes was filled with anticipation and nerves for Jenna Ortega, who was nominated for her outstanding performance in a critically acclaimed film. The atmosphere backstage buzzed with excitement as celebrities and nominees mingled, waiting for their moments to shine under the bright lights of Hollywood's grand event.

Jenna, adorned in a stunning gown that sparkled under the shimmering lights, nervously awaited her category's announcement. Cameras flashed, capturing every moment as she walked the red carpet with grace, her smile radiant yet tinged with an unspoken longing.

Meanwhile, Y/N, her devoted boyfriend, was thousands of miles away, serving in the military. They had been apart for months, communicating through sporadic calls and heartfelt letters, but Jenna's thoughts always wandered to him, especially on this special night.

As the award ceremony progressed, Jenna's heart pounded with excitement and nerves. When her name was finally called as the winner for Best Actress, she was overcome with a mix of emotions—joy, disbelief, and a twinge of sadness that Y/N couldn't be there to share this moment with her.

Standing on stage, holding the prestigious award in her hands, Jenna's voice wavered with emotion as she delivered her acceptance speech. "I am truly honored and humbled to receive this award. I want to thank my incredible cast and crew, my family for their unwavering support, and..." She paused, her eyes scanning the room, wishing Y/N could materialize before her.

"...and my boyfriend, Y/N," she continued, her voice catching. "He's not here tonight, but he's always believed in me, even from afar. This is as much his award as it is mine."

As Jenna made her way off the stage, the backstage area was abuzz with congratulations and excitement. She was enveloped in hugs and praise from fellow actors and industry veterans. Amidst the flurry of activity, a familiar voice called out her name.

"Jenna!"

She turned, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Y/N standing there, dressed in his military uniform. Shock and joy flooded her features as she dropped her award and ran towards him, ignoring the curious stares of those around them.

"Y/N!" Jenna cried out, throwing herself into his arms. Tears streamed down her face as she held him tightly, unable to believe he was actually here.

"I couldn't miss this moment," Y/N whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "I had to be here for you."

The backstage area erupted in applause and cheers as Jenna and Y/N embraced, their reunion a heartwarming spectacle amidst the glitz and glamour of the awards ceremony. They held onto each other as if afraid to let go, their love and longing finally reunited after months of separation.

"I can't believe you're here," Jenna murmured, her voice choked with tears of happiness.

"I wouldn't have missed it for the world," Y/N replied, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "You deserve every bit of this."

After the initial shock wore off, Jenna and Y/N found a quiet corner backstage where they could have a moment of privacy. They sat together, holding hands and basking in the glow of their reunion.

"I've missed you so much," Jenna confessed, her eyes never leaving his.

Y/N smiled softly. "I've missed you too, every single day."

They talked for hours, catching up on everything they had missed in each other's lives. Jenna shared stories of her hectic filming schedule and the challenges of being in the spotlight, while Y/N recounted his experiences in the military and the longing he felt being away from her.

As the night drew to a close, Jenna and Y/N walked hand in hand through the bustling halls of the venue. They were surrounded by friends and well-wishers, but in that moment, it felt like there was no one else in the world but the two of them.

"You know," Y/N began, breaking the comfortable silence between them, "I have something for you."

Y/N reached into his pocket, his fingers closing around something small and precious. He took a deep breath, his heart pounding with nerves and excitement.

"Jenna," Y/N began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. He knelt down on one knee, drawing a small box from his pocket. Jenna gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth in surprise.

"I've loved you from the moment I met you," Y/N continued, his eyes locked on hers. "You are my best friend, my confidante, and the love of my life. I can't imagine my future without you in it."

He opened the box to reveal a dazzling diamond ring, catching the light and casting a rainbow of colors around them.

"Jenna Marie Ortega, will you marry me?"

The room seemed to hold its breath as Jenna stared down at Y/N, her heart overflowing with love and joy. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she nodded eagerly, unable to find her voice amidst the overwhelming emotions.

"Yes," she managed to whisper, her voice barely audible but filled with certainty.

Y/N's face broke into a radiant smile as he slid the ring onto her finger, their hands trembling with the weight of their newfound promise. He stood and swept Jenna into his arms, lifting her off the ground as they spun in a joyous embrace.

Amidst cheers and applause from their friends and colleagues, Jenna and Y/N shared a kiss that sealed their commitment to each other. The room erupted into cheers as they announced their engagement, hugs and congratulations coming from all directions.

[scuderiasundays]

you and me together

summary: a growing rift between you and carlos mixed with late night celebrations for an old friend + a little insta au at the end!

words: 1,345

a/n: this is the first time i've gotten a request for a fic so a big thank you to anon for sending this in! i've been fixated on who will win wimbledon 2023 so i had to incorporate a few tennis players 🎾

Carlos had managed to score some much-needed time off to make it to Wimbledon. The two of you had always dreamed of witnessing the pinnacle of tennis, booking the trip ages ago when the two of you were on steadier ground. Carlos was going to join you after his stint at Silverstone, while you had landed in London a day earlier to reconnect with college friends.

"Looks like Taylor's the hot favorite this year," you grinned. You and Taylor had a loose connection through Alexa, his cousin, who happened to be your college roommate. Whenever Taylor felt overwhelmed by the pressure of ATP rankings, he would swing by their apartment unannounced. The easygoing Californian would tag along to frat parties, going in as a stranger and emerging with a whole crew of newfound friends. You had played the role of Taylor's personal chauffeur, escorting him home in his intoxicated state, all the while indulging in his drunken rants about seeds, tournaments, and prize money. You always had a hunch that he had a thing for you, but your busy schedules kept the two of you delicately tiptoeing around the topic, never quite addressing it head-on.

You couldn't help but wonder how different things would be if you had taken a chance on Taylor. Stuck in a relationship that felt stagnant, you walked through the familiar streets of a city where you and Carlos had once roamed during his McLaren days. London summers seemed to stretch on forever, with the sun setting late around 9:30 PM. You and Carlos had once strolled through the city hand in hand, lost in aimless conversation. Now, the demands of your job kept you from accompanying Carlos to race weekends, while he rarely made it home, going straight from races to the simulator in Maranello.

When Carlos strolled into the hotel lobby with Charles by his side, you couldn't help but let out a faint sigh. It wasn't exactly a huge surprise since you knew Charles was a tennis fanatic, and you actually liked hanging out with him. On the other hand, you had secretly hoped this trip would be your shot at reconnecting with Carlos and maybe reviving the dwindling spark. Well, there goes that idea, you thought, feeling a twinge of disappointment set in.

As you entered the hotel room, Carlos asked, "You don't mind that I brought him, do you?" You replied, "No, not at all." Carlos proceeded to mention that he had to hit the gym since the Hungarian Grand Prix was coming up, emphasizing his "no days off" mentality. He affectionately kissed your forehead before shutting the door behind him.

Just as you were about to head out, a text notification popped up. It was from Carlos, apologizing that he couldn't make it to the Gentlemen’s Singles Final. Ferrari had sprung a last-minute PR commitment on him and Charles, but he promised to make it up to you. You were gutted, quickly dialing Alexa's number. You didn’t even feel like watching the match anymore, but she was adamant that you join her in Taylor's box. It had been years since you had last seen Taylor, and you were dazed by just how much he’d changed—a newfound aura of confidence that screamed "America’s No. 1."

"Y/N, it's been too long!" Taylor exclaimed as he pulled you into a warm hug. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation as you wished him luck and turned your attention to Centre Court, where Taylor was about to embark on an epic showdown against Carlos Alcaraz, the newly crowned world No. 1.

As the final point was won, the stadium erupted into an explosion of applause and admiration. Taylor stood tall, basking in the well-deserved glory of his hard-fought win. Emotions ran high as he shook his opponent’s hand in a display of sportsmanship and mutual respect.

Taylor's victory had set the stage for a night out on the town, and drinks were on him as the entourage made their way into the vibrant Sexy Fish in Mayfair. Congratulations poured in from all directions, amplifying the elation in the air. However, amidst the festive ambience, a pang of longing tugged at your heart, reminding you of the nights you’d spent by Carlos' side, reveling in his victories and beaming with pride.

As the evening progressed and the champagne flowed, you playfully grabbed an imaginary microphone, assuming the role of a reporter. With a mischievous glint in your eye, you turned to Taylor, who stood at the bar, soaking it all in. "You just won Wimbledon! How does it feel to be on top of the world, Mr. Fritz?" you mockingly asked him.

Taylor, caught off guard but never without his notorious charm, grinned and replied, "I don't even have words, Y/N. I wasn't in the best headspace going into the match, but you showed up, and something just clicked. Maybe I'd be World No.1 if you were in my box at every tournament." His playful words made you blush, fully aware of the harmless flirtation at play. You knew you weren't doing anything wrong, yet the room seemed to spin, overwhelming you with a sudden rush of emotions. Excusing yourself, you swiftly made your way towards the ladies' room, seeking a moment alone to gather your thoughts in the midst of the whirlwind celebration.

As Carlos and Charles walked into the restaurant, accompanied by a group of older executives, they immediately spotted you amidst the crowd. Charles couldn't help but make a lighthearted remark, "Funny seeing you here, Y/N! Any chance you can introduce us to the Wimbledon champion?" Relief washed over you, knowing they hadn't overheard your conversation with Taylor. Taylor was stunned to say the least as you walked back to the bar with two rather muscular men by your side.

“Taylor, meet the Scuderia Ferrari boys. Boys, meet Taylor.” The handshake exchanged between the three men was cordial, but Carlos, always quick-witted and ever possessive, raised one of his infamous eyebrows and chimed in, "Thanks for the introduction but I’m your boyfriend more importantly, no?" The playful remark had a tinge of jealousy in it, causing a momentary pause in the conversation.

Just then, Alexa, your ever-supportive confidante, happened to pass by. In her extremely inebriated state, she voiced what had been gnawing at her mind, "Not for long if you don't treat her right. You barely show up for her." Alexa had been there through the ups and downs of your rollercoaster of a relationship, aware of the challenges posed by long-distance and the strain it had placed on the both of you.

Overwhelmed by the weight of it all, you felt the need to escape for a moment. Without a word, you made your way outside, craving the coolness of the night air. Carlos, sensing your distress, followed closely behind. Observing your shivering, he swiftly handed you his navy blazer, offering you comfort in the only way he knew how.

"I'm sorry I haven’t been putting us first lately. I can tell I'm losing you," Carlos admitted with a hint of vulnerability in his eyes, his hands fidgeting nervously—a telltale sign of his unease. You could tell he was hurting as he struggled to find the right words. He had been grappling with the reality of your relationship slipping away, yet hesitant to poke the bear.

“It’s not just you, Carlos. It’s me too. Neither of us has been putting in the work and it shows.” Carlos nodded as his gaze softened.

“Where do we go from here?” Carlos muttered.

"Where do we go from here?" you repeated, mulling over the open-ended question. It held infinite possibilities, a multitude of paths stretching out before the two of you. And in that moment, you knew what you wanted more than anything.

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you looked up at Carlos, a spark dancing in your eyes. "Let's just walk around the city like we used to. Take me anywhere, as long as the night ends with you and me together."

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

liked by carlossainz55, taylorfritz, and 57,575 others

yourusername: what a weekend! catching up with forever friends, getting my steps in, and watching the sunrise with my person 💚

alexafritz: you’re stuck with me for life

yourusername: i love this photo of you, lex! i’d be lost in a world without you 🫶🏼

carlossainz55: solamente mía

pierregasly: how dare you even think of going to wimbledon without me, @charles_leclerc 😤

charles_leclerc: calme-toi, mate! i didn’t even get to go but i did meet @taylorfritz 😏

yourusername: get a room

fan1: i went on a run in primrose hill this morning but i didn't want to bother carlos and @yourusername because they looked so blissfully in love

taylorfritz: you and lex are the best (loudest) cheerleaders 📢

yourusername: rooting for you always!

update: part two here ➡️

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

PALentines day 💋

Bale!Bruce Wayne x reader drabble <3

A/N: we all know about Valentines day, we've beard about Galentines day, now get ready for Palentines day!! A day to celebrate the most platonic of friendships... most of the time.

(I'm sorry that this is so short, I've been trying to write some shorter stuff lately <3)

~Fi 🐝

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Friends. That's what you were. The friendliest, most platonic tier of friends. Okay, you were good friends. You did hang out a lot, and it was always fun. Maybe best friends is a better term. You went to each other for advice and whatever was on your mind, always having someone to confide in.

Bruce was the best best friend, which is why he stood in front of your door with a overly dramatic bouquet of flowers and a disgustingly expensive box of chocolates.

Because, if your friend doesn't have a valentine, you step up and make them a little surprise to brighten their day! ... right? This isn't weird. No, he's just being a good friend, that's all.

At least that's what he told himself when his brows furrowed and a subtle feeling of regret started to seep into his bones. He hated how much this felt like he was actually taking you out and not like a thoughtful gesture you'd get from a friend.

And it didn't help his case of being madly in love with you, either. He hated himself for how much he liked this, being able to pretend that you were more than just friends for even a split second. That he was able to do what he's been wanting to do for years; show you just how much you truly mean to him.

Bruce has had a gray, dull and gloomy life. Everything seemed to go wrong for him, throwing him deeper and deeper into emotional ruin. But then you came along and made everything just that little bit more bearable. You were like his little ray of sunshine that broke through the heavy clouds and make him see the beautiful colors of the world again.

And he knows that he can never give you back just how much you've given him, but some flowers and a box of pralines are the steps in the right direction... right? Jesus Christ, what was he doing? He's just your best friend. God, this IS weird.

And for a beat, he'd actually thought about turning straight on his heel and sinking into a pit of shame once he was back in the privacy of his own home. Bruce huffed in frustration at himself. He'd been standing in front of your door like this, like an idiot, for the past 10 minutes and still hadn't found the courage to knock.

The crease between his brows softened. What if... you appreciated his gesture? What if, this was exactly what you needed after a rough week. Just someone thinking of you. And, what if... you felt the same? A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, along with a pinch in his heart.

Bruce wanted nothing more than for it to be true, to know that you've been loving him just as he's been loving you. He was never a fan of hope, but that's all his lovesick heart was filled with now. Overflowing with the desperate hope that he has the chance to make you his and treat you like the treasure you are.

He had the urge to fall to his knees before you and just let everything spill out, how you made his life better in every way, and that he was but a man who couldn't help but fall for his guardian angel.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

🌹

《Tag list》: @allysunny @certifiedredhoodlover @hellonheels-x @gaozorous-rex-blog

[redroomreflections]

Gentle Hands Chapter Ten

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: Natasha suspects Reader is in an abusive relationship and tries to convince her to leave

10/10

W/c: 6.2k

Masterlist | General Masterlist

Warning: Domestic violence

Author’s note: We are experiencing a time jump here. This is the end. Like many of the stories I’ve written, when I began this came from a deep place of loneliness and discomfort. The only way to write my feelings was to put them into a piece of work that included my favorite character. It’s easy to find that form of escapism in something you enjoy and so I did just that. I do hope y’all enjoyed this ride even if it was painful. I’m open to writing drabbles for this story in the future. 

"It’s like climbing a mountain," a woman’s voice quivered with emotion as she neared the end of her share. "You only see the tip of the iceberg, but beneath the surface, there’s so much more we’re battling through." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I think this is my last day. I don't have the energy to go through it all again. It feels like I've been doing this for so long." She reaches below her open legs to take a sip of her bottled water.

"I can't say how sorry I am that you feel like this," the therapist said, setting down her notepad as she looked over to the speaker. "I know your strength, and it seems like you've been carrying this burden for a very long time. All of you have." She eyed the group.

Directly across from her, you sat quietly in your chair, your hands resting in your lap. You briefly picked at your nails, a nervous habit you wished you could break. The cozy room, with its soft lighting and comforting decor, offered a stark contrast to the heavy emotions shared within its walls.

As the woman’s words hung in the air, you felt a pang of empathy. You understood the weight of unspoken struggles, the unseen battles fought beneath the surface. The therapist’s response was gentle, and filled with compassion and understanding.

Your gaze wandered around the room, taking in the faces of the other women. Each one held a story, a journey marked by pain and resilience. The group’s collective strength was palpable, a testament to their shared experiences and mutual support.

When the therapist turned to address the group, your attention snapped back. You took a deep breath, trying to ground yourself in the moment.

"Let's close out our time together with a meditation. I know you're all feeling very raw today, and I want you to focus on taking care of yourselves. I encourage each of you to lean into the things that bring you comfort and joy."

You closed your eyes thinking of the things that brought joy to your life. Your mind immediately flows to your baby girl. With her toothy smile and big brown eyes. You remember her giggle and the way she clings to you tightly as if never wanting to let go. She is your heart, your world. Then your mind flows to your friends who have truly become like family. Steve and his loyalty. Sam and his ability to always make you laugh. And Natasha, who holds a piece of your heart.

You hear the therapist clear her throat before she begins to speak.

"We can only be truly healed if we choose to embrace the process."

"That's easy for her to say," You thought. Embracing the process of healing is difficult. Healing is not linear. 

"There is no rush, no timetable. We will support each other on this journey, and celebrate the healing of our hearts and minds."

As the session came to a close, you gathered your things and prepared to leave. The room began to empty, and you made your way toward the exit. A woman from the group, her face bright with a cheerful demeanor, caught up with you.

“Hey, I’m so glad I caught you!” she said, her excitement palpable. “I’ve missed a few sessions, so I haven’t had a chance to catch up. How are things going with Natasha? You’ve mentioned her before, and I was curious if there have been any updates. I’ve been thinking about you and hoping things have been improving.”

"Improving?" You questioned with a smirk. Delaney Chance had always been one of the nosier groupgoers. You had quickly bonded with her over motherhood and pretty much everything else. She's in her late 30'sand while her demeanor makes her seem much younger you enjoy talking with her. "I'm not sure what there is to improve on."

"So you guys haven't gotten together yet?" She asked as she opened up a brand new pack of cigarettes. "This is the slowest burn I've ever heard of."

"I mean we're as together as together can be," You shrugged.

"I guess that's true," She took a pull from her cigarette. "I mean you both practically live together and you're raising two kids."

"Del," You warned, not wanting to talk about Natasha and yourself right now.

"Right," She took a few more pulls before continuing. "It's been a minute since you've checked in, I was just curious."

"Curiosity is fine," You nod. "It's just that I don't think I'm ready for a relationship. I don't want to keep her waiting forever."

"Has she truly been waiting though?" Delaney questioned. "You can't say the two of you haven't gotten close all this time."

You didn't say anything. You couldn't say anything. In your heart of hearts, you knew Del was right. You'd both been dancing around each other for quite some time now. You didn't want to hold Natasha back. But the truth was, you didn't trust yourself. You were too scared to love her. Too afraid of losing her.

You knew if you didn't make a move soon, someone else would.

"We have almost..." You bite your lip debating on what exactly to share with Delaney. You and Natasha have shared so many intimate moments. Cuddling on the couch at night after the kids have gone to sleep. Her bringing you tea after you'd been up all night studying. Things were as domestic as domestic could get. The only thing the two of you had never done was kiss. Not since that night, she'd taken you in. "But the timing was always off. Like something would always interrupt."

"Like the universe saying not yet," Delaney stated.

"Yeah." You walk down the street further, noting how much closer you are getting to the subway.

"Well, maybe you just have to stop waiting." She suggests. "Stop waiting for the perfect moment. Just kiss her."

"Kiss her?" You asked. "You think things work like that."

"Why not?" Delaney questioned.

"Because things aren't that simple," You argued.

"But they could be," Delaney countered.

"No, it can't." You were quick to argue. "I am me and she is...." You fumble to find the words. "Look I've done a lot of healing but I don't know if I can give her what she needs."

"That sounds like an excuse," Delaney stated. "Are you trying to protect her or yourself?"

"Her, I'm always protecting her."

"Then why are you still fighting it?"

You let out a deep sigh, the weight of the conversation pulling at your thoughts. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with her,” you began, choosing your words carefully. “I love our time together. Natasha… she’s the first person I’ve felt safe with in a long time. We have these deep conversations, you know? We talk about everything—our pasts, our fears, our dreams. She understands me in a way no one else does.”

Delaney nodded, her expression softening. “But…?”

“But we haven’t really defined what we are to each other,” you admitted, the vulnerability in your voice surprising even you. “We’ve gotten so close, and sometimes it feels like we’re more than friends, but we’ve never actually said it out loud. It’s like we’re both scared to cross that line, afraid of what it might mean.”

Delaney tilted her head, considering your words. “So, you’re stuck in this gray area, huh? That’s gotta be tough.”

“Yeah, it is,” you confessed. “Part of me likes the way things are now—no labels, no expectations. It’s comforting, in a way. We’re just… us. But at the same time, I know that’s not fair to her. Natasha deserves more than just the pieces of me I’m willing to give.”

“You’re right,” Delaney said gently. “But maybe it’s not about giving her more. Maybe it’s about letting yourself accept more. Letting yourself believe that you deserve happiness, too.”

You stopped walking for a moment, letting her words sink in. The truth was, you did enjoy what you had with Natasha. The late-night talks, the way she’d gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, the comforting warmth of her presence—it all felt right. But the fear of losing that, of losing her if things didn’t work out, kept you from taking that final step.

“Del, I just don’t want to mess this up,” you said, your voice tinged with uncertainty. “I’m terrified that if we try to make it something more and it doesn’t work out, I’ll lose her. I’ll lose this connection we have, and I don’t know if I can handle that.”

Delaney gave you a knowing smile, a mix of empathy and encouragement in her eyes. “Sometimes, you’ve gotta take the risk. If you both care about each other as much as it seems, then maybe it’s worth the chance. It sounds like you’ve already got a pretty solid foundation—why not build on that?”

You glanced down at the sidewalk, the city sounds buzzing around you as you considered her words. The thought of defining what you had with Natasha was both thrilling and terrifying. But maybe Delaney was right. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for the perfect moment and just… go for it.

"Thanks," You said as the two of you continued your walk. "I guess I should figure out a way to do that."

"I'm sure it will happen organically," She offered. "Okay, I have to go and pick up the kids from my mom. See you next week. Kiss those babies for me and that beautiful red-headed lady."

"Will do," You gave her a quick hug before watching her walk away. As you walked towards the subway, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. Maybe it was time to give your heart what it wanted most.

***********

You’ve heard countless stories, some eerily similar to your own, others vastly different, but all filled with the same undercurrent of pain and resilience. For two years, the group has been your anchor, a place where you could finally breathe, where your voice mattered. You remember the first time you walked into the room, your heart pounding, unsure if you belonged. It had been Sam who pushed you to take that step, insisting you needed a space where people truly understood you.

Initially, you’d been skeptical. The idea of sharing your deepest wounds with strangers felt overwhelming, even terrifying. But over time, this group became more than just a suggestion from a friend—it became your sanctuary. The Peach Tree Group for Women Experiencing Domestic Violence was the one place where you could drop the facade, where you didn’t have to be strong for anyone but yourself.

Week after week, you’ve listened as women bared their souls. You’ve watched as they slowly found their footing, just as you’ve been finding yours. Healing is a process, a journey you’ve all been on together, and though the road has been long, you’ve made progress—more than you ever thought possible.

Today’s session was no different. The topic was healing, a concept that had once seemed so distant, so out of reach. But now, as you sat there listening to the others share their stories, you realized just how far you’ve come. Two years ago, you couldn’t imagine feeling as grounded as you do now. Sure, the scars are still there, but they don’t define you anymore.

You can't wait to get home to your babies. You couldn't wait to finally live the life you'd been fighting so hard to have. Days like this felt surreal. It felt like a lifetime ago you'd been running. You're glad you dared to run.

**********

After the therapy session, you made your way home, the day’s conversations still playing in your mind. The moment you stepped into your apartment in the Avenger’s Tower, the warmth and familiarity of the space enveloped you, easing the lingering tension. You paused just inside the doorway, drawn to the sight unfolding before you.

Natasha was sitting cross-legged on the floor, with Brynn nestled comfortably in her lap. The baby’s tiny hands were reaching out, trying to grasp one of Natasha’s fingers while babbling softly, her wide eyes fixed on her sister with pure adoration. In front of them, Kaia was busy coloring a large piece of paper spread out on the coffee table. Her curly coils bounced with each enthusiastic stroke of the crayon, and her face was scrunched up in concentration as she carefully chose her colors.

You stayed where you were, not wanting to interrupt the moment. Kaia, her little tongue poking out in focus, was working on what appeared to be a card. You could see the bright colors she was using, and the careful way she was trying to stay within the lines—a clear sign that this was something important to her. Natasha, ever patient and loving, was softly encouraging her, offering gentle suggestions without taking over.

Brynn, meanwhile, had managed to grab hold of Natasha’s finger and was now bringing it to her mouth, gnawing on it with her emerging teeth. Natasha laughed, a sound so rare and precious that it made your heart skip a beat. The sight of them together, so at ease and content, filled you with a sense of peace you hadn’t realized you needed.

Kaia suddenly looked up, noticing you standing there. Her face lit up with a bright, toothy smile, and she immediately called out, “Mommy! Look!” She held up the card proudly, the front decorated with colorful scribbles and a least a half dozen scribbles.

Natasha looked up too, her eyes meeting yours, and the warmth in her gaze was undeniable. “We’ve been busy,” she said softly, a smile tugging at her lips as she shifted Brynn slightly to one side so the baby could see you too.

You stepped further into the room, your heart swelling with love for this little family you’d found yourself a part of. “It’s beautiful, Kaia,” you said, kneeling beside her to get a closer look at the card. “Did you make this all by yourself?”

"Mama Tasha helped me," Kaia nodded eagerly. “It’s for you, Mommy! I made it special.”

Her calling Natasha "Mama" had become a recent development. At two and a half years old, Kaia had started to pick up on the deep connection between the two of you and Natasha. Hearing her say it now, with such ease and certainty, sent a wave of emotion through you.

Natasha’s smile widened at Kaia’s words, a hint of pride in her eyes as she looked down at the little girl. “She did most of it herself,” Natasha added, her voice filled with a tender affection that made your heart swell even more. “I just helped with the finishing touches.”

You reached out and gently brushed a stray curl away from Kaia’s forehead, marveling at how much she had grown. “You both did an amazing job,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

Kaia beamed at the praise, her bright, toothy smile lighting up her entire face. She reached out to you, her little hands sticky with crayon wax, and you pulled her into a hug, holding her close.

Brynn, not wanting to be left out, let out a babble that sounded like a protest until you reached over and stroked her chubby cheek. She immediately grabbed onto your finger, just as she had with Natasha, her grip surprisingly strong for such a tiny baby. Her big brown eyes sparkled as she stared up at you, her expression one of pure innocence and trust.

You shifted closer, placing a gentle kiss on Brynn’s forehead before looking back at Natasha.

"Thank you for keeping them," You offered to her as you settled next to her on the floor. Brynn practically threw herself into your arms before you could sit properly. The ten-month-old rested her head on your chest to hear your heartbeat. It was something she'd done from the very first day she'd been born.

"You don't have to thank me," Natasha reminded you. "I like the little rascals."

"Even when they're being little rascals?" You asked.

"Especially then," She smirked. "They're just like their Mama."

"Hey," You warned.

"I said especially," She teased, her eyes sparkling.

"Do you have anything planned for the day?" You attempted to hold a conversation between Brynn babbling and Kaia adding her commentary.

"The only thing I had planned was making sure the girls were okay."

"That's sweet," You smiled at her. "But seriously, nothing?"

"Why? Have a hot date or something?" Natasha tilted her head.

"Pftt," You scoffed. "I haven't been on a date since... well, I've never been on a date."

"What?" Natasha's eyes widened. "You've never been on a date?"

"Well," You began, knowing you'd have to explain. "K-E-I-T-H and I were in high school and we didn't have the opportunity to since my parents didn't approve. Once we moved we would have little things here and there but it was never a date. I thought I told you this before?" You look at her quizzically.

"I don't recall," Natasha replied. "Maybe I blocked it out."

"Yeah," You laughed. "It's not something I like to talk about."

"Mama, look at these circles." Kaia interrupted.

"They are pretty good," Natasha complimented.

"What color did you use?" You asked her.

"All of them," She answered. "But I put blue because it's your favorite." Suddenly, as if she had just realized, Kaia gasped and looked around. "Oh no, where's Blankie."

"Blankie is in the wash remember?" Natasha said. "You spilled chocolate milk on it the other day."

"Oh," Kaia nodded. It was all coming back to her now.

"It's okay, baby," You assured her. "We'll have it dried in no time. How about you draw a picture for Blankie while we're waiting?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" Kaia cheered. It was the blanket she received as a Christmas gift from Natasha last year. She wouldn't let that thing out of her sight.

"How was the group?" Natasha questioned.

"Good, very good." You replied.

"Anything new happening?"

"Not really," You shrugged. "Just the same stuff. We talked a little bit about the importance of healing and congratulating ourselves for the progress we've made."

"That's good," Natasha smiled, the softness in her eyes filling you with warmth. "You deserve it."

"Thanks," You returned her smile.

"Okay, I'm hungry," Kaia said as she got up. "My stomach is so empty."

"How can it be that empty when you've already had two snacks?" Natasha raised a brow at the two-year-old.

"Because it is," Kaia answered simply.

"Come on, Mama, let's go make a snack." Kaia abandoned her crayons to tug at your arm.

"Careful," You warned her as you passed Brynn back to Natasha. "Don't pull."

"Sorry, " Kaia let go.

"I'll meet you guys in the kitchen," Natasha called after you.

"How about peanut butter and jelly?" You suggested as you followed Kaia into the kitchen. It was then you'd noticed the Elsa of Frozen's costume dress she was wearing. It was the third time she'd worn it this week. Neither of you would dare take it off of her. It's one of those perks of living with a two-year-old. She was fiercely independent and opinionated.

As Kaia assumed her position on the step stool, you worked around her to grab the ingredients.

"Do you think toasted or non-toasted?"

"Toasted," Kaia said matter of fact.

"Okay, toasted it is."

"Do we have grapes?" She asked.

"Yes, I bought a pack yesterday."

"Good," She nodded.

You smiled as Kaia perched herself on the step stool, her tiny hands resting on the countertop as she eagerly watched you gather the ingredients for the peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Her Elsa dress fluttered slightly as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other.

"Alright, toasted it is," you said, sliding two slices of bread into the toaster. The kitchen filled with the quiet hum of the appliance as it began to brown the bread, and you glanced over at Kaia, who was patiently waiting for her turn to help.

She was growing up so fast, you thought, your heart swelling with pride. At two and a half, Kaia was already so independent, so sure of herself. You couldn’t help but admire the way she approached everything with such determination and focus. It was as if she had already decided that the world was hers to explore, and she was ready to take it on, one small step at a time.

As the toaster popped, you carefully pulled out the warm slices of bread and set them on a plate in front of Kaia. "Okay, little chef," you said, handing her a small butter knife. "Do you want to spread the peanut butter or the jelly?"

"Peanut butter," she decided, her voice full of confidence. She took the jar you’d set out and began to scoop a generous amount onto her knife, her tongue poking out in concentration as she spread it across the toast.

You watched her, marveling at the care she took with each movement. Kaia might be small, but she was already so capable, so eager to help. It was in these little moments that you saw glimpses of the person she was becoming—kind, thoughtful, and endlessly curious.

"You're doing a great job," You praised her, and she looked up at you with a wide smile, her eyes sparkling with pride.

"I want it to be perfect," Kaia said, smoothing out a small clump of peanut butter that had stubbornly stuck to one spot. "Mommy, do you think Brynn will like it too?"

Your heart melted at her words. "I'm sure she will," you assured her. "But I think it's more important that you like it. After all, you’re the one making it."

Kaia nodded, her expression serious as she finished with the peanut butter and reached for the jelly. As she carefully spread it over the second slice of toast, you couldn’t help but feel a surge of love for this little girl who had become your whole world. She was so sweet, so caring, always thinking of others—even her baby sister, who was too young to appreciate a good peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Once the sandwich was assembled, Kaia handed it to you with a proud smile. "All done!"

"Perfect," you said, cutting the sandwich into triangles just the way she liked it. You placed the pieces on a plate and added a handful of grapes on the side.

"I need to wash my hands first," Kaia slid down from the stool to rush to the bathroom. She almost ran into Natasha in her haste.

"Slow down, speed racer," Natasha said.

"Sorry," Kaia apologized before she sidestepped the other woman.

Natasha rolled her eyes playfully before she made her way towards you.

"Is she okay?" You asked.

"She's fine," Natasha shook her head. "I think she has too much energy."

"With Kaia, there's never too much energy," You joked. You made a silly face at Brynn, who was now nestled comfortably in Natasha's arms. As you looked at her, a familiar pang of surprise hit you. Brynn's resemblance to Keith was undeniable, from the shape of her eyes to the soft curls that framed her tiny face. It was always startling, like a sudden reminder of the past you’d left behind. Not that it made you love her any less your love for her was boundless, unshakable. But there was something about seeing that resemblance, the way it drew you back to a chapter you had long since closed.

Life had turned out in ways you hadn’t expected. You hadn't seen Keith since that day in the tower when you’d said goodbye for what you hoped would be the last time. For the sake of the girls, you prayed it stayed that way. Brynn was yours, part of the little family you had built with Natasha and Kaia, and you were determined to keep her world safe and full of love.

Watching Natasha gently rock Brynn, you felt a deep sense of peace. This was your life now—one filled with love, laughter, and the kind of stability you once feared would never come.

"So, when were you going to tell me you finished with your last class? You're officially a graduate now," Natasha smiled. She buckled Brynn into the high chair all the while glancing back at you for an answer. 

"Oh," You hadn't even given it a second thought. "I guess I didn't realize it until now. But yes, I'm done."

Natasha's smile widened as she stepped closer, wrapping her arms around you in a warm embrace. "I'm so proud of you," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration.

The hug was comforting, something you'd come to cherish deeply. You'd discovered over time that Natasha was incredibly affectionate, especially with you. She wasn’t just a hugger; she thrived on physical touch, always finding little ways to connect. Whether it was your feet in her lap during movie nights, her fingers gently massaging away the tension of the day or the soothing presence of her hand on your back, Natasha’s touch was always there, grounding you, reminding you of the bond you shared.

You hugged her back, letting yourself sink into the warmth of the moment. "I didn't even realize it," you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish. "I’ve been so caught up with everything, I didn’t take the time to acknowledge it."

"Well, I’m acknowledging it," Natasha said, pulling back slightly to look at you, her eyes shining with pride. "You’ve worked so hard for this, and you deserve to celebrate. We’ll have to do something special."

You smiled, touched by her thoughtfulness. "Maybe we could," you said, your heart swelling with affection.

Natasha's hand lingered on your arm, her thumb brushing lightly against your skin. "You’ve come so far, and I’ve loved watching you grow. You should be proud of yourself."

The sincerity in her voice took your breath away, and you found yourself at a loss for words. Instead, you pulled her into another hug, savoring the feeling of her arms around you, knowing that, with her support, you were truly on the path to healing.

"A hug without me?" Kaia padded into the kitchen. She sounded genuinely concerned which made you chuckle.

"You want in?" Natasha asked her.

Kaia nodded, reaching her hands up to you. You bent down to lift her. "Group hugs are the best," Kaia announced.

"They are the best," Natasha agreed. You were impressed with the little one's vocabulary and you'd suspect her time being the only child in the Tower contributed to that.

"Mommy?" Kaia looked at you. "When are we having lunch?"

"We can have it now," You told her. "Your plate is on the table."

"Yay!" She wiggled out of your hold and rushed to the dining table. "The last one to the table is a rotten egg." That one is all Sam's doing.

"You better hurry before she devours it," Natasha chuckled.

"She will," You nodded. You grabbed a hold of Natasha's hand and dragged her over to the table. "Come on, Mama." You teased.

Kaia's smile widened at your words.

You both sat down with the little girl. Kaia had already begun munching on her sandwich, a small dollop of jelly at the corner of her mouth. You grabbed a napkin and gently wiped it away.

This life was all you ever wanted. 

**********

Hours later, you slipped out of the kids' room, the soft creak of the door barely audible in the quiet suite. The soothing lullaby coming from their room faded as you padded softly through the hallways. 

As you wandered through the dimly lit halls, you decided to check in with JARVIS, “JARVIS, have you seen Natasha?”

“Miss Romanoff is on the sky deck,” Jarvis responded in his calm, neutral tone.”She requests your presence at your earliest convenience.” 

Curiosity piqued, and you made your way to the sky deck. The elevator ride felt slower than usual, anticipation building with each passing second. When the doors finally opened, you stepped out into the crisp night air. You weren’t properly dressed for the slight chill. The sky deck was illuminated by a soft, gentle glow, and you were greeted by the flickering light of candles arranged in a cozy setup.

A small table was set up, adorned with an elegant tablecloth and a few candles casting a warm, inviting light. On the table, there was a neatly wrapped present with a small teddy bear attached to it. The teddy bear was wearing a cap and gown and was holding a tiny card that read: “Congratulations on your graduation.” Followed by a hand-drawn heart and Natasha’s signature. 

Natasha was standing nearby, her silhouette illuminated by the candlelight. She turned as she heard you approaching, her eyes softening into a tender smile.

“What’s all this?”

“I wanted to celebrate with you,” she said, her voice carrying a hint of nervousness as if she was unsure of how you would react.

You felt a rush of warmth and gratitude. “Natasha, this is beautiful,” you said, your voice filled with emotion. You walked over to the table, taking in the thoughtful details. The teddy bear, the candles, the gift—it was all so perfectly Natasha, combining her warmth and affection with her desire to make you feel special.

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” Natasha said, her gaze dropping to the gift. “You’ve worked so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I thought this would be a nice way to celebrate.”

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. “Thank you. This means more to me than you know.”

Natasha looked up at you, her eyes shining with emotion. You stepped closer, your free hand coming to rest on her cheek, stroking her skin gently. She leaned into your touch, and you could feel the heat radiating from her skin. You felt a spark of desire, your body drawn to hers.

Natasha seemed to feel it too, and she took a small step forward, closing the space between you. You felt your heart rate quicken as she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss.

"Is this a date?" You questioned as you pulled back. Natasha chuckled.

"Do you want it to be?"

You pretended to think about it for a second before nodding, "Yes."

"Good, because I got us food from your favorite restaurant," Natasha smiled, guiding you to sit at the table.

"Are we going to discuss what just happened?" You gestured to the spot you'd been standing only moments ago.

"What? You're not hungry?" Natasha feigned confusion.

"Oh, I'm very hungry," You grinned.

"Then we should eat," She replied, ignoring your teasing.

"I was talking about you," You said, watching as a slight blush spread across her cheeks. "That kiss was something I've been wanting to do for a long while."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "And now that we're on a date, I think we can safely say that we're a couple."

Natasha chuckled. "I think we've been a couple long before this."

"We have," You agreed, squeezing her hand.

Natasha smiled, and you couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked in the candlelight. Her hair was pulled back into a loose braid, and she was wearing a simple black t-shirt and jeans. "I'm sorry I didn't plan this out a lot better," She brushed a hand over her braid.

"Don't apologize," You told her. "We're both busy and we have two young girls. There's not a lot of time to plan these kinds of things. I also didn't tell you about the graduation thing so."

"I'll do better," Natasha promised.

"Nat, seriously, this is great," You shook your head. "I'm not saying it because I think I deserve less or anything like that. My favorite moments spent with you are when it's just us. You can't say if you'd taken me to a restaurant people wouldn't be all over you to take a picture or sign something."

"But-"

"I don't need anything fancy, okay?"

Natasha nodded. "I understand."

"Okay, enough serious talk," You said, picking up the present. You shake the box. "What is this?"

"Open it and find out," Natasha smirked.

You unwrapped the present and pulled open the box. Inside, nestled on a bed of soft fabric, was a tennis bracelet. Its design was understated yet refined— a delicate chain of polished metal, adorned with a continuous line of small, shimmering diamonds. The stones were evenly spaced, their natural sparkle catching the light with each gentle movement.

The bracelet was crafted with care, its smooth links fitting together seamlessly. It wasn’t flashy or overwhelming but exuded a quiet sophistication. It was the kind of piece that could be worn every day, adding a touch of elegance without being too showy.

It was perfect.

"Nat, it's beautiful," You said, holding the bracelet up to admire the way it shimmered. "I love it."

Natasha seemed relieved. "I'm glad. I had a feeling it would look good on you."

"You're so good to me," You sighed. "I honestly don't know what I'd do without you."

Natasha's gaze softened. "I think you'd do just fine," She said.

"You're too modest," You said, setting the bracelet back in the box. "You've been there for me through some of the hardest times of my life. You're not just a hero to me, you're my friend, my partner."

"You make me feel special," Natasha murmured, a faint smile crossing her lips. "And I'm grateful to have you in my life. I never imagined I could have this—a family, a home, someone to love."

There's a pause between the two of you.

"You love me?" You ask.

Natasha nods, her expression soft and open. "I do. I have for a while, I think. But I was afraid to admit it."

"And now?"

Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on yours. "I'm not afraid anymore. I love you, and I'm ready to take this next step with you."

Your heart swells with happiness, and you lean forward to kiss her, a soft, gentle kiss.

You pulled back, smiling softly. "I love you, too," you said, a sense of joy filling you as the words left your lips. "And I'm ready to take the next step with you, too."

Natasha's grin widened, and she stood up with the expectation that you would follow. She extended her arms to pull you close. You enjoyed the feeling of her body pressed against yours. You inhaled the familiar scent of her soap, the warmth enveloping your body. Being in Natasha's arms is your favorite place to be.

"You're beautiful," Natasha murmured.

You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks. You buried your face in her shoulder, savoring the moment. You were happy, truly happy, and you hoped that this feeling would never fade.

You pulled back slightly, still nestled in Natasha’s embrace, the cool night air mingling with the warmth of her body. You gazed out at the city lights below the sky deck. The stillness of the night provided a peaceful backdrop for your thoughts, and you found yourself reflecting deeply on the journey that had brought you here.

It was incredible to think about how you’d found someone who truly completed you. The path hadn’t been easy—your past with Keith had been filled with pain and uncertainty, and the process of rediscovering yourself had been long and demanding. Yet, as you stood here with Natasha, you couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of gratitude and clarity.

You understood now why waiting had been so important. You needed time to heal, to find your footing again, and to reconnect with who you were after everything you’d been through. That period of self-discovery had been essential for understanding your worth and what you truly wanted from life. It was during that time that you learned to recognize your own needs and desires and to appreciate your strength and resilience.

And Natasha—she was the one who added so much to this newfound sense of self. Her presence in your life was not just a comfort but a reflection of everything you had come to understand about yourself. She embodied the partnership you had always hoped for, one that was built on trust, understanding, and unconditional love. Natasha’s love had shown you that you deserved this, that you were worthy of such a profound connection.

As you held her close, you realized that all the waiting, all the time spent finding yourself, had led you to this moment of perfect clarity. You felt a deep, abiding sense of contentment, knowing that you were no longer defined by your past but by the love and strength you had cultivated within yourself. With Natasha by your side, you were ready to embrace the future with a renewed sense of hope and purpose.

The journey had been worth it, and standing here, enveloped in Natasha’s warmth, you felt a profound sense of peace. This was where you were meant to be. 

fin

[justagalwhowrites]

Hi! Soooo I've read a lot of amazing Joel Miller fics, but Lavender is seriously my all time favorite. Doc and Joel's story just made me so emotional. Here's my request for a drabble/oneshot- a sneak peak into Doc and Joel's relationship when they first get together pre-outbreak. Specifically, Joel takes Doc out on a nice dinner date for the first time and she feels super special and they are starting to catch so many feels for each other. Thank you!!!

OMG Hi Bestie!

So you sent this ask in like... 1.5 million years ago and this isn't EXACTLY it but... I think it fits the vibe. I hope. So here's Joel and Doc's first Valentine's Day together. I hope you like it!

Cupid

You and Joel spend Valentine's Day together. A Lavender one shot. Can be read as a stand alone with the understanding that Joel and Reader have an established relationship.

^We're gonna pretend that's Joel for this, OK? OK.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader (From Lavender)

CW: Smut :) Just some fluffy, fun, p in v smut. They're in love and we love that for them. Pre-Outbreak. Age gap but not the focus of the fic (11 years, reader is 22 Joel is 33.) No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only.

Length: 3.8k

Wednesday, February 14, 2001

You’d never had a boyfriend on Valentine’s Day before. 

The thought made you oddly nervous. Not that Joel had given you anything to be nervous about, of course, but you were. Valentine’s Day had always just been another day for you. Sometimes Nan got you one of the little boxes of chocolates but, otherwise, it had never been something you had a reason to celebrate. You were just so used to ignoring it that, until Saturday, you hadn’t even thought about Valentine’s Day. 

You’d been in bed with Joel. It was late and your bodies were pressed close together, his skin on yours, your nose nuzzled into his throat, your head still a bit fuzzy from the orgasms. 

“How do you feel about goin’ to dinner Wednesday?” He asked softly, his fingers trailing over your side, lips in your hair. 

You frowned against him. 

“Doesn’t Sarah have practice?” 

“Canceled,” he said. “Besides, I was gonna get Tommy to take her, anyway. He’s already taking her for the night so we can have some privacy.” 

You frown deepened and you felt him chuckle against you. 

“Did you forget?” He asked. 

“No,” you said defensively. “I just… didn’t know there was something to forget.” 

He laughed a little again. 

“It’s Valentine’s Day baby,” he said. “Fully intend on takin’ full advantage of any holiday that lets me romance you.” 

Joel seemed to mean it. By Wednesday night, you didn’t know the details of what he was planning - you didn’t get to see him on Tuesdays, Sarah had Girl Scouts across town and your classes ran too late to see him before her meeting - but he’d sent flowers to your apartment the day before your date, timed when you were home for lunch between classes with a card that said he loved you and told you to be ready to go at 5:30 Wednesday night. 

You weren’t sure if you were doing your part in this right at all. You’d spent a good chunk of Sunday shopping and cursing yourself for not remembering freaking Valentine’s Day. It’s not like there weren’t heart shaped boxes of candy sitting out every time you went to the grocery store, it should have occurred to you. It just hadn’t even registered that it would apply to you now. 

You at least had an idea of what you wanted to get him and weren’t going in completely blind. You’d been keeping an eye out at thrift stores for vintage shirts from his favorite bands, never exactly hunting for them but always checking the men’s section when you went in to find something for yourself. You also had a picture from a trip to a museum of you, Joel and Sarah had made that you’d been keeping to give him at some point, wanting to frame it for him. 

It took a few hours - and stops at four different thrift stores - but you eventually found a Fleetwood Mac shirt that you thought was from the 70s and was wearing thin in a few places but you were sure he’d like it. You found the perfect frame, too, the wood cracking at the sides but you had a plan for that. 

You fixed the frame, coloring the glue forest green so it was like vines were growing on a tree and put the picture of the three of you in it. It was off center, you’d been holding the camera away from yourselves and hoping that you were all in the frame. You were looking at Sarah, she was looking at you and Joel had his perfect, crooked smile that made his cheek dimple and his eyes shine. 

You made brownies that afternoon, covering them in pink glaze and red heart sprinkles before piling them on a plate and sneaking a bite of one before getting ready. You took a curling iron to your hair and did your makeup and painted your nails red before slipping into a dress you’d found when shopping for Joel’s shirt, black and form fitting and you tried to not feel like an imposter as you tied the red ribbon around the half ponytail at the back of your head. 

There was a knock at your door and you took a last look at yourself in your bedroom mirror, breathing deep and trying to calm your thudding heart before you answered it. 

“Jesus, baby,” Joel said, a look of almost awe on his handsome face as you opened the door. “Should warn a man before you show up lookin’ like that…” 

“Is it too much?” You asked, looking down at yourself. “I can change…” 

“Don’t you dare,” he said, looping an arm around your waist and pulling you against him. “You look fuckin’ amazing.” 

You put your arms around his neck and kissed him, smiling against his mouth, before stepping back from him. He’d dressed up, too, in black jeans with a white button down shirt that he’d tucked in and worn with a belt. He even had on a tan blazer, one that looked almost too small for his broad shoulders.

“You look so good!” You were practically giddy, hands going over your mouth to keep from sounding too excited. Joel laughed a little. 

“Don’t know if it warrants that much of a reaction. But figured I’d at least try to look like I belonged out with someone as pretty as you,” he teased and you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, we don’t leave now we are in very real danger of not making it out of the house, you are too damn tempting.” 

Joel led you to his truck - which was almost shockingly clean, water from the car wash still dripping from his bumper - and opened the door for you, offering you his hand as you climbed in. 

“So,” you smiled as he started driving. “Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see,” he smiled back. “Believe it or not, had something cookin’ for a minute.” 

His hand found the inside of your knee, the callus of his thumb stroking the skin there. You tried to figure out where you were going as he drove but you were still caught totally off guard when he parked in front of a French restaurant you’d been dying to try. 

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped. “Joel!” 

He laughed and took your hand, kissing your  knuckles. 

“Know you’ve been wanting to try it,” he said. “Turns out a guy on my crew’s sister works here so I could wrangle a reservation…” 

“This is amazing!” You were practically giddy, going to open your door, but Joel stopped you. 

“Gotta let me try to be a gentleman,” he kissed your hand again. “Sit tight.” 

He got out and jogged around the front of the truck, opening your door and offering you his hand. 

“Why thank you sir,” you said, trying to sound aloof and dignified. You didn’t think you pulled it off, too busy smiling to make it convincing. He pulled you in close and pressed a kiss to your temple before putting his hand on the small of your back and guiding you into the restaurant. 

They sat you at a table in a secluded corner, a white tablecloth and the low glow of a candle setting the scene. The host handed you a menu in a leather book with a gold tassel on the end and you waited for him to leave the table before you mouthed “oh my god” at Joel, who smiled and laughed quietly across the table. 

The menu had was full of French foods you’d only dreamed of trying at a restaurant: coq au vin, confit de canard, gigot d’agneau. There was even boeuf bourguignon. But the prices made your eyes go wide, your newly-painted nails digging into the leather of the menu. 

“Don’t think I can get that beef you make,” Joel said absently, looking at the menu. “Not gonna measure up to yours, don’t care how good the restaurant is…” 

“Joel,” you whispered over your menu. He looked up from his, brows raised. “We really don’t need to eat here…” 

He frowned. 

“Not seein’ something you want?” He asked. “We can go somewhere else, might be hard to get a table but…” 

“No!” You shook your head quickly. “No, the food looks great but…” 

You bit your lip and trailed off and he watched you, waiting for you to finish. 

“But?” He asked eventually. 

“But this place is…” you lowered your voice. “This is expensive. We really don’t have to eat here just because I’ve talked about it, we can go anywhere, we can just order a pizza if you want, I really don’t need all this, this is…” 

“Baby,” he cut you off, a crooked smile on his face. “Don’t worry about the price. Been wanting to take you here since this place opened, set aside some money for it. Get whatever you want.” 

“But…” 

He set the menu down and crossed his arms over the table, leaning over it toward you. 

“You gonna let me spoil my girl for Valentine’s Day or are you gonna give me trouble?” He asked. You frowned a little, thumb toying with the corner of the menu. Joel tilted his head until you met his gaze. “I mean it, baby. Really want to do this. Please let me?” 

“OK,” you said, still uncertain and looking at the menu again, looking for the least expensive entree.

“Swear to god you order the cheapest thing, we’re comin’ back next week,” Joel said as though he read your mind. “You’d better get what you actually want.” 

“You drive a hard bargain,” you said, trying your best to ignore the price column on the menu.

You settled on the duck and Joel got the steak frites and, once the numbers were out of your head, you were able to relax more, savoring the wine and running your heel-clad foot over the inside of Joel’s leg from across the table. 

“You would’ve been makin’ fun of me last night, Baby,” he smiled, taking a sip of his wine. “Remember how I told you Sarah didn’t know what she wanted to bring to school for Valentine’s Day?” 

“Yeah,” you frowned. 

“Well,” he laughed. “She decided yesterday she wanted cupcakes. So we stopped by the store on the way home from scouts, got the themed cake mix, all that. But she really wanted to try and do it herself so I started out just supervisin’… ended up running the cake mix through the pasta strainer to get all the egg shells out of it, that girl was in rare form…” 

“Oh no!” You laughed, loud enough that the table close to you shot you a glare and you tried not to laugh harder when you quieted down. “How’d they turn out?” 

“Alright I think,” he said. “They were kinda lopsided but tasted fine. We split one this morning.” 

“You send her off to school with a sugar high?” You teased. 

“Not from half a cupcake,” he waved you off. “The little box of candy I caved and let her have this morning did that.” 

You giggled. 

“I’m sure her teacher appreciated that.” 

“I’m just hopin’ with the sweets from school it carried through to when Tommy picked her up from school,” he smirked a little. “Think I owe ‘em for loading her up with candy after Halloween last year, as if she didn’t have enough already…” 

The food was incredible, so good you had to set your fork down to focus on the flavor of the first bite, Joel smiling almost proudly from across the table. By the time you were done, you were two glasses of wine deep - Joel ordering a second for you before you could stop him - and he was holding your calf under the table, hand sliding over the muscle to cup your ankle, thumb massaging the tendon there. 

“You’ve been playin’ a dangerous game over there, baby,” he said, voice low. 

“You’re hot,” you said, almost shyly. “Can’t help it.” 

“Thinkin’ I should get you home,” he said. “Get you outta that dress.” 

“I’m thinking you’re right,” you said, heat settling low around your hips. 

Joel’s mouth was on you before you even got your front door closed, your arms around his neck and his hands on your ass, holding you tight to the front of him. 

“I,” you kissed him. “Got,” another kiss. “You.” Kiss. “Something.” 

“Really?” 

Another kiss as you nodded. 

“Didn’t need to do that, baby…” 

“Too bad,” you smiled, kissing him long and hard before pulling back from him. “I like doing stuff for you, too, you know.” 

You took his hands and led him to your bedroom, sitting him on the bed before handing him the box with the shirt and frame inside. He opened it almost reverently, a little smile pulling up at the corners of his lips as he did. 

“It’s not as good as what you did,” you said, sitting next to him, twisting your fingers around on themselves as he lifted the lid of the box. 

“Oh, baby,” he said softly, picking up the frame, his thumb tracing the parts you’d repaired. “This is perfect… when was this?” 

“Remember when Sarah and I were on Christmas break and we went to the natural history museum the day before New Year’s Eve?” You said. 

“That was a good day,” he smiled down at the picture before setting it on your nightstand and he laughed as he got out the shirt. “Where the hell’d you find this?” 

“I’ve been keeping an eye out,” you smiled. “It’s well loved but I did wash it already…” 

He cut you off with a kiss before you could finish, dropping the box and the shirt to the floor as he pulled you against him, his lips insistent and needy on yours. He quickly shrugged out of his jacket as you fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and he unzipped your dress. You got each other undressed quickly, his mouth on yours as he lay you below him, his large hand cupping your pussy before he slipped two fingers between your swollen, slick lips, tracing over your entrance before sliding up to tease your clit as he settled between your thighs. 

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he panted against you, pushing his fingers into your tight channel, just up to the first knuckle. “This all for me, baby?” 

You nodded and tried to pull him closer, to bring his body fully against your own, but he stayed just far enough away that you could feel the warmth of his skin but not the softness of him itself. You groaned and he smiled as he trailed kisses over your jaw to your throat. 

“Seems like you might want somethin’,” he teased a little. You just nodded. “Should say what you want, baby, so I know what to give you.” 

“You,” your fingers scrambled over his back, desperate to find some kind of leverage. “Want you, please Joel…” 

He kissed you gently but you could feel the hunger behind it. He needed you, too, you could feel it in him. 

“OK baby,” he said softly, lining himself up at your entrance, the swell of his cock just close enough to start to part your walls without pushing in. “Give you what you want…” 

He kissed you as he pressed into you, a moment of resistance before the thickness of his shaft entered you. You whimpered at the stretch of him, arching into his touch, your pussy already starting to tighten and flutter around him. 

“Oh fuck,” he groaned. “You already close?” 

You just nodded as he pushed deeper, his cock opening you to him until he was fully inside you, his head pressed firmly against the part of you that made you press your hips up against him and your fingers dig into his skin. You felt yourself pulse around him once before going even tighter as he moaned, his head dropping to your shoulder. 

“Goddamn you feel good,” he panted. “Not gonna last once you come baby, tellin’ you that right now…” 

“S’OK,” you clumsily rocked your hips up against his, desperate for that last little bit of friction you needed to push yourself over the edge. “Just… I need…” 

“I got you,” he said, pressing somehow deeper and making you whimper below him. “Give you just what you need. Take such good care of you, baby, promise I will.” 

He started slow but hard, the steady drag of his cock as he pulled back from you followed by the firm, heavy thrust of him as he fucked back into you. You matched his rhythm, moving your body in time with his, his skin warm on your own, his brown eyes warm and soft and deep on yours. You clung to him as his pace increased, your body getting tighter around him, orgasm building until your head was fuzzy and all you could feel was the desperate heat of pleasure deep inside you. 

“Want you to come for me, baby,” Joel panted, one arm slipping below your arched back. He tilted your hips ever so slightly, the angle adjusted just enough that he could press deeper, his hips against your clit, all of him hitting you just right. You gasped at the change, your arms latching onto him tighter, your hips stuttering against him. “Oh fuck, there you go, just come for me, that’s it, c’mon, just give in to it baby, just…” 

You cried out as you came, Joel holding you close and tight, his movements never slowing as he chased his own orgasm inside you, thrusting hard and deep until he pressed against the back wall of you as you throbbed over him, coming undone with a shaky groan. You felt him pulse inside of you, emptying himself deep until he went limp on top of you. He adjusted quickly as you caught your breath, rolling onto his back and taking you with him so you ended up sprawled on top of him, your nose nuzzled against his neck as he held you, his large palm gently tracing over your back. 

He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you hummed happily, whole body feeling soft and hazy as you just focused on his skin against yours. 

“You’re too good to me,” you sighed as you snuggled into him. You could feel him frown. 

“Why’d you say that?” 

“Because you are,” you kissed his neck. “You did way too much for me today, I can’t measure up.” 

“Hey,” he said quietly, pulling back from you just enough that he could look into your eyes. “Don’t say that, that ain’t true…” 

“Yes it is,” you said, running your fingers through his curls. “I loved it, I loved it so, so much. But it’s too much, I can’t do the same in return, I don’t deserve…” 

“Yes you do,” he cut you off, giving you a little squeeze. “Baby, you do so much for me just by existing near me, you realize that?” You looked at him skeptically but he didn’t give you a chance to argue. “I mean it. My life is so much better because of you. Never thought I could love someone the way I love you, you made me understand this kind of thing existed at all. You make me laugh more than anyone else I’ve ever met and you are so damn sweet. Plus you’re so smart, I could just sit and watch how your mind works all damn day and never get bored and the fact that you’d just let me… Not to mention how you take care of me and Sarah. Never thought I’d find a woman who could love my little girl like you do. You’ve given me everything and you do it every damn day. I just wanted to try and give you some of that back.” 

“Joel,” you said softly, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. 

“Never had a ton goin’ for me,” he said, smiling a little. “Always kinda figured I’d fucked my life up at some point but… I wouldn’t have Sarah or you without everything I did leading up to it. Makes me feel like I did something right to get the two of you in the end, you know?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, kissing him softly. “I know.” 

He smiled his gentle, crooked smile at you and you just looked into his chocolate brown eyes for a moment before you sat up quickly, remembering. 

“I made you brownies!” You almost jumped out of bed and Joel laughed, catching your wrist as you untangled yourself from the sheets. 

“Wasn’t done with you yet,” he tugged you closer, kissing up the inside of your arm. 

“I’ll be right back,” you said. “Promise.” 

You went to the kitchen and put two of the brownies onto a small plate and got a large glass of water before going back to your bedroom, Joel sitting with his back propped against your headboard. You handed him the water before you climbed in bed with him, holding the plate out to him. He laughed a little. 

“These look amazing,” he said, picking up a brownie and taking a huge bite, groaning a little in pleasure as he did. “Taste amazing too,” he said, his mouth full. “You’d have been ashamed of those cupcakes…” 

“Next time Sarah has a baking project, just call me,” you said, taking a bite of your own brownie. “I take sex in payment for culinary lessons for the right client. Namely you.” 

He smiled, tugging you against him. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

You snuggled in closer. 

“Think we should make these brownies a holiday tradition,” Joel said, finishing his and kissing your temple. “These are damn good.” 

“Plenty more where that came from, Miller,” you teased a little, sucking some of the pink frosting off your thumb. “You know, this was my first real Valentine’s Day.” 

“Yeah?” Joel asked, looking down at you as best he could as you stayed tucked against his side. “I do OK?” 

“You did amazing,” you smiled. “Ruined me for all other men.” 

“Good,” he said, settling back against the headboard. “Gonna need all other men to keep their hands off you, anyway.” 

You smiled a little at that, the idea of being his and he being yours. He nuzzled down into your hair, his lips pressing against the crown of your head. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” he said quietly. “First of many.” 

Your smile grew. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”  

[vivid-ink]

"Show Me & Teach Me"

Neteyam Sully / female Omatikaya reader

Summary: You were an inconsequential member of the Omatikaya clan who had failed your rites of passage once already. You were born to heal, not hunt or fight. So, why had the tsahìk designated Neteyam of all people to take over your training? What business did the future olo’eyktan have mentoring you? But it was too late now. You should have known better than to fall in love with your mentor. You had known this day would come; the day when your success would mean losing his company. You should have clung on tighter to your heart while you still had it…

Content: Angst & fluff, pining, protective Neteyam, romance, Neteyam is your mentor, teacher-student chemistry, eventual happy ending, slight age-gap fetish, older man-younger woman.

Word count: 6.5k

Notes: This is my first ever Tumblr fic post! I've posted previously on AO3, Wattpad and FF.net, but I discovered this wonderful fandom on Tumblr recently and you've inspired me! Shout out to these bloggers whose work and writing I've been avidly browsing recently - @cinetrix, @andraga12, @pandoraslxna, @lanasblood and @draiochtwrites Special thanks to @cinetrix for her fabulous Neteyam renders. SO. BLOODY. GORGEOUS. This is also my first attempt at a Neteyam/Reader style of writing, so I hope I've done it justice. I personally don't like the usage of 'Y/N', so the reader's name in this is Seyla. The name is not used often, but there are a few points where it has been used for stylistic/emotional effect in the dialogue. Cross-posted also on AO3 - Show Me & Teach Me Other works available - VividInk AO3

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The dichotomy of emotion that swirled in your chest was a frustrating ache; a blight against the happiness of the occasion. Today was a happy day, and yet the unwelcome despondency you felt stubbornly insisted on battling with your elation at having finally completed your rites of passage. You had completed Iknimaya to tame your own ikran last week, and yesterday you had completed your uniltaron (dream hunt).

You were officially a woman now, born again as one of the Omatikaya, and tonight the entire clan was celebrating you and your other successful peers. Your peers who are all a few years younger than you are… The pessimistic part of your brain unhelpfully supplied.

The swallow of saliva down your throat was tight at the thought and you mentally attempted to bat away the negativity. So what if you were a late bloomer? What mattered was that you had succeeded now, and you had one person in particular to thank for that.

Neteyam…

His name breathed like a soothing balm over your fraught mind, but before your thoughts could carry you further away from the jovial festivity that surrounded you, the call of your name jolted you from your contemplation.

“Seyla! Come and join us! Tonight isn’t for sitting, it’s for dancing!”

Twisting your torso where you were seated to meet the mirthful eyes of another girl across the bonfire, you gave her a small grin in response and shook your head. Nope, you were not much of a dancer. You were skilled with your hands; at weaving; at beading, and at healing – especially healing -, but the rest of you was as uncoordinated as they came. This was one of the reasons it had taken you longer than most to achieve your rites.

You raised your voice to ensure it would carry over the percussion drumbeats of the music and the crackle and spit of the fire, “No thanks! You go on, Pania! I can’t dance, and I’m happy being merry over here with my drink!” The vessel of bittersweet alcohol in your hand was brought to your lips once more to prove your point and though Pania pouted, she acquiesced and returned to her frolicking.

Shyness had been your constant companion your entire life. You had never liked being the centre of attention, had always been content to just blend into the background where it was safe and constant. Happy though you were tonight at your success, no amount of cajoling would to persuade you to join the mosh pit of revelry around the bonfire. You preferred your quiet contemplation, observing and finding joy in others’ bliss while they enjoyed the celebration around you.

With another sip of your drink, you sighed to yourself as the liquid burned a path down your throat.

As always, your gaze wandered through the sea of swaying and jaunting bodies, seeking out the strapping frame of the man you had become familiar with recently. You had grown fond of him over the many moons you had spent under his tutelage, far too fond, you realised. It was not long before you found him, mingling amongst a group of the other mentors.

Neteyam was laughing heartily among them, nursing his own vessel of alcohol. His smile was dashing, and his laughter was like music to your ears, warming the cockles of your heart and setting it aflame. You felt your own lips pull into a diffident smile of your own at the sight of him. He was so beautiful; both inside as well as out.

You remembered being mortified at first when he had been assigned as your replacement mentor. It had happened not long after his family had returned to the clan following the Long War.

The return of Toruk Makto and his family had been greatly celebrated; the return of their beloved olo’eyktan and the return of Neteyam as his successor. Neteyam had always been handsome, even in his youth. You recalled the silly girlhood crush you had harboured for him, a boy several years older than yourself who took not much notice of you, although he had always been kind in the few interactions you had shared.

Neteyam had returned to the clan even more striking now that he had grown into a man, with the toned musculature of a warriors’ body that made even the most reserved of women think unchaste things. You were guilty of this too.

So, imagine your horror when tsahìk Mo’at had pronounced that Neteyam would take over training you for your second attempt at your rites. Great. Just what you needed; more self-conscious pressure…

You had not done well under Rini’s instruction. Rini was one of the best young warriors in the clan, but she had found your lack of confidence frustrating and your timid nature more annoying than endearing. She had been impatient and exasperated as a result, the entire ordeal culminating in the shame of your first unsuccessful attempt at Iknimaya. You had not been injured, but you had failed because none of the ikran had challenged you and you had made no further attempt to tame one.

The decision for Neteyam to replace Rini had shocked you and it had made no sense. Even thinking back now, it still made no sense. Great Mother, why would anyone devote the time of the future olo’eyktan to the training of an inconsequential young woman?

Nevertheless, Mo’at’s decision had proven to be beneficial to your learning. You put it down to Neteyam more so than yourself. You were still the same old you; bashful, uncertain and reluctant to cause things harm, even if it was hunting wild game for the clan’s sustenance. Neteyam just had a way about him; he was unassuming and patient, and he had made you feel at ease with him.

The lively swell of the music around you faded into the background as your thoughts consumed you once more. The memory of your first meeting with Neteyam floated into the forefront of your mind…

*** FLASHBACK ***

“Tsahìk, I think the yalnabark tincture is done brewing. I’ve taken it off the fire for now or the mixture might scorch at the bottom.” You called out assuredly. If there was one thing in life you knew you were good at, it was the art of healing.

Mo’at reappeared from around the partition in the healers’ hut, crouching down to test the consistency of the tincture in the pot by stirring it gently with a wooden ladle. The viscous fluid bubbled gently and you knew it would cool eventually to form the thick salve you were used to slathering on cuts and wounds.

The tsahìk sniffed the wafting fumes before settling appraising gold eyes on you. She smiled and the expression made the corners of her eyes and mouth crinkle with warmth, “Well done, child. It’s the perfect consistency.”

Beaming at the praise you received, you settled the pot to the side to cool and began gathering your things to clean up for the day. Eclipse was fast approaching and the light of day was fading fast. Quietly, you wondered to yourself why you could not just carry on as you were, learning from Mo’at and assisting her with the sick and injured from day to day.

You were born to help people; to heal them and give them comfort in difficult times. Hunting and learning to spar with knives and spears were the farthest things away from your proficiencies.

“You are thinking so loudly I can hear your thoughts.” Mo’at hummed, her lips forming a wry grin.

“I just don’t understand why I have to train and pass Iknimaya. I’ll never be a hunter or a warrior. Can’t I just learn from you and be a healer for the rest of my life?”

Mo’at fixed you with an astute gaze and she narrowed her eyes at you, “You can and will be a great healer, Seyla. But Iknimaya is a rite of passage that all Omatikaya individuals must pass. You need to tame an ikran or how will you travel? You’ll never fly otherwise and you are too grown now to be a pillion passenger on another’s ikran.”

With a resigned huff, you slung your pouch across your torso, preparing to depart for the evening when Mo’at called out to you again.

“Just stay back for a while today. I told Neteyam to meet you here at eclipse. I figured it would be good for the two of you to reacquaint yourselves with each other a bit before you he starts your training tomorrow.”

Self-conscious flutters erupted in your belly.

Of course, you knew you would be spending a lot of time with Neteyam in the coming while since he would be mentoring you, but the timid part of you had thought you would not need to deal with your nerves around this until tomorrow. You did what was requested of you nonetheless.

Neteyam was prompt, stepping into the healers’ hut within moments of eclipse’s onset. Your heart had been racing steadily behind your sternum in anxious anticipation, but the sight of him made it skip a few beats. Eywa help you, he was so attractive… How were you ever going to be able to concentrate on your learnings being mentored by him?

You immediately rose to your feet from where you were knelt out of respect at his arrival. Dipping your knees slightly and with a bow of your head, you greeted him, “Oel ngati kameie, Neteyam. My name is-”

Neteyam interrupted you before you could finish, “Seyla. Yes, I know. I remember you.”

Your head snapped up in surprise at his words. His smile was kind and his eyes gentle as he regarded you and you blinked, lost for words, for several moments before you found them again, “Oh, you do? We never really spoke much.”

You were six years his junior. Too young to have been in any of the social circles Neteyam had made his way around in. Any interactions you had shared were fleeting and often just greetings in passing. He was as good as the crown prince of the clan, so naturally you had known who he was. It would not have been unfair though to assume, especially with your quiet nature, that he did not notice you.

A jovial grin danced across Neteyam’s lips, the tips of his canines peaking charmingly out from his behind his upper lip, “The girl with the pretty braids. Though I see you don’t wear them as long anymore.”

The peal of laughter that bubbled up from within you was involuntary, sparked by pure delight at the realisation that he did indeed remember you. You had worn your hair much longer as a girl, your tresses trailing in luscious locks down to your hips. Your hair had been one of the beautiful things about you, and you and your mother had spent countless hours crafting new beads and braiding them into your hair in intricate styles. The length had unfortunately become inconvenient as you grew older, so the ends of your braids were now lopped shorter to brush the small of your back.

A flush heated your cheeks under his scrutiny and your laughter died down. Clearing your throat clumsily, you nodded, “Yeah, that’s me.”

A hoarse chortle emanated from behind you and you remembered Mo’at was still present. Her husky voice piped up, her eyes twinkling with some enigmatic reason in their depths, “You need to look after this one, Neteyam. Her hands work miracles with the ill and injured. She is gifted with healing, both physical and spiritual. And you of all people should understand how exceptional that is.”

The tsahìk’s words were high praise and you felt the flush on your face intensify. Her words reminded you suddenly of the reason for your meeting with Neteyam in the first place though, and you quickly added, “I will work hard as your trainee. I’m not particularly athletic or strong, but I’ll always try my best. I don’t wait to fail again and I don’t want to bring you shame as my mentor, so I’ll pass my rites or die trying.”

Neteyam appeared taken aback by the candour with which you spoke and the severity of your tone. He gave a slow cock of his head to the side, his eyes calculating while you fought hard not to squirm at his silent assessment.

His assessing gaze only lasted several moments before the comfortable warmth of his usual expression returned. His voice was benevolent when he spoke, “No one is going to die trying anything. We will go at your pace. I may push you at times, but if it gets too much, you are at every right to voice this to me.”

Neteyam’s words were a reassurance and the thundering of your heart began to subside. Mustering up what little dregs of courage you possessed from within yourself, you lifted your head to peer into his eyes and found them void of any judgement. Their green-gold depths were open and sincere, and you perceived also a silent promise of security in them.

The lump forming in your throat hindered you from finding your word, however, and your response to Neteyam was a mute nod.

He spoke again then, the baritone of his voice rumbling delightfully through you, “I swear to you as your mentor that I will keep you safe. Your safety is my priority and you will have the protection of my body too if need be.”

Neteyam’s masculine pledge of security made parts of you squeeze in feminine appreciation, and you berated yourself internally for letting his appeal distract you.

 You watched as he extended a hand out to you and you placed your hand in his to shake it, only to feel him raise the back of it to his lips instead in a gentle kiss against your knuckles.

*** FLASHBACK END ***

A stray ember spat from the bonfire and sailed through the air towards you. You hissed and slapped at your arm where the ember made blistering contact with your bare skin. The heat of the fire suddenly felt stifling and you got to your feet, intent on heading somewhere quieter where you could be alone with your thoughts.

Great Mother, you missed him already. You were going to miss him so much.

Feminine laughter reached you and the points of your ears swivelled in that direction, your eyes following suit a moment later. You spotted one of the female warriors, Penina, giggling while she clasped on to Neteyam’s forearm as the troupe of warriors continued in their conversation. She raised herself onto the balls of her feet to whisper something in his ear before she pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek. Neteyam turned his head and gave Penina a sly smile in response.

You turned away quickly, not wanting to witness anything more. You should have clung on tighter to your heart while you still had it.

A sharp stab of sadness pricked in your chest and you silently chastised yourself for being so foolish. Neteyam was the future olo’eyktan for goodness sake. He had his pick of the females and he could court who he liked. You had known this day would come; the day when your success would mean losing his company.

Looking around you, you saw that everyone else was engrossed in their carousing and it allowed you slip away unhindered. Padding towards the appealing tranquillity of the woodland glade that surrounded the clan’s new Hometree, you found yourself a patch of soft moss amongst the bioluminescent eyaye ferns and settled yourself there.

Taking deep breaths through your nostrils, you closed your eyes and surrendered yourself to the sounds of the night; the soft pattering of water from the nearby cascades; the chirruping of insects and the occasional calls of a troop of syaksyuk in the lush canopy overhead. Beating back the soreness in your heart, you willed yourself to pray to the Great Mother, to be grateful and thankful for your achievement.

However, your mind did not appear to want to co-operate and the painful image of Penina kissing Neteyam’s cheek flashed through your consciousness again.

Being mentored by Neteyam was both your greatest blessing and your greatest curse.

After that first meeting with Neteyam, you had only gone from strength to strength under his guidance. He was a kind but firm tutor who held an unwavering belief in your abilities, despite the fact that you did not share that same confidence. He pushed you to your limits, but never beyond them and like any good mentor, he knew when to reward you with praise and when to be more critical.

You should have known you were a lost cause from the moment he had sworn to protect you during that first meeting. You should have been more careful. You should have guarded your heart with the constant reminder that he was not yours and never would be no matter how much you felt drawn to him during your lessons.

*** FLASHBACK ***

Neteyam stood at your back, his stance almost a mirror of yours as he adjusted your shooting form; legs positioned firmly apart, back straight with a strong core, bowstring drawn as you took aim at the target in the distance between the thick trunks of the trees. Your aim and accuracy had strengthened considerably in the weeks training under Neteyam. Tomorrow, you would attempt again the first rite of making a clean kill.

It was difficult to concentrate when you could feel the heat of his body radiating off him and feel his warm breaths tickling the point of one of your ears. The heat of one of his hands seared against the skin of your hip as he steadied you and the fingertips of his other hand supported the wrist of your bow arm. Unable to take your eyes off the target to confirm your suspicion for yourself, you also swore to the Great Mother that the tuft of his tail was delicately caressing the calf of your back leg.

“Whenever you’re ready, loose the arrow.” Neteyam whispered, and the purr of his voice sent a shudder through you that you hoped he did not notice.

Target in focus, you narrowed your eyes and when the instinctive urge hit, you let your arrow fly. It hurtled through the trees to embed itself dead centre of the mounted target amongst your previous attempts. The thrill of success washed through you once more and you gave a little skip on the spot in celebration.

“Seysonìltsan (well done)!” Neteyam cheered, looping an arm around your waist and pressing his cheek to yours in an affectionate nuzzle that made your face and neck flush, “You’re all set for tomorrow. You’re going to be just fine.”

Your initial joy at your success with target practice soon clouded over when you contemplated the final part of making a clean kill: A dagger through the creature’s heart to return its soul to Eywa; the part that you had failed to complete on your own during your first attempt. Rini had been forced to end the creature’s life for you.

The sound of the yerik’s pained, bleating cries still haunted your ears to this day. You had felt rotten being responsible for the arrow that had impaled its side. You had not wanted to cause it anymore pain…

Sensing the change in your mood, Neteyam ran a gentle hand down your side, “Hey, come back to me. What are you thinking about?”

Chewing on your bottom lip, ears twitching, your nervous eyes flitted to his, “Did Rini tell you why I failed this rite last time?”

A frown marred his handsome face and he shook his head, his concern evident as he snaked an arm around your shoulders to pull you against his side.

The soothing strokes of his thumb against your upper arm coaxed you to continue, “My arrow’s aim was true and I managed to impale the yerik. But I couldn’t end its life with my dagger. I don’t like to hurt things. It was in pain and all I wanted to do was make the pain stop. Of course, the pain would’ve stopped once I ended its life but the thought of stabbing it was too much for me to bear. Rini had to do it in the end. I was too weak to.”

Your last words were uttered with all the dejection that you felt and the tears of your shame stung in your downcast eyes. Something so simple, so natural in the cycle of life that all creatures shared in the Great Mother, and you could not do it. You were weak.

You felt warm fingers grasp your chin gently and your face was tilted up to meet Neteyam’s. Your eyes remained shuttered, however, and you cursed the two fat tears that squeezed their way from behind your closed lids to roll down your cheeks.

“Seyla, look at me.” Neteyam implored you, and it was only the sheer tenderness in his tone that made you brave enough to obey. Your breath was stolen from you as you met his striking eyes and his expression was full of compassion, “You’re not weak for finding it difficult to end a life. Your calling is to heal, to restore life even in the direst of circumstances when all seems lost. There is great strength in that. Empathy is not weakness. You have a big heart and I don’t want to hear you call yourself weak ever again.”

Swiping your tears from your face with the back of one hand, you sniffled softly and nodded. But your chin wobbled along with your voice as you posed your question, “What if I can’t do it tomorrow? What if I fail again?”

“Then I’ll guide your hand and we’ll do it together. And after you’ve completed your rites, you’ll never have to hunt again if you don’t want to.”

*** FLASHBACK END ***

And he had guided your hand in the end.

Neteyam’s bigger hand had enveloped yours to steady its trembling amid the bleating cries of the yerik you had felled, and he had given you the strength, the driving force that you needed, to complete your first rite.

Afterward, your adrenalin and your distress had all come to a head and he had held you in his arms where you were both crouched, comforting you as you cried.

That had been the first of your successful firsts, as you called them, and Neteyam had been there every single step of the way after that. Your first kill; your first climb to Iknimaya where you successfully tamed your ikran; your first flight; your first talioang hunt; and your first Dream Hunt. It was always his eyes that you sought out first at the end of each achievement, and your heart had always soared to find his gaze waiting to receive yours.

You were not even aware of it at first, that your heart no longer beat inside the confines of your chest. Then one day as Neteyam had graced you with another one of his magnetic smiles, you realised that your heart now beat in the hold of his hands. He had swindled it from you without you even knowing it and now it was too late to get it back.

Today had been the first day in many moons – almost seven – that you did not arise in the morning and head out to meet Neteyam. You were one of the people now. There was no more training to be had and you had felt the loss of his presence keenly during the day today.

You had thanked Neteyam last night, for all his guidance and perseverance that had led to your success. You had been weary from the exertion of your Dream Hunt, your mind still foggy from the psychoactive effects of the glow worm one had to consume as part of the rite. However, you remembered murmuring your thanks to him and falling asleep against the blissful warmth of his chest as he had carried you home to your family’s alcove.

He must feel it too… You thought to yourself. That magnetism that pushed and pulled between the two of you, surely it was not simply one-sided on your part?

Neteyam had never said anything, had never given any indication to you of wanting to address the bond that had grown between the two of you. All the smiles, the embraces, the tender nuzzles, the deliberate touches and the gentle brushing of his fingers against your skin; all the almost kisses; had you imagined it all? Did your lovesick brain infer more than there actually was to all of it?

“What are you doing here?”

The voice at your back startled you out of your skin and you jumped with an unintentional yelp.

Neteyam’s deep laughter reverberated loudly in the serenity of the glade around you and you turned to swat at the calf of one of his legs, your tail lashing crossly behind you at being alarmed. He moved to settle himself on the moss next to you and you shuffled over to make room for him where the moss was its plushest.

“What have I always told you about watching your back?” Neteyam clucked playfully, reaching out to poke you in the ribs lightly.

You recoiled from the ticklish jab, unable to stop the giggle that escaped you despite the frown you still wore due to his previous action, “I don’t really think anything dangerous will sneak up on me whilst I’m on home-ground. So you’ll forgive me, karyu (teacher), for letting my guard down.”

“You don’t think I’m dangerous?” There was a mischievous glint in Neteyam’s eyes and his tone was cheeky as he regarded you.

Oh, you knew Neteyam could be dangerous with his imposing stature and warriors’ body, corded with powerful muscle that guaranteed brute strength in a wrestling match, and promised carnal delight for a woman caged within his hold in a very different kind of match. The explicit nature of your last thought surprised you and you hoped the furious blush staining your cheeks was not obvious in the dim light of eclipse.

“Seriously though, I know you’re not one for crowds and carousing, but what are you doing hiding out here?” Neteyam queried again, and sincerity coloured his tone this time.

“Everything just got a bit much. And I’m still tired from yesterday, I think. I just wanted somewhere quiet to reflect.” You muttered softly.

The familiar musk of his scent tantalised your nose and you took a discreet inhale, savouring the comfort it brought you while you also tried simultaneously to embed it into the deepest recesses of your memory. You were not going to be around Neteyam much anymore. You had healers’ duties to attend to and he had duties as future clan leader to attend to. That certainly made for quite a lot of distance.

Another twinge of sadness pulled at you and you kept your gaze on your folded knees, unable to look at him. Wanting to deflect and distract yourself from the sombre mood that was threatening to overwhelm you, you parroted his first question back at him, “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back with the others, enjoying the party? You seemed to be quite engaged with the warriors before.”

“I saw you sneak away and I figured I’d check in with you. This is technically your party after all, to celebrate your rebirth. You sure you don’t want to head back out there? There are quite a few people who want to congratulate you.” Neteyam cajoled.

“Not right now. I’ll come back in a bit. You go on though. I’m OK, you’ve seen that no danger has befallen me.” Your attempt to be jovial fell flat even to your own ears and you felt Neteyam shift beside you, lowering his head to try and catch your eye.

“Seyla, what’s wrong? You’re upset. Has someone said something to you tonight? Hurt you? Tell me what happened and I’ll deal with them.”

Neteyam’s concern and immediate oath to defend you was moving. It was wonderful to know he still cared deeply for you despite the conclusion of your mentor-mentee relationship. His devotion to the people he cared about was one of the many things you loved about him.

Great Mother, you loved him. You were in love with him.

The sentiment threatened to choke you and you swallowed it down painfully. You were determined to keep your composure. You did not want to cry tonight in front of Neteyam, not when it was a night of celebration for you as well as for him as your mentor. You would look like an absolute ingrate and you were not about to admit to him the real reason for your melancholy either.

“Nothing untoward has happened. No one has said anything or done anything.” The words were forced from your throat and you realised with mounting horror that you were failing miserably at trying to sound normal. Your voice was unsteady and unbidden tears were pooling in your eyes.

Neteyam’s brow furrowed uneasily at your apparent distress and he shifted to face you. His large hands encircled each of your upper arms, rubbing gently in an attempt to mollify whatever turmoil you clearly felt but seemed reluctant to tell him of. “Shh it’s alright, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but you know you can tell me anything, right?”

A choked sob left you and you pawed in frustration at your wet eyes, lying through your teeth, “Ugh, I’m sorry. I’m just really tired and out of sorts. That glow worm really did a number on me.” You pushed at his forearms gently, faking a smile and urging him to return to the merriment of the party, “Go, honestly. Don’t let me ruin your evening.”

Neteyam appeared utterly unconvinced, which was testament to how well he had come to know you; how easily he could read you. He fidgeted uncomfortably then and you mused to yourself how uncharacteristic that was of him when he was usually so self-assured.

He took a slow and measured inhale, one of his hands leaving you to scratch nervously at the back of his head, “I actually wanted to talk to you about something. Something important.”

The downturned points of your ears pricked upwards with interest, his last two words piquing your curiosity, “What is it? Is it bad news?”

By Eywa, please let it not be bad news. What could be so important that he needed to speak to you right now?

Neteyam took in your worried expression, your beautiful doe-eyes shiny with emotion, and he chuckled lightly, “No, it’s not bad news. Well, it could be bad news for me, but that depends on your viewpoint on the matter.”

“What do you mean?” You queried and you both watched and felt as he took your smaller hands in his, his fingers squeezing and rubbing your palms gently comfortingly.

Licking his lips and swallowing the knot of nerves in his throat, Neteyam began to explain slowly, “You know my position within the clan as my father’s successor.”

“Yes.”

“You know that I will lead this clan as olo’eyktan when my father’s time in that position ends.”

“Yes.”

“Well, every olo’eyktan needs a tsahìk.”

You blinked perplexedly up at him. His three statements appeared rather matter-of-fact and ‘old news’ to you. It was nothing you did not know and nothing you were not already aware of. You were quite puzzled as to why Neteyam was bringing this up now. “Sorry, I don’t think I’m following you. I know all this already.”

A nervous chuckle left Neteyam then and he ran a hand down his face. He knew he was being cryptic and it was the result of his own nerves that caused him to be so. He could see you had no idea where he was going with this and he took the opportunity to tease one last time, “Have you never wondered why I was assigned as your mentor?”

You perked up at the question. Ah! This question you could relate to, “Yes! I wonder about this all the time actually. There are many other skilled hunters or warriors who could’ve trained me. I don’t understand why they designated you. Surely your skills would’ve been better used elsewhere.”

“It was my grandmother’s decision specifically. As tsahìk, she interprets the will of our Great Mother. She determines the best candidates for the future leaders of this clan.” Neteyam continued, his tone measured and he watched carefully for your reaction while you took in his words, “Seyla, you were her choice of tsakarem (future tsahìk). Of course, it was all dependent on you passing your rites, which is why no one could tell you this fact. Not even me. She assigned me as your mentor not just because of my skills, but because she wanted to see if we would get along.”

“W-What?” Your heart was galloping in your chest, your brain reeling as it tried to process the information you had just been enlightened about.

“It was such a hard secret for me to keep.” Neteyam appeared a little sheepish then and he chortled, bringing both of your hands up to his lips to press several kisses to your knuckles, “Your heart is so pure and you’re so beautiful. I grew fonder and fonder of you the more I got to know you. I wanted you to pass your rites and I knew you would with time if I could build your confidence. Now you have, and I’m so proud of you.”

A sudden burst of clarity struck you as Neteyam’s words began to sink in. Everything that had not made sense before made perfect sense now: The reason the future olo’eyktan of all people had been assigned to mentor you; the reason Neteyam had been so forward with his affection during your training; the reason Mo’at had always been so welcoming towards you learning from her, despite the unofficial mantle you had once held for so long as the ‘flop’ of the clan who may never pass your rites. There had been a bigger picture all along.

“Your grandmother wants me to be your tsahìk?”

Neteyam nodded and he reached out to cup your cheek, “Yes, if you’ll accept the position and accept me as your betrothed.”

Something dazzling white and wonderfully warm pierced through the cloud of your melancholy. You looked at Neteyam’s face, really looked at him and at the future he was presenting you with. You, tsakarem! Neteyam’s betrothed and future mate. You would stand at his side, tsahìk and olo’eyktan…

It was such an about-turn of events from what you felt moments ago that you could hardly believe it. But the sheer joy that burst within your heart was so welcome and in that moment, all was right with the world. It felt like the misshapen pieces of your wounded pride that had taken a beating after your past failures had reshaped themselves and found their place.

Beaming at Neteyam through glassy eyes that were now filling with happy tears, you laughed and the sound was bright in your ears.

Neteyam leaned in to nuzzle your cheek tenderly, his warm breath ghosting across the smooth skin there, “Please say you’ll accept and be mine. You are gifted and blessed by Eywa, and it would be an honour to have you as my tsahìk.”

“Yes. Yes, I accept.” Your giggles were wet and your arms instinctively curled around Neteyam’s neck as he lifted you in his arms to your knees in a triumphant embrace.

Neteyam drew back then, his face mere inches from yours. He nuzzled your nose lightly, “May I kiss you?”

With parted lips and a bashful nod, you absently thought to yourself that you were yet again about to experience another one of your firsts with Neteyam. Your first kiss.

His lips met yours in a tentative meld at first, the moist brush of lips an entirely new sensation to you. Neteyam pressed forward again after, claiming your lips this time in a deliberate sweep of lips and tongue that stole your breath from you and sent a spark of desire coursing through your veins.

Your earlier melancholy seemed lightyears away now in the face of what had just happened, and your heart sighed in contentment at the uplifting of its grief that had come with Neteyam’s declaration.

Not wanting to scare you with his fervent ardour, Neteyam pulled away a little to rest his forehead against yours, “By Eywa, you don’t know how long I have wanted to do that.”

“I see you, Neteyam.”

“I see you, yawntu (beloved).” He returned the sentiment, smiling as he delivered a couple more chaste kisses. He sat back on his haunches then to properly look at you, his expression turning serious then, “Will you tell me why were you upset before? I’m just concerned, that’s all.”

Rolling your lips together in mild embarrassment, you outed the truthful answer to his question, “I was sad that I wouldn’t see you every day anymore. I was missing you. But it seems I don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

Several emotions flitted their way across Neteyam’s face; surprise, compassion and then satisfaction. With a wayward smirk, he purred, “Our daytimes may be spent apart now, but our evenings, well, we’ll have to fill those, won’t we? I’m looking forward to getting to know my betrothed in a more personal manner.”

Neteyam surged forward to kiss you again, more forcefully this time, and your head craned backward under the pleasurable plundering of his mouth. You moaned lightly and when a mistimed re-angling of your head caused your teeth to clack against his, you pulled away self-consciously with an apology, “Sorry, I’m new to this. Looks like you’re still going to have to teach me, karyu.”

The impish grin that Neteyam cast you sent hot shivers down your spine and his eyes glinted with the promise of the best kind of wickedness. He placed slow kisses to your face; one to your chin, one to your mouth and then to each of your eyes before he murmued, “Oh, there is so much that I plan to teach you, yawntu. And we have a lifetime to explore all that.”

He punctuated his words with a searing, open-mouthed kiss to the column of your neck and the suction he applied there made your toes curl into the plush moss beneath you.

With your eyes closed and your mouth slack-jawed from the pleasure his lips were wreaking where he worshipped your neck and chest, you knew without a doubt that today was just the beginning of the first of many firsts with Neteyam.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~*** Author's Note:

If you've made it this far, THANK YOU for reading! <3 How did I do with this? It was very tricky to write at points, as I had to be mindful of the POV and the pronoun usage.

Leave me a line with your thoughts! <3 Could you relate to the protagonist in this? Did you feel what she felt? All the angst, her shyness, the fluff at the end...

On a side note, I love Mo'at always playing matchmaker. I always seem to write her with some cheek in her personality.

Want more Neteyam & Seyla? Check out Part II below which has a very steamy spice-extension. ;) Next Chapter: Part II - I Like Your Stars Better

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Revealed love

Hii I hope you enjoy this Oliver Bearman on-shot to celebrate that next year he'll drive for F1 :)

We both met at a very young age, you had just moved into town and switched schools and that's how we met and as I close my eyes a rush of memories come flushing in.

It was a bright, sunny morning, and the schoolyard buzzed with the usual energy of children ready to start their day. As I walked towards my classroom, I noticed a new face among the familiar ones. He was standing alone near the entrance, clutching his backpack nervously, his brown eyes scanning the crowd with a mixture of hope and apprehension.

Something about his uncertain stance tugged at my heart. I could see he was trying to muster the courage to take that first step into unfamiliar territory. Without a second thought, I walked up to him, my curiosity and innate kindness propelling me forward. "Hi, I'm Y/N," I said with a smile, extending my hand. "You must be new here." He looked at me, his eyes wide with surprise, and then a shy smile crept across his face. "Yeah, I’m Ollie," he replied, shaking my hand. His grip was tentative but warm. "Welcome to our school, Ollie. Come on, I'll show you around," I offered, sensing his relief as he fell into step beside me. As we walked, I pointed out the different classrooms, the playground, and introduced him to a few of my friends. The initial awkwardness faded quickly, replaced by easy conversation and shared laughter. Ollie had a quiet charm about him, and his shyness soon gave way to a sense of humour that matched my own. By the time the bell rang, signalling the end of recess, it felt like we had known each other forever.

From that day on, Ollie and I were inseparable. We navigated the ups and downs of school life together and his career as a racer, our bond grew stronger with each passing year. We shared secrets, dreams, and countless adventures, always there for each other no matter what.

Ollie wasn't just the new kid anymore; he was my best friend, my confidant, and an irreplaceable part of my life. As I think about that day, I can't help but smile, grateful for the twist of fate that brought us together and the enduring friendship that throughout the years has grown into a crush.

"Are you okay? You've been very quiet tonight," Oliver asks, concern evident in his voice. "Yeah, just lost in my thoughts, thinking about us actually and how much has changed since we met, and even though I'm so happy that next year you'll be in Formula 1, everything will change." I say as I look into his eyes. "Y/N, you are one of the most important people in my life, and I understand how you feel. It's terrifying, but at the same time, you know it's something I have to do." Hope fills my heart as I hear his words, until they are crushed. "Besides, you are my best friend. I could never forget about you," he says nervously. I'm speechless, my thoughts a mess. "I understand, Oliver. If you'll excuse me, I need some air."

As you walk onto the patio, the cool evening air does little to soothe the turmoil inside you. Footsteps quickly follow, and before you can take another step, a hand gently catches your arm. "Y/N, wait," Oliver says, his voice laced with urgency. "I know there's something more. You only call me Oliver when you're angry."

That's it. You can't hold it in any longer. Words pour out, driven by months of pent-up emotion. "I'm not angry, Oliver. I'm exhausted. I keep waiting for you, but you never come. Is it all in my head?" Your voice wavers, the vulnerability in your words hanging heavy in the air.

Oliver's expression softens, his eyes filled with a mixture of pain and regret. "No, it's not in your head," he says quietly. "I… I've been trying to protect you."

"Protect me?" you repeat, your confusion mingling with frustration.

He takes a deep breath, his hand still on your arm, as if afraid you'd disappear if he let go. "Yes. From everything. From the scrutiny of the F1 world, from the chaos that surrounds my life. I didn't want to ruin our friendship, Y/N. I didn't want to risk losing you."

Tears prick your eyes as you look at him, the weight of his words sinking in. "I don't care about any of that, Oliver. I care about you. I've loved you for so long, and it hurts to think you don't feel the same."

His grip tightens ever so slightly, his eyes locking onto yours. "I've loved you too, Y/N. From the moment we met, you've been the most important person in my life. I thought keeping my feelings hidden was the right thing to do, to keep you safe. But I can't keep hiding it anymore."

You take a shaky breath, the raw honesty in his words giving you strength. "So where does that leave us?"

Oliver steps closer, his other hand coming up to cup your cheek. "It leaves us right here, together. You'll never have to be alone. I love you, and that's all I really know. We'll face everything together, no matter what."

Tears finally spill over as you lean into his touch, your heart swelling with relief and joy. "I love you too," you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion.

He pulls you into a tender embrace, his lips finding yours in a kiss that feels like coming home. The world around you fades away, and for the first time in a long time, everything feels right. In that moment, under the stars on the patio, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you and Oliver will face them together, your love stronger than anything else.