#but they consider each other brothers and were raised on that themselves

[worstloki]

People can ship Thorki for all the kinky reasons they want (although personally I’m not a fan) but I wish they’d stop using the argument “well they’re not ACTUALLY related/brothers” to justify it. It just sounds like a secret admission to thinking raising an adopted kid doesn’t make them a real member of the family :(

as per my last tags:

that's why if you say it's incest im like yeah ok but if you say it's not incest im still like yeah ok. pseudo-incest? sure, im not picky. everyone's got personal views on what incest is/isn't defined as.

the only part that matters when it comes to the ship i think is whether or not they'd be moaning the word brother in bed and the answer is irrevocably: yes

[katakaluptastrophy]

I think what's so interesting about Gideon as a narrator at the anniversary dinner is the fact that there's clearly tensions that she's just not picking up on because she's only there to eat a dessert.

But these people are all the immensely powerful leaders of the Houses and consider themselves to be in competition for literal godlike powers and the favour of the emperor.

There's so many little snippets that are potentially intriguing: why is Teacher trying to prime the Ninth to consider the Fifth a threat? Why are the Third and the Sixth "sizing each other up like prizefighters"? The Fifth absolutely knew what they were doing when they sat the teen heads of the opposing cults near each other.

Through Gideon's lens, Magnus' speech is a little awkward jokey thing. But...the seneschal of the House that is known to be actively trying to absorb another House is saying it's such a shame they're all so remote from each other and what do they all have in common (and it's so quiet you "could have heard a hair flutter to the floor") - that had to feel a bit different to people who aren't Gideon.

Palamedes' is dissecting the meaning of "Master Warden" and at one point compares it to a prison warden. 'Dulcinea' asking about whether Magnus and Abigail have children is perhaps less small talk and rather more pointedly political. Harrow's apparently stilted conversation with Protesilaus is clearly her actually probing his limitations like he's a bad Chat GPT-run chatbot.

And then 'Dulcinea' tells Gideon she liked the dinner because it was "useful". In her typical "I never lied to you" way, Cyth wasn't lying when she said Abigail had to die because of her hobby - Abigail Pent let loose on the Facility would have risked blowing Cyth's cover sky high. But what does a Canaan House look like where after the dinner party, the Fifth go down to the facility, get a key, and survive to continue their 'the Houses are going to get along or else' agenda? We've seen Fifth House soft power on a smaller scale in HTN: and it looks like inviting a teenager round for coffee, lulling her into a false sense of security with small talk, and then physically preventing her from leaving the room until she does what you want, while smiling the entire time. A series of little coffee chats could probably have led to a lot of cooperation in Canaan House, one way or another.

Gideon jokes about Silas marrying Ianthe because of their similar colour pallete, but it does raise the fact that there seems to be some tension around the Third, its succession, and the *point* of Ianthe. Why is Silas openly saying Ianthe should have died at birth? Combined with Judith's comments in the Cohort Intelligence Files about succession on the Third, it feels like there's something else being said here that Gideon isn't picking up on.

And of course, Harrow wasn't the only one desperate to become a Lyctor because her con was unsustainable. Presumably at some point Corona and Ianthe would be expected to marry, or at least take on more separate roles as Corona prepared to take over the throne and Ianthe was funneled off elsewhere. At some point, their package deal would have become unsustainable and Corona's cover would have been blown. But much as Harrow wants to become a Lyctor so she can reveal the state of the Ninth without repercussions, Ianthe is probably in part motivated to become a Lyctor for the same reason. Because otherwise, what would Ianthe's expected role have been? Amidst the suggestion of anxiety about the Idan succession, the dinner party also presents the fact that the reason Abigail and Magnus' infertility isn't a succession crisis for the ruling family of the Fifth is that Abigail's younger brother dutifully married in his early 20s and had kids. We know there are branch families in Ida - Babs is from one. He may be a prince, but he's not treated well, and you do get the sense that the stakes to stay in power in Ida are high.

We don't learn anything about the political situation in the Houses themselves during HTN or NTN, but in the wake of Canaan House, you have to suspect there are a number of tensions and concerns.

[milswrites]

Happy Ending

Based on this request

Pairing: Azriel X Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel's brothers remind him that he deserves happiness too.

Warnings: An equal amount of fluff and angst.

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: I wrote this while in a massive slump so I’m scared to post this lol. Consider this my advanced apology in case this isn’t very good.

Azriel was spellbound; the male finding himself unable to do anything but bask in the majesty of your ethereal form. Admiration pooling in the shadowsinger's eyes as he absorbed the enchanting glow of your sun-kissed skin.

He watched you.

Mouth parting in awe as his hazel eyes lingered over your soft figure as you rose from the picnic blanket. Your beauty likening that of the Mother herself as the radiant light of the afternoon sun encircled the crown of your head like a lucent halo.

He watched you.

His usually stoic lips upturned into a gentle smile as a giggling Nyx ran into your waiting arms. Heart fluttering uncontrollably as he watched the young boy place a loving kiss onto your cheek before you reciprocated the gesture with a beaming grin.

He watched you.

Because if he didn't, then he was sure to wake; with you only the object of his wildest dreams.

~~~

"You're staring again," Cassian chimed, a wicked smirk crossing his face as he propped himself up from the blanket he was laying on in order to face a flustered Azriel, "It's starting to get a little creepy."

"I am not staring!" Azriel hissed through clenched teeth. And yet, despite having been called out for it by his brother, Azriel's eyes failed to leave your glowing form as you walked away from where the males were sat to head towards the river's edge alongside Feyre and Nesta.

"Did you know your wings twitch when you're lying brother?" Cassian teased, chuckling as he ducked his head in order to dodge the cushion a disgruntled Azriel had thrown his way. The shadowsinger managing to tear his eyes from you for long enough to send a menacing glare in his brother's direction.

"I mean, can you really blame her for not acknowledging you, Az?" Rhysand asked with a snigger, violet eyes dancing with mirth as he playfully nudged Azriel's shoulder with his own, "it's not your fault that the heir of the Night Court is just as charming as his father."

Unimpressed by Rhysand's egocentric comment, Azriel and Cassian shifted their gaze from where the group of females were playing with Nyx down by the river to look towards each other. Their apathetic brows raising in union before the two males proceeded to launch their cushions at Rhysand's face.

Scoffing at the shrill cry which followed, Azriel shook his head as he turned his attention back to you. The ghost of a smile working its way onto the shadowsinger's lips as he watched you hold on to Nyx's hands in order to steady the child as he paddled in the shallows. His heart swelling at the dulcet sound of your cheery laughter as the squealing boy playfully splashed the flowing water towards you.

Unfortunately Azriel's watchful admiration didn't last for long, Cassian's tentative voice once more breaking the silence of an otherwise peaceful afternoon, "Az ?. . ."

"Don't push me Cass," Azriel warned, eyes rolling as they briefly flickered towards the general in disapproval, "or cauldron help me, that stone Nyx is throwing won't be the only thing sinking to the bottom of the river."

"Oh sure, my lips are sealed," Cassian shrugged dismissively as he moved to lay back down, voice laced with amusement as he offhandedly added, "I won't even mention the fact that your shadows have taken a little trip down to the river to visit a certain someone."

Azriel's attention snapped back towards the body of water where - just as Cassian had noted - two rogue shadows had taken it upon themselves to curl around not only the tiny heir, but also you. The shadowsinger's heart sinking to his stomach as his wide eyes took in the disobedient shadow which had lovingly snaked its way around the curve of your waist.

A sputtering Azriel worked to tug the insubordinate shadow away from you, cursing as it refused to budge from where it was comfortably resting. The smoky tendril seeming to have a mind of its own as it stubbornly ignored its master's fretful call.

This movement didn't go unnoticed by you. Your curious gaze dropping to the shadow which was tenderly embracing your waist, a soft smile gracing your lips as you lifted your bright eyes to meet Azriel's own panicked ones. The bashful male blushing a deep shade of red as you cheerfully waved in his direction.

Azriel sheepishly waved back, a crooked smile stretching across his reddened face as he nervously uttered under his breath, "Cauldron boil me."

"I don't get it," Rhysand started, brows knitting together in confusion as he observed Azriel's failed efforts of trying to reign in his unruly shadows, "you obviously like her, and it's clear your shadows do too . . . So why haven't you done anything?"

"It's never come up," Azriel justified with a shrug, clearing his throat in a poor attempt of acting casual, "we're both busy people, sometimes it's just easier to stay friends."

Cassian snorted at Azriel's words, lips curling into a devilish grin as he chided his brother, "Liar. Your wings are twitching again."

Azriel rolled his eyes, wings curling in defense as he reasoned, "Look I don't even know if she's interested in -"

"Bullshit" Rhysand interjected, scoffing at the inaccuracy of Azriel's traitorous thoughts.

"Rhys-"

"Az, she is totally in love with you."

"But how do you even-"

"Azriel!" Rhysand exclaimed, resting a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder in order to ground him, "only a fool would look at the way she looks at you and think that she doesn't feel the same."

A shaky breath rattled in Azriel's chest, his dejected hazel eyes looking up to meet the violet irises of his brother's concerned stare, "It doesn't matter. Even if she does like me . . . I'm not good enough for her."

"Not good enough?" Cassian questioned with an uncertain laugh, pulling Azriel's attention from Rhysand to himself, "Az, you're a six-foot-four Illyrian with immense power and an - admittedly - impressive wingspan. I think it's safe to say that you're good enough for anyone."

Azriel released a sad laugh at Cassian's misunderstanding, the shadowsinger taking a moment to close his eyes and inhale deeply before speaking, "Thanks Cass, but that's not what I meant. I just . . . I think she deserves someone who is worthy of her love."

"You think you're unworthy?" Cassian asked in surprise, while, in the same breath, Rhysand reassured, "But you are worthy, Az."

"No," Azriel disagreed with a low shake of his head, his sorrowful eyes returning to where you were wading through the water with Nyx safely held between your arms, "she's everything good about the world and I won't ruin that - I can't . . . Sometimes perfect things are better left untouched."

"Az, why would you even think like that?" Cassian pressed in disbelief, hurt crossing his features as he listened to the shadowsinger's deprecating words.

Azriel's brows pulled together in shame, expression forlorn as he began to explain, "The things I've done? . . . The things I'm capable of doing? She doesn't need to be exposed to that life. Cass, she deserves better than me."

Rhysand guffawed at Azriel's remark, his head thrown back in glee as he clutched at his chest. Even Cassian found humor in the situation, the male hiding his deep chuckle behind a half-hearted cough, wiping faux tears from his eyes as the High Lord stated, "That Az, is the stupidest thing I have ever heard."

"I'm glad you guys find my insecurities amusing."

"We hear you Az - really, we do," Rhysand consoled his brother, the male's laughter simmering into a supportive smile as he rested a comforting hand on Azriel's knee, "I mean, you don't really think that it was easy for us did you?"

His words peaked Azriel's interest, the shadowsinger's pained expression morphing into one of surprised curiosity as he quirked a questioning brow at his brother, "Really? But I thought-"

"Come on Az, be serious. Do you think a day goes by where I truly believe I'm worthy of Feyre?" Rhysand asks, his wistful gaze moving down to the river where a beaming Feyre was teaching an excitable Nyx how to skip stones, "But that doesn't stop me from working my damn ass off every day to try and be the mate that she deserves."

"Yeah, just look at Nesta and I. We're far from perfect," Cassian commented, tears of joy lining the general's eyes upon seeing Nesta's glowing smile as she cheered their nephew on from the river's bank, "we fight like animals half of the time, admittedly it's mostly down to me saying things that I don't mean to say . . ."

As if sensing her mate's loving stare, Nesta's eyes moved to meet his own. The female sending a playful wink Cassian's way, earning a soft chuckle from the male, "but she always makes sure to tell me when I'm out of line, just as she expects me to do the same for her."

Azriel nodded in understanding, the self-placed shame he had once felt due to his lack of self-worth was now directed towards the fact he had never known what obstacles his brother's have had to overcome on their quest for happiness. Guilt swimming in the shadowsinger's eyes as he confessed, "I never knew you guys felt the same way."

Cassian smiled fondly at his brother, a strong arm moving to wrap around Azriel's shoulders as he gave the male a comforting squeeze, "Relationships aren't about one person being more deserving than the other Az, they're about balance . . . They're about loving someone so deeply that you want to make yourself a better person for them."

"You'll get there" Rhysand promised, his confident gaze working to uplift Azriel's spirit, "you just have to believe that you deserve happiness too."

"That sounds easier said than done" Azriel remarked flatly. And yet, despite his words, the shadowsinger was unable to hide the way in which his lips had started to twitch into a hopeful smile.

"It's not when you've found the person worth taking the risk for," Rhysand answered, his eyes shimmering with sincerity as he gestured towards you with his head, "And I think you've already got that bit covered."

A light blush dusted Azriel's cheeks, a timid laugh slipping from the male's lips as his adoring gaze turned back to you, "She is pretty great isn't she?"

"Pretty great?" Cassian asked with a snort, a teasing grin working its way onto the general's face, "Az if you don't ask her out soon, Nesta and I would be more than willing to steal her from you."

Azriel scowled at his brother, eyes narrowing as he opened his mouth to spit back a retort. Yet you beat him to it, the shadowsinger's words catching on the tip of his tongue as your soft voice called out to the group of males, "Are you guys just going to sit there gossiping all afternoon or are you going to come and join us?"

Cassian readily jumped to his feet, the male wasting no time in eagerly setting off in your direction. Lips pulled into a scheming smirk as he yelled back to you, "Be right over sunshi-"

Unable to finish his sentence, a strangled yelp fell from Cassian's mouth. The male clumsily tumbling to the ground as a rogue shadow slipped away from the general's ankle unnoticed. Azriel chuckling merrily as he passed the downed male with a grin, "Graceful as always, Cass."

~~~

Azriel had never seen a siren before. But here, sat on the bank as he watched you elegantly glide through the river as though it was second nature, the male was certain that your beauty - even in the water- was unmatched.

And just when Azriel thought you couldn't get any more radiant, he found himself enraptured by your celestial grace. His hazel eyes drawn to the delicate droplets of water which glistened on your plush lips thanks to the sun's amber rays.

You were beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Rhysand had picked the most beautiful spot on the continent for your outing today, and yet even the breathtaking scenery of the lush surroundings paled in comparison to you.

"Hey Az?" your gentle voice drew the male from his stupor, the lovesick fog in his affectionate gaze clearing just enough for Azriel to see your expectant eyes looking up at him from where you were swaying in the water, "Are you going to come in?"

Azriel's eyes grew wide at your question, cheeks burning red as the male searched for a suitable answer, "Oh, uh . . . you want me to -?"

A low groan of frustration sounded next to Azriel, an exasperated Rhysand roughly pushing the shadowsinger to stand as he whispered with a hiss, "Az, just get in the damn water."

Shrinking under the anticipatory stares of his family, Azriel swiftly removed his boots before awkwardly shuffling towards the river's edge. Cautious, he dipped a tentative toe into the flowing water before pulling back with an alarmed cry, wings curling in shock at the frigid temperature of the river, "I don't know if I ca-"

"Oh for cauldron's sake" Cassian huffed behind Azriel, a heavy hand falling onto the male's shoulder before he shoved the shadowsinger in.

Azriel had no time to react, a panicked shriek slipping from his lips as he forcefully crashed into the freezing water. Limbs flailing uselessly as he worked to make his way towards the surface, the shadowsinger's control slipping as the current worked against his feeble actions.

Relief was delivered in the form of your tender touch, your gentle hands moving to support the male as he gathered his wits and acclimated to the - somewhat - soothing chill of the river. Azriel's eyes blinking open only for him to be greeted by your warming smile looking back at him.

"Hi" you whispered, softly giggling at Azriel's uneasy expression. Eyes shining with adoration as you gently moved to wrap your arms around Azriel's shoulders in order to steady the fumbling male, "thank you for joining me."

"Hi" Azriel replied breathlessly, his cheeks still burning with a heated blush despite the cooling nature of the water which surrounded him. Noticing your close proximity, the shadowsinger gulped nervously. The male helpless in resisting his shadows control as they worked to pull his slightly trembling hands to rest against the curve of your waist.

Azriel now safe within your hold, the two of you happily bobbed along with the current. All thoughts of your watchful friends long forgotten as you allowed yourselves to become lost within the moment. Azriel's heart beating wildly as your ardent gaze never failed to leave his flustered face.

And it was here, tenderly wrapped within your comforting embrace, that Azriel allowed himself to wonder if Rhysand had been right all along about your supposed affections. The shadowsinger realizing that perhaps he needn't have worried about whether you would be able to love him - because maybe you already did.

"Hey sunshine!" Cassian's startling shout broke the silence which had comfortably settled between the pair of you, the general's voice filled with mischief as he teasingly called, "Az has something he wanted to ask you!"

Stunned, Azriel blanched at his words. A string of expletives falling from the shadowsinger's lips as he turned his anxious gaze towards you. The unsteady beating of his heart thundered in his ears at the daunting sound of your encouraging hum.

"Uh . . . um, I just wanted to . . ." Azriel's apprehensive gaze shifted towards his brother who was waiting on the bank with his head hung into the palm of his hand, panic building in his chest as the male found himself lost for words, "I was just wondering if you wanted . . . uh-"

"Yes Azriel," you beamed, softly nodding along to Azriel's garbled speech, "The answer is yes. I would love to go on a date with you."

Wasting no time, you sealed your lips against his own. Using the arms you had tightly wrapped around his shoulders to pull the flustered male closer towards you. Smiling into the kiss as Azriel's lips began to tentatively move against your own.

The shadowsinger clutched onto you as though you were his lifeline, fingers firmly pressed into your waist as he held you flush against him - lips chasing after yours as though he would surely drown without your sweetened kiss.

Yet the kiss was only fleeting, you having pulled away at the sound of your friend's ecstatic cheers. Azriel released a laugh of disbelief as you moved to rest your forehead against his own, your eyes bright and full of love as you breathlessly whispered, "Finally. I was wondering how long it would take you to ask me that."

"What?" Azriel asked in astonishment, his swollen lips parting in surprise, "You've been waiting for . . . me?"

"You're beautiful, Az" you exclaimed as though it was obvious, a soft gasp escaping from the male's lips at your words, "So unbelievably beautiful."

"But I- I'm . . ."

You hushed the male with a swift peck to his lips, "Just kiss me again, Az."

"With pleasure" Azriel answered with a smile, bringing his lips to meet your own.

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗥𝗜 𝗚𝗜𝗥𝗟

　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x guide!reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is the tour guide for the Sturniolo Triplets on their safari trip.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: No.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Y/N was the type of girl passionate about wild animals, having spent her entire childhood and adolescence reading different books and watching millions of documentaries about each species. She felt comfortable around them, like she was finally home.

So it was no surprise to her family and friends when she got her first job at age 17 on a safari, and not just any safari, but the one in San Diego. She started as a simple intern and progressed through the ranks until she officially became, at the age of 20, the head tourist guide of the place.

So it wasn't news to her when she was chosen by the safari owner to be the tour guide for three famous YouTubers who paid to have 24 hours of the space just for them.

Despite finding it a bit exaggerated to have an entire safari to themselves, the girl was excited to meet them and be able to spend more time than usual explaining everything she knew about each animal that interested them.

Y/N spent the entire early morning walking around the different animal places, checking if everything was in its right place and organized as it should be, wanting the safari to be in perfect condition to be enjoyed and recorded.

The girl arrived at the zipline point 5 minutes late. It was no surprise, considering her stop in the tiger area, which she loved with all her being.

"Hi!" Y/N greeted as she approached the three figures already being prepared by the equipment. "You must be the Sturniolo, right?" She began, offering her hand to the one in the white jacket, who was already ready and closest to her. He shook it happily, giving her a wide smile.

"Are you our tour guide?" He asked hopefully, receiving a nod from the girl, who returned the smile. "Awesome, I'm Nick, and this is Matt and Chris." The boy pointed to the other two, making Y/N look at them quickly.

She felt a chill run up her spine and her heart skip a beat as she met Chris's eyes, he was obviously very similar to his brothers, but very different at the same time, and his unique features were what captivated Y/N instantly.

The girl forced herself to smile quickly, afraid of leaving an awkward atmosphere by staring at him, raising her hand to properly greet the other two.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N, and I will accompany you during the first hours of your 24 hours of safari." Y/N spoke, traveling her eyes across the three of them. "Now you will go through the zipline, and then we will enter the safari! Don't worry, the trip is super safe, and the instructors are very qualified." The girl explained as she gestured with her hands, briefly pointing to the staff who would help them down.

The boys quickly thanked her, Chris giving her a big smile as he nodded at her words, appearing to be excited.

She walked away momentarily, letting them talk to each other and to the camera - which she only then noticed a fourth person holding and filming them.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Oh, Y/N! I see her, that's our guide." Chris exclaimed to the camera, quickly turning towards the girl and skidding down the slope, walking at a fast pace. "Hi, Y/N!" He spoke loudly as he approached, smiling big and waving his right hand, followed by his brothers.

The girl - who had her back to them - quickly turned around when she heard her name being called, a smile instantly appearing on her face when she saw Chris approaching her, her heart beating faster. Yes, she had a crush on the boy she was going to guide on the safari where she worked.

"Hi Chris, boys!" She greeted, waving and waiting for them to come closer.

"Before we start, is it okay for you to be filmed and appear on our channel? We're doing these 24 hours, especially for our subscribers, so we want to film as much as possible." Nick asked, pointing at the camera briefly.

"Oh, sure! No problem." Her response came gently, her eyes traveling to the camera. "Well, we have a lot of animals that we can visit today, but given the schedule, some will stay for tomorrow. Like the tiger-"

"Do you have a tiger?" Chris turned to her, eyes wide and mouth open in disbelief.

The girl smiled at his cuteness, nodding her head.

"Yes, we have." A feeling of pride filled her chest. She loved talking about her tigers. "But today we'll see more animals released, and tomorrow we'll see the ones that need to be locked up, okay?"

She stopped, waiting for the three of them to agree.

"Did you guys hear that?" Chris asked in a whisper-like shout, shaking Nick slightly with his enthusiasm.

"Yes, kid, we heard." The older man responded with a smile, rolling his eyes and patting Chris's hand on his arm.

"Any questions before we continue on?" Y/N asked, looking at them quickly.

"No questions!" The three responded almost simultaneously.

"Did you enjoy the zipline trip?" The girl asked as the five started walking towards the first stop.

"Yes, I was quite scared at first, but it was an incredible experience." Matt said, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.

"Yes, I felt huge shivers in my stomach, but it gives you a feeling of euphoria afterward." Chris nodded, tucking his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie and increasing his stride so that he was practically next to Y/N.

"It's a really unique experience, I love that it's the biggest zipline in the USA and that you have such a paradisiacal view." She pointed to the horizon as they stopped near some telescopes, moving to the side so they could get a full view of the landscape.

She allowed them to enjoy it for a few minutes, watching them from a little distance.

"You can take it and look through the telescope if you want." Y/N indicated as she saw Chris staring at the telescope on the right, approaching him slowly.

He raised his blue eyes, exchanging glances with her for a few seconds before looking to the telescope again, his cheeks taking on a reddish hue.

"I thought I needed to pay to use them."

"No, go ahead, Chris." Y/N smiled gently, lifting the bottom of the object and pointing at it with her chin, watching as the boy walked closer and placed his hand next to hers, bending down slightly to fit his eye into the right space.

"Thanks."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"You can sit in the front with me if you want." Y/N said as they approached the safari "car" she would drive through the route, turning momentarily to Chris. "So your brothers can sit in the back seats and hear my voice better." She quickly added, fidgeting with her fingers nervously. She didn't want to sound unprofessional.

"Sure, that's fine with me." The brunette nodded, ignoring the smiles and looks that his brothers furtively sent him.

"Let's go then."

The five of them arranged their seats quickly, Chris getting comfortable on the passenger seat. He glanced at Y/N from the corner of his eye, pressing his lips into a thin line to keep from smiling.

Her perfume hit his nostrils hard as the car started moving, the wind doing a great job of making Chris dizzy from the delicious scent, holding himself back from getting closer and taking in a breath of air.

"This is Eminem. She has two younger brothers-"

"Oh, she's a rapper." Chris muttered, suddenly turning around and imitating rap gestures for his brothers, getting a laugh from them and Y/N, who shook her head in denial as she slowly stopped the car.

"Almost that." The girl joined in the fun.

"Can we get close to the animals?" Nick asked from the backseat, leaning against the back of the driver's seat and looking at them.

"No, I would lose my job." Y/N scoffed, letting out a laugh before speeding up again.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"And here we have the giraffes, my second favorite safari attraction." Y/N pointed out, slowing the car down again, pointing to the group of animals near them. "Hi babies." She turned to them, greeting the ones she spent hours of her day petting and keeping company.

"Hi!" Nick followed Y/N's action, Chris and Matt saying the same afterward, smiles on their faces.

"You really love them." Chris commented briefly, leaning closer to Y/N so that only she heard him, the sound of Nick and Matt's voices muffled out from behind.

"I practically grew up in zoos and safaris. These animals are my life. That's basically what I love about this job." She began, her tone full of directness. "I know everyone sees them as simple animals, but they are more than that." Y/N explained, looking away from the giraffes and turning to Chris, momentarily getting lost in his eyes. "They're not just animals. They're intelligent... I mean, you can see there's some higher order thinking going on... Right?"

She expected to get a judgmental look or a "how crazy are you" say, but instead, Chris just smiled big and nodded slightly.

"I understand you. It's no wonder that our brand's new merch is with animal prints." The boy said, quickly lifting his hoodie and showing the t-shirt underneath, where it had a perfect drawing of a giraffe in the bottom corner. "And full of giraffes."

"Wow, that's beautiful!" Y/N spoke, her eyes wide as she looked at the t-shirt. It was so cool that they made something of their own signature inspired by animals.

It suddenly made sense to her why they paid for 24 hours there alone.

"If you're nice enough, I might consider giving you one of these later in the day." Chris teased, pulling down his hoodie and smirking at the girl.

Y/N rolled her eyes, shaking her head as she let out a low laugh.

"I'll earn it."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"Oh no, birds." Nick muttered as he noticed Y/N slowing down near the bird area, receiving laughter in response.

"These birds are incredible, I promise they don't come close to street doves or conventional ones." Y/N turned around, looking at Nick with a smile on her face. "Every day, they will sing to their partner to show that they're still in love." She commented, looking at Chris for a few seconds, before focusing on the birds behind him, feeling her cheeks heat up.

"Wow, we need that nowadays." Matt commented briefly. His eyes focused on the animals as he had a small smile of admiration on his face.

"Yeah, we really do." Chris nodded, his eyes fixed on Y/N. She swallowed hard at the intense staring, tearing her eyes away from the birds and returning her attention to the front.

An embarrassed smile appeared on her face, and she started the engine again while shaking her head, he really had a lot of boldness.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

After some small explanations on some specific animals, Y/N decided to make a bathroom stop near one of the cliffs that gave a view to one of the green landscapes.

Nick and Matt went to the bathroom while the man who was filming decided to take photos of some specific spots nearby, leaving Chris and Y/N alone - perhaps on purpose.

"I know we just met, and I don't know you, but is there any way I could take you out sometime soon?" The brunette approached Y/N in slow steps, releasing his question softly as he positioned himself next to her, facing forward. His hands were resting comfortably in the front pocket of his hoodie, and his eyes remained fixed on the greenery in front of him.

Despite being confident, he was afraid of receiving a big "no" for an answer.

"Are you always this straightforward with strangers?" The girl responded, turning to face him and resting her hips on the wooden fence, crossing her arms and watching him with her eyebrows raised.

She swore she saw his adam's apple move as he swallowed hard, not expecting that comeback. Chris opened his mouth to apologize but was cut off by the girl, who laughed.

"I'm just kidding. Saturday, I have the night off." Y/N answered his first question, watching Chris relax his stiff posture and a smile of relief fill his face.

He turned to her as he took his phone out of his pants pocket, unlocking the screen and opening the contacts app.

"Can I get your number?" The boy asked, offering the device to the girl. "S-so we can schedule dinner." He added quickly, smiling awkwardly.

It had been so many years since he last had the courage to make a move on a girl, and he felt like a complete idiot. But that girl moved him in a different way, and Chris would do anything to get to know her better.

taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturniolho @islalovesmatt

(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)

[nyctophicbtch]

Outsiders - Neteyam

[ Neteyam x Metkayina!reader ]

Summary: Despite your uninterests in getting to know the Omatikaya guests, you’d somehow managed to capture the attention of the eldest brother and Neteyam messed up by doing the one thing your brother told him not to. Plus Lo’ak being the captain of the ship.

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2,033

Just as expected, there were no particular signs of interest your siblings found in you when Omatikayas showed up on the shore, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious upon their arrival.

“She will show up.” You faintly heard Rotxo quietly say to Ao’nung as you approached the commotion.

A glimpse of your father and mother speaking to an Olo'eyktan had you pushing through the crowd to get a better view. You could see your sister already examining the outsiders alongside your brother, being fairly kinder than he was.

“See,” remarked Rotxo as he spotted you making your way over to them.

Their banter over you was not uncommon. It never bothered you and you could care less with what they were whispering about now when you knew they had no ill intentions. Instead, you shifted your attention to the family standing before you and eyed each of them individually.

The littlest one was hiding behind her mother’s leg, the other girl looked exhausted and the younger boy had his eyes glancing at your sister too often to your annoyance.

You glanced at the eldest just as he did too, noticing you for the first time. The corners of his lips curved upwards to form a subtle smile in an attempt to seem friendly, which others might have missed but your brothers didn’t.

It wasn’t the smartest friendly attempt, considering how it only deepened the distaste of your brother into sneers and scowls.

“If he hasn’t already, he’s going to take interest in you,” whispered Ao’nung, though he didn’t seem pleased to know that. “You’re alluring. Stay away.”

“I won’t even do anything!”

“Exactly.”

“Shh,” interrupted Tsireya.

You shot a glare towards your brother in annoyance. He knew you wouldn’t even be interested in seeing them, let alone talking to them, yet somehow he was so sure that they’d approach you on their own

“They won’t even care, Ao’nung.” You had been so busy furiously thinking of arguments against your brother that the call of your name spooked you.

“They will teach you our ways,” your father said, earning immediate complaints from your brother whilst Tsireya obliged and wasted no time in leading the guests.

There was no doubt that your sister could handle them, and your siblings wouldn’t expect you to be interested in teaching them either. And they weren’t wrong. You’d prefer entertaining the kids running around the sand than guiding them.

“Where’s your other sister?” asked Kiri when she noticed your absence.

Neteyam hung back with Lo’ak as their parents busied themselves gazing at the village. The place still felt foreign to them, and even more so when they knew they’d be staying here.

“Doing something else. She’s not used to outsiders.” Tsireya did not stop to reply, the words coming off her tongue as if she had practiced it a thousand times.

Lo’ak raised his brows at the mention of another sister. He was too caught up fuming at Rotxo and Ao’nung to even notice you, but he doubted any of them were used to outsiders either.

“The quiet one.” Neteyam replied to his unspoken question. “The interesting one.”

“Go anywhere near her and we’ll tie you up with your baby tail.”

“Relax, she’s all yours.” Neteyam held his hands up in defense. He didn’t understand why they were getting so defensive over you although he barely even looked your way. Lo’ak was ogling at Tsireya and they didn’t seem too bothered.

Something was off about you, especially when you’d so rarely make yourself visible to any of them for days. He would’ve expected the daughter of the Olo'eyktan to be difficult to miss, especially when they all expected you to help teach them the Metkayina ways. And to be truthful, you just enjoyed doing your own thing that does not involve the outsiders.

“Father’s expecting all of us to join them.” Your annoyance was clearly visible. You weren’t even needed. They could handle this on their own without you, and your father knew that.

“Fine.”

-

You left them alone for two minutes and somehow they were already taunting each other when you came back. Your sister was called to help mother, much to your dismay, and you were putting back the saddles of the ilu.

“Lo’ak,” you heard Neteyam warn as you returned to the group behind Ao’nung, giving some distance.

When Lo’ak approached and flexed his fingers around, you knew what was coming before the punch actually landed on your brother’s face.

“Rotxo, stop!” you yelled, pulling him back by his hand. He shook you off easily, dismissing your warnings.

You looked to Neteyam who sighed, as if he’d witness this too many times. The older brother easily beat up Ao’nung and his friends in Lo’ak’s defense, scolding Lo’ak afterwards.

“Come on,” Ao’nung waited expectantly for you to follow them. He sensed your hesitance and saw the way your eyes roamed back and forth between them and the Omatikayas, and finally decided to leave without you.

“In my defense, you got to show off in front of her,” said Lo’ak groggily, nodding to you.

“Excuse my brother and his unrefined mouth.” Neteyam received a weak punch for that and the tiniest smile from you. He didn’t comprehend why, but Neteyam smiled at your amusement and from then, the annoyance you felt from having to teach them disappeared. Just slightly.

“Do I have to face dad?”

“Yes. Until then keep out of trouble. I mean it Lo’ak.”

It was safe to say Neteyam was impressed that his brother managed to not utter a single provoking word until he had to face their father.

“Hey.” Neteyam spun to the sound of your voice. It was nearly sundown and you were standing outside his room. “Sorry about my brother and his friends. I can still teach you how to control your breathing if you’d like.”

The mindful part of him knew he should go find his brother who hadn’t been visible for a long while, but the selfish part of him allowed his interests to take over. And this time, he allowed something for himself for once. Besides, Lo’ak should stay out of trouble after his last encounter with dad.

“Yeah. Sure.”

You nodded towards the shore and Neteyam jumped off his marui to follow you. It took great effort to avoid bumping into any of the children running around and splashing water.

“The secret to increasing your lungs’ limit is to slow your breathing and allow them to slowly adapt,” you said, pushing him back by the chest with both hands so that he sat down.

“Breathe from here.” You were only showing him parts of his chest and abdomen, but he couldn’t help the increasing pace of his heart as your hands felt around his chest. His eyes locked on your face the entire time in an attempt to focus on what you were saying, but the words that came out from your mouth sounded foreign to his brain.

“Your heart is beating really fast.” You frowned. “Slow down.”

Neteyam nodded, but when you felt his heart keep its frantic pace, you sighed and removed your hands from his chest.

“We’ll try this again tomorrow with my sister.”

-

Neteyam did the one thing Ao’nung told him not to do. He found himself coming up with excuses to see you and he was just about subtle enough that even Tuk noticed.

“I just made peace. This time I think you’re going to be the one to mess things up.”

“I’m not doing anything.” They both knew it was a lie and Neteyam was fully aware of that.

“Can you show the way to our marui? They all look the same,” Lo’ak mockingly mimicked the conversation he overheard between you and his brother yesterday. Lo’ak was basking in his enjoyment.

It was something unlikely of Neteyam and something expected of Lo’ak, which made the whole situation even more amusing to the younger brother.

“Ow.” Lo’ak swatted away the hand that hit him in the back of his head.

“You’re being annoying. Stop.”

“Stop being a wuss and make a move. It’s her birthday.” The look Neteyam gave was out of pure disbelief.

“I’m not you who falls in love with every pretty girl you see.”

“I do not do that.”

“Yes you do. Now go annoy someone else. I’m going to see if mom found our gift.” Neteyam pushed the weight of Lo’ak’s arm away from his shoulder, distancing himself before walking the other direction.

“Actually, you already gave her one.” The words from his brother’s mouth caused Neteyam to freeze in place and turn his head to look at him.

“What?”

“You gave her a pretty sea bouquet with a sweet little note.” If he could, Neteyam would tear the smug look off of his brother’s face.

“Kurkung.” Asshole. “What did the note say?”

“You’re going to have to ask her yourself. She actually shows up when you’re around.”

Happy birthday, tanhì

- Neteyam

You somehow doubted that this was actually from Neteyam. He didn’t seem like the type to show romantic gestures to someone he met only a few weeks ago. You were surprised that he was even interested in you at all and it had you flushing like an idiot.

“What’s got you so smiley?” asked Rotxo, snatching the note from your hand before you could reply.

“Hey!”

“That bastard. I thought mom got you that.” Your brother gestured to the bouquet with a glare. You had no idea why your brother and his friends were so against you and Neteyam. It wasn’t like either of you showed any interest in each other. Well, not until now.

“Lay off, Rotxo. It’s her birthday,” you heard Ao’nung’s voice before he entered the marui and stole the note from Rotxo’s hands. Your brother’s hand ruffled your hair in a way he knew you hated. “Happy birthday, hì’i kxetse.”

Happy birthday, small tail.

You shoved his hand away in annoyance, the glare you sent looking more playful than menacing. The pushes turned into fights and a full race to the waters.

“Guys-“ Rotxo never got to finish what he was saying since the two of you were already running through the poor villagers that minded their own business, occasionally bumping into some of them.

Ao’nung was grinning at his expected victory when you tackled him from behind. The rest of the way was filled with tripping, pulling, and your attempts at kicking him away from you.

You were nearly there. Aonung would often beat you most of the time, but on lucky days, you claimed the victory.

“Woah!” Before you could stop yourself, you slammed into Neteyam, knocking the both of you over to the waters.

Water filled your lungs quicker than you could comprehend and it seemed like Neteyam did the same since he was coughing a fit once the two of you resurfaced.

“Sorry,” you mumbled an apology in between coughs.

“Looks like lover boy helped you win, little sis.” Ao’nung appeared from behind you. Your brother did nothing, but you hit him on his forehead - which felt like a weak nudge to him - for his mere existence. “I’m gonna fetch Rotxo. I’m still keeping my eye on you, forest boy.”

Once Ao’nung was out of earshot you were quick to approach him and apologize for your brother’s hostility. “Sorry for him. I liked your gift, though. It was lovely.”

Neteyam knew it wasn’t really his gift, but he couldn’t help but play along. Lo’ak was never going to let this go and he knew it. He was “forever in Lo’ak’s debt”.

“It’s alright. Happy birthday again.”

You smiled at Neteyam, leaning in to put a hand on his jaw and he hoped you couldn’t feel the speed of his heartbeat increasing as you gave a peck to his cheek. It was supposed to be him, yet you were the one whose face flushed and quickly swam away to find your ilu.

Lo’ak just found the entire thing amusing.

He raised a brow suggestively as Neteyam spotted him standing by the shoreline, blowing a kiss his way, which was responded with water splashed to his face.

“You’re welcome.”

kurkung [ˈkuɾ.kuŋ] n. asshole (vulgar)

tanhì [tan.ˈhɪ] n. star, bioluminescent freckle

hì’i [ˈhɪ.ʔi] adj. small, little (in size)

kxetse [ˈk’ɛ.t͡sɛ] n. tail

[lqveharrington]

My Wife | A.B.

summary: It was arranged for you and Anthony to marry for convince, but it seems as if the both of you find it much more than just a marriage of convince.

pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader

includes: use of she/her pronouns, minimal use of Y/N, kissing, mentions of sex, some angst

a/n: i’ve been watching too much bridgerton and reading too much books to not write about him

After being wed and having one of the best wedding lunches, the new viscountess and Viscount Bridgerton found themselves with a dilemma. Although the two had known each other for quite some time before having to wed, they had not considered how they truly felt for one another. They merely saw each other as close friends through the years. So when their wedding night came — along with the added nights of their honeymoon — the newly wed couple did not know what was to come of them.

“You mustn’t leave us yet!” Hyacinth wraps her arms around your middle, smiling brightly toward her newest sister-in-law. “I still have so many things I need to ask you and so little time!”

“I’ll be back in a month, Hyacinth.” You press a kiss to her temple and squeeze her in your arms. You tuck one of her curls behind her ear and rub her cheek. “Besides, I’ve seen you grow into an amazing young woman so far, I doubt it’ll change in one month.”

She happily takes the compliment — albeit shyly — and took your hands in her. She swings them by her side and looks at you with all seriousness. “You must promise to be back in a month. No more and no less.”

“I promise.” You give her a soft smile. It wasn’t uncommon for Hyacinth to make you promise such things, she truly loved you even before you were betrothed to her eldest brother. You squeeze her hands gently, giving her a reassuring gaze. “But you must promise me that you’ll tell me all those stories of your adventures when I come back.”

“Of course.” She gives you a bright grin.

You give her an equally bright smile as she wraps her arms around you one last time before letting go, off to bother Gregory. The young Bridgerton boy gave you a hug, murmuring softly about how much he’d miss you before following his younger sister to stand by the front gates. They both were truly lights in the Bridgerton family, and you were happy that they both officially became a siblings to you. Even after practically raising them along side Anthony and Violet.

You move to walk over to the carriage when Eloise rushes over to you, eyes glazed and puffy.

“Eloise?” You stand in front of the young woman, catching her wipe her tears and sniffle. “Are you alright?” You bring a hand up to wipe her tears, giving her a look of remorse.

“I’m not bloody fine.” She sadly chuckled before pulling you into a tight hug. Eloise buried her head into your shoulder, sniffling loudly. “I can’t believe you married my prick brother.”

You quickly embraced the brunette, holding her close as her tears were soaked up by your white dress. You rubbed her back softly, murmuring a quiet response. “I can’t believe you’re crying for me and not Anthony.”

“Like I said, he’s a prick.” Eloise wiped her face with her bare hand, no decorum whatsoever. You handed her a handkerchief, nodding when she thanked you. She glanced back at the carriage awaiting you and Anthony before meeting your eyes again. “When I was younger, I thought that the easiest way for you to become my sister was to marry into the family.”

You listened intently, rubbing her shoulder.

“I didn’t think that you needed to marry after you helped raise us. You were practically family. I guess I never saw Anthony nor Benedict enough to marry such an amazing woman.” She fiddled with the bow at the front of her dress as she explained her thoughts for you. “When you came over one day and told us you were getting married to dear old Anthony… I think I was elated that you would really be our sister.” She looked up at you again. “I was happy that you and him came to your senses and that you would become the new Viscountess.”

Your eyes widened slightly. You forgot that no one else other than Anthony and your father knew that marriage was for convience. That the marriage was for the Bridgerton heir. Quickly, you mask your face. “I’ll let your mama handle being Viscountess for as long as she wants. I still have much to learn about that role.”

“Nonsense, you learned so much about it when you came over to help with Gregory and Hyacinth.” She nudged your side before pulling you into one last hug. “I won’t keep you long because Anthony keeps glaring over, but I truly believe you would be the best Viscountess the ton will ever see.” She pauses and looks over at her mother. “Well, besides mama.”

You shake your head with a playful grin, “I’ll see you in a month, El.”

She smiles softly as you step away to your carriage. You soften your gaze as you look back at her and the rest of the Bridgerton family. They were practically your second family and now they truly were family. You gave them a short curtesy for being a home to you when an arm wrapped around your waist. Without even looking, you knew who was next to you.

“Are you all done with your goodbyes?” Anthony teases, recounting how each of his siblings had a personal farewell from you. “I want my wife back.”

You scrunch your nose at his teasing words as he lays his hand out to help you into the carriage. “Jealous, Viscount Bridgerton?” You steady yourself as you enter the carriage, hand delicately placed in his. You adjust yourself in the carriage, pushing strands of hair off your face.

He squeezes your hand as he takes a seat next to you. He gave you a gentle look, eyes roaming around your face. “I would never be jealous of my siblings. Besides you’re stuck with me, Viscountess Bridgerton.”

You send him a soft smile at his words before waving toward the Bridgerton family once more as the carriage pulled away. You lean your head on Anthony’s shoulder like you usually did when you were younger, keeping your hand in his.

“You know, you don’t need to bow down to them.” Anthony gave a short peck to your head, rubbing his thumb on your hand.

You hum before speaking, “Your family has earned my respect over many years. I owe them at least one bow before I’m officially the Viscountess.”

He continues to rub your hand as he processes your words.

As the trek to Aubrey Hall began, you kept your hands intertwined with Anthony’s the entire time, occasionally one of you squeezing the other’s hand. You spoke mindlessly about the recent books you’ve read or how the visits to the modiste went with his sisters. You honestly did everything to keep your mind off from the impending wedding night that was to fall on the both of you.

And as if he read your mind, Anthony did the same. While he listened intently to your words, he added comments where he deemed it necessary and rubbed soft circles into your hand when he asked for more information. He would also tell his own tales, although they ranged from being drunk with his brothers to filing papers.

The tension between the both of you became apparent as you started to feel warmth lingering on your skin from his touch. It became even more ignited when you saw how he looked at you. He gave you such an amorous gaze, like you hung the stars up just for him.

You arrived at Aubrey Hall during nightfall, the lights outside just being lit by the staff already waiting for the both of you. No matter how many times you saw the place, you marveled at how beautiful it was.

Anthony stepped out of the carriage and dusted himself off before extending his hand for you to take. He led you through the house where the both of you would be staying, your things arriving well before your carriage came.

You let go of Anthony’s hand as you sat in front of the vanity, gently taking your earrings out and your jewelry when you saw him staring at you intensely. You raised a brow and opened your mouth to comment on it when he spoke.

The both of you quietly laughed at the unexpected mixing of your voices. You finished pulling all your jewelry off and stood to face him properly. He nodded for you to go first, taking your hand in his again.

“Anthony…” You say softly and thumb his pulse. “Can I ask you something?”

He hummed and met your eyes, creasing his brows when he saw the hesitation in them. “What is it?”

“I… You…” You pause, looking away and spinning your wedding ring anxiously. You rubbed your face before continuing, slowly meeting his eyes. “Did you truly only agree to marry me for convenience? For an heir to the Bridgerton name?”

Anthony let go of your hand and rubbed his jaw, sighing. “Yes… And no.”

You looked at him in confusion before he spoke again.

“I knew I had to marry someday. I thought it would merely be for an heir, but mother wanted it to be of love since Daphne found her true match.” Anthony chuckled softly at the fond memory of his sister in a now very happy marriage. “I wasn’t too sure how love with someone other than family was supposed to feel like. I wasn’t sure exactly how I was supposed to find someone to marry for love.”

The idea plagued your mind. You never knew what love from a significant other was supposed to feel like either. You knew love from your family and what the Bridgertons’ had shown you.

“I saw how mother was with father when he was still… I never really felt it.” Anthony gazed into your eyes with something you couldn’t place. “Not until recently. You,” He sucked in a small breath before continuing. “You lit up a room whenever you came by and my siblings adored you, I adored you.” He cupped your cheek softly. “There were countless nights where I couldn’t sleep because I knew you were available for any other man of the ton and you only saw me as a friend. A friend from childhood.”

You parted your mouth slightly at the confession, feeling the heat from his hands.

“When your father came up to me and proposed the marriage with you, I thought it couldn’t be bad. I would marry the woman who stuck with me my entire life. I accepted for the convenience of it all, but I truly felt more even before this arrangement was brought up.” Anthony brought his other hand up to your face and stared intently, rubbing the apples of your cheeks.

“What are you…” You trail off as he gives you a look to listen.

“I’m saying I love you, Y/N. With all my heart and soul. You showed me what love was and how it was supposed to feel.” Anthony says before pulling your face to his and capturing your lips.

You let out a small noise of surprise before melting into the kiss, letting your arms wrap behind his neck. He trailed a hand down to your hip and pulled you closer to him as you smiled into the kiss.

Panting, you part from the mind searing kiss and rest your forehead on his, eyes shut. “Anthony?”

Anthony slowly nodded, “Yes?”

“I love you too.” You kiss him again.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[bearwithegg]

Fight Like a Girl || B. Blackwood ||

I can change it to Davos once we get further confirmation. Ig?? Lmaooo lord help me. I cbf putting this on my main writing account because of how inconsistent I am with writing kjhdfhg

Mulan Inspired scenario. Original House, i just made that shit up bro lesgoooo. I hope my mass effect enjoyers like this <3

Kieran Burton!Benjicot x f!reader.

Warnings: None? Swearing?

Word Count: 2.8k

PART 2

For @spider-stark ( they write the best damn benjicot oneshots go READ RN)

***

“Keep your voice down, Garrus.” You hiss, eyes darting around the makeshift battlements, rows upon rows of tents more dense than the woods surrounding the legion of men, banners separating them only in name. War was here. Yet men were merry, roaring with laughter, cheering and jeering each other on when sparring amongst themselves. You were well in over your head for this.

“Apologies my lad— lord,” Garrus, a tall, gangly gentleman who not only represented your noble house but also remained your closest confidant and sworn protector. From the moment you were plucked out of your mothers womb, he had encompassed your upbringing with a chassis of care and love like a father would a son or a mother would her babes. Though he might’ve been neither, he was the only person you could call home.

Stylguard. Might’ve been home once, when you and your brother ran a muck in the courtyards instead of tending to important studies with the Maester. When the summers meant that hours were wasted making chains of flowers and clovers. Only ghosts remain, painful visages of a different lifetime, warning those who dare contest the cruel threads of fate the war beget.

The false King must die.

You swore this oath, quietly in whispers of red hot anger, no witnesses to hear it except for the phantoms plaguing your mind and the gods of old. A lady alone could not put an end to a war — men however, could.

“There,” Garrus raises an arm, forefinger steady on a muddied pit in the distance. The epicenter of clashing swords and men shouting. “I might suggest watching them first, Little Clover.”

Little Clover. You were neither little nor the girl who picked clovers in the farmlands anymore. A mere remnant of the past, a pet name that forces unwanted memories of before the Dragons had begun their pointless infighting. Hurtful as it may be, it was the best way to keep unnoticed amongst the thousands of men without arousing suspicion of your true identity.

Some of the men barely meet such a description, boys no older than ten and one pick up swords and join in a brutal pastime against men thrice their size. These were no noblemen, not boys who wielded swords long before their voice stopped squeaking, no. These were commonfolk, some under sworn protection from minor houses, but most of these boys and men were farmers. Steele farmers. Blackwood farmers. Tully farmers. Fray farmers. All united for one cause — and not a single one of them were proficient enough with a sword.

“None of these men are fit for war,” you whisper, turning to Garrus, a sullen swept look on his face mirroring your own. It was hypocritical to comment, considering you could count on one hand how many times you had picked up a sword. Though it was not a slight on their ability to go to war, it was the tragic reality that loomed over the realm.

“They fight for what they believe in…” Garrus answers softly, a hand firmly wrapped around the pommel of his sword, as it had always been since the murmurings of war rippled through the Seven Kingdoms. His eyes look ahead at boys throwing their swords away and opting for fists, pools of blue express his kind and somber nature, reflecting his true age, yet the crows feet around them betray such a thing.

War is cruel to those who bear witness.

The dogpile is quickly dispersed, a lithe and commanding presence tears the boys off one another and reprimands them. “Benjicot Blackwood.” Garrus murmurs, eyes casting a weary look down at you, “you’d do well to learn from him. He’s spilt more blood in this war than the dragons.” A jest, you think, but hearing of the Blackwoods fearsome reputation it could quite possibly yield truth.

Benjicot is shouting orders, or perhaps insults, you couldn’t tell —he had mud pressed hard into his tunic no doubt from rigorous sparring in the sludge pit, a stark contrast to the green fields of untouched grasslands the contingent temporarily inhabited. His feet sunk into the ground with each step, the man made bog had been many of the boys’ downfall during sparring and a cause of frustration by the looks they all shared across their faces.

“You there, boy.” He points at you — sword tip singling you out and all.

Eyes wide and body rigid, you felt as though you’d forgotten how to speak or move. Had it not been for Garrus gripping the scruff of your ill-fitted tunic and shoving you forward, you might’ve found yourself at the ire of the boy before you.

Not boy. Man.

Barely so, not even the young were spared from the cruel and aging touch of war.

He regards you carefully, a stormy gaze looking at you from head to toe. Eyes stopping at the sigil adorned on your chest. Even bespeckled with sweat and mud you couldn’t help but think how handsome he looked, though it was far from an appropriate thought. It helped ease the nervousness that rippled through your being as you stood in the centre of a circlet of men.

”Lord Steele found himself sober enough to finally choose a side did he?” Benjicot’s words were severe, a low growl not too dissimilar to that of the black cats and Direwolves of the nearby forests. There was a primal, animalistic quality in his movements, sizing you up like a predator would when deciding if something was prey or not.

You resist the urge to look at Garrus, he could not help you, not now. Instead, with a chin held up you shake your head, nudging it back toward your confidant, “we came alone, Lord Blackwood.”

His eyes flicker behind you and tilts his head to the side, “hm. Idiotic yet admirable of you two. Going against the word of the House that protects you.” There was a glint of something in his eyes, wild, untamed and real compared to many of the other pairs of eyes you had come across in the camp. He swipes the sweat from his upper lip and nods over to the handmade rack of swords, “show us what House Steele defects are made of then.”

This was about to be nothing short of a complete humiliation, you were certain. Yet, with a steady breath and the ignition of hatred bubbling in the back of your mind to remind you of why this path was the one you chose — you pick a short sword, albeit the smallest of the array of the newly smithed weapons.

Despite its small size it was still made from heavy ores, your wrist willing itself to relent to the weight, wanting to bend and twist. Men and boys begin to laugh, your eyes look around and it was a horrifying reflection of your own uselessness, like a childish nightmare coming to fruition. It pissed you off.

The moment you came into this life born without a prick between your legs you had always been seen as inferior, a prize to be sold to the highest bidder. The lament of a woman born in Westeros. Now, you stand on the edge of a cliff looking over an abyss brought on by the war. By two dragons ill-fitted for the power they wield because at the end of all this, the only people who suffer are the people.

You resent being born into a hateful world and you resent that loss is what has driven you to action. Just like you resent being laughed at by a crowd of men who knew next to nothing about the sacrifices you’ve made.

Benjicot Blackwood, does not laugh. He does not jeer nor does he show faint amusement at your inability to hold a mere short sword. He has since stepped aside, beckoning a boy forward who is similar in your stature but definitely not in age — he could barely be ten and four.

He was snickering, and that added more oil on top of the fire that burned your hatred and loathing — you feel yourself recede into that raw emotion. While you may be absolutely abhorrent with any real fighting skills, you had an unbridled rage to let out in recompense for all the wrong done unto you in this world.

And so you charge at him, using momentum to help raise the sword over your head because by gods alone, your strength was practically non-existent. A ferocious yowl barrels from your throat when swords clashed, the sudden stop was disorienting and caused you to stumble back slightly. He swings his sword and you double back again, the mud encasing around your boots willing you to trip, to fall.

You try to swing back but don’t have enough momentum and you feel your wrist bend under the weight of the sword and have to over-correct, stepping to the side so as to not drop the sword. Laughter rumbles through the men once again, some beginning to cheer on the boy in front of you.

Heaving forward again, you go to swing but in a split second you let go of the sword, letting it careen through the air and hitting the boy on the chest. Was it smart to willfully disarm oneself? Perhaps not, but he certainly wasn’t expecting it so you pounce. An all too familiar scene that would have otherwise delighted you if it weren’t on the grounds of war; a hand curls into his muddied blonde locks while the other goes to claw at his face.

Many fights had broken out like this between you and other girls growing up, it seemed only natural to revert back to the ways you knew how to fight. Even if it wasn’t exactly appropriate.

The two of you tumble into the mud together but the element of surprise has long surpassed and he uses simple strength, punching you hard in the gut and knocking you off him. Unsure what to expect next, you lay in the mud, chest heaving hard and conceded defeat — truthfully you had conceded defeat the second you were called out to show off your ‘skill’.

Overcast and dreary weather as it may be, the sun's light still glared through such heavy obscurity, your eyes squinted while trying to figure out if it was easier to sink into the bog beneath you or get up and swallow down what little pride remained. Eclipsing the sun in more ways than one, Benjicot stands over you, expression hardened yet there was an amused glint deep within his dark eyes.

“You fight like a girl,” he outstretched his hand, part of you contemplating hitting it away but he was the only one - aside from Garrus - to not laugh at your ineptitude. A soft groan passes your lips and you begrudgingly take the gesture of kindness, it was more than anyone had given you anyway.

“I am no knight,” you grumble back, once upright, rolling your shoulders back and rubbing the wrist that began to ache from holding a sword. The crowd of men had begun dispersing, you wonder if in your post fight daze if Benjicot had shooed them away.

”Aye, any idiot with two eyes can see that,” he jests, picking up the sword from the mud, “any daft cunt can pick up a sword and swing it around — but you’ve something else… I see it in your eyes, boy.”

At first you think he’s undermining you, but after a moment, it was clear he was paying you a compliment.

He returns the sword amongst the rest, a hand resting on the pommel of his sheathed dagger. Something about his stature, the way he commanded the space he inhabited was so interesting. He was unlike any other Lord you met before, perhaps it could be that he was a warrior first, then Lord second. A sentiment only emboldened since the war began.

“It may be pertinent that we train at night Little Clover, you have much to learn,” Garrus whispers, coming up behind you and putting a hand on your shoulder proudly. He may have watched you get bested without question, and sure, behind the confines of the tent you two shared later he would no doubt say how proud he was, there was not a single thing you could do that he wouldn’t support.

He should have trained you up sooner — be it if the departure from Stylguard wasn’t swift and last moment.

Benjicot approaches the two of you, watching as you whisper conspiratorially. He was as intimidating when he was quiet as he was when wielding a sword. A perceptive gaze looking between Garrus, clad in armour of your house and you, unevenly cut hair and dressed in little more than a squires tunic. He gives a weary look around, many of the men had long left the sludge pit.

”I must thank you, for joining the efforts even if they go against Lord Steele’s,” He says formally.

“No matter, my Lord.” Garrus smiles, a thin and forced one out of mere politeness, “Lord Steele grows weary the longer the war persists, a conflict averse man such as himself cannot continue to lock himself away in the wine cellars while war is brought to his doorstep.”

There was a pause, a silent mediator among the three of you, as much as it would pain you to admit; Garrus holds truth in his words. You love your father you really did but he stopped being a present figure the moment the raven arrived with word of your brother's death.

“Aye, The Greens have done irreparable damage to his family yet he cowers in his fortress.” Benjicot says quietly, mulling over his thoughts. His tongue pokes the inside of the cheek, protruding it out before moistening his lips with a twitch of a smile, barely perceptible, “is that why his daughter fled? To find retribution for the unlawful death of her brother?”

You tense up, swallowing hard and don’t dare look to Garrus lest suspicion is raised. The lump in your throat is hard and stubborn, even as you clear it, part of it remains to jeopardize the weight of your words. “That is.. what many believe to have happened… A few of us stable boys overheard she had plans to flee to Essos.”

Benjicot hums, nodding in response and looks around at the tents, the men, all the heart and blood of war. You follow his gaze carefully, how deeply entrenched in the throes of war the realm had become. In the middle of a field at the edge of the Riverlands of all places.

“This doesn’t look like Essos to me, my Lady.”

Before you had a chance to stumble back, Garrus had put an arm in front of you, an instinct to protect, to guard. Though falters when he hears the young Blackwood laugh.

”Do not think yourself in danger. It is admirable, truly. To go against your fathers wishes, but you cannot simply cut your hair and wear the clothes of a boy and call yourself a warrior.” He chuckled, a deep and soothing sound that made your cheeks burn, though that was partly due to being caught. He was impressed in truth, unable to find what the wild spark in your eyes was initially, though it made sense the moment he saw your delicate unmarred hands. Nails well kept and not a single grain of dirt underneath them.

“I wish to learn, I want to fight.” You step forward, voice pleading because if you didn’t have this then what remained? A hallowed home with vestiges of pain luring anyone stupid enough to hear their call? An empty father, nothing but a shell of what once was a person who mirrored life and happiness? It was fight or die and even death wasn’t as cruel of a fate as returning to nothing, to be nothing.

“And you fight like a girl,” he smiles, not to insult or belittle you, nothing more nefarious than a simple observation. He inches forward, shifting his weight. It shouldn’t have made you as nervous as it did, but he was close enough to crowd your senses with his natural musk. “Many men believe women to be bad luck in times of war, these men are no different.”

Those men were stupid, you think.

“And what say you, Lord Blackwood?” You swallow.

“I say that not many of them have had the pleasure of meeting my Aunt.” He whispered, eyes swirling similarly to the darkened storm stricken skies above. “Women aren’t welcome by some around here, do well to keep discreet. And if you cannot manage that, then be ruthless.”

On his retreat, you feel yourself turn to look at Garrus, who looked caught between a look of utter bemusement yet partially pleased all things considered. He looks down at you and clears his throat, “let us retire for the afternoon, my lad— Little Clover. Trust that the Lordling does not speak to many about your arrival.”

Your eyes remain in the direction Benjicot disappeared in, sighing heavily. Perhaps in a different lifetime he would have been a delightful consort, though for now it is barely a thought, passing through your idle mind as you slowly turn to rest for the day.

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 5.2k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

Notes: Part one is linked here!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

The doors to the council room chamber finally shut, leaving only Alicent and her two sons by themselves. A tense air looms overhead, and Aemond Targaryen sits stiff in his chair, considering all that has just happened. 

I am to marry Jaenara Velaryon.

A funny feeling settled at the bottom of Aemond’s heart. Truth be told, marrying his niece was far from the worst possible marriage partner he could imagine. Aemond would never speak it aloud, but he had always found Jaenara strikingly beautiful. While she did not bear the signature Targaryen white hair, she shared their bewitching lavender eyes. Hers had always been an interesting shade, he had thought. And Jaenara had a remarkably Valyrian face. Many people amongst the court — even his mother Alicent — had stated that Jaenara was a spitting image of Rhaenyra in her younger years.

Aemond also admired his niece’s curious personality, which was an understatement. One second, she could be as cold as the winters of the north. A moment later, she would exhibit a kindness and warmth only read about in stories. She was a welcome challenge, Aemond thought. 

Jaenara, he remembered, is also a skilled dragonrider. She had a strong bond with her dragon, and had quickly honed many skills and tactics that many within their family — including her brothers, had struggled with. 

Perhaps there was more to admire about this match than he initially believed. 

Aemond finally raises his gaze to his mother and brother.

“I never thought you’d be one to play matchmaker, mother.” Aemond tells his mother, the slightest hint of amusement in his tone. Amusement to mask his uncertainty. Alicent looks at him incredulously, wondering how her son could joke amidst such circumstances. 

“Oh you didn’t know?” Aegon scoffs, “Mother has already done this before. Can’t you see how happy Helaena and I are together? Surely you and your beloved bastard will also be a sight to behold.” 

Aemond opens his mouth to retort his brother's jabs but his mother beats him to it.

“Enough!” Alicent slams an open palm onto the table. Aegon scoffs once more and rolls his eyes. Their mother’s eyes hold sorrow. Guilt. She has nothing to say in rebuttal. What could be said in face of the cold truth?

Aemond is about to leave when his mother finally speaks: “You will speak to Jaenara with more respect from now on if you are expected to sit at her mother’s council…” she trails off, as if unsure of her own words.

“I seem to remember you spoke of her the same way not too long ago - what was it you called her? Plain-featured?,” Aegon says, “Though your criticism of Rhaenyra and her litter of bastards has lessened over these last few months. Has the Queen snuffed out your senses too?” 

“Aegon,” Alicent’s voice is heavy, “Aemond. Rhaenyra only has everyone’s best interest in mind. She is following her father’s dying wishes - your father’s dying wish. We were both with him in his last moments…” The woman before them clad in green closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. 

“I know what has happened in the past. But this is our opportunity to put it at rest…”

Put it at rest? Aemond feels disgust at his mother’s sympathies. They took my eye. They made my childhood the nightmare it was. They chipped away at me bit by bit.  

“You say this about the same people who robbed me of an eye, mother,” Aemond responds coolly, “The same people who faced no consequences for this. I have seen how this has tormented you, even years later. As you have with me.”

The prince can see the conflict that bubbles below his mother’s surface. Alicent turns to her son and does something unexpected. She takes her hand in his. 

Aemond’s eye softens for the smallest moment.

“My son. There is no mending what has been left in the past. But there is still time to mend the future. I only wish to see you happy.”

He shakes out of his mother’s grasp. “She will do no such thing.”

Aemond stands and makes a brisk exit for the door. Leaving his mother and brother behind, and himself to his thoughts.

Someone will pay the price. And I will make him pay for it in blood.

The prince does not find sleep so easily that night. He challenges himself to imagine the look that would grace his niece’s face when her mother would have to break the news of their arrangement to her. He wondered if her lavender eyes would narrow in disgust, her lip curling in a snarl, anger palpable. Or perhaps she had looked to her mother with quiet surrender, making no reaction and solemnly accepting his hand. He decided she had done the former. Jaenara had always been a rather animated young woman - and that was putting it lightly. Even in their youth she had been this way.

In the quiet of his chambers, Aemond finds his mind enraptured by the princess. 

He is reminded of a time she had scolded him when she was a girl no older than six, and himself only seven, for pushing her twin to the ground and giving him a scraped elbow. The only person who managed to stop her tirade had been Rhaenyra. Aemond recalls the young mother scooping her twins into her arms, one flailing around still shouting at him whilst the other had tears streaming down his face. The prince smiles almost fondly from the memory, surprising himself.

The next memory that came to him happened a few years later. Aemond had more often found himself at the center of ridicule, frequently dealt by Jace and Luke. Oftentimes by Aegon too, though he chose to ignore that detail. The young prince had always felt distant to the rest of his family, as though he were different - lesser than the rest of them. And how could he not, as a dragon-less Targaryen. He was a dragon without wings. And his nephews had made sure he was aware of this. Aemond recalled how his blood boiled at the thought that bastards such as his nephews - such as Jaenara - had dragons. And yet, he did not. Was there something wrong with him? Had there been a reason his egg had not hatched alongside him in his cradle? Was he unworthy?

The taunting had reached a new level when Jaenara’s brothers had gifted Aemond a pig. Something he was much more worthy of rather than a dragon - they had said. He remembers when his nephews had revealed the creature to him in the training yard. Even Aegon laughed at him, so loudly it had caught the attention of Jaenara, who had been on the far end of the square speaking with Helaena. Aemond remembered how her gaze had turned to him - how he waited for her to join in on the teasing and laughing. 

No such thing happened.

Jaenara bounded over to the group of boys, a quiet storm forming behind her lavender eyes. Helaena had opted to hang back from the debacle, watching the impending uproar with rapt attention. 

“Think that’s funny, do you?” Jaenara had asked aloud when she finally reached their group. 

Silence. 

Jaenara continued, “I seem to remember that you yourself Jacaerys - you have made very little progress in even mounting Vermax.” The young boy averted his attention to the ground, suddenly very interested in a mound of dirt near his feet. The reprimanding had not stopped there.

“And you-” She turned to Lucerys, “You on the other hand may be able to mount your dragon, though you find yourself on the ground within seconds.” She looks between her brothers, and then to Aemond. Each holds their gaze with the other for a few moments.

“Neither of you have any room to be acting as though you are real dragon riders yourselves.” She seems to have finished, turning on her heels and running back to Helaena.

“AND TAKE THAT PIG BACK!” She yells over her shoulder. Aemond watched as his sister and niece strode away, arm in arm. He returns his attention to Jace and Luke, whose faces are the same shade as their house colors. Aegon’s laughter fills the yard again.

This incident had shown Aemond a different side of his niece. For an instant, he was filled with an immense regret for all the times he had ever been cold to her. The times he had called her a bastard. The times he had joined in on Aegon’s belittling of her and her family. She had taken all of that - for years on end - and still defended him. He couldn’t really understand why.

He can do little to prevent his least favorite memory from entering his mind. Aemond takes in a breath and closes his eyes. He remembers the night at Driftmark. The night he had claimed Vhagar. The night he lost his eye. 

That time had been different. Jaenara had not been present when the fighting had broken out - not until Rhaena had frantically found her and told her of what was transpiring, unsure of what to do herself. When his niece entered the room, Aemond had been on top of her brother. The sight had sent the young girl into a frenzy and, without fully understanding the context of the situation, she had flung herself onto Aemond and wrenched the boy off of Lucerys. 

“Get off of him!” She had screeched. With her arm wrapped around Aemond’s neck, Jaenara threw herself back and they soon found themselves on the cold floor. “What do you think you-” Her question remained unanswered at this moment - this singular distraction turning Aemond’s attention towards his niece. He remembered the bewildered look on her face, her black hair coming loose from her braid. Her white night dress and the light purple robe that clung to her. A bead of blood on her bottom lip. She had always had a bad habit of biting it, Aemond had noticed. Hard enough to draw blood. The blood began to trickle down her chin.

It was the last thing his good eye had ever seen before Luke split open Aemond’s face, from his cheek to his forehead. His own blood splattered onto Jaenara’s powder white gown, staining the cloth forever.

Darkness. A scream.

Aemond sat up in bed, blinking away the rest of the memory. He opened and closed a fist. Yes, he was sure of her response now. Jaenara was not happy about the prospect of this union, and had surely let her mother - and the entirety of Dragonstone - know this. Where she lacked Velaryon parentage, Jaenara’s Targaryen fierceness made up for this tenfold. 

She will meet her match.

Aemond would swallow his pride - swallow his grudges against his niece, and become her husband. Though, he decided, she should not expect much from him. He held no love in his heart for her. Surely no romantic love. He would use her as he needed, to obtain what he wanted - power. That, and retribution for the slight that his family had suffered in having Rhaenyra as their Queen. Though some of the weaker members of his family would not see it his way.

He circles back to the dark thoughts that had crossed his mind earlier. He would be doing his soon-to-be wife a favor in getting rid of her twin. She would be made heir to the Seven Kingdoms. It was probably the closest act akin to love Aemond would find himself capable of accomplishing during their relationship. And he would help her to rule. He was nothing if not helpful.

He could make it look like an accident. He had previously considered poisoning Jacaerys. Aemond would not act until a comfortable time into his marriage, so as not to raise suspicion. Though he decided, suspicion would be raised regardless if the heir were to suddenly drop dead in the middle of dinner. He hardly thought that hands clenched around the throat, skin purple, and eyes bulging out of his head would seem inconspicuous.

Poison was out of the question.

Aemond Targaryen feels a sudden sense of dread in plotting his own nephew’s demise. The dread only grows when he truly pictures carrying the act out himself. If he were ever to be discovered, The Realm would christen him with the title of Kinslayer. 

To be a Kinslayer is to be despised by The Gods. To be damned to the Seven Hells. 

Aemond is unsure if he harbors enough hatred in him to carry out the act, though he certainly is no stranger to being on the receiving end of such hatred. 

He considers if he possesses enough complacency to suffer the consequences, should they be dealt. He wonders if his heart is as hard as everyone else believes it to be.

And yet…

Unable to find sleep, Aemond climbs out of bed once more. He dresses and finishes the outfit off with his long black cloak, throwing the hood over his head. 

The One Eyed Prince slips out of the Red Keep and ventures into the Streets of Silk, hoping to find some semblance of comfort. 

— — —

Candlelight illuminates the face of the young princess as her eyes scan the pages of a rather large, rather dusty book. In the days before their inevitable departure, Dragonstone had become a whirlwind of busy servants and flustered royals. All of Jaenara’s possessions had been packed away and taken to King’s Landing ahead of time with the family’s servants, save for the text seated in her lap. In such a tumultuous time, the young woman found solace in its pages. 

Jaenara had read the story of Rhaenys Targaryen, one of Aegon the Conqueror's sister-wives, so many times she felt she could recite the text backwards. Visenya had been a sister more remembered and revered by history for her valor and fierceness as a warrior; though Jaenara found herself drawn to the gentler sister. Rhaenys was more of a revered politician than a feared warrior. To Jaenara, she was just as formidable. She wanted to be like the Queen. Loved and feared. 

A knock upon the door turns her attention away from her histories. Jacaerys enters her chambers and lingers at the door for a moment, before resigning himself to sit next to her on the plush bed. 

“Jace,” Jaenara breathes, closing the text. 

Jacaerys looks over the book. 

“Again?” He attempts a small smile. 

Jaenara gets up from her place on the bed to create some distance between her and her brother. She places the book on her writing desk, taking mental note not to leave the book behind when she leaves tomorrow. “I find comfort through her in times such as these.” she responds shortly. 

Jace sighs, “You have been avoiding me.”

“You have made it easy.”

“Nara,” Jacaerys begins to sound annoyed, “You are not the only person who has had to…adapt to this change.”

Jaenara turns swiftly towards her brother, loose raven tresses swaying behind her wildly, “No, but I am the only person amongst us who had had their hand sold to a snake. You cannot understand my grief, Jace! You are betrothed to Baela - sweet Baela. You two actually like each other. But I am condemned to be the conciliatory sacrifice of this family.“

You are being unfair. Jaenara says to herself — she knows it to be true. You are being difficult. But she cannot help it. Her twin was afforded the luxury of being born a man. A man who did not have to face the same realities she currently found herself in.

Jace shifts on her bed, frame creaking under him. He seems to struggle finding his words, “I…you are right Jaenara,” He sighs, “I do not know what it is like. Just as you do not know what it is like to now be heir of the Seven Kingdoms.”

She glances at him and her twin continues.

“We both have the burdens of our parents to bear. We wear crowns too heavy for us.” Jace is solemn.

Jaenara bites her lip hard and lets out a shaky breath. A sickly sheen of guilt settled in her stomach. It was true that she had not considered what the rest of her family had been feeling of late. She seats herself beside Jacaerys and the bed groans under their weight once more. 

“I am sorry Jace.” Is all she can muster up.

Jace places a reassuring hand over her own. “You may yet make some use out of your upcoming marriage.”

Confused, Jaenara looks to her brother.

“Aemond is a fierce fighter. He is well versed in the histories and philosophies. I hear he has become a knowledgeable strategist. He rides the largest and oldest dragon, who is no stranger to battle.” Copper eyes meet lilac eyes. “And with you as his wife, he will be in our pocket.”

“He would be a formidable ally to have. But Aegon holds a seat on mother’s council - not Aemond.” Jaenara asserts.

“I as heir and you as his wife could sway this decision.”

“Mother has not even been crowned and you are already scheming.” Jaenara’s words are not so chiding as they are playful.

“Not scheming. I only hold our best interests in mind.” Jace tells his sister.

She looks him over once more. When had they become so…grown-up?

“You tell me you are fearful of wearing the crown one day…I think you will come to wear it well.” Jaenara softly smiles as Jacaerys scoffs and rises to his feet. 

“Just think it over, Nara,” He turns to the door, “You must rest. We rise early in the morning and depart for King’s Landing.” 

Before he leaves, he throws a glance at his sister over his shoulder. “I won’t let any harm come to you…from him.”

Jaenara does not let on how much the words mean to her. She has always disguised her true feelings under a cover of dripping sarcasm. “You need not worry about me, brother. Perhaps you should protect him from me.”

Jacaerys laughs and leaves again.

As Jaenara climbs into bed, she considers her brother's words.

Where he may prove to fail as a husband, he could make up for as an advisor. A weapon.

The princess blows out the candle and dreams.

In her slumber, Jaenara is face to face with Aemond Targaryen. He stands opposite to her, in front of a throng of people. She looks down and sees herself clad in an ornate dress of scarlet, white, and gold. Her black hair is pinned up in several twisting braids. The One Eyed Prince looks to his beautiful bride, eye full of admiration. For a moment, she thinks he might love her.

She thinks she may like that.

Suddenly, gasps are heard around the crowd. The gasps morph into shouts, scattered all over the Great Hall. A sharp pain. Jaenara feels a sticky warmth envelop her cheek, and feels something dribble onto her wedding gown. She reaches a trembling hand up to her face, pulls it back, and watches blood soak her palm, dripping below her wrist and all the way down the length of her arm. The wails echoing throughout the hall only grow around her. It is maddening. A sickening pop makes her blood run cold and she watches as one of her eyes rolls onto the floor below. 

Her husband’s mouth moves yet his voice comes out delayed, a haunting chorus.

An eye for an eye.

Jaenara wakes to another knock at her door. 

“My lady, may I help you dress?”

The princess wills her breath steady and wipes the sweat from her brow.

“Come…come in!” She calls out to her handmaiden. 

There was no time to dwell on the meaning of dreams.

— — — 

Prince Aemond sits across from Helaena as her children busy themselves with their toys. A handmaiden hands Jahaerys a toy dragon, which the boy launches at his brother. 

“I think I will be glad to see them today,” Helaena says suddenly, looking up from her embroidery, “In truth, I have missed Jaenara.”

Aemond continues to watch his niece and nephews play as he answers his sister, “You may be the only one amongst us who feels that way,” He mutters, “Though I do remember how close you and Jaenara were as children.”

Helaena had been an even lonelier child than she was now, as a lonely young woman. Always murmuring words that his family could not understand, and did little in trying to understand. Aemond had always felt sorry for her. But Jaenara did not seem to mind her aunt’s off putting nature. He recalls them as young girls, running throughout the castle gardens together, trying to catch butterflies. He remembers as they grew older, a few young ladies in court had taken to calling his sister, Helaena The Hysterical.

Before Aemond could put an end to the name calling, Jaenara had done it herself. The girls in court would not so much as look at either of them wrong.

And most of all, Jaenara listened to Helaena. Something nobody in his family seemed to do. Not even him, in truth. 

“I would hope you two can become close as well,” She gives her brother a wistful look, “You are to be married.”

“I think us siblings are doomed to hold strained relationships - at best - with their marriage partners.” Aemond replies. 

Helaena looks down at her sewing. Maelor and Jaehaerys fight over a wooden horse. Aemond’s sister remains in front of him, though she looks as though she is worlds away.

“Those child led astray finds solace in the embrace of the sea.” she whispers.

Aemond’s attention is redirected from children to mother. A silence passes over him and his sister’s handmaids.

More innocuous ramblings, he thinks.

A servant enters the door to inform the sibling’s of The-Queen-To-Be’s arrival.

“Come, sister,” Aemond begins, “Alicent will be waiting for us. She wishes to receive our family in the Great Hall.”

Helaena sets down her embroidery and looks up at her brother, “A dragon’s ambition foretells his own undoing.” 

Aemond chooses not to hear her words.

— — —

Jaenara and her family’s reception in the Great Hall could not have felt more strained. Guarded expressions and tight lipped smiles adorned Alicent and her children - though Aemond and Aegon had not smiled at all. Helaena seemed blissfully unaware of the anxious energy surrounding her. Jaenara had sent a secret smile her way - a genuine one. And though she felt her uncle’s eyes boring into her, she refused to meet his gaze. 

Rhaenyra had been displeased by the whole ordeal, hoping to ease tensions at dinner. Jaenara found herself remembering the last dinner she had shared with her entire family and thought it to be an impossible task.

Jaenara had spent the time before dinner settling into her new chambers, though all her belongings had already been settled into place before her arrival. The room felt more inviting than her chamber’s in Dragonstone, which were drab and dreary. Though, this was the only silver lining she could find about her circumstances thus far.

When the time had come to prepare for the evening, the princess disrobed from her riding leathers, the smell of dragon peeling off along with them. Her handmaidens help her to dress in a gown that Rhaenyra had picked out for her.

I do not even have the agency to dress myself now?

Jaenara stepped into a dress of crushed velvet, a dark teal in color. The neckline was embroidered with pearls, illuminating her collarbones. The sleeves of the gown hang loosely and open at her wrists, revealing a pale cream color which lines the teal. A belt of silver bangles mixed with pearls hangs around her waist, crested above the teal, cream, and aquamarine shades of fabric that pool to the floor. The attire bore the unmistakable air of Velaryon fashion. The wearer, not so much.

Portions of Jaenara’s dark silky hair were re-braided into a ring, as if it were a crown sitting atop her head, while the rest of her hair remained loose. Black waves ran down her back like a waterfall. 

Her ladies had been told to do this, to help her into a fine gown. To adorn her ears and wrists with bangles. To fix her hair in a way that flattered her face.

To impress him.

She almost laughs out loud at the thought. Jaenara figured that Aemond would find her as charming as he had found that pig he’d been gifted all those years ago.

She decides to regard him similarly, despite her thoughts drifting to long platinum hair that she envied so much. 

Her maids had finally finished with their work. 

Jaenara is sitting around a great wooden table in the dining hall, with the entirety of her family. Servants have begun to deposit plates filled with meats and vegetables and pies and cakes all around. The clanking of plates and silverware fills an otherwise quiet room. Jaenara is begrudgingly sitting next to her uncle, and Jace and Luke shoot her looks of pity from across the table. She picks up her glass and takes a swig.

Suddenly, Rhaenyra Targaryen speaks, “I wish to clear the air,” She begins and everyone looks up from their plates. Alicent Hightower seems especially stiff. 

“I do not wish for this to be a time of tension and formalities - though I do thank you,” She looks at Alicent directly, “for your welcoming reception earlier today. I want us to speak freely amongst each other. I want only what our father, Viserys, wanted.” She makes a gesture towards her siblings at the end of her sentence. Aegon clears his throat.

“There is much to discuss in the coming days, but I want this to be a night of camaraderie and celebration.” Her mother stands, drink in hand, “Let us raise our glasses-”

Jaenara feels herself melting into her chair.

“-To the union between my cherished daughter, Jaenara Velaryon, and the prince Aemond Targaryen. May their union bring strength and prosperity to our noble houses, and may it be blessed by the gods." Her voice held a hint of cautious optimism, echoing the hopes and dreams of a realm poised on the brink of new alliances.

Jaenara lifts her glass, as well as her attention to the man next to her. Aemond is already looking at his niece, a smirk on his face. 

To everyone’s surprise, Alicent Hightower rises from her seat. She looks less burdened from the words of Rhaenyra.

“Thank you, Your Grace…for your unflinching understanding.” The two women share a look, “And to Jaenara and Aemond. A lovely match indeed.”

Helaena begins to clap, though no one else around the table shares her sentiments.

Aegon lets out an audible laugh at the toastings, “Apologies,” he adds quickly, “I am just so - overjoyed by this…marriage.” His voice drips with sarcasm. 

Jaenara forces a smile, though her eyes shine with a different expression, “I am happy this match pleases you, uncle.” 

However, Aemond does not let the jab pass unanswered. "I hope your joy does not swell too greatly, brother," he retorts, "for dragons have been known to breathe fire when overshadowed." 

Jaenara sits up straighter when she sees Aegon roll his eyes and throw back his cup. She regards Aemond with a quizzical gaze. The princess regarded Aemond’s retort as nothing more than a brotherly spat. Before any more slights can be passed around, the servants finish bringing out the rest of the food. The family begins their dinner and small conversations break out amongst those resigned to sit next to each other.

The princess watches her brothers laugh with Baela and Rhaena. Sees her mother and step-father speak with one another. She pushes her food around her plate.

The sudden sound of Aemond’s voice makes her jump, “The cooking of the castle staff does not please you?” he asks, amused.

Jaenara stops playing with her food and her eyes cut away to her uncle.

“The first conversation you wish to have with me - in years - is whether or not I like our meal?” her voice drips with condescending skepticism, “As if the fate of the realm hinges on my opinion of pigeon pie?”

He tsks at her, “Always so difficult niece. I am only attempting to make conversation. An endeavor that seems beneath you - a pursuit you avoid at all costs if it is with me.”

“You are just…quite bad at it.” Jaenara remarks.

It is Aemond’s turn to take a sip of his drink to hide his annoyance.

“I do enjoy that…costume you’re wearing. But you are more a Targaryen than a Velaryon - don’t you agree?” Aemond says lowly.

Jaenara knows his remarks are meant to be demeaning, though she tries to take it in stride. She was a Targaryen after all. And she was pleased that she acted so much like one that people took notice, even if it was Aemond. But an insult was an insult all the same. 

Exasperated, Jaenara turns to the prince fully, “Is this what I can expect when married to you? Insults thrown at me for all my days to come? You should know I can deal them out as well, twice as hard.”

Aemond chuckles, “You are too easy and quick to provoke, Jaenara. You are too tense.” She sees something flicker beneath his eye.

Aemond took pleasure in goading his niece, reveling in the predictability of her fiery responses. More silence passes between them. The prince watches Jaenara force a few bites of food into her mouth and continues to eavesdrop on conversations around her. Daemon whispers something to Rhaenyra, and her mother takes a glance at her daughter and half-brother. Jaenara winces. 

“You asked what you can expect being my…wife,” Aemond’s surprisingly soft gaze is already fixed upon her, “You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love. But one founded on mutual…respect. Understanding. We shall navigate this pact with the grace and duty befitting of our situation if you would only allow it.” His words somehow put her at ease.

Jaenara is perplexed. Maybe her mother had been right in saying that Aemond had changed. Though she was skeptical of his remarks. It was yet uncertain whether they could truly let go of all that had transpired in the past. 

Although, the princess felt ever the faintest tinge of disappointment at his words.

“Well…” She begins, though her words do not come out as strong as she would like them to under her uncle’s intense stare, “I am…pleased to hear that. We do not have to feign ignorance then. I expected nothing more from us.”

To Jaenara’s dismay, Aemond seems amused. It is not so often she stumbles over her words. His gaze lingers over her. He takes notice of the pearl that sits prettily below her collarbones. He watches her eyes fall to her hands, which she wrings in her lap. Jaenara finds that she does not like how being at a loss for words makes her feel, and decides to throw back her drink, trying to find comfort in the bottom of the chalice.

[https-kreideprinz]

Someday, I'll be falling without caution !

Percy Jackson x GN! Reader

. . . Now playing: People watching by Conan Gray! . .

A/N: Hey, could you do a Percy Jackson x cabin 13 reader, where they are childhood friends and have feelings for each other? (first one making a request lol)

Notes: Nico kill a bitch. (it's 10:51pm i am so tired send help) I was gonna write more but god I literally can't right now I need a BREAK.

ׂׂૢ Percy Jackson

You had met the infamous 'Percy Jackson' in one of the many schools he had attended before finding his way at camp.

And you quickly grew close with him, a pair of social outcasts sitting in by themselves giggling about who knows what.

But unfortunately, for both of you, Percy was expelled for God knows what.

And then you find yourself in a casino, a strange casino making you forget, making your mind hazy and distracted by the lights and the smell of food.

It feels like a few days that you've stayed here, but when you're finally found and brought to camp, it’s been years.

It’s only the day after the summer solstice and camp is buzzing with excitement.

When you settle into your bed in the Hermes cabin is when you finally make out the name everyone's throwing out.

'Percy Jackson.'

But there’s no way- I mean- it can't be your Percy, right?

It is.

You catch his eye the very next day and decide to strike up a conversation.

Which ends up in a whole day talking about everything. Finding out he was a demigod, to being claimed by Poseidon. His first quest, missing you.

It spills out, finally relieved to have someone to tell.

He is less than amused when you tell him you don't know who your father is, Percy is determined to find him though. Anything to put your mind at ease.

"I promise."

After the battle of Manhattan, you are finally claimed by your dad - Hades, and move into your new Cabin with your half-brother Nico.

You also start dating Percy.

Which your brother is less than happy about.

Shrugging on your coat you smile, and you shoot one last look at the mirror. Nico stares at you, deadpanned as you fix your hair. "You're acting like you're getting married. It's a date!" He grumbles, getting ready to walk you to the cafe Percy wanted to meet with you at. And potentially punch his face in for taking his sibling away from him.

You had only known Nico for a few years, shorter than you've known Percy, but it's like you've known him your whole life, so it only made sense for him to be so overprotective over you. Your half-brother, well ever since what happened with Bianca, you felt more comfortable calling him your brother and you two stuck together. With the addition of Hazel, you were considered one of the most powerful trios most demigods have ever seen.

Nico snapped his fingers at your face, mumbling something in Italian. "Hello. Earth to [Name]. Anyone in there?" He huffs. "Come on. We have to go unless you'll be late."

You snap out of your train of thought and sit up. "Yea... let's go." You nod. Nico grabs your hand, looking annoyed as he drags you out of your shared cabin. “I still don’t get why out of everyone you pick, you go with Percy.” He grumbles and you raise an eyebrow. “I thought you and Percy were cool now?” You frown. Nico huffed. “We were. Until he took my sibling away- listen if he ever breaks your heart-” Nico grabs you by the shoulders, looking into your eyes. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

You sigh. Not this again.

Taglist: @thementallyunwellapollochild, @apollos-coolest-child, @too-queer-for-school, @chaotic-child-of-apollo, @vintage-wanderers

@solicitedfreakiness, @bows-and-olivia-rodrigo, @iam-sherlocked, @zahrawr-likes-red, @crystal-rayn

© Written By https-Kreideprinz. Do not copy, steal or translate without permission.

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Crying on your birthday

Summary: You’ve been best friends with the triplets since you were born and your boyfriend of 2 years broke up with you on your birthday and chris confesses his love to you in an interesting way;)

Warnings: Smut!! P in V, Dom!Chris, Sub!reader, choking, hair pulling, use of Y/N, unprotected sex (wrap ur snickers), Oral (fem reviving), fingering, cursing, alcohol consumption, cream pie, cursing, lowkey possessive chris?, (lemme know if i forget anything)

A/N: not requested but i had this idea cookin in my head for a WHILE!! this is a long one so be prepared!!

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i’ve known the triplets since i was born. our moms were best friends since they were 9, Marylou and My mom went to college together and even had me at the same time Marylou was pregnant with the boys. i’ve thought nothing more then the triplets as my brothers, but chris… Christopher owen.. that boy has his ways with me about ever since we hit puberty together and learned we didn’t have the same body parts, now we never showed each other we liked each other so i never knew he liked me back. marylou always told me she’d seen me with either matt or chris. once matt started dating i KNEW i was never his type.. not in the slightest. nick and i were always just besties, once he came out it made more sense why he never attempted to “flirt” with me, so we were strictly just best friends or siblings. but chris? oh no he was a huge player, he treated me like a sibling but there was something about the way he “joked” with me i knew it was something more, but none of us ever talked about it so i ignored it, and just assumed that’s his way of joking. i’ve been dating my boyfriend, Cooper, for 2 years now, things were amazing, the triplets and their parents, were super supportive of me and him considering how we were raised as siblings. my mom liked him but i knew she never loved him.

today was my 21st birthday, i was actually about to have my ‘first drink’. at least to my parents knowledge. the boys and i would always sneak alcohol behind mine and their parents back all the time from the ages of 15-19, that was till they got themselves a house in boston, and i got an apartment close by in boston as well.

i spent about an hour and a half getting ready. i wore a black tight dress with little pink bows connecting to my middle breast, pushing my breast up and against each other making them look nice. with the dress i put on some thigh high leather boots with a slight heel on them.

cooper had finally texted me saying he was at my apartment to drive us to my venue i had booked for about 300 people. i knew my 21st had to be huge. i walk

down my stairs of the building leading to coopers car, but as i’m walking to him i’m expecting his usual flirty compliments such as, ‘hey sexy u come here often’, ‘can’t wait to rip that off you tonight’, ‘gimme a twirl lemme see that ass’, but strangely, it’s like i was a ghost to him, i ignore it thinking he just had a bad day at work or something.

“Hey coop! you ready” i say getting in the car closing the door smiling.

“hm? oh yeah i’m ready” he shoots me a fake smile before flipping his phone over face down and under his thigh slowly backing out to drive to the venue.

he’s never done that before? why did he hide his phone like that? why under his leg? i wonder so many things in my head but im not gonna let it get in the way of my birthday.. not happening, been waiting on this day for YEARS, today was about me!

the drive was silent and lifeless, never in the 2 years we’ve been together had our drives ever been less then filled with laughter and jokes, or blasting music and singing along to our shared playlist together. i plug my phone up to the aux cord and start playing our shared playlist thinking maybe i could lighten the mood but that doesn’t work. hes distant and it’s irking me, but again i brush it off cause its my birthday of all days.

i text chris a simple text telling him i was close to the venue hoping he’d be there and not take his princess ass his sweet time. as we pulled up to the venue i’m all smiles and giggles and as im walking towards cooper to hold his hand as im walking into the place he drops my hand, ive officially had enough of this i stop in my tracks.

“nu uh what the fuck is ur issue, first u hide ur phone, next ur completely silent, and now u drop my hand?” i slightly yell trying not to cause a ruckus infront of the venue

“just not feeling the party mood Y/N” he says almost uninterested in my feelings

“cooper marshall?? not in a party mood?? i don’t believe it.. not for a second, u literally have ‘party monster’ tatted on your thigh.. you NEVER turn down a pary, specially for your GIRLFRIEND of 2 YEARS, might i mention” i yell pretty sternly at this point not caring who hears

“yeah Y/N i’m not in a party mood, it’s not that hard to believe.. plus ur too clingy sometimes expecally when you can’t take a hint when someone’s upset you’re still fucking attached to me at the hip, i’m not always feeling you” again uninterested in how i feel

“Cooper what the fuck? i’m too ‘clingy’ where is this coming from?” using air quotes to emphasize my words.

cooper rolls his eyes “Y/N you’re causing a scene at your party you so desperately wanted to have, let’s just go” he attempts to grab my hand to drag me inside.

i drop his hand “no, your not just gonna ignore whatever issue you have with me, ESPECIALLY on my fucking birthday cooper”

again he rolls his eyes “i’m not doing this Y/N”

my eyes widen “doing what exactly? the party? me? what?”

he sighs before running his fingers through his hair “everything Y/N.. just leave me alone, don’t text me, don’t call me, just don’t worry about me and have fun at your pitty party”

my jaw dropped, if my jaw could break, my jaw would be in hell for how low my jaw hung. “your seriously breaking up with me?”

he presses his lips together and nods “yeah i guess i am i would say im sorry but im not.. bye sav-“ he stops abruptly before trying to fix his mistake of calling me the wrong name “bye Y/N”

tears start forming in my eyes “you were cheating on me? now ur breaking up with me on my fucking birthday? i truly thought better of you..”

he turns around “it’s not like you probably aren’t fucking chris behind my back anyway, it’s only fair” he shrugs

tears streaming down my face trying to comprehend what he just said.

“fuck off cooper” i storm inside the venue and as i walk in im greeted by the three same face people i grew up with.

“i uh- we uh-“ matt starts

“yeah we- you see” chris try’s to save matt

“oh my god you guys are fucking idiots.. Y/N we saw the whole thing.. what they’re trying to say is we’re sorry” nick finishes his brothers sentences and brings me into a tight bear hug.

i sniffle into nick as matt and chris both hug me, i pull away softly.

“i-it’s okay.. let’s just party, there’s 300 people here for me, i’m 21, finally we’re all 21 together, let’s just party and get drunk” i say promoting a half assed smile

“love ur attitude Y/N but let’s actually have a good time! also you look wayy too hot to be crying on your fucking birthday” nick says with his positive energy he always promotes

“you do look good sassy” chris says with his infamous smirk.

‘Sassy’ a nickname chris gave me when we were 8 and i was starting to get into my personality being sassy and not taking bull shit from anyone.

“thank you bubbles” i say with a smile. bubbles was a nickname i gave to him when we were 5 cause he was the bubbliest boy of the three.

about an hour went by, i lost count of how many drinks i consumed that night, on average id say about 8-10, i was the drunkest here, my words were slurring, i was full on shakin ass on the air, and my vision was blurred.

“oh chrisssy pooh” i slurred as chris came up behind me helping me walk around.

he chuckles “hey sassy, you’re a little

too drunk”

“whattt” i act shocked in my drunken state “nu uh, am not”

maybe these were my drunken thoughts but his smile could lighten up hell, the way his cheeks puffed up as he smiled, the way his blue eyes sparkle.

“mhm sure, why don’t we get you in the van and take you home and call it quits hm?” nick follows chris and holds my arms up to try and attempt to hold me i lean towards chris almost falling down as he caught me like one of those corny romantic movies.

i glaze into his eyes “you’re so pretty Christopher”

he laughs and picks me up and carrys me bridal style “oh yeah you’re done for love”

i nuzzle into his neck as nick, matt, chris and i walk to the van smiling like a kid in the candy store.

i randomly start busting out into drunken laughter as chris attempts to buckle me in “you wanna know something funny? cooper told me that i was fucking chris behind his back? pft he’s like my brother”

chris laughs and closes the door on the passenger back seat as nick takes the front passenger side and runs to the driver back seat to sit next to me.

“CHRISSY” i say a little louder

“i’m here sassy” he places my head on his lap and starts playing with my hair like he used to when we were kids.

i look up at him as his blue eyes glisten against the moonlight shining into the car window as matt drives to the triplets house “your so sweet to me.. can you braid my hair”

he looks down at me and smiles “yes i can” he takes my head and turns it to the side and starts french braiding my hair like i taught him years ago.

i softly hum before drifting off to sleep until i was woken up to chris carrying me to his bedroom and i groan as he sits me down on his bed “mm chris-“ before i could even warn him im running to the bathroom and puking up every ounce of alcohol in me.

“Y/N??” he says barging in the bathroom immediately holding my hair back to help me and rubbing my back softly saying ‘it’s okay sassy’ ‘i’m here’

i finally stop puking and am just leaning my back onto chris’ chest as he runs his fingers in my hair “you feelin any better”

i softly smile “i’m pretty much sobered up now”

“you ready to get into bed? you can wear some of my clothes and stuff since you weren’t prepared for anything tonight given the circumstances of your recent breakup- oh my god im sorry i shouldn’t have mentioned that im so-“

i cut him off “chris it’s fine, i promise, if anything im already over it… i know i shouldn’t be but i pretty much am” i smile turning my body to face him now

he returns the smile at me “good, let’s get you up and changed” he helps me up off the cold bathroom tiled floor as he guides me to his bedroom and lays out a pair of ‘Fresh Love’ sweatpants and one of his ‘Lyrical Lemonade’ T-shirts for me.

“here you go sass, i’ll be outside the door just let me in when your changed, you can throw your clothes in that hamper over there and i’ll wash em in the morning” he states before attempting to walk out of the door

“Wait chris” i stop “please don’t leave, it ain’t like we used to bathe together” i continue adding a small smile to my face

“okay.. but i’m turning around” he chuckled using his pointed finger to point at me

i smile at him “okay okay..” he turns around and i take my shoes off putting them to the side carefully and taking my dress off leaving me in my bra and underwear which was a matching orange set with little to no coverage on either my breast or ass, i was gonna suprise cooper with tonight but since coopers no longer in the picture it’s just another set in my collection. i throw on chris’ clothes which were a little too big on me but alas they were comfy.

“okay goober you can turn around now” i laugh and he slowly turns around and walks his way to me grabbing my hand and spinning me around like some disney moving looking at me up and down.

“my my my, i thought you looked beautiful in that dress but my clothes looks 10x better on you” he chuckles

i’m a giggling mess “oh stop it chris, you’re just fuckin with me”

he shoots me a smirk “eh maybe i am, maybe im not..” his voice trails off almost nervously

chris? nervous? never, i’ve warned his clothes thousands of times and never once has he showered me with affection the most id normally get is ‘i better see that hoodie back in my closet’ jokingly of course.

but alas a blush creeps on my cheeks giving away i liked his compliment, i can’t deny ive always had a thing for chris, i USED to only look at him as my ‘brother who’s not actually my brother but is my brother’ but that was before i knew what boys actually were. chris and i had/have never hooked up before, granted we were each others first kiss because we entered middle school together and Marylou gave them a talk about girls that somehow interested chris and he wanted to ‘get some practice’ as he says. but we were 11, we never kissed again cause we thought it was awkward, that was until i had my first date and didn’t know how to make out, chris, the player of course, was the one i ran to to teach me. cooper knew how close we all were, i told him i’ve only ever kissed chris twice but it meant nothing, it’s not like we hooked up before.

“ma?” chris attempted to get my attention but i was LOST in my thoughts about wanting to kiss chris’ soft lips again… was it wrong to want that?

“hm? oh yeah sorry i was uh just thinking” i laughed my nervousness away

“about what?” he said walking over to his bed, i followed sitting next to him

“nosey.. but mostly just us as kids.. i still think it’s funny cooper thought we hooked up, but it brought me to the memories when we were 11 and had our first kiss” i giggled softly

“OH I REMEMBER THAT ONE” he exclaimed “we were in my bedroom at the old house and” before his attempt at telling the rest of the story i joined in

“we didn’t talk for 3 days because we thought it was weird” we said in unison

we both laugh but slowly we just start looking at each other in a not so friendly way.. more of a romantic way, now i know i just broke up with my boyfriend of 2 years and the last thing i should be doing is looking at chris wanting his nice plump limps on mine.

before i knew it chris’ lips were attached to mine but i didn’t hesitate once, i immediately kissed him back but what was weird is that he pulled away… i thought i would have pulled away.

“i-im sorry i shouldn’t have done that” chris attempts to apologize

“no you should have… i know im recently single but… i want you to kiss me again…” i attempt to make him feel better the thought of his lips on mine and everywhere else on my body just came flooding down and creating a sense of heat in between my legs

chris leans in using his hand to caress my cheek before pressing his lips on mine this time in a more passionate manner, but with a hint of sexual desire in his lips, he wanted this just as much as i did, maybe more.

i softly moan into his lips as his hand travels down to my hips and up and down my upper thigh before slowly pulling away

“is this okay…?” he looks nervously down at his hand on my thigh

i nodded but that wasn’t enough for chris

“i need to hear you say it ma, tell me if i can do this” he looks at me deeply in my eyes.

“yes chris, this is perfect” i smile

“god i’ve been waiting for this my entire life” he kisses me again while using his hand to move into the waistband of his sweatpants i had on and taking off the pants laying me down on my back and pulling away from the kiss to admire the orange set of underwear i had on.

“such a whore for wearing such slutty underwear like this like you’re asking to be fucked…” he growled placing himself in between my legs and pulling my underwear to the side and admiring the glistening from my wetness coated on my pussy almost drooling and using his finger to collect my wetness on his finger.

“fuck you’re dripping…” his finger was drenched in my arousal he took his finger in his mouth to have a taste and his eyes lit up with desire and hunger for me “cooper would be shitting himself… i bet you’ve never been this wet for him eh? only for me?” he states cockily

“mhm” i smiled and nodded before adjusting myself to take off his shirt i had on showing him the rest of the matching set i had on, both being in his favorite color and little to no coverage for my hard nipples.

that’s all it took and his mouth was attached to my clit placing open mouth kisses on it eating me like his life depends on it, eating me like a gun was placed to his head for his last meal.

a loud moan escaped through my lips as my jaw when open “chris!” i yelped “fuck you’re too damn good at- at this” i state with a shakey breath.

he moaned against my pussy sending a vibration through my body feeling his smirk against me, he lifts up to speak “i bet ur sorry excuse for an ex couldn’t treat this pussy like it deserves” he smirks

“shut up christopher and use that mouth for good use” he didn’t look to happy

“i didn’t say you could speak back to me” he lightly slaps my clit, causing my hips

to jerk forward and a soft whimper let out my lips.

“oh? you like that?” he slaps it again and another whimper softly comes out me

he dips his head down in my legs again adding a finger and curling upwards to hit my spot just right and my toes began to curl and my back arching off the bed and moans leaking from my mouth, he adds another finger curling both upwards with ease.

“oh- oh chris!” i hum softly “d-don’t s-stop please s-s-so close” my legs tremble lightly

“don’t plan on it ma” he muttered against me occasionally looking up at me supporting myself with my elbows dug into the mattress, head thrown back, with my nails twisting the sheets between my fingertips

“fuck chris i’m ab to cum” i moan out

“do it, be a good girl and cum all over my fingers” he spits moving his body upward to watch me come undone on his fingers his eyes piercing in me keeping his fingers curling up at a constant speed

“mpft- FUCK” i cursed a constant string of ‘fucks’ and ‘chris’ as my legs tremble even more and i came absolutely all over his fingers as he slowly pulls them out with a huge grin and licking my cum up on his fingers

“mmm fuck you taste amazing.. i’ve waited a long time to taste you and i’d have to say it’s the best thing that’s touched my tongue” he grins

i roll my eyes playfully trying to come down from my high “now let me suck tour dick or you fuck me into tomorrow, ur choice” i smirk

he hums softly “now i’d love to watch you suck me off but tonight is all about you sassy, so we’ll save your mouth for another night” he shoots me a wink

“there’s gonna be another night?” i ask smiling and cocking my head to the side.

“i hope you didn’t think this was a one time thing.. im gonna need your pussy in my mouth every night” he smiles pulling his pants down and his boxers down in one swift motion and taking his shirt off leaving him bare… my jaw dropped, his dick is huge… thick and LONG… the sweatpants don’t do him any justice.

he obviously catches me staring “you like what your looking at sass?”

i nod HARD… it’s so much bigger then coopers…

“good” he smirks leaning over me and pressing a passionate kiss on my lips before lining his dick up with my entrance and sliding in with ease inch by inch, i pull away moaning as he bottoms out and starts thrusting his hips at a steady pace to begin with

“oh my god, you’re so fucking tight.. and wet… fuckk” he leans his head back beginning to thrust into me a little faster

“mpfh- h-harder chris” i moan out

his hips immediately went harder hitting my spot every time again. he grabs my neck softly choking me as i’m a bigger moaning mess then i was on his fingers.

“i bet cooper could never fuck you like this… he wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy like yours” chris whispers almost growling in my ear while pounding into me causing the bed to repeatedly hit the wall

“oh chris” i groan out arching my back

“i can fuck you better then that sorry peice of shit… mmm” he groans in my ear

a loud pornographic moan escapes my lips as his tip kisses my cervix over and over again leaving my legs shaking violently beneath him.

he flips me over so my back is arched and my ass is in the air, he begins thrusting in me at a domestic pace as if he can’t control himself with me anymore he’s groaning to the point it’s almost a whimper as my ass repeatedly clapping on his pelvic bone.

“Fuckkk chris… i can feel you in my fucking throat… you’re so deep” i moan out

Smack

he lets a HARD smack on my ass before grabbing a wad of my hair and lifting me up to whisper in my ear

“you’re such a dirty whore” he says nibbling at my neck leaving dark circles on my neck “you’re mine now… no one else’s” he grunts “mine to mark” thrust “mine to fuck” thrust “mine to destroy” he lets go of my hair and pressing my head into the mattress “mine” thrust “mine” thrust “mine” my moans turns into whimpering as i become overstimulated

“c-close” i choke out, i could barely form a coherent sentence.

“mmf- me too ma… just keep taking me like a good girl you are” he groans throwing his head back, maintaining his constant hard and rough thrusts.

my legs now fully numb and shaking violently, “c-cumming” i whimper out as im releasing all over his dick leaving a white ring of cum on the base of his dick.

his thrust became sloppy as he paints my walls with his ropes of cum and slowly pulls out trying not to hurt me he rubs my lower back as i turn over and lay on my back.

“hang on ma, lemme go get a towel to clean you up” he exists the room and i hear nick from downstairs cheering

“YESSSS FINALLY YALL HOOKED UP!!! IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! but next time be quiet or wait till we’re not here yall freaks!” nick yells causing a smile to appear on my lips as chris walks in with a warm rag to start carefully wiping my legs and carefully rubbing my pussy off trying not to hurt me.

“happy birthday sassy” he smiles at me as we’re now laying down next to each other bare, skin to skin.

“thank you bubbles” i smile over at him.

“where does this leave us Y/N?” his smile drops into a nervous expression

“let’s just cuddle and we’ll talk about in the morning okay? i’m too tired” i smile at him reassuringly

he kisses my forehead bringing me closer to his chest “thank you” he whispered

“mhm” i mumbled falling fast asleep with the real man of my heart next to me.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

IDK HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS ONE??? it’s a long one but i had fun writing it! ALSO ILY GUYS!!! lemme know how yall enjoyed this one!!

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Sweet pleasures (Part 2)

Summary: You accidentally capture the attention of Lucius the Eternal while your world dies under the oppression of heretics

Lucius The Eternal/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, noncon

Word count: 1941

Author's note: I finally pulled myself together and wrote a sequel. Just before publishing, I reread Part 1 and must admit that I write better with each post. It makes me happy. Although this is my least favorite work. I will write more about Lucius (I adore him). But there will be no part 3 to this story.

Song: The Sisters of Mercy - More

In his long life, he had seen many creatures of the warp. Disgusting and seductive, communicating pleasure and agony. There were mutants, too, but almost all could be placed according to a certain characteristic. One of the brothers once told him that he was raising such cattle for his table. Fabius even became a gene father for his “children”.

Yes, Lucius had seen a lot. But you were a breath of fresh air. He had never encountered mutants capable of charming mere mortals before. As Cesare noted, your pheromones work especially well when you feel fear. A kind of protection from predators.

Of course, the space marine was thinking about turning you into a substance. Turning you into a potent drug in your dying peak of agony and pleasure was a tempting idea. But it was pointless. You were already in your original form.

It was a stroke of luck that Cohors Nasicae and the other gangs had headed to your wretched planet. Lucius was frankly bored with the entertainment that came with the battles. But even the fights themselves were predictable and terribly empty.

However, your scent, intoxicating and seductive, filled the man from the fear he caused. Reminded him of a desire he had not often resorted to despite the mercy of Slaanesh... so why not indulge himself? He is the best swordsman in the entire Galaxy. Of course, such a valuable exhibit as you should go to him. Besides, he deserved it. In a way, Lucius could even consider himself your savior.

You were frankly lucky, but eventually the Inquisition had to get on your trail. And given the reaction you caused in those around you, they would clearly regard you as seduced by a daemonette. Even if it was not true. At least until now.

The Space Marine had many trophies. Be it painted pictures or the entrails of his enemies. Lucius collected everything that seemed interesting to him, turning the chambers into a dump. This wretched planet will quickly fade from the man's memory, you are unlikely to pass for a trophy. On the other hand, he never had a pet. Lucius is sure that you do not even need to be trained. You will be an obedient girl.

***

You dreamed of finding yourself in the saving darkness again, but alas, it was only a delay of the inevitable. To die under the rubble or from the sword of blessing. Many were unlucky and their bodies and souls were mocked for a long time. And yet, all the unfortunate eventually gave up the ghost. All who participated in the ritual who served the new masters for a short time. All.

Except you. And that was the most terrible thing. When half-dead slaves, stinking of fear and pain, brought you to reality, you were ready to kill them. And later you were ready to beg them to save you from your gloomy future. But all you did was quietly cry.

You would have laughed at the name of the ship if you had not been so morally exhausted. Diadem. Such an elegant name, more suitable for the crew of a spoiled and naive aristocrat. Once you pretended to be exactly like that to get to the ball. Although now you wonder if they really believed you. Or were they so enchanted by you that they decided to turn a blind eye.

It was probably the latter. You were beginning to doubt your talents. You had nothing to offer the Imperium but your charm. But you never will. The slaves made it clear to you that you had only one task now. To entertain Lucius the Eternal. The flawless and shining blade of the Emperor's Children. The greatest champion of Slaanesh.

It is such an honor, they said. Despite all the desire to fall into hysterics and spit on the slaves, you felt pity. These creatures are but a shell of what were once a humans. Now they are only convenient tools and pleasant flesh to cut and eat. Filled with nothing but feelings and desires, rejected by the God-Emperor.

And you will soon be one of them. You will drag out your miserable existence far from the light. You will forget your home and will begin to perceive this ship as an extension of yourself. Stained with blood and secretions, mangled and executed in the most wretched form. The Diadem was only a parody of beauty.

And although the slaves, furiously washing you, said that a different fate awaited you, you could not believe in the best. Maybe you will not blend into the crowd. Maybe you will have a better position. But for traitors, you are nothing more than a tasty piece of meat. Which should serve for a very long time.

Perhaps an eternity, given the nickname of your master.

Your small washed body in silks looks alien in this place. You were like a feather or a breath of wind. Inconspicuous. Insignificant. While bright colors and many trophies screamed about luxury and depravity. They were much more suitable for their disgusting master, who deigned to return to his own chambers.

At the sight of you, waiting for him, a carnivorous smile paints the man's face. So wide that some of the small scars open up, staining the pale skin red with blood. You feel sick just from the sight of it, but the worst thing is when the monster starts talking.

“You stink, you know that?” - the man runs his tongue over his lips, slowly removing the armor. The parts filled with human faces slide off his body on their own. - “Sickeningly sweet and sour. An incredible range of emotions. You would make an excellent perfume, sugar.”

You can no longer restrain yourself and begin to cry loudly. Only a scream leaves your lips. No matter how much you want to, you cannot speak, you cannot force yourself to beg. Even knowing your inevitable fate, you desperately cling to a non-existent hope.

“Well, well, my dear. I haven’t even had time to do anything, and you’re already spoiling me.” - the man moans, clutching his sides, sucking in air like a starving man. And yet his face twitches, either from discontent or from thoughtfulness. - “But fear alone is not enough.”

A completely naked, grotesquely pale and fleshy man approaches the wall before pulling out a sleek, thin sword. Lucius runs it over his tongue, cutting through the soft flesh. You cringe at the sight, glad that your stomach and bladder have emptied while you were being prepared. At least that way you won't embarrass yourself.

You don't even have time to breathe before the metal lightly touches your hand. Looking down, you see a thin, surgically precise cut. As the blood begins to show, you realize reality. And with it, pain.

Another swing and another scratch appears on your palm. A scream echoes through the room. It takes you a moment to realize that it's coming from your throat. A groan echoes above your ear. The man almost purrs, sinking down onto the bed next to you. His sword smoothly traces your side before cutting through the flesh. The process is much slower this time. And more painful. You burst into tears even more.

“Believe me, I don’t want to hurt you at all. I’ll force myself to.” - Lucius kisses your cheek softly before nuzzling your neck. - “I would have been less merciful with other slaves. Still, I had to know what you smell like when you’re in pain.”

A rough tongue gently traces a line from your shoulder to your cheek, leaving a bloody trail. Before invading your mouth. The Space Marine throws away his sword and you could breathe a sigh of relief if you had anything to breathe with.

Now with both free hands, the man touches you, greedily digging his fingers into your flesh, leaving bruises. For a second, you think that a little more and you will suffocate. But Lucius breaks away from your lips with a loud pop and you just can’t help but start gulping for air as if it will be taken away from you again.

“And this,” the man leans towards you, his velvety voice gently touching your ears. - “Absolutely amazing.”

You sob, tired of screaming and crying, while someone else’s hands begin to tear your clothes. “One day you will learn to enjoy pain, sugar. In the meantime, let me get it for you in a different way.”

“N-no.”

“Yes. You will like it, just relax.” - the man presses his right hand to your legs. Or what is left of it. The red tentacles are already quite wet on their own, and therefore easily pass inside you. You squeak, trying to move away, but someone else’s hand does not allow you to do this, pressing the narcotic drink to your mouth, which you are forced to swallow. - “I will take care of it.”

The madness of the flesh captured you. And if at first you resisted, then soon you gave in to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. And yet, the worm of shame crept up in your stomach, not allowing you to let go of the pieces of your mind so easily. Especially when, under the veil of fog, you heard about how perfect you were. But you, broken and shattered, could not agree with it.

***

Eternity is a flexible concept. In the end, everything can become boring at any moment. And unprecedented suffering, which used to cause pain, could instantly turn into pleasure. Or at least you could get used to it.

This was your option. Your only release. The only salvation. Let the master enjoy your body, get drunk on drugs to make it easier. Get used to these chambers. Get used to the fact that the Diadem is your new home. Forever.

You get tired of looking in one corner and turn over on the bed, finding a familiar face. You can get used to all the horrors and inhumanity, but perhaps you will never be able to get used to the sleeping Lucius. At this moment, his face calms down and it is as if he turns into another person. Into the previous version of himself, forever lost and rejected by him.

He has always been a braggart. And he has always improved himself in the art of war. This was his identity, and it was this that began his corruption. But he once believed in the Imperium. Once he fought for humanity, not for the Dark Gods. You did not know that Lucius and you will never know.

And you did not want to.

Your broken part defeats you and you cling to his chest. In all the time you were on Diadem, he gave you so much. You could taste every part of the Imperium. From clothes and food to base entertainment.

You did not need to lie and get all this from different people. Only Lucius could give you everything. He asked for little. Yes, everything worked out well. You wanted to see the Imperium. And you saw it. And even more. You could have any pleasure you wanted. Except maybe freedom.

You gently wrap yourself around the man, putting into this gesture all the love that remained in your heart. Not noticing how the devil's eyes watch your slow decay. How in the depths of the doomed soul, sadness and shame, seemingly lost long ago, appear.

But being a slave to pleasure, he also cannot let these feelings go free. You two, like all slaves of Chaos, can only continue your torment, calling it happiness and blessing.

[popquizhot-shot]

O my gosh do you think you can do a Miguel x teen reader. Where the reader has been in a depressed mood lately and no one can figure out what's wrong till they reveal that their headphones broke on their last mission and it was the last thing their remaining family member gave to them before they died and they blaime themselves for not being more careful with them.

Headphones-Miguel O’Hara x teen!reader.

As someone who’s emotionally attached to her heradpjones yes I can and will write this. Thank you all so much for the love and support from my last post! I’ll be taking a short break after this and I hope you all like it! Please comment and reblog if you do :D love you<3333

Warnings: Implied Hobie brown x reader; mostly fluff dw, crying.

ART BY THE AMAZING @thattripleabattery

“Is it just me, or is something off about her?” Miles nods towards you who is sitting all alone away from and sipping juice desolately as they all listen to Miguel’s newest monthly goal meeting.

“Something looks off about her, like something’s missing.” Gwen narrows her eyes at your figure.

You just keep nodding at intervals and try to pay attention but all you can think about are the headphones your brother had given you.

You considered them an extension of you, going so far as to even sometimes wear them during light missions while you waited for the threat to show up.

Your last mission had been gruelling, so bad to the point that both Jess and your dad had suggested you take a break from fighting to recuperate.

You were so devastated on the inside, all you did was just nod.

You knew that Miguel knew you were off. It was obvious that you joked less and acted tired. Not to mention the little amount of sleep you got.

It was stupid really, all this drama over a pair of headphones. Yet, they were the last connection you had to your brothers and it felt like you had truly lost your family when they broke into two.

Your mind was literally empty as you nodded at whatever Miguel was saying. You just dipped your juice and kept zoning in and out. It felt wrong that they weren’t there around your neck where they usually were.

Miguel started to notice your constant fidgeting and the way your hands kept rubbing your neck. He had also noticed your dull nature and the way your sweet smile stopped making its way onto your face.

Even to his lamest dad jokes, you’d respond with a huff and small twist of your lips.

As he wrapped up the plan, his eyes flit to yours and he saw you still nodding, your eyes glassy.

He takes a deep breath, “Dismissed, all of you leave. Now.”

The shuffle of chairs fills the room as everyone files out one by one.

He says your name, “Stay back.” And turns around to look at the hologram.

Miles and Gwen look at each other and then at you, who breathes in and nods without a word.

Once everyone has left, he turns back around to find you looking at him with your hands behind your back.

“What happened?” He asks and you sign.

“Nothing.”

“It’s rude to lie.”

“Manners maketh man and all that jazz.” You reply with a roll of your eyes.

“Seriously.” He raises his eyebrow and his hand rests on your shoulder, “You okay?”

“Yeah, god I’m fine! I was just an irresponsible shit and I broke my headphones.”

His eyebrows furrow, “The ones your brother gave you?”

You clench your jaw and nod, eyes smarting as you struggle not to cry at the thought.

He shrugs, “They’re just headphones, kid. You can always get another.”

You just scoffed, “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, you get it right?”he tips his down to make a point.

“Yeah, yeah whatever.” You smile wryly and turn away so that he can miss the tear forming in your eye, “Cool, I’ll uh catch you later boss man.”

He stares after your retreating figure with remorse, did he say something wrong?

“You dumb idiot.” Lyla pops up.

“What?” He snarls, whirling to look at her.

“She was really attached to those headphones, Miguel.”

“She can always get new ones, Lyla. I’m getting them for her anyway.”

“Miguel it’s as if her brother died all over again.” Lyla replies firmly, “She’s hurting, ans you made her feel worse.”

Miguel hangs his head, “Shit.”

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, but after years of shutting himself out, he didn’t understand people’s feelings like he used to, and he wanted with every fibre of his being to cheer you up, and he managed to screw it up.

“You need to go apologise and fix this.” Lyla points towards the doorway.

——————-

“It’s okay. Let it all out.” Hobie’s soothing voice is calming as his hand travels up and down your back to soothe you.

You breathe deeply before letting out another broken sob that only makes you more embarrassed, and in front of Hobie of all people. The guy just oozed absolute “don’t care” energy while still simultaneously being one of the most caring people you’d ever met.

Your apologies are hushed and he takes your face between his hands and wipes your tears from your cheeks, “You look pretty even when you cry.”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

You hug him again, “Thank you.”

“I know what it’s like to lose something like that, and I’m sorry. But I know you will get over it and I salute you for being so brave.” He winks, “I’ve gotta run, catch you later.”

He quickly kisses your forehead and dashes off, leaving you stunned. After a few moments, a smile makes its way onto your puffy face.

“I’m going to kill that kid.” Miguel seethes as he watches from the camera.

———-

You were exhausted after a long day of training and you couldn’t wait to just go and fall asleep in your quarters.

The door swung open easily and your eyes flitted to the shabbily wrapped present on your bed. The bed that was unmade in the morning but was miraculously made and cleaned now.

Your eyes narrow as you tear away the wrapping to find a near identical pair of headphones to the ones that broke and your eyes widen in shock as you hold them up in front of you.

There’s a post-it stuck to the wrapping paper and you read the note that is unmistakably written by Miguel. You can recognise his chicken scratch handwriting.

“Im sorry for hurting your feelings this morning. And I hope this makes up for it. Don’t blame yourself, it was an accident and accidents happen. Im proud that you learnt your mistake and that you act so wise for your age, despite the fact that you decide to go to a weird British punk spider for advice, I am still proud of you. No es tu culpa, none of this is your fault.

Love,

Dad.”

—————-

“She seems to be in a much better mood today.” Gwen nudges Miles.

“She’s smiling and trying to get him to laugh.” Miles grins at your antics.

“Wait her headphones! They were missing, they’re back around her neck, that’s probably why she was in a shitty mood!” Pavitr reasons as Gwen nods in agreement.

“Are the three of you paying attention?” Miguel looks pointedly at the three kids and his glare then falls in Hobie who is seated next to you.

“Everyone dismissed!”

As everyone files out he says yet again, “Hobart, stay back.”

[littlecrittereli]

I’m both insane for you guardian au and your reprogram au…

Questions!! :3

1 in the guardian au does Chris ever curse and what is Martin reaction?

2 In guardian au has Chris accidentally called Martin dad?

3 what would happen if in a crossover of guardian and reprogram au, if Chris actually DOES get kidnapped and tortured by Diego??

4 what would happen if both Chris and Martin were kidnapped in reprogram au?

Love your art btw! It’s very pretty

Thank you! Thank you! <3

Answers!!!

1. Sometimes! He doesn't a lot because Martin raised him to be respectful, but Aviva also accidentally taught him how to curse in Spanish so.... sometimes he gets away with it. (Martin tries really hard not to curse in front of Chris but sometimes it slips out and then Chris will never let him live it down)

2. Nope! While Martin does act as Chris' caretaker, and is more fatherly than a normal sibling relationship, Chris does not see Martin as his dad. Obviously no one would blame him for it, but Chris doesn't ever want it to seem like he's replacing or forgetting his actual dad. Chris was 8 when they passed, so while he doesn't have as many memories as Martin, he was old enough to form a parental bond with his dad. Unfortunately, Martin can never replace that. But Chris still acknowledges Martin as his guardian, and knows how much Martin sacrifices to take care of him.

3. If the events of Reprogrammed transpired in guardianship AU, Diego simply wouldn't have even considered taking Chris. In guardianship AU, Chris does not have a Creature Power Suit. He has a Creature Power Belt, which has far less capabilities. Diego most likely would take his chances with trying to reprogram Martin's suit. Not to mention Chris is like 14, Diego would just consider him a nuisance at most and leave him alone. (Also I'm standing firm on the belief that this Chris would solo Diego. He'd get so pissed off from being overlooked LOL)

4. I think I've talked about this before but I can't find the post rn so I'll answer again! Basically Diego uses mental and emotional manipulation to seem more powerful than he actually is. He most likely would use Chris and Martin against each other in order to keep them in-line. It would take him a little to figure out, because Diego only thinks about himself, so he assumes everyone else is selfish too. But once he realizes that Chris and Martin care more about others than themselves, he would absolutely use it to his advantage. Unfortunately it would also be his downfall... It's easier to break someone down in solitude. If both of the brothers were in danger, they would both be working just as hard to save the other.

[ninyard]

Nin, light of my life. I wanna know how you hc Andrew and Aaron's relationship after college. I love doomed by the narrative sibling relationships but I honestly can't see either of them losing contact with one another considering how much they fought to stay in orbit.

I’ve very briefly talked about Aaron/Andrews relationship post TKM but honestly okay this is just one of many opinions on everything but I don’t really think they keep in contact THAT much until there’s a reason to but hear me out

I think maybe two years post TKM, in a session with Betsy, Aaron says something about Drake/Andrew and it’s as if there’s a switch that has been flicked on their relationship. They don’t really talk that much, still, but they have a really fucking raw and honest conversation that day. Andrew is receptive, and they’re talking, and it’s just so deep and intimate it’s not like any conversation they’ve had before.

There’s a lot of things tarnished but changed in their relationship by both the death of Tilda and the death of Drake. Aaron can’t help but see Andrew differently once he finds out about Drake, and maybe that’s something they talk about more, because it really humanises Andrew for him. Like a LOT. It’s like, “Okay, now there’s a reason why he is the way that he is. He’s not just an asshole for fun.” Andrew can’t help but see Aaron differently when maybe at some point he compares Tilda to Cass, putting up with abuse (by Drake/by Tilda) just to feel loved, to feel like you have a place. I don’t know. A lot of things change about how they see each other, but they still don’t feel like they could be…friends? Theyll be able to have a joke once in a blue moon, or they’ll talk to each other if there’s nobody else to talk to, but they’re not exactly texting each other for advice. Aaron still doesn’t trust him around Katelyn, and Andrew is fine with that.

They take pictures with each other at their graduations, though, and Andrew goes to his med school graduation and has drinks with him the day he becomes Dr Aaron Minyard, and every now and again they’ll text each other something that reminds them of each other. Like Andrew will text Aaron: “You” And it’s just like a meme about being a doctor or something

etc etc etc

but I believe this if Katelyn were to get pregnant, or they were getting married, or either of them finally had to chance to be a real loving caring family, they’d come together and be in much better contact with each other. Like their texts would look like this but it’s SOMETHING you know??? It’s a relationship they never had before?? Idk

I think in their real adult lives, with families and careers and people to look after that isn’t themselves, it’d bring them together a whole lot more than anything else. They both realise this is an opportunity to be different than their families, to raise their lineage in a more loving environment than what they grew up in, you know? Andrew sees an opportunity to break the cycle, and maybe he mentions this to Bee or Neil and they’re like yeah you’re right. You’re an Uncle now. You’re a brother-in-law.

I think at the end of it all, continuing on their families becomes the thing to bring them the closest together. I think then, maybe they’ll have a drink and laugh and sing together at some Christmas holiday sometime in the way way way distant future. Maybe they’ll go fishing together while Katelyn is minding the baby. I can see them being brothers then.

[thorin-is-a-cuddler]

Dark words and warm hugs

A/N: Benedict steals a poem from underneath your nose to get on your nerves, willing to read it out to the entire family. But he does not expect the poem to be as sad as it turns out to be. Hurt/Comfort fanfic with mostly Benedict and (Y/N), but Colin, Eloise, Hyacinth and Gregory also play a role in it. (I have left open what exactly the poem is about so that everyone can put a spark of themselves into this! I hug you all!)

“Benedict! Give. It. BACK!”

Decisively you stomped after your brother who was scurrying into the living-room like a giddy cookie thief, holding a folded sheet of paper in his hand. Hyacinth looked up in wonder from the pianoforte, while Gregory and Colin stopped swinging wooden swords at each other. Eloise didn’t even bother raising her eyes from her book, quite contrary to your mother who dropped the newspaper onto the table before her so suddenly that the paper got wrinkled. Sighing loudly, she followed her second youngest daughter and her second eldest son with attentive eyes to make sense of the sudden commotion.

Benedict quickly took shelter behind one of the sofas and teasingly waved the paper in his hand, when you came to a halt on the other side of the piece of furniture.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he taunted, the smugness making his smirk seem almost devilish, “now be a good sister and stay right where you are! We are civilized people after all!”

“So civilized,” you fired back at him with a force that made your mother flinch and Colin blink, “that you come into my room and steal poems from under my nose! It is not ready, give it back to me!”

“Now, now, that is a very serious accusation, dearest sister! I did not steal a single thing, I simply picked it up to- HGH!” The unexpected manoeuvre to jump on the sofa and attempt to grab your brother behind it failed, when Benedict circled it fast enough to end up behind the backrest of the one standing on the other side of the room. Next to it, your mother was sitting at a small table, watching you both with growing surprise.

“(Y/N), would you please refrain from climbing on the furniture with your shoes on!” She chastised half-heartedly, too enraptured in the quick changing of positions you and your brother were engaged in at the very moment to think of ending it all with one simple order.

Your shoulders slumped down and your voice was tinted by utter disappointment when you directed your complaint at your mother. “Mamma, how can you tell me off when my so called brother is the one who is acting like a complete child-“

“Oh, scarry moon, oh splendid field-“

“NOO!!” You screamed so loud that Gregory actually yelped in pain and proceeded to cover his ears. Benedict giggled like a three year old as he interrupted his aloud reading of your verses to escape yet another one of your attempts to get your hands on him. You ended up on opposite sides of the sofa, Eloise was reading on, and she did not seem happy about the disruption.

“Can’t you take your shenanigans outside?” She groaned, when you had circled her sofa twice, Benedict still giggling and you still huffing in frustration.

“Why is not one of my beloved siblings considering to help me??” You called out in frustration, glaring daggers at your smirking brother who thought himself invincible in that very moment.

“Perhaps they are all as excited as I am to hear what our dear sister puts onto paper on this lovely, lovely morning!” Benedict declared, as he tried to peek another glance at the dark lines covering the page.

“Well, perhaps it is not meant for either of your eyes to see nor ears to hear!!” You extended your hand meaningfully to demand your poem back from your brother, but he merely made a pitiful grimace and sucked in the air through his teeth apologetically.

“Ah, see, (Y/N), the problem is that that only intrigues me even more.”

And with that he resumed his reading – silently at the very least – as he continued to stumble away from your attempts to get him to stop. Until he did actually stop. His expression changed entirely, from humorous to serious, and he looked up from the paper with blue eyes full of remorse. That only made it worse for you.

“(Y/N), I…”

“Are you happy now??” You shouted, feeling anger put its feeble hands around your throat and suffocate your voice with tears and shame. “You think everything is so funny! Well, sometimes it’s not!” Deeply hurt, you ripped the paper out of his hands and threw your fists against his chest once with force. He barely moved from the impact, but shrunk in on himself nevertheless, his eyes dripping with regret and his lips growing hard.

You didn’t wait for another word from anyone of your shocked family, turned on your heels and hurried out of the grand room to find solace and shelter in your own space. You heard Benedict shout your name again, but did not look back. With the back of your hand you brushed away the tears that threatened to fall, as you ran up the stairs, far away from the shame that was left in the room with everyone else. You shut the door behind you, turned the key in the lock and hid yourself in your bed to cry and to forget about it all – the shame, Benedict’s look of horror when he realized what you had written, but mostly the thing itself. You promised yourself never to write about such matters again, if the only outcome was the incomprehension of everyone you cared about.  

It hurt you especially that it had been Benedict who had reacted that way. Anthony, alright, Daphne, sure. But Benedict? You’d always considered him to be the most empathetic Bridgerton, the softest and sweetest. But apparently his understanding knew its limits as well. You wanted him to come to your room and make it all better again, but at the same time you didn’t want him anywhere near you in that moment. You were not sure, you’d be able to take it if you brother were to treat this matter as if it disgusted him, as if you disgusted him.

No, for now, all that was left for you was your pillow and the safe warmth of your blanket.

It did not take long for Benedict to come to your door and knock as carefully as if he was knocking on a wound he did not mean to worsen any further.

“(Y/N)?”

You put a pillow over your head and tried to sink deeper into your sheets to disappear from the face of the earth forever.

“(Y/N), can I please talk to you? Please?”

As always, your brother’s gentle voice made you feel weak and defenceless and stirred the need to be held and cradled by him for many hours until nothing hurt anymore. But this time, his voice also carried a needle with it that stung you in the lungs and made it harder to breathe.

“Go away,” you called weakly, your own words making you sad enough to bring tears to your eyes. You did not actually want him to go, but you were also scared to face his judgement on your words.

You could hear your brother let out a shuddered breath before your door – he was not used to you telling him to ‘go away’ in a serious manner and it hurt him like an actual weapon. His pain only worsened your own, since it all seemed to come from you; you were the source of all the pain that circulated in the Bridgerton mansion that very day and you did not know how to make it stop.

“(Y/N), please,” Benedict asked again, his voice shaking ever so slightly. “Can I please be there for you right now? Please. Please.”

The pauses between his words made your tears roll down your cheeks big and hot and painful. Why did your brother have to use lines that made your insides feel weaker than pie filling? Of course, you wanted him to be there for you. You did not want him to think less of you. You did not want to see an ounce of wariness in his eyes. All you wanted was for him to forget you’d ever written the lines of that day. Perhaps, he would grant you that wish…

“Wait,” you sniffed out shakily and got up from your bed. With a thumping heart in your chest, you walked to the door and unlocked it, only to then make a run for your bed again in order to hide your tear stained face from Benedict’s curious eyes.

You heard the door creak as it opened and the gentle click when it closed again. Footsteps approached the bed carefully and came to a halt right next to you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, when you felt the mattress move beneath his weight and turned you face away, when your brother lifted the light blanket you were hiding beneath to slip underneath it as well. He let it fall around the two of you, the light of the day bright enough to make everything perfectly visible under the textile’s protection.

“Hey,” he breathed out in a consoling tone, his hand gently curling around your shoulder. Your lips turned into a thin line to keep quiet, but a sob shook your body so violently that nothing could have contained or concealed it. “Oh, (Y/N), it’s alright. It’s going to be alright. I am here!” You wanted to stay turned away from your brother, but he repeated such nice calming words while rubbing over your back that you would have needed a heart of stone to remain indifferent. Violently, you turned around and threw your arms around him, your following sobs muffled by his white shirt. He wrapped his arms around you as tightly as possible and carded his fingers through your hair, repeating a calming noise until your sobs turned from earthquakes into human noises again that allowed you to speak.

“I am sorry I hit you!” You stuttered into your brother’s arm, holding on to his shoulders for dear life to un-hug the way you’d pushed him earlier. Benedict made a disregarding noise and rubbed your back a few times to convince you of how little it meant to him.

“Please, (Y/N), you had every right to be angry with me. There is nothing you need to feel sorry for. I should never have read that poem. You did not want me to do it and I did not respect that. It is I who is sorry. Truly sorry!” It was his turn to bury his face in your shoulder and hold on to your shoulders, asking for forgiveness with every fragile breath that blew against your ear. It saddened you so much that fresh tears sprang to your eyes. You copied his movement from earlier and started rubbing up and down his back to soothe him. Apparently he had been just as scared as you had been that you might treat him coldly or with little understanding. The thought seemed ridiculous to you now – as if that could ever have truly happened with you or Benedict.

“At the same time, I am glad I read it, (Y/N). I am glad I got to see the fears you are apparently dealing with all by yourself. They are very substantial and best not shouldered alone.” For the first time since he’d entered your room, you moved your face in front of his, letting him see the wreckage of your puffy eyes and witnessing the red-rimmed ones of his. You gently pushed your ever-cold fingers against his cheeks and felt your lips twitch, when his eye-lids closed in relief.

“I was scared you might think them weird. Or rather … me!” You admitted, breathing out calmly when your brother’s hands moved up to cup your face. He opened his blue eyes and looked at you fondly.

“Nothing could ever make me think you weird,” he stated with emotion in his voice. “You are my sister and I will tease you for the rest of your days, but unless you drink exotic tea from Greece, I will never ever think you weird!”

That actually made you laugh despite the tear-heavy weight on your voice. His features immediately grew lighter again and his lips curled upwards.

“And I must say,” he continued, “the dark issue aside – it was a really good poem.”

“You think so?” You asked surprised, your eyes growing wider.

He nodded meaningfully. “Yes! You have a way with words, (Y/N). It is a talent you should pursue further! Don’t be scared of the dark parts it might reveal within you. But never forget to talk to me about it…”

“In fact,” you looked him in the eyes, lifting the blanket a little with your hand to be able to look at them directly, without any fabric getting in the way, “I was going to ask you to forget you’ve ever read the one from this morning… I don’t wish to remember it myself!”

Benedict narrowed his eyes for a moment, before he made a quick gesture next to his head, accompanied by a grimace. “Done!” He exclaimed. “I have successfully forgotten everything about it.”

You were about to roll your eyes, when he gasped loudly. “In fact I seem to have forgotten everything else as well. How did I get here? Why are we under this blanket? Who are you??”

Biting your tongue usually helped, when you wanted to keep from laughing, but not when it came to Benedict. A grin worked its way on your face as you tried to grab a hold of his gesticulating hands. “Ben, stop!”

“Where am I? Who am I??” He threw the blanket off the two of you, allowing for you both to breathe fresh air again and get blinded by daylight, as you tried to get a hold on your exaggerating brother.

“Ben!!” You chuckled, fighting to keep him on the mattress as he moved into a sitting position.

“I am not even sure of what I am anymore! A cat, a man, a weasel??”

“You are so silly!” You groaned through your laughter, sitting up as well and placing your hands on his shoulders.

Benedict squinted his eyes at you insecurely and stopped his little act, a blush creeping over his cheeks. “Not too silly, I hope.”

You remembered the words you had fired at him earlier, about how everything seemed to be funny to him. Apparently you had scratched at his core with that statement. Regret came over you again and you slumped in on yourself slightly. To make up for it, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pushed your head against his, humming when you felt one of his arms warm on your own.

“No, brother, you are not too silly for me!”

He gently rubbed his hand over your arm for a while, indulging in the hug for a few moments, before he suddenly made his upper body fall back on the sheets, taking you down with him. With a quiet shriek, you fell on his chest, laughing brightly, when his hands grabbed for you and pulled you entirely on top of him. His glinting blue eyes promised schemes of mischief and fun.

“How about we make you fly again, like when you were little?”

You scoffed meaningfully and pushed yourself up slightly, you fingers digging into his collarbone making him flinch – something you noted with a little smirk. “I am way too heavy for that now, brother!”

“Says who?”

“Says I!” You squeezed his sides playfully, making him yelp and bark out a breathy laugh. You waggled your eyebrows at him.

“I think there are better ways to entertain ourselves now!”

“Don’t even think about it!” He threatened with a determined look in his eyes. But your position gave you quite the advantage, so there was little he could do, when your hands decided to find their way past his arms and into his armpits, forcing him to throw his head back with deep, hearty laughter.

“NO PLEASE!” He giggled instantly, turning his head from left to right and trying to push you off, which included getting his hands on your knees and squeezing them rapidly. That was unfortunately a counter attack that worked quite well on you and so you found yourself pinned underneath him way too quickly, doomed to suffer at the hands of the ingenious tickler your brother was, always had been and always would be.

“Oh how the turn tables,” he laughed, as his hands wandered up and down your shaking sides, reducing you to a giggling mess and leaving you no chance to wiggle out from underneath him.

You were laughing so hard, you barely heard your door opening a crack with Colin peering inside, the younger siblings and Eloise by his side. Benedict only noticed it, when Colin whispered something to Hyacinth and Gregory and they came storming in with a war cry, jumping on top of their older brother and trying to push him off of you. Benedict’s exaggerated wails of terror and your younger siblings rather quirky attempts to overpower him made your laughter only increase. Benedict felt compelled to raise his arms and shout “I am not touching her!” to prove himself innocent of your hysterics, but that only made matters easier for the legacy of siblings at your service now. Hyacinth used the opening to start tickling underneath Benedict’s arms, while Gregory pushed at your brother to make him fall over. Benedict couldn’t keep from chuckling at Hyacinth’ technique, but grabbed Gregory, your knight in shining armour to subdue him to some tickling of his own. This was when Colin emerged into the room, with Eloise following suit, both of them pointing fingers at Benedict.

“We see the advance-guard has been overpowered. But we will not be such easy targets!”

Eloise cackled smugly, when she saw Benedict’s expression turn quite horrified at the outlook of such a team fighting against him and immediately let go off the giggling Gregoy. You wrapped your arms around your youngest brother and bit your lip in anticipation of what was to come next. It moved you that the other four had come to help you. It moved you that Benedict had come up to make things alright again, but things would look even brighter, in your opinion, if your second oldest brother would have to fight off an entire Bridgerton army at your service.

Benedict seemed to reconsider his options and huffed out a scared little chuckle, raising his hands. “Now… we’re all good friends here, are we not?”

Eloise, Colin, Hyacinth and Gregory all looked at you with expectant brows and you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I’d say… on him!”

Benedict made a choked noise in his throat and grabbed his chest to convey the amount of betrayal he felt. “You too, Brutus?” But he winked at you and he was already laughing at his siblings’ antics before anyone of the others had come near to touching him. With a loud war cry they wrestled him onto the sheets and proceeded to tickle him wherever they could reach. Eloise was expertly subduing his knees to spidery tickles, while Hyacinth squeezed his legs and Gregory and Colin dug their hands into all the open spots on his upper body. Benedict had probably not known how hard he could laugh, but it was highly infectious and forced you all to chuckle alongside him. You put an end to their attack rather quickly and tried to wrap your arms around them all at the same time to pull them all into a big hug.

No matter what fears sometimes kept you gnawing at the end of your pencil as you wrote into your books, nothing was greater a remedy to your anxiety than the family you had. And when Benedict pulled you into his arms, still warm from laughing, you weren’t scared of a thing in the world.

[smooth-perceval]

Always wanting more.

Lando Norris x Leclerc!Reader

PART ONE

Summary: Charles sister was strictly off limits- Lando and reader find themselves in a tricky situation when lusting turns to loving.

Warnings: 18+ no smut but I will consider smutty scenes. Swearing, angst, angry Charles, switched POVS, flirting. NO PROOF READ! Google translate- Eerrrr I think that’s all! 👀

Key: Y/N (Your Name) Y/E/C (Your eye colour)

Word count: 4791

A/N: I gotta thing for Lando at the moment- alsoooo I have been on holiday so I haven’t wrote a single thing, enjoy this though! There is a tag list!!

Lando’s POV

Y/N Leclerc… where do I begin?

We were introduced to each other I’d say 2 years ago… and truthfully I’m obsessed with her. I know when she walks into a room, I know when she is nervous, when she is happy, even sad. I know her.

And I want her.

Day in, day out.

Meeting her is when I finally understood addiction, she was my drug. My pill to keep me sane- I was well and truly addicted to her.

Unfortunately I can’t have her, Leclerc’s rules… I hate Leclerc.

The rule when we met was specifically look but never touch, well really it was-

—

“Norris, eyes off my fucking sister.” Charles shoved my shoulder, glaring at me. In my head I had thoughts of doing so, just not with my eyes.

Gulping my brows knitted together, and I was frantically shaking my head. “I wasn’t looking at her.”

“Really? Cause the drool on your chin says otherwise.” Folding his arms across his chest, he moved to stand in-front of me.

“Listen, and listen good. Stay away from my sister, she doesn’t need another driver in her life- believe me. And even so I definitely wouldn’t want her with anyone here. Got it?” Raising his eyebrows at me, I nodded my head slightly.

“So keep your wandering eyes to yourself.”

“Charlieee!” And as if on cue she skipped over happily… her Y/E/C eyes landing straight on me, and maybe it was in my mind but her smile widened.

“Hi! I’m Y/N, I’m so happy to finally meet you!” Aside from the obvious she was completely different from her brothers, she was more warm and welcoming- I froze when she moved in to hug me. Conflicted on whether or not to accept the hug and potentially be killed by her brother, or reject the hug and be killed by the look on her face after the rejection.

“Nice to meet you too I’m Lando.” Staring into Charles soul, I reciprocated the hug keeping my hands hoovering over her waist barely touching her. If I didn’t have my eyes so wide they would’ve rolled back into my head-

Her touch set me alight, her smell was sweet like candy floss at a funfair, she was squeezing herself against me- by god she felt perfect against me.

“Ahem.” Clearing his throat he raised his eyebrows at me once again, waking me from my trance that I call his sister.

“I better go- I got quali…” pulling away from her quickly, she stumbled back. “Oh right- I’ll let you both go.” Turning she smiled at Charles touching his arm like a motherly instinct. “Good luck Char” followed by two cheek kisses- she then turned back to me, her cheeks blushed red. “Good luck Lando.” Followed by a little wave she practically ran away, looking over her shoulder at me every so often that smile never faltering, them cheeks still shining red.

“Lando.” Shoving my shoulder again- my attention falling onto Charles who was shaking his head. “Stop.”

“I’m sorry-”

I really wasn’t.

—

I knew she had arrived on Charles boat, something about her aura caused the atmosphere to change, and I soon found myself trying to seek her out in the crowd full of people. Just a glimpse of her and I’d say it was a good party.

“Lando!” My heart pounded in my chest, her arms were thrown over my shoulders and tightly secured around my neck. God she smelt wonderful- why does she always smell so good?

Returning the hug keeping it short for any prying eyes she stood infront of me, shame on me for allowing my eyes to wander. She had on a beach cover up underneath was a bright orange bikini… McLaren orange-

What is she doing to me…

“I- er” pointing at just her in general trying to muster the courage to compliment her and not sound like an absolute weirdo.

“I like you- your bikini- your whole outfit! You-” I fucked it. Shaking my head I took a moments breath. “You look lovely.”

A shy grin plastered onto her face as she looked down at her outfit. “You think?” Her hands picked at her sleeve, subconsciously stepping closer to me.

“You always look lovely.” Now I’ve complimented her- I couldn’t stop I wanted to tell her every minute of every hour of every day for the rest of my life.

“Can we talk? Away from everyone here?”

Y/N POV

I’ve always liked Lando- before I even met him, sure I’d watch the race for my brothers but secretly when Lando’s face showed up on screen I felt giddy.

Maybe it was his sarcasm, or just the silly English boy in general- but I felt drawn to him.

When Charles finally introduced us, I felt like my life was complete, this boy knew I existed. For me that was more than enough.

But like most, absence makes the heart grow fonder- seeing him once I needed him again. We always want more. And I wanted him, I just couldn’t have him- he kept himself reserved and off limits.

It was only when I asked Charles why Lando always keeps me at arms length he finally told me about the little “threat” he gave to each driver. Seriously- the threat he gave wouldn’t even scare a fly.

Well long story short we got into a huge screaming match, and it ended with a simple.

“Keep away from them drivers Y/N- otherwise don’t speak to me ever again.”

And this time he meant it, unfortunately for him- I wasn’t running from Lando, I found myself always running at him. And I was going to get what I want…

—

Lando seemed nervous when we moved away from the crowds, indoors away from cameras, people- the world.

I took a seat watching him, he was on edge, before sitting down next to me. As always keeping distance. That annoyed me, and I found myself biting the bullet.

“Do you not like me?” Confusion was written on his face. “What?”

“I said do you not like me.” Shaking his head he shuffled the smallest bit closer. “Of course I like you! What made you think I didn’t?”

“Whenever I’m around you keep me 3feet away always. You reject every advance I make on you… it kind of all steers towards you not liking me…”

“I’ve got to keep away. Not that I want to.”

“Because of what Charles said?”

“Yeah…”

Studying his face, he looked conflicted. Like he was weighing his options out.

“I’m a grown woman Lan. I know what I’m doing.” His ears pricked at the sound of his nickname falling off my lips.

“He doesn’t get to tell me who I can and can’t like.” I felt myself getting more annoyed by the second, “I mean his not even your relative and his telling you what to do.” Standing back up in my frustrated manner. Lando copying my actions leaning against a nearby counter.

By god he looked good, he was just leaning there arms and legs crossed watching me- like I was some crazy woman. Crazy for him that’s for sure.

“He can’t stop me from having feelings- I want to feel something to you know.” Jabbing my palm against my own heart I stopped infront of him.

“Don’t you?” We switched places, myself now leant against the counter Lando now pacing the room. Brushing past each other, the electricity tingling through our finger tips as they just slightly touched.

“I just can’t go there with you…” a sigh left his lips, turning towards me. “His a friend… and friends don’t do that to each other.” I understood what he meant- I mean this is my brother, I get it. But I still wanted more.

“You’d do anything for your friends?” Nodding his head in response, I then straightened my back. “Am I your friend Lando?”

Once again he nodded his head, very slightly like he was scared of what’s coming. I was scared of what’s coming-

“Then kiss me.”

“What?!” His eyes widened as he took a step closer.

“Kiss me.” If I breathed any heavier our chest would touch his that close.

“Are you crazy?”

“About you? Yes.” If he wasn’t so close I would have missed the little smirk on his face.

“Y/N we can’t…”

“We can.”

Now whispering to each other, we wasn’t turning back, he had me trapped between the counter and himself, his arms were either side of my waist holding onto the edge of the counter behind me. “You said you’d do anything for your friends right?”

Our eyes were both dancing over one another- challenging the other to break first. “Just one kiss and I’ll let you go.”

“It won’t just be one kiss with us- we both know that-”

“One kiss and I promise to let you go.”

“One kiss?” Nodding my head a little in response. “One promise.”

Gulping he finally moved in- the kiss was heated right from the start. We both poured the pent up feelings for one another into that one kiss. It was a kiss to say, I like you but I got to let you go.

My hands found his cheeks, holding onto him like he was fragile glass, and his hands made their way off the counter gripping my hips tight before pulling me closer against his chest.

“Y/N?” The sound of Charles scared us both- Lando jumped back staring at me- our chest heaving, our hearts reaching out to each other. “Yeah?” Shouting back, my eyes trained on Lando.

“People are asking where you are.” The door rattled slightly- it was only then I realised Lando had thought ahead. Locking it behind him when he entered.

Lando’s hand reached out, touching my jaw, thumb grazing over my bottom lip. “I’ll be out soon- I felt a bit ill.” Gulping once again my body was on fire. “Want me to send Lorenzo down with some medicine?”

I don’t know what this boy is doing to me- but dancing his fingers down the side of my neck and collarbone while I’m trying to speak felt suffocating.

“No!” Snapping my head to the door. “I’ll be fine- just give me a few minutes.”

“Okay- just let us know if you need anything.” Waiting a few seconds I turned looking back at Lando.

“Okay that-” before I could finish my sentence his lips were back on mine pushing me back against the counter more demanding.

“I promised one.” Mumbling between kisses my hands found themselves snaking around his neck.

Pulling away he looked down at me, “I didn’t.” both catching our breaths. “Putain-” (fuck)

“Not here.” A cheeky smirk fell onto his face, his hands brushing up and down my sides. My fingers were tousling with his hair- both silent just relishing each other.“Meet me after the Dutch GP.” Whatever he said I agreed to- if he wanted me to stand on my head and put on trousers- yes. Always yes.

“Nobody can know about this-”

“What happened to Miss.Independent? Nobody rules her-”

“Charles swore to never speak to me again...” Chewing at my bottom lip I now felt guilty for what I had done. Stepping away from me like I burned him it was as quick as flicking on a switch- the mood changed, he scratched the back of his head. “Fuck…” and just like that I watched him start building them walls again- the walls that kept us separated for so long.

“This wasn’t a good idea…” mumbling he wiped his hands down his face before turning away from me.

“Now it’s not a good idea?” Furrowing my eyebrows at him I felt slightly hurt. “But it was a good idea when you pushed me against the counter for a second kiss-”

“Hey- you asked for the first”

“Because I thought we both wanted that-”

Moving back round to face me he shook his head. “Well I thought you wanted the second kiss-”

“I want all of your kisses.”

“You promised one-”

“And you broke that promise with the second.” He wasn’t winning this argument with me… “So why can’t there be a third, or a fourth?”

“I can’t do that to Charles, Y/N”

“I have more to lose than you do- his my brother. And I was willing to risk it…” boom right there he stabbed my heart.

The no response was more killing than having one. “I see…” nodding my head at him I straightened my back, “maybe I read the signs wrong- you don’t have someone pinned against a counter and telling them to meet you again if you didn’t want it to go further right…” shaking my head in disbelief I fixed my dress and hair before heading towards the door. “see you around I guess...”

My hand was opening the door slightly and I smiled to myself more in shock at his response. “I really hope not.”

—

Lando’s POV

I didn’t want to let her go truthfully… but I had to- no I didn’t care what them boys thought. They could hate my guts for liking their sister, I really did not care- it was more how they would treat her.

Charles was stubborn like most, and he would stick to his word of cutting her out his life all for me- and that alone makes me feel ill the thought of her willing to take such a risk for what could quite well not even work out…

So I had to let her go… and if she didn’t remind me of what she had to lose I may have grabbed her hand, took her in my arms and promised to keep us a forbidden secret- if the risk wasn’t so high for her. Just if.

What’s more worse- I tasted her lips twice and needed her more. More than before, now I needed to know what gets her whispering my nickname like she did moments prior- what gets her writhing, what makes her tick- I ached for it.

Maybe my words pushing her out the door was a mistake… and just maybe I could keep the promise of our secret…

I can’t… it’s just not fair on her-

“Lando?” My head snapped to the door, standing in the doorway was Arthur.

“You okay?” With a signature smile soon plastered on my face, I brushed past him hand clasping his shoulder.

“Never better leclerc.”

Yeah I really couldn’t do it to her.

—

1 week and 4 days had passed since we kissed, every single day I questioned wether what I did was right-

It was right. Don’t question yourself Lando.

It was finally time for the Dutch GP, you would think I’d be focused on the race, and whats ahead. But all I thought about was what I said to Y/N.

“Meet me after the Dutch GP”

And now I just wonder if I didn’t push her away- would she have met me? Something inside me said hell yeah she would have.

I can only wonder what would have happened between us…

Sighing I rubbed the sides of my temple- hoping to erase the thought of her from my mind.

Was she here today? Did she stay home? I mean she left the boat as soon as we parted, saying she still felt unwell. The look she gave me was sickening itself.

Lando fucking focus man.

—

Y/N POV

Did I want to be here? Yeah sure for my brothers. Did I want to see Lando? My heart said yes, my mind said no.

Standing at the back of Charles garage, fiddling with the Ferrari cap in my hand- sure I was nervous, if I bumped into Lando what would I say? Or would I run again?

"Hé, tu veux venir faire un tour dans les stands?" (Hey- wanna come for a walk down the pits?) Charles came into my view, and woke me from my daydreaming.

“bien sûr-” (Sure-) with a half hearted smile, I fell into step next to him.

“tu n'as pas l'air content...” (you don’t seem happy)

Glancing to Charles at my side I looked back ahead of me. “Qu'est-ce qui te fait dire ça?” (What makes you say that?)

“parce que je sais que tu ne le fais pas.” (Because I know you’re not.) Sighing I pulled the Ferrari cap onto my head. “je me demande juste quand ce sera mon tour” (Just wondering when it’ll be my turn)

“à ton tour pour quoi?” (Your turn for what?)

“à mon tour d'être aimé.” (My turn to be loved)

Charles stopped abruptly, myself copying him. “tu es aimé!” (You are loved!)

Tutting I shook my head at him. “par qui?” (By who?)

“Me, Maman, lorenzo, Arthur?” (Mum)

Smiling at him I leaned forward nudging his shoulder with my own.

“je sais que-” (I know that) we started walking again, soon finding ourselves outside a bright orange garage. “I want that toe curling kind of love-” sneaking a quick glance into the garage I see him there- headphones on looking at the screens ahead of him, notepad in hand and a pen pointing at the screens.

“ne me rend pas malade!” (Don’t make me be sick!) Charles gagged in a teasing way, causing me to genuinely smile over at him. “So annoying!” Shoving his head away gently, I turned back around walking with him back to the Ferrari garage. Both shoving and tripping each other on the way. “I’ll get you back Charlie. Just wait.” Declaring infront of the garage- our normal prank wars were just re-starting.

—

The day was nothing out of the ordinary, free practice being the normal, cars going round and round, pit stop practicing, cars in and out of pits. Yep all the normal.

I was tired, and couldn’t wait to get back to my hotel room- shower and sleep, just watching the cars circle round makes you exhausted- no idea how the drivers feel.

And it’s even luckier the hotel is very close by, mine and the boys rooms however. Weren’t.

Charles was at the end of the hall, turn left and then the third door on your right. Arthur was up another floor, and Lorenzo was back at home.

I gave both the boys quick kisses on the cheek before picking my night bag up and making my way to my room, fiddling with the card “key” in my hand. Turning it over itself repeatedly.

“Oh- hi…” kill me right now.

Looking up, a small smile on my face. “Hey- you okay?” It was passing conversation between me and Lando- or so I thought.

“Good as I can be.” Nodding my head in recognition to his response, I pushed my key against the scanner for the door to unlock. Only for it to flash red at me.

“How have you been?” Lando was a few feet behind me, watching as I nervously spammed the scanner. “Oh- Living the dream.” Cussing under my breath I slammed the card against the scanner, shoving the door with my arm. Yet it still blinked red.

Then I smelt his cologne- smelling even stronger now, his arm reached around from behind me- my body tensed up as I waited to see what stunt he was pulling.

Pressing his card against the scanner, it flashed green- with the same hand he pressed it against the door shoving it open a little. “Wrong door-”

I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole. “Merde…” (shit…)

Looking up at the door number, I looked over my shoulder- past Lando and at the door behind him. Shit indeed.

With an embarrassed smile, I moved around him scanning my card and opening the door. “I guess we are neighbours.”

“Seems that way.”

“You look good-”

Closing my eyes I took a moment before re opening them turning to face him.

“Goodnight Lando.” And with that I shut the door on him- he shut me out when I felt probably my most vulnerable- not everyday I tell a guy to kiss me.

Now it was my turn to shut him out- I can get over this silly crush if I just keep shutting him out.

That was more exhausting than the practice session.

—

Qualifying was something- not too great for Charles and Carlos, max on pole like always- and surprisingly Lando also. Not that I was really paying much attention of course- and not that I felt myself smiling slightly when I heard it across the tv.

Which soon faltered when I was watching myself on the screen, a camera directly on me.

“Y/N Leclerc is here in attendance today, although it’s not been a great day for both brothers- she still got a smile on her face!” Rolling my eyes at the camera my smile becoming wide again. I quickly turned away, occupying myself with anything- clearly getting camera shy.

Little did they know, a certain qualifier got me smiling like a goof. But they really didn’t need to know that.

Charles entered the garage, annoyed to say the least. And I stayed clear of him, only speaking to let him know I’m heading back early- seeing as he wanted the garage to stay back and discuss what’s wrong with the car.

When I got back to the hotel, I rushed to my room hoping to avoid a certain guy. Which I was successful at doing.

I showered in peace, got into some pyjamas and settled into bed. The aches in my body easing up each passing minute- I finally felt relaxed.

Until a knock at my door. With a loud groan, I rolled out of bed pulling the door open. “Charles, je viens littéralement d'envoyer un message-“ (Charles I literally just messaged-) pausing I looked up at the curly haired boy. “You’re not Charles.”

“Definitely not. I was wondering if he was with you?” Leaning against the door frame, he looked down at me, and I wasn’t stupid I see his eyes roaming up and down my body.

“No, I left him at the track.” Nodding his head at me he then straightened up. “I guess I’ll catch him later…”

“I guess so.” Slowly I started closing the door and he got the hint, moving back and turning to his own.

“Oh Lan-” quickly he spun his head looking at me over his shoulder. “Congratulations with your qualifying results…” if I wasn’t watching him so hard, I wouldn’t missed his cheeks turning a little red, and the dimple showing when the smile crept onto his face. We both then shut our doors at the same time, the conversation ending on a sweet note…

This crush wasn’t going away any time soon.

—

“Y/N!” Wincing I looked up at a very angry Charles stomping towards me.

“Merde-” (shit-) Stifling a laugh, I slid off the pit wall, ready to make my escape.

“MES CHEVEUX SONT ROUGES!” (I HAVE RED HAIR!)

Scrunching my nose up at him, I glanced at his hair. “I forgot I done that…” stepping away from him, looking behind me every so often making sure to avoid bumping into people.

“C'EST ROUGE!!” (IT’S RED!!)

Tugging at his own hair he crouched down to the floor, “ça à l'air bon...” (It looks good…)

“Nice hair leclerc.” Please not now-

“this your doing?” Looking up at Lando I nodded slightly. “You are brilliant.”

“Don’t!” Glaring at him from the floor was our red head Charles. “I’m not doing anything-” hands up in surrender Lando furrowed his brows. And while they tussle, I made my exit. Back to the comfort of the Ferrari garage.

Ready for the race… I’d say the red maybe good luck!

…but I definitely spoke too soon, and Charles made a rule we don’t discuss what happened today. So just like yesterday I ran back to my hotel room hiding away from the world. The world being Charles, Arthur and Lando.

After getting out the shower I dried off, pulling my underwear on. I started my skin prep and dried my hair off a little with the towel.

There it was, the rattle of my door. Grabbing the robe off the hook, I secured it around my waist. “I swear, if this is Charles I will throttle him.” Grumbling to myself I swung the door open ready to beat the crap out of Charles.

“Charles isn’t here.” Shutting the door on Lando’s face I turned to walk away, before the door knocked again.

With a loud huff I turned pulling it open again. “I just said-”

“Shut up.” Pushing me back into my room, his hands on either of my cheeks, like he was cradling my face. Kissing me with a hunger I didn’t know.

The door slammed shut from Lando kicking it, making me jump slightly, giving me the chance to pull away from him.

“What just happened-” sitting down on the bed behind me- not trusting in my legs to keep me up.

“I couldn’t do it.” Taking a seat in front of me on the mini sofa, he tugged at his own hair. “Can’t do what?”

“Stay away from you. I tried and I can’t.” Looking up at me, we both watched each other. “But you said-”

“I know what I said…”

It fell silent once again, tightening my robe and sitting up straighter, I cleared my throat. “Then what do you want?”

“You.”

“What about my brothers?” Raising my eyebrows at him, I only took notice of how close he got. “Nah, I don’t want them.” Rolling my eyes at him, my back slowly lowering against the bed. “You’re crazy.”

“About you.” Brushing my damp hair back he was now hovering above me. “That’s my line.” Why I was whispering I don’t know- but I was now letting the heart decide, and it decided that all is forgiven and I wanted him.

“Do you remember mine?” His brow quirked.

“Meet me after the Dutch GP?”

Humming he leaned down pressing a delicate kiss to my revealed collarbone.

“I’m glad you did.”

“You’re in my room.” Biting down on my bottom lip, I tugged at his hair gently.

“Let’s make it our room- at least for tonight.”

“Lando-” closing my eyes I fought with my heart- my hands pressed against his shoulders pushing him back slightly.

“I’m sorry-” mumbling he looked down at the minimal space between our bodies. “Don’t apologise for this-”

His hand slid under the robe, grazing up my thigh delicately, eyes trained on me watching how I reacted. “Im not apologising for this.”

My body ached for him, his touch driving me insane. Rolling my hips slightly trying to push myself more against him- if that was even possible. Smiling at my reaction, he licked his bottom lip trying to contain his smile. “I’m sorry for how I treated you.”

“Not to sound too desperate- but can we talk about that- after you really appreciate me.” Quirking a brow at him- my sudden boldness being brought out by lust.

“With pleasure-” gripping onto my waist, he lifted me moving me up the bed resting more into the pillows. “Literally.”

“Please stop with the corniness.”

“I’ll try-” both laughing a little, we fell into each other, delicate kisses, and whispered sweet nothings.

—

When all was said and ‘done’- we laid in silence, the room lit from the bright moon. My head was against Lando’s shoulder, his arm tracing up and down my side.

We was both watching our hands, fingers dancing with one another’s. The silence in the room was comforting oddly enough. And when my hand finally grew tired, it fell against his chest, my head turning, hiding away into his neck.

“That was- amazing.” Sighing he picked my hand up placing a soft kiss against my palm, before turning on his side making us both face each other.

“You’re amazing.” Laughing a little I reached my hand further up brushing his hair back. I was studying his face, how even in this light you can see his flushed face and feel his somewhat damp skin.

“You’re so pretty.” Mumbling lowly, I didn’t realise the words slipped my mouth until I see the smile creep up on his face.

His arms wrapped around my body securely, a kiss pressed against my forehead. “Goodnight.” Smiling up at him I closed my eyes “goodnight lan.”

Laying there eyes closed, I listened to his heartbeat counting the beats like sleep.

“I think I love you…” sighing once again he squeezed me tight press in two more kissed to my forehead.

My heart was pounding my body was so warm- I can’t believe he just said that- is it weird I understand what he means.

Our little secret Norris- I’m needing more.

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