#every time i think about the ending i cry

[pierregazly]

i've got you ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x best friend!reader

warnings: angsty, arthur leclerc is the villain, oscar is in love w/ the reader but wont ever admit it, no hea [963 words]

request: 💗 can i request oscar with prompt 6? please and thank you!! 😽[6. "I've got you."]

A violent sob ripped itself from your body, your hand clutching the phone in front of you, the incriminating photo in plain view as you tried to process what was so prevalent on the screen.

It had been so obvious that things were falling apart in your relationship, they had been for months. Date nights were cancelled, anniversaries forgotten, but you never thought he would lower himself to this. Never thought you’d be getting that ‘I think this is your boyfriend?’ text. 

But here you were, trying to contain the feelings flowing through you, the anger, the sadness, the heartbreak.

He had told you it was a small trip with his brothers, it was offseason for everyone, the only time they really had to relax. The lie was staring right at you, Arthur’s hands gripping the ass of an unnamed brunette, his lips connected with hers. There was no denying that it was him, the video that followed showing the two of them pulling away from each other, an intoxicated smirk on the lips of your long-term boyfriend.

You didn’t know how to react. Didn’t know if it was worth sending the proof to him, whether you should call him and ask him outright or act like it was all fake. The emotions were running through you so aggressively, you hadn’t even had the chance to properly think through everything.

How could he do this? Why did he think this was okay? How can he tell you he loves you, and then do this? Were you not good enough for him?

The variety of thoughts continued to cipher through your mind. Your body was begging your brain to stop, begging it to give you a moment to get a grip on reality, begging it to allow you a moment to think clearly.

You barely heard the repetitive knock on the door, the noises mixing in with the unrelenting thumping noises clouding your ears.

Oscar had a key to the apartment, always had. He always claimed it was a ‘safety measure’ and he needed to have one in case anything happened, or in case he ever had to get you into your apartment after a night out.

Most of the time it was used because you weren’t answering a message quick enough, and he wanted to spend time with you. 

He had been messaging you since this morning, offering to bring you pastries from your favourite bakery, asking if you wanted to get lunch, had asked more than once if everything was alright. It wasn’t until he saw the pictures, his brain taking a moment to catch up with his eyes when he realized why you weren’t answering him.

You had been friends for years, longer than any of your other friendships, had known him almost double the amount of time you knew Arthur. He had tried more than once to explain how disastrous dating the Monegasque could end up, but his attempts were futile. You were too stubborn to listen to him, too enamoured to believe that Arthur could be anything except lovely.

There was barely a thought in his mind before he was making his way to your apartment, aggressively knocking on the door; practically begging to be let in. He knew you were in there, could hear the soft sounds of you crying through the door, his heart breaking with every vicious sob he heard through the wood.

It didn’t take him long to find his key, pushing open the door with a bated breath, unsure as to the scene he was about to walk into.

You didn’t even acknowledge his presence, your body having begun the process of curling in on itself, trying to savour any sense of peace it could gather. Oscar felt his stomach drop when he finally made eye contact with you, the puffiness of them so obvious, the tears still clouding your vision.

“Oh, love. C’mere, I’ve got you.”

A small whimper left your lips as he sat down on the couch next to you, gently tugging your body into his. Your hand clutched onto his shirt, the tears still falling from your eyes instantly soaking the material when you pressed your head to his shoulder. 

“Why’d he do this to me, Osc? Was I not good enough for him? What did I do to deserve this?”

Every other word punctuated with a cry or a sniffle prompted a small grimace onto his features. The pit in his stomach grew worse and worse with every word that fell from your mouth, his own heart breaking again as he tried to console you.

“You’re more than good enough for him, I’ve been saying for years you’re too good for him. You didn’t deserve this, at all. He’s a piece of shit,” he said.

His hands continued to rub up and down your exposed arms, your tears subsiding as you melted into his comfort. The grogginess was still prevalent in your head, your eyes puffy, your brain still trying to get a grasp of what was going on; but all you could focus on was the calluses on Oscar’s fingers catching on your skin, the heave of his chest as he cuddled you closer.

He was always the first person there for you, even without having to pick up the phone and ask him to be. For him, you always came first, above racing, above his friends; he would drop everything he was doing and run to you if you asked. He would never admit that, though, ever.

“I wish it was you all those years ago, Osc. You would’ve never done this to me,” you said.

Oscar felt his own heart splitting in two. You were right, he wished it was him all those years ago, too. 

i did NOT know where to go with this one!!!! so angsty and sadness it is!!!!! sorry!!!!

[ceesimz]

My Soul, It Did Decide!

Part 2 of this!

Here it is, as promised. I thought it was too long but I couldn't decide what to take out, so have it all. It was supposed to be done and out for Friday but when the Northern Lights come knocking you gotta go find them😅 Enjoy! Title of P1 is from my favourite Little Simz song 'Angel', this one from 'Worth It.' by Raye!

Adjusting to life with a child was as daunting as expected; having a whole human being depend on you was quite possibly the most terrifying thing in the world. Yet, when wide brown eyes stared up at you in the dead of the night and ten little fingers gripped just one of yours, it felt like you were made for it.

Newborns were possibly the laziest species of all, and you loved it. The first few weeks of her life, all Anaís did was eat, sleep, eat, and sleep some more. That left plenty of time for you to marvel at every little thing about her; the few wisps of dark brown hair she had, her perfect button nose, her tiny feet that were ever-moving, and her hands with the most adorable nails you'd ever seen, if that was possible. Not to mention the smell of her, which you thought was a myth, how women were obsessed with the smell of their baby, but you weren't embarrassed to admit it was entirely true. Alexia loved to tease you about it, but when one time in the middle of the night you'd caught her doing the exact same thing as you, she reluctantly gave in and joined you in your opinion.

The beauty of parenthood unfolds in countless ways, and the wonder of seeing the world anew through your child's eyes is unparalleled. You'd come to learn that even the simplest things made to be the most incredible memories. But the thing that got you the most though, was not only the prospect of all the memories your family were going to make, but what life Anaís might live.

Would she follow in Alexia's footsteps and become a football legend? Would she follow your path instead, a more educated and business led one? Would she become a doctor and save hundreds of lives, would she become the first astronaut to land on Mars, or would she spend her life living at home with you and Alexia? You didn't care what she would grow to be, your first rule of parenting was to never hold expectations against them beyond the normal ones of being kind and whatnot. The pride you felt towards her at such a young age was so extreme and overwhelming, you couldn't begin to process what it would be like when she came into her own as a person. Truly, there was no greater joy than being a parent, that much was true, and you hadn't even experienced any of the larger milestones yet.

There were moments over your life, before Anaís, where you worried about how much you'd be able to handle a child. Sometimes you wondered if you even wanted kids, but the thought of not having Anaís in your world now was... god, you couldn't even imagine it.

Even when she was screaming at the top of her lungs, refusing to sleep.

"Anaís, mi chiqui, por favor. Go to sleep." You begged, slowly stepping around the room whilst rocking a crying Anaís in your arms.

You'd tried it all by now, and nothing was working. Diaper change, feeding her, soothing her, cuddling her, everything you could think of. But nothing was good enough. There were tears brimming in your own eyes, thoroughly exhausted due to the restless night Anaís had had so far, and it seemed the end wasn't in sight yet.

"Please, please, little one." You sniffled, your emotions finally consuming you as one of your tears fell to merge with Anaís' own on her cheeks. "I don't get what's wrong!"

For all you knew, Alexia was in the bedroom a few feet down the hallway, soundly asleep. Blissfully unaware of the difficulties you faced in the next room over. Selfishly, the thought only made matters worse. A strangled shout escaped you before you could stop it, stressing both yourself and Anaís out inexplicably more.

By the grace of something your shattered mind couldn't name, that last call out from you had awoken the Spaniard, and she soon came stumbling into the nursery, instantly sobered from her sleep upon the sight she walked into.

Your face was red from stress and sobs, Anaís' tiny little cheeks matching yours as her face scrunched uncomfortably with each scrike she let out, and you only cried more at the sight of Alexia.

"Mi amor, what's happening?" Alexia rushes over to you, cautiously taking Anaís from your arms as her eyes flick worryingly between you both.

"She won't stop crying!" You sob, hiding your face into her neck. "I've d-done every- everything, she just won't stop."

"Okay, okay. Hey, what time is it, amor? Can you check for me please? Just that one thing, my love, that's all." Alexia asks, hoping there was a remaining part of your overwhelmed mind that was still lucid.

"Um, it's- it's almost four, I think." You choke out, slumping into the rocking chair and crying into your hands.

"Thank you, amor, that's all I needed. Stay right here, can you hold our mija for just a minute whilst I get something? I will be right back, I will be really quick."

You nod, and Alexia presses a firm kiss to your forehead before placing Anaís back in your arms. The 8-week-old had almost fully exerted herself now, no more loud cries coming from her, only a few upset whines that broke your heart nonetheless. Wiping your face on the shoulder of your shirt, you cradle Anaís closely and rest your forehead against hers gently.

"I'm sorry I can't figure it out. I'm so sorry." You mutter exasperatedly, a few tears falling onto the baby's head.

Thankfully, Alexia races back into the room, holding something that would hopefully be the solution to Anaís' problem. The realisation of what was most likely wrong with her struck your heart.

"She is probably feeling unwell from her injections, amor. Let's give her some of this, it should make her feel better."

In her hand was a bottle of medicine for young infants, made for specific times like this. The previous day, Anaís had had her 8 week jabs and the doctor had suggested that she may feel a little under the weather afterwards, something that was completely normal, and the medicine Alexia held more often than not worked in the same way paracetamol did for people with cold symptoms. Anaís didn't seem to be running a fever, much to your relief, but she was obviously in some discomfort and it killed you that you hadn't thought of it.

"Yes, yes, give it her." You respond shakily, standing up as Alexia measures the right amount into the small syringe.

It takes a little while to give Anaís the small dose of medicine, having to give tiny amounts in quick intervals since she was so young, but a few minutes later she'd had it all with little fight. She's still very unsettled, but her tears have fully stopped now, instead letting out a few grunts as she wriggles restlessly.

"Hopefully she will feel better in a few minutes. Do you need anything, amor? Anything at all?" Alexia offers quietly, her hands coming up to rest on your cheeks as she wipes your tears away so delicately.

"No, I'm okay. You can go back to sleep now if you want." You tell her, not meeting her eyes.

"Hey, I'm staying with you and chiqui. Let me know how you are, sí?" Her eyebrows furrowed anxiously as her eyes assessed your face.

"I'm fine." You sniffle, but she instantly shakes her head.

"Mi amor, you seem so tired and stressed. Let's get back to bed and relax. I can text our friends that we won't make it to lunch later too?"

"No, we can still go. It'll be fine." You give her a tight-lipped smile, hoping it'll convince her, but your eyes are bloodshot and weighed down by some dark bags, and she sees straight through you.

"They know that parenting is never perfect or straight-forward, amor, we can just reschedule. You need the rest and so does Anaís, okay? I will text them. Come on, back to bed." She wraps an arm around your shoulders and guides you out of Anaís' room.

Once you're back in your shared bedroom, you sit back against the headboard and Alexia sits on the edge of the bed next to your legs. One of her hands rests on your bare knee as you wore a t-shirt and shorts in the hot summer weather, and she gazed at you with no love lost.

"She's tired herself out I think. With all the crying." You stated, unsure what to say when she's looking at you like she was. Alexia simply smiled and nodded, watching as Anaís' eyes finally fluttered shut.

"Look. She's okay now. We're all okay." She says, shifting a little closer and pressing a kiss to you cheek. "I love you. You are the best Mama that Anaís could have."

You don't reply, overridden by worries and doubts and tiredness to even consider the statement she'd made, so you just shrug and feel Anaís properly settle down, now asleep.

"Could you put her in her cot, please?"

Alexia nods immediately and stands before picking up Anaís, careful not to wake her, and murmurs a few words in Spanish to her followed by a feather-light kiss to her cheek, then she places her in the cot beside the bed. You watched the scene in front of you, it never failing to put a smile on your face even in the worse moments of parenting.

As Alexia makes her way back into bed, you shift to lay on your side facing Anaís, a position you lay in almost every night as it's reasurring to be able to see her so close to you whilst she sleeps due to the netting on the side of the crib. Alexia shifts up behind you and leans up on one elbow to press a kiss to your cheek, before hugging you tightly back into her.

"I'm proud of you. I love watching you being a Mami. It's my favourite thing ever." Alexia whispers, her thumb stroking over the soft skin of your hip under your shirt.

"Really?" You laugh humorlessly. "Even when I'm screaming and shouting and crying because I'm so fucking stressed? Because I can't help my own baby?"

Alexia frowns and rests up on one elbow again, using her other hand to press you onto your back so she can get a look at your face.

"Why would you say that?" Alexia asks in a voice that came across more stern than she wanted it.

"You saw the state of me when you walked in. It was such an obvious solution, what she needed, and it did not cross my mind at all. She was feeling poorly and I didn't notice. I couldn't figure it out." Your ranting voice trailed off with the last two sentences, your worries all-consuming in the moment.

"Oh, mi chica." Alexia sighs, laying down and urging you to curl into her side with your face hidden in her chest. "Don't say things like that, it breaks my heart. I believe in you as a parent more than anyone in the world, there's no one I trust more with our chiqui than you, amor. It is your first time being a parent, I do not blame you for anything. Nothing at a-"

"So why are you so perfect then? It's your first time too, yet you handle everything so much better than me." You cut her off with an argument that sounds more accusing than it actually was. Thankfully Alexia knew you didn't mean it maliciously, the only nasty thing in this situation was the doubtful devil on your shoulder.

"I just try my best, as do you. I still overthink every little thing I do and I still worry all the time. It's been a long and emotional day turned night and you're exhausted, it's fine that you didn't think of her feeling poorly because the doctors said it's a fifty-fifty chance she'd even fall ill. This is why we co-parent, because when one needs the other, we're always there. And when we need to rely on each other, that's absolutely fine. When we need help, that's fine too. I'm not perfect, neither of us will ever be the perfect parent, but to me you are perfect. I promise there is no one else I'd rather raise children with. Anaís loves you so much, and I love you so much."

She rambles on, words of devotion and appreciation seemingly spilling from her like it's second nature. At some point during her impromptu speech, her free hand had travelled up to your head as she lightly stroked through your hair.

"Do you hear me, amor?"

With a shy nod, you bury your face in her chest and sigh shakily.

"I love you." You mumble, your hand that rested on her waist squeezing gratefully.

"I love you too. Put that irrational voice in your head to the side and let's sleep as long as possible before she wakes up again. Then, we can relax all day. Even if that means staying in bed the whole time, and you know I never let that happen." Alexia jokes, relieved to hear the short, quiet giggle you let out. "I will always be proud of you. Comprendo? Always."

"Sí, Ale. Thank you." You murmur, taking one last glance at Anaís who is still sleeping soundly now that she's feeling better. Then you lay back down against Alexia's chest, loving nothing more than falling asleep cuddled up to her. "Is it okay for me to sleep like this?"

"More than okay, amor. Rest well."

Despite it not being the comfiest position for her, Alexia happily lays there and holds you until you fall asleep, which happens fairly quick. With a little readjustment and a disgruntled noise coming from you, she shifts to a better position before falling into a slumber soon after.

All the lows of parenting were miniscule in comparison to the highs, because when Anaís smiles so brightly for the first time in her life the next day, the events of the previous night were almost entirely forgotten. It happened whilst Alexia was downstairs making breakfast, you'd just dressed Anaís in her nursery and as you were smiling down at her, albeit tired and slightly delirious, she just returned the smile like it was something she'd been doing all her (short) life.

When Alexia made her way back upstairs, a filled breakfast tray in her arms, her heart dropped when she walked past the ajar door to Anaís' room to hear you sniffling once more. She thought it was something to do with the previous night, so she quickly set the food down in your room before racing back.

"What's wrong?" She asks tenderly, gently placing her hands on your shoulders as to not scare you.

"She, she smiled at me." You stammer, overjoyed at such a beautiful milestone.

"She what?" Alexia lightly moved you over so that she could stand beside you at the changing table, looking down at your daughter where she wiggled happily.

"She smiled at me! A big, gummy smile!" You repeated, Alexia laughing giddily.

"Really?!" She cried out. "How?"

"What do you mean, how?" You giggled, to which she lightly nudged your side and rolled her eyes.

"How did it happen?"

"I don't know, I was just looking at her and smiling at her little outfit and she smiled back." You recounted, a few sly tears leaking from the corners of your eyes.

"Mm, who wouldn't smile at a face like yours, amor?" It was your turn to roll your eyes, this time at her charm. "Let me see if I can make her smile."

You watch on as Alexia delicately takes hold of Anaís feet with one hand as the other comes up to dance her fingers up and down the bottom of her feet. The reaction is almost immediate.

"Oh my god, she did it again!"

You giggle at the grin offered up by the little girl in front of you, your cheeks aching as the happiness of the moment is worth everything that you'd gone through and more. And the look on Alexia's face too? It's priceless.

All in all though, one of Alexia's biggest loves was of course football, which meant there was only so long she could go without playing. However, she also couldn't bare the thought of leaving your side for too long now that Anaís was in her life, so she opted out of the international pre-season camp that the team had organised and instead chose to stay back at home to do her own specialised camp at the Barcelona training facilities. Training days were longer compared to the little and often gym days she'd had over the last few months, but for her there was absolutely nothing better than knowing that you and Anaís were waiting for her with open arms, no matter how her day had gone.

Her new way of life gave her a completely different perspective for her career, and it felt like her motivation for, not only football, but her life in general had been completely redefined. She had a tiny human being to care for now, and everytime she kicked the ball, everytime she stepped on the pitch, every pass she completed, everything she did was done so with an urgency to be as perfect as possible. And no, that wasn't a toxic mindset, because as the past couple weeks had shown her, there was hardly such a thing called perfection. Undoubtedly she was annoyed at herself whenever she made a mistake, that would never change, but as long as Anaís still greeted her with that infamous gummy smile of hers everytime she saw Alexia, it was hard to be so negative when the meaning of her life gazed up at her like Anaís did.

However, the prize that was her career came at the expense of sometimes missing out on moments that tore her heart in two.

Ever since Anaís had first smiled, Alexia had been on a mission to achieve the next milestone: hearing her giggle for the first time. The happiness of her little girl was addictive, and she was sure that when she heard her laugh for the first time, she'd want to hear it every second for the rest of her life.

Unfortunately, timings weren't on her side.

In her hotel room, hours away from her family, she checked her phone for the first time since she got back from her game that evening to see a video you had sent. And what she was met with was so beautiful, but so heartbreaking.

With your friend behind the camera, you were stood in front of the TV screen with Alexia's game playing, holding Anaís over your head and slowly lowering her down until you can blow raspberries on her tummy. Her reaction? Letting out the most adorable, high-pitched giggle. Otherwise known as the sound Alexia had been dying to hear. With that, she dropped her phone to the bed beside where she sat and covered her face in her hands.

Of course she was over the moon at such a milestone, but she found herself moved to tears at the fact she wasn't there to witness it for herself. The person she'd go to when she was down was obviously you, but when she checked the time on her watch, she saw that it was about this part of the evening that you started Anaís' nighttime routine to get her settled. It was a precarious process and the less distractions, the smoother it goes. So instead, she turned to the the other woman of reason in her life, her own Mami.

"Hi mija. How are you?" Eli answers within two rings, herself back at home in Barcelona too.

"Hola Mami, I'm okay. Did you see the game?" Not quite possessing the willpower to open up yet, she started up a light and easy conversation.

"Of course I did, it was very good. Was Keira okay after the game? She went off, right?"

"Ah, yes, she did. Just cramp, I think." Alexia murmurs, a frown on her face as she messes with the corner of the pillow and concentrates on not falling apart so quickly. But after all, it is her own Mother she's talking to.

"And how are you, really?" There it is. That's the phase that breaks anyone who's on the verge of tears.

"Um, overall I'm okay, but tonight... a bit... not okay." Her voice cracks as she speaks, her frown more prominent as a single tear sneaks out.

"Why's that, mija?" Alexia hesitates. "You can tell me anything Ale, you know that. No matter what it is."

"Well, it's not really a secret that I'm not a big fan of travelling for football. It's always been that way and you've known that." Eli hums in acknowledgement down the line. "But now, it's... so much harder. Leaving my family at home. Anaís, she changes everyday and I'm missing that."

"And you rang me because you're too afraid to ring home, aren't you?" As ever, Eli could read Alexia inexplicably well, even hundreds of miles apart.

"Yes. Because it's not their fault, it's nobody's fault. I know it is just life and it's my choice, nobody is forcing me to continue playing, but now I'm starting to wonder if it's all worth it when I'm missing out on something so incredible. Anaís laughed for the first time this evening, and I was hours away, in a different country, on a football pitch, doing what?" Alexia scoffs, bringing a hand to her forehead with a quiet groan.

"You were out on a football pitch doing your job, achieving your dream, earning to provide a great future for your family, Alexia. It's not all for nothing, it's for everything. It's for Anaís' future and how well she gets to live, that's a privilege. It's for your future child's life and how well they get to live too. This is your dream, your Papi's dream, this is everything you've worked for all your life. Your children will get to reap the benefits from it, and you'll get to watch them grow up and lead beautiful lives because of the opportunities you will provide for them." Eli reasurres her, and Alexia begins to feel better by the second.

"I know. I know. You're right, Mami. Always."

"Sí, siempre." Eli agrees with strong conviction, making Alexia laugh quietly. "Think of how many more laughs you will hear from Anaís, Ale. You have a lifetime of laughter with her. Her first laugh, it was caught on camera, I got sent the video too. So you didn't miss it, you can watch it all night long tonight. Don't get so clouded about this, I know you and how your mind works and when your nena is back in your arms tomorrow, all this will be forgotten. But if we need a longer conversation about it, you can speak to me whenever."

"You... you get me everytime, Mami." Alexia smiles, Eli laughing heartily. "Thank you. You are right. I will get over all of this. T'estimo, I will see you tomorrow?"

"Mhm, at dinner. Ring your corazón tonight, escuchame? Hablar con ella, she will want to know. Then get some rest, sí? Mi hija, jo també t'estimo. Bona nit."

"Bona nit, Mami."

Before she got herself settled for the night, she fired off a quick text to you that asked for you to ring her when you had a moment. She knew it could be five minutes or five hours until you rang her, and she would happily accept either.

Once she had done her own night routine, she gets into bed knowing she will probably not get a lot of sleep tonight, even if she's not got to get up for a unhappy baby. With that knowledge, she grabs her phone again and watches the video from earlier. Before, she'd only gotten to the part where Anaís had giggled for the first time. What she hadn't seen though was the next few seconds of it, where the match broadcast had shown a close-up of herself. Stood to the side of the screen, your friend zoomed in on Anaís' face who had recognised her Mami on the screen and let out another burst of giggles before hiding her face in your neck.

It warmed Alexia's heart to no end, and all her thoughts from earlier flew out the window at the footage she'd just seen. Whether it was physical or not, she had been there in the moment of Anaís' milestone, and she had been there in the mind of her daughter at such a time. In fact, she had also made her laugh in the moment, and that meant the world to her. She just needed to experience it in real time now.

A little later, when she was watching some junk on the hotel TV, her phone finally rang with an incoming call from you.

"Hola, amor. Thank you for ringing me." Alexia breathes out as she lays on her side in bed.

"Of course, Ale. I watched the game, it was a good result. How are you after it? Feeling alright?" You whisper, sat up against the headboard and watching Anaís as she sleeps soundly.

"Sí, todo bien. How are you? Did Anaís get to sleep okay?" Alexia's eyes shut as she asks, picturing her daughter laughing to her heart's content.

"We're all good here, she's snoozing away beside me. Bedtime went as smooth as possible." You smile and resist the urge to reach out to take Anaís' hand, not wanting to disrupt her sleep. "With a few giggles here and there."

"I saw the video. Qué niña tan increíble es, no?"

"Isn't she just?" You sigh contentedly. "Did you see the part where she giggled at you on the TV?"

"I did. I just wish I was actually there to see it." Alexia mumbles, and you can easily detect the sadness in her voice.

"I know. I... I was in half a mind whether to send the video to you or not. Because I knew it would probably upset you, that you weren't here for it. I know how much you wanted to see it."

"No, no, I'm so glad you did. Forget the football game, it made my night. I will get to see her tomorrow, it'll be fine."

A few things you'd learnt in your time with Alexia: one, she was great at shunning her feelings to the side if it made other's lives easier. Two, she would reach a point where that habit of hers would cause a meltdown. And three, you were her weak point, and she could never shy away from pouring her heart out for too long to you.

"I know you, Ale." You state softly. "I know you're more upset than you let on."

"Mm. I was but I rang my Mami and I feel better now."

"You promise?"

"I promise." Alexia smiles, because she knows that tomorrow she'll have her daughter and the love of her life back in her arms, and it'll all be okay.

"Okay. Let me know if you want to talk about it, anytime at all." Alexia hums in acknowledgement. "I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"Tomorrow, instead of getting the coach back from the airport, why don't Anaís and I pick you up?" You suggest, knowing exactly what she needs, which is to see her daughter.

"I would love that. That would be amazing." Alexia replies breathlessly a few moments later. "I would really love that."

"Then it's a plan, hm? We'll be there, waiting for you. Might even make a sign. 'Welcome home, Mami! '" You tease, grinning when Alexia chuckles shyly.

"I have been gone for a few days only. I'm not coming home from prison, amor."

"Hm, don't lie, I know you'd love it if I did do that though. I see right through you, Alexia."

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever." You hear her stifle a yawn, and though it's not late, playing 90+ minutes of football whilst caring for a young baby are two things that are already exhausting in itself.

"Get some peaceful sleep while you have the opportunity. I'm jealous." Alexia huffs.

"You know I don't sleep after a game. Even worse when you're not with me." She complains.

"Okay, then I'll stay on the phone whilst I have a bath and I'll wait until you fall asleep." You hear the smirk before she even replies.

"And how will I sleep if I know you're in the bath?"

"You would think that now you've got a child, you'd be somewhat more mature." You roll your eyes but there's a hint of a smile on your face. "I'm not going to video call you because I know for a fact you wouldn't sleep then. I'll just talk your ear off. You normally reach a point where you stop listening when I do that."

"Anaís does too. You talk her ear off a lot."

"It's good for her development! When she starts talking at eleven months instead of twelve, you'll be thanking me."

The pair of you continue to chat and joke for long into the night, you deciding to ditch your plans for a bath and Alexia more than happy to listen to you discuss whatever came to your mind. For the whole duration of the call, there's a soft smile on her face that doubles in size when she hears you gently shushing and soothing Anaís when she fussed a little in her sleep. It was safe to say she was more excited for her airport pickup the next day than she was for anything in her life.

Because the sight of her little girl in your arms the following afternoon was a thing she didn't know it was possible to miss so dearly over a short period of time. You didn't have a sign, but in one of Anaís' tiny fists was a small Barcelona flag that matched the jersey she wore too. As soon as Alexia caught sight of you both, she ditched the conversation she was in the middle of and broke off into a light jog towards you. Anaís was turned away from her at first, but when she got closer, you shifted the little girl in your arms and pointed towards her Mami running over.

And what did she do then? At the sight of Alexia, running with her luggage and her laptop in her arms with a shy grin on her face, Anaís giggled.

"Ay, dios mío. Mi chiqui." Her voice was quiet and shaky when she spoke, immediately placing her bag down and her laptop on it before reaching out for Anaís. "Hola, nena. Hi!"

You wrap an arm around her waist and rest your head on her shoulder, laughing when Anaís reaches a little hand out to grab at Alexia's nose. The rest of the team stay back and watch the moment, Mapi having filmed it all as she knew it'd be a memory Alexia would want to keep. They had never seen this side of Alexia, where her heart was merely a puddle on the floor due to the love she held for her daughter. Anaís didn't know it yet of course, but she had Alexia wrapped around her finger from the minute she was born, and that was never going to change.

"Oh, I have missed her so much." Alexia sighs, resting her forehead against Anaís' cheek and repeatedly pressing kisses to the soft skin there. Quickly, the baby's attention inevitably falls elsewhere - being in such a hectic public space like an airport was just so intriguing for her.

"She missed you too. Look at that smile! She's dribbling all over the place." You state, Alexia shrugging nonchalantly.

"I don't care. Anaís, oye, mírame." Alexia leans back and gently pokes her daughter's cheek to gain her attention back. However, the young girl was seemingly stuck in a giggly trance as Mapi creeps closer, pulling a different face with every step she takes. "Mapi! Basta, pendeja! You are distracting her!"

You laugh at Alexia's jealousy and Mapi's subsequent pout, quickly wiping away Anaís' drool with the bib she had on.

"Ay, Ale, don't swear in front of your child." Mapi tuts, a smug grin on her face as she lightly tickles under Anaís' chin and pulls yet another giggle from her. It's simply music to Alexia's ears.

"María, come on, leave them alone." Ingrid takes Mapi's hand and pulls her away but not without a grumble from her.

Finally, now that Mapi and her childish tendencies are gone, Anaís decides to turn her attention back to Alexia.

"There is my chiqui." Alexia bops her nose lightly, eliciting her new favourite sound from her. "Shall we go home?" Anaís grins, her little tongue poking out as she does so. "Mhm, home time! Venga, Mama, let's go so we can cuddle on the couch."

With another laugh, this time at Alexia's eagerness, you pick up her laptop as well as the Barça flag that had fallen from Anaís' hand at some point, and place them both in the backpack Alexia was wearing. With Alexia holding Anaís, you go to grab her suitcase but she gets there before you.

"I have it, mamacita." Alexia smirks as she says it, and you roll your eyes and start walking. "Hm, hola to you too. I missed you also, by the way."

"Come on, my favourite groveller. Let's get dribbles here back home, she needs a nap soon."

Before she knows it, Alexia is dead to the world asleep with her head on your lap as you comb through her hair delicately and Anaís sleeps on her chest. It was a sight you had missed more than you realised, and you of course had to pull your phone out and document it. For Alexia, there was truly nothing better than being at home.

In a baby's first year of life, first-times and milestones come thick and fast. Foremost is the first feed, the first diaper change, the first sleep. Changes in both their behaviour and their appearance happen so quick, it's hard to keep up. Those initial milestones may be seen as minor, if you look past the sentimentality to them, because when the 'proper' developments start happening, that's when it gets special but utterly hectic.

Three major things seem to happen at once for Anaís. Two of them are fine, amazing actually, as they're the first step of leaving infancy: sleeping in her own room and starting to be introduced to solid food. But it's the third one that catches Alexia completely off-guard, something that happens out of the blue, and it has the Spaniard panicking like nothing else.

One moment, she's changing Anaís' diaper, the next minute, her child has vanished.

You were elsewhere in the house, probably using the valuable alone time to be productive with house chores, so you were none the wiser. Alexia had turned away for hardly a second, but Anaís was long gone.

How, one may ask?

Well, the little girl just decided to up and crawl away on her own accord.

To be honest, she didn't get very far, and neither did Alexia's panic last too long because only a few seconds later did she hear the familiar grunts of her daughter and the quiet slaps of her hands against the wooden panels of the lounge floor.

So when Alexia got up and walked towards the sound, there Anaís was, casually crawling around like it was nothing.

"Dios mío, Anaís, you scared me!" Alexia sighs, relieved, as she picks her up and puts her on her hip. "Eres tan descarada, pequeña. Honestly."

Then Alexia turned, leaving the room and wandering upstairs to find you. Anaís' nursery was empty, nor were there any sounds of life coming from any of the other rooms, so she knocked lightly on your shared bedroom door before walking in. She let out a short burst of laughter when you scrambled up off the bed, slightly embarrassed at being caught laying unproductively in bed on your phone.

"What is it?" You blurted out, cheeks a little red.

"Amor, we have a problem." Alexia sighed dramatically, worrying you slightly.

"Okay, are you going to tell me, or..?" You asked, stepping closer and smiling at the dribbling baby in Alexia's arms. She greeted you with her now toothy grin, almost like she knew the chaos she was soon to cause.

"You will never guess what just happened." Alexia laughed, as did Anaís, consequently making you laugh too.

"Tell me then!"

"I was changing her, and I looked away for one second to bag up the dirty diaper, and she was gone. She crawled away, amor. So quick." Your jaw falls in shock, eyes flicking between Alexia's slightly fearful face and Anaís' blissfully unaware one.

"You're joking." Alexia shakes her head.

"No. We have a little explorer on our hands now. We will have to tape our eyes open, otherwise we could blink and she will be gone."

You stay frozen for a little longer, eyes wide and mouth agasp, before your body deflates and you slap your palm against your forehead with a deep groan.

"Welcome to the start of toddler life, amor!"

The chaos of having a small child that now possessed many worrisome abilities wasn't all bad, because after all, there were still many moments that continuously proved everything that parenthood involved was 100% worth it.

Any challenges or difficulties that life threw at you and Alexia were almost always temporarily forgotten whenever Anaís was around. That was the best thing about having a child; they are so young and innocent and cheerful, it's hard to feel down for too long when they're giggling in your face or squealing at nothing or even just sleeping in your arms.

That's where Alexia found herself today.

Even with her newfound confidence and willpower for football, sometimes that all slipped out from underneath her feet. That was the case with the game she'd just arrived home from. Anaís had had a small sleep regression recently, causing the both of you to be up and down constantly all night. Ultimately it took its toll on the both of you, but with you still on maternity leave whilst Alexia travelled around Spain and Europe for match after match, she was inexplicably exhausted.

Everything had caught up with her it seemed, because no matter how hard she tried and how frustrated she got, nothing went her way in the game. So much so that she was taken off at the 60 minute mark due to her performance, something that hadn't happened to her in... well, she couldn't remember.

The only positive from the day was the fact it was a home game, meaning she'd be able to crawl into bed and hide from the world for sometime with her little family. She wouldn't be lying if she said she had never desired anything more.

When she got back to the house, you were in the kitchen having just eaten a late dinner as Anaís was lay in her mobile swing, the saving grace to her sleeping issues as it seemed to be the only thing to get her off to sleep at night now. There was a plate of food waiting in the microwave for Alexia, but her appetite was completely gone at this point.

"Hola." She whispered when she walked into the room.

"Ale." You smiled sadly at her broken demeanour, immediately opening your arms. With a slight hesitation, she comes over and allows herself to let go in your embrace, and the tension you feel under your arms tells you everything you need to know about her current state of mind. "I know you're probably frustrated with yourself about today, but I want you to know I'm still proud of you. For everything, absolutely everything."

"W... Why?" Alexia mumbles insecurely.

With a frown, you lean back slightly and bring up both hands to rest on her cheeks. She doesn't meet your eyes until you raise her chin up a little, and it opens up a world of emotional complexity.

"Why am I proud of you?" You repeat and Alexia nods. "Because you are playing football at the highest standard in Europe and achieving so much, whilst also being the best Mami for our little girl. That's hard, Alexia, two very difficult things to juggle at once and you just do it. I can't ask anymore from you. That is why I'm proud of you."

She makes a noise of uncertainty, almost like she can't believe you'd say such a thing. At that, you sigh and urge her to bury her face back into your neck, to which she does so instantly. One of her hands comes up to clutch at the back of your neck as the other wraps tightly around the small of your back, and you let her stay like that for as long as she needs.

Some time passed before she decided to pull back, to which she rested her temple against yours for a few seconds until she looked down at you.

"Thank you." Alexia breathes out, turning slightly to look at where Anaís was fast asleep in her swing. "I... I know she is asleep, but can I pick her up? Please?" You pull a face at the question, wondering why she's asking to pick up her own daughter, but Alexia interprets it differently. "I just need to hold her, amor. If I wake her up, it's my fault and I-"

"No, Ale, of course you can pick her up. Of course you can." You tell her, and she moves instantly.

This version of Alexia you unfortunately knew too well. Even as a senior, veteran player, her whole self-worth completely crumbled whenever she gave a poor performance in a game. It was something about her that would probably never change, so you had grown accustomed to it over time. And tonight was one of those especially bad occasions, but it's the first time it had happened since Anaís had come into your lives, so you were sure that the little girl's presence was involved in the buildup to Alexia's current mindset, but she could also be the exact solution the Spaniard needed.

With your worries for your partner in the back of your mind, you watched as Alexia delicately unclasped the buckle keeping Anaís secure before picking her up.

"Shh, mi nena, sólo soy yo, tu Mami." She quietly soothed her, one hand holding Anaís up against her shoulder as the other rubs comfortingly across her back. The little girl immediately turns her face into Alexia's neck, mewling at the disruption before she soon settled again. "Te quiero mucho, preciosa."

"Why don't you go through to the lounge and I'll heat up your dinner for you?" You suggest, watching as Alexia nods wordlessly and leaves the room.

Seeing her like this, it's unexplainably difficult. You know there is not much you can say that'll make a difference to how she feels right now, it's something Alexia has to work through on her own, a classic case of time heals all, but that acknowledgement doesn't soften the blow at all. However, you hope that spending time with you and Anaís will make her feel a little better before the night is over.

You get a hint of that when you walk into the lounge a few minutes later; Alexia is sat stiffly upright against the sofa, the uncomfortable position of her contrasted by her closed eyes as Anaís lay across her shoulder. Alexia had her face turned to the side into Anaís, and under the dim light of the room, lit up only by a lamp in the corner, you notice a stream of tears running down her cheek.

Wasting no time, you put the plate you were holding down onto the coffee table before sitting down beside them both. Careful not to disrupt the peace either of them had created, you wrap an arm around Alexia's shoulders and press a gentle kiss to her jaw. The midfielder shifts slightly so that she's leaning against you, keeping Anaís in place as you raise a hand to brush her tears away.

"Okay?" You whisper, resting your head against hers.

"Mhm." Her voice cracks slightly even as she hums, so you hug her a little tighter.

All three of you settle into silence, comforted by the sound of Anaís snoring lightly. Nothing needs to be said, nor could you think of anything, so you allow Alexia this moment to decompress from the day, wanting nothing more than for her to feel better. It doesn't matter to you how she gets there, whether that's by staying on this sofa all night long with you and Anaís, or forgetting to eat her dinner in front of her, whatever it takes you'll let her do. Because you think the world of her, and when she's feeling down, it offsets everything around you.

Until, some time later, Alexia breaks the silence with a sentiment that causes you to tear up too.

"I wish I could stay here forever."

She spoke so quietly, you would have missed it if you weren't waiting for it.

"Here, with you and with Anaís. Nobody watching us, no one asking anything from us. Just us three." It was clear from the tone of her voice that she's getting a bit teary again, and it tugs at every one of your heart strings. "Nothing can match this. I never want to do anything else again."

"Ale." You sigh shakily, suppressing cries of your own as her shoulders shake with silent sobs.

In her mind, she had to be completely silent, because if she woke up Anaís now, you don't even want to think about what her mind would tell her. It would be lethal. She couldn't handle failing at another thing, couldn't handle disappointing the two people she loved most.

"Go put her to bed before I wake her."

"Are you sure?" She nodded and shifted away from you.

"Don't want to wake her up."

With that, you stand up and watch Alexia place a final kiss to Anaís' forehead before she gives her to you. You move as quickly as possible without waking your daughter up, delicately placing her down in the crib in her room and grimacing as you do so in case she wakes up with a cry, but the universe must be on your side today because she stays asleep. A relieved sigh escapes you as you flick on the baby monitor, grabbing one of them and leaving the room. Heading back downstairs, you cautiously make your way back to the living room, not really sure what sight you'll walk into.

What you see is equally as heartbreaking as every time you'd looked at Alexia this evening.

She's seated in the same position as before, but this time her head is thrown back against the cushions of the sofa, and her face is completely stoic and devoid of emotion. The exception that gave her away were the stuttered breaths coming from her and the damp lines down her cheeks.

You join her again, wrapping both arms around her this time and pulling her fully into you. One of her hands comes up to grip your upper arm as she cries a little harder into your shoulder.

"We both love you, Alexia, so much. Please don't forget that." You remind her, stroking up and down her back as you embrace her. "You're more than good enough for us, no matter what your mind is telling you."

That seems to hit a sensitive point for her, because she only sobs harder into you. The only thing you can do now is be there for her, so you decide against speaking anymore to wait for her outburst of emotions to simmer down.

It takes longer than you expect, but eventually it does happen, and she falls quiet again whilst slumped against you. Casting your mind back through the years with her, you can't recall a time seeing Alexia as distraught as she was tonight. So, at that revelation, you gently urge her head back up from your shoulder and properly look at her. With your hands on either one of her cheeks, you lean in to press the softest kiss of mankind onto her forehead. It pulls more tears out of her, the tenderness of it, but her shoulders aren't wracking with sobs and her breathing is almost entirely normal.

"What's going on?" You question, gazing up into her normally piercing eyes, but tonight they were half-lidded and filled with defeat.

"No sé." She rasped. Her mind is way too convoluted to unravel everything going on at the moment, so she finds the words to say and pieces them together. "Not tonight. Please."

"Okay, that's okay. We don't have to." You reassure her, and you can see the relief flood her as her body deflates. "Can I talk though? I have some things to say."

"Sí." She shrugged, taking one of your hands with both of hers and fiddling with the rings you wore.

"Hey, you gotta look at me." You demand softly, tilting her chin up. You meet her eyes and smile a little, an act that rids her mind of one of the dark clouds over her. "I don't care how soppy and cliché this is, but meeting you is the best thing that has ever happened to me."

Alexia chuckles at that, something she's done thousands of times in front of you, but this one perhaps means the most.

"That is cliché." She comments, grinning half-heartedly when you roll your eyes.

"I already said it was, you can't claim that one. Let me finish." You push her shoulder lightly before composing yourself again. "You are the only person I want, Ale, and you mean so much to me. I can't even put it into words, so that's all you're getting for that part."

She laughs again, this time a little more tearfully as your loving words are fighting off all her doubts.

"To Anaís and I, it doesn't matter how many goals you get in a game or how many trophies you get in a season. I just want my Ale to be happy, and Anaís just wants her Mami to be happy. We will love you no matter what, and I'll be here as I am now to remind you, and Anaís will remind you the next time she's sick from you making her laugh." Alexia shakes her head at the reminder of an incident she had certainly learnt her lesson from a few months ago, the pair of you laughing quietly about it again. "You've seen the way Anaís looks at you. She's infatuated with you, Ale. And it's possibly my favourite thing in the world."

She sniffles a few times but nevertheless nods when you finish talking, feeling indefinitely better than she did when she got home. Raising your hand, she lightly kisses your ring finger before leaning forward to envelope you in a tight hug. It's an embrace that conveys all the words she can't verbalise right now, something you instantly understand as you know the woman in your arms better than she knows herself at this point.

"You're all we both will ever need. You just need to remember that more often."

There was a conversation that you and Alexia had had during the time you were trying to get pregnant, one that all same-sex couples most likely have at that stage. But it was resolved fairly quickly, and that was that you would be Mama and Alexia would be Mami. Ever since then, you and Alexia had endlessly teased and bantered each other about what Anaís would say first out of the two options.

What you weren't expecting though, was Alexia's reaction when Anaís eventually did say her first word.

Anaís bellowed her first word at you one random morning when you walked into her room where she sat waiting for her parents in her crib. Alexia was a few steps behind where you froze in place, overcome with about every emotion one could name at the fact Anaís had not only spoken, but said Mama too.

Alexia's excitement kicked in immediately, so she skipped over to Anaís' crib and picked her up, holding her in the air and grinning up at her.

"What did you just say, chiqui? Did you say... Mama?"

"Mama!" Anaís squealed loudly, giggling when Alexia rewarded her with a barrage of kisses.

You were still stuck in place, the only difference was that there were now tears of joy dripping onto the carpet by your feet. Alexia turned with your daughter in her arms, laughing when she brought her over to you.

"Hola, Mama! Let's wipe these tears, right Anaís?" She takes one of Anaís' hands and uses it to brush the tears off of your face. "Say the magic word, nena! Mama!"

"Mamaaaa." She shouts and to add to the sentiment of the moment, she points right at you as she says it, indicating that she does actually know what she's saying.

"Yes, well done! Oh, we are so proud of you, chiqui, aren't we?" You nod and cover your face with your hands, curling into Alexia's side. It's a struggle for her to hug you whilst also holding a wiggly Anaís who is always giddy in the morning, but she makes it work. "Sí, we are, Anaís. Mama, are you okay?"

"Yes, yes, perfect. I just can't believe she said it." You sniffle, removing your hands from your face but staying at Alexia's side.

Anaís grins as you reach out to cup her cheek, turning her head to blow raspberries against your hand. The three of you laugh together, you and Alexia forever enraptured by every display of Anaís' ever growing personality.

"I always knew she would say Mama first and I'm so glad she did." Alexia admits, chuckling at the confused face you pull.

"Why?" You wonder, leaning forward to kiss the tip of Anaís' nose.

"Because you deserve it. You did all the hard work with her, being pregnant and then giving birth like a campeona, and you do a great job being her Mama. It was only right for her to say it first."

You had no idea she felt such a way about the situation, and it only caused you to get emotional again. It wasn't that Alexia never voiced her gratitude towards you, she did it daily, it's just that hearing her speak so highly of you as a parent meant far more to you than you could ever voice.

"Thank you, Ale. That's unbelievably sweet of you to say." You giggle, thumbing away a few tears and leaning your head against her shoulder.

"Buena, it's the truth. Oye, Anaís?" Alexia calls back Anaís' attention, smirking when her daughter looks up at her. She raises her eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to say the inevitable. "Ma..."

"Mama!" Anaís grins at you again, jerking forwards towards you.

"Woah!" You catch her, holding her tight against you in a loving hug. "You are crazy, Anaís."

The little girl seems surprisingly outraged at that as starts to babble away unabashedly in your arms, her hands gesturing wildly as she did so, a trait she'd clearly picked up from her Mami. You giggle at her unintelligible ramble, blushing when Alexia randomly places an affectionate kiss on your cheek.

"Loca como su Mama, amor!" Alexia comments with a poke at Anaís' leg. "She even loves chattering away like you."

"Sí, nuestra paralanchina pequeña."

You tickle Anaís' tummy, interrupting her ramble. She turns to you with an angry face that is scarily similar to Alexia's, and the pair of you have to stifle your laughter at the sight of it out of fear of whatever terrible consequences she'd release upon you both.

"Enojada como su Mama también." Alexia mutters.

It's your turn to fix her with a warning glance. She instantly backs down with her hands up in surrender, stepping away from the fury running through the veins of her two favourite girls.

"Mama?" Anaís turns back to you with a questioning glance, and you take advantage of that.

"Sí, Anaís, Mami needs to run away right now, doesn't she?" You smile politely at your daughter, one she returns, before you both look back to Alexia with those menacing grins. A second passes before she sprints out the room. Anaís laughs and you chuckle too, walking out of the room in a much calmer fashion.

If there was one thing you'd learnt about parenting so far, it was that you should never take things for granted. There's a seemingly infinite number of firsts in a person's life and being there to witness them all as a parent was an experience that couldn't be conformed to a few measly adjectives. Sure, you would hear Anaís say 'Mama' countless times in your life, but you wouldn't ever get to hear it for the first time again. Sometimes, when you thought about that, you were consumed by sorrow, but that was part and parcel of parenthood. No matter how harrowing it was, you had no choice but to accept it.

The thing that easily made up for it was spending the rest of your life as a parent to Anaís, and in the grand scheme of things, that was the biggest privilege you could ever have.

Not so long after the beautiful experience that was Anaís' saying her first word, she turned a whole year old. One year of having a little plus one with you everywhere you went, one year of seeing the woman you love grow into an amazing parent, one whole year of nothing but the absolute best memories you've ever had the honour experiencing. To say it had been the best twelve months of your life was a complete understatement.

Obviously due to your work and Alexia's games, you had a very low-key day between yourselves on her actual birthday, and 'day' was a generous word. It was more of a frantic celebration because of course Anaís chose her birthday to be the day she had her first ever lie-in. When she finally woke up, it meant you only had less than an hour to spend as a family before Alexia had to leave for training which doubled into media day that she couldn't avoid. Fortunately, the team had organised it so that she was first so she could get home as soon as possible, but she had still grumbled about it everyday since it was arranged.

The short hour was enjoyable nevertheless, if not a little emotional, and you practically had to push Alexia out of the door so that she wasn't late. You understood her defiance, knowing that if you were in her shoes you would be wrecked at having to be away from Anaís on her birthday, but it was only for a few hours and that was enough persuasion for her to go.

When she did return, she hardly let Anaís out of her sight. That was until her closest family and childhood friends came over for a calm dinner to celebrate your daughter. It was turning out that Anaís was quite the social butterfly, so she was happy to be passed around all evening to the ones you and Alexia loved most. The day completely exhausted her though, and that night you and Alexia spent far longer than normal stood over her where she slept in her crib.

The midfielder was behind you with her arms around your torso, her chin on your shoulder as you both gazed at your daughter's sleeping form. This time a year ago, you were in a hospital bed with a tiny, wrinkly baby in your arms as Alexia lay beside you. Now, a year on, that little newborn had completely grown into her own and was fast on her way to walking. It was a bittersweet contrast for sure, but you were well adjusted to how fast time moves and how to accept things, so it didn't plague you in the same way things had in the past.

To Alexia, not that she had made you aware yet, this day wasn't just about Anaís, but you too. Because a year ago today, she had graced her eyes upon the greatest wonder in the world, and that was all down to you. You, who had gone through agonising pain for much longer than just the time you were in labour, and managed to deliver her daughter perfectly healthy. Never would she take that for granted, and she had a little trick up her sleeve to make sure you knew that.

"Amor, come to the lounge with me." She whispered, pairing it with a kiss to your bare shoulder beside your vest strap.

After a last moment of admiration, you nodded and allowed her to lead you to the living room, your hand in hers as you trailed after her. When you got there, she urged you to sit right in the middle of the sofa in front of the TV before she walked off to grab her laptop. She came back in a few moments later and turned the TV on, then mirroring her laptop screen to show up on the bigger screen. You watched it all with a curious frown, none the wiser to what you were about to see.

"I wanted to make something for us to remember the past year by." Alexia said, pausing as she searched for the right file. "It is also a gift from me to you because we should celebrate you too today. You gave birth to our little girl, and that is no easy feat. So this is just a small way for me to express my gratitude to you since words will never do you justice."

You'd be lying if you said your heart wasn't beating about a hundred miles an hour by now. Alexia hadn't even shown you what she had organised yet, but you had an inkling that in a few moment's time you would be emotionally ruined.

Alexia pressed play on the video she had pulled up and came to sit beside you. Before the first image had even come on, it was still just a black screen, you scrambled to find her hand and clutched it tightly in your lap.

In the next couple minutes, numerous photos and videos of your little family of three were displayed on the screen, a compilation of all the best documented moments captured within the last year. Some of them were taken by you obviously, but the larger majority of them were from Alexia's point of view and you had a sneaky feeling that was the point of it. A lot of the things in the montage you hadn't even seen, like the video of you singing a Spanish nursery rhyme to Anaís one night when she was still a newborn, or the picture of you fast asleep with Anaís on your chest with two fistfuls of your t-shirt, and way more of the same value that had you crying almost instantly.

Next to you, Alexia had a pensive look on her face, anxious as to what your thoughts were. Obviously she noticed you were crying, but she stayed unmoving until the video ended and you reacted first.

And due to a lack of better words in the moment, you accidentally give Alexia a momentary heart attack...

"Alexia, what the hell?" You cried, one hand over your eyes. The Spaniard froze beside you because out of all the thing she expected you to say, that was not one of them.

"Did you not like it?" She asked in an insecure voice, to which you turned to her in shock.

"No, I loved it, Ale." You told her, and she left out perhaps the biggest sigh of relief you had ever seen someone do. "Why did you do it though?"

"Because I just appreciate you so much, amor, and I need you to know that. Seeing you and watching you with Anaís is a magical thing to witness and I wanted you to see it through my eyes. It is the greatest honour of my life, being able to love you both. The second greatest honour is being alive to witness you with her." She explained earnestly, her free hand that wasn't held by yours coming to cradle your face. You leaned into it immediately, the image of you with your head tilted to the side with a soft pout and tears on your cheeks drove Alexia crazy. "Look at you! I can't get enough of you, you make me go crazy."

With a wet laugh, you raised a hand up to rest on the back of hers on your face and turned to kiss her palm.

"You drive me crazy with your grand gestures like you just did! You need to tell me who made that for you so that I can get them to do one for your Christmas present." You say, Alexia chuckling and shaking her head.

She manoeuvres you so that you're sat on her lap with your back to her chest, and she hugs you tighter than ever like that.

"You see what I see now?" She murmurs into your ear, and you're unsure if the hand that settles over your stomach is a subtle hint.

"What's that?" You wonder innocently, leaning your head back to rest against her shoulder. With you like that, she turns to place a few gentle kisses to the new skin on show.

"I see the most incredible, beautiful, and caring Mami in the world. One that loves so whole-heartedly, you leave an imprint on everyone you come across. When I first met you and I fell victim to that effect, I knew I had to have you. But I had no idea quite the impact you would have on my life. I find myself doing the stupidest things in the world just so I hear two people laugh." She huffs, grinning when she hears you giggle. "I also find myself loving the two most amazing people on the planet. These two people happen to love me too, and I have to think of myself as the luckiest person in the world to say that. My fortune far precedes my most ambitious dreams, because with you and Anaís in my life, what more could I want?"

Oh, what a fool you would be to deny her of that.

Later that same summer came the World Cup, and this time around it was held in Brazil. If it wasn't for Anaís, you would have of course tried to get over there for at least one of Alexia's games. But that would be too challenging and complicated to do with a one year old, so Alexia didn't even blink twice when you fearfully brought up that fact to her on one of the last nights you would spend with her before the summer turn of games started.

Before Alexia left though, you had a small present in store for her. The morning of the day she would be leaving, you were adamant at being the one to dress Anaís because there was a vital piece of her outfit that she needed to wear.

That key item was a Spain jersey of course, with Mami 11 printed on the back. So when you walked into the kitchen where Alexia ate her breakfast, she gave you a funny look at the weird way you were carrying Anaís. But that look was wiped off her face when you place Anaís on the ground for her to walk over to Alexia. The midfielder's jaw dropped as she noticed her daughter's shirt, but it wasn't until she spotted the detail on the back that she was overcome with emotion.

"Amor, you did this?" Alexia asked, abandoning her breakfast as she crouched down and held her arms out for a wobbly Anaís to wander over to her.

"I did." You replied proudly, watching as Alexia hugged her daughter tightly before turning her around so she could get a good look at her jersey.

"Dios mío, pingüino. Look at you." Alexia whispers in amazement, then she picks up Anaís and walks over for a family hug. "Thank you, thank you. That's amazing."

And of course, for every one of Spain's matches that tournament, you and Anaís were watching with your jerseys on in full support for Alexia. Before each game, you would take a photo of you both and send it to Alexia, which she told you was what empowered her to walk out onto the pitch for every game. You and your daughter missed Alexia of course, but it was much harder for her since she was halfway across the world from her family.

It was that much harder when her team were knocked out of the tournament in the semi-finals.

...But, when she arrived back to her hotel room later that night after that dreadful game, she sensed a spark of her excitement in her chest, because the loss meant she could come home. It meant she could finally see you and Anaís after what felt like a lifetime apart, and she focused all of her energy on that eagerness she felt instead of the effects of the defeat.

And the reunion was so worth it, because this time you and Anaís did greet her with a sign at the airpot this time, and the Spaniard all but collapsed into the arms of you both when she saw you.

You thought the biggest shock of your summer would be Spain getting knocked out in the semi-finals, but unbeknownst to you, there was a whole other storm coming.

After the World Cup, Alexia whisked you and Anaís away on a holiday to escape from the world and spend time together as a family without the pressures of life. But when you were lounging on one of the outdoor beds on the balcony of your hotel room one day of the holiday, you heard a statement you were not expecting.

"I'm going to retire from the national team."

Alexia was wandering aimlessly around the balcony, trying to bounce Anaís to sleep for her mid-day nap when she had said it.

"What?" You sat up and raised your sunglasses to look at her properly, wondering if you there was a chance you had heat stroke and may had hallucinated it.

"I said I am retiring from the national team." She repeated nonchalantly, as if she hadn't just revealed huge news.

"I'm not quite sure we're on the same page, Ale. Could you explain a little?"

With a chuckle, Alexia tugs Anaís' hat further down so that it blocks the sun from her eyes when Alexia sits on the edge of your sun bed.

"I have decided to step down from the national team, for good. I have much more interesting things to do with my time now." She shrugged, glancing down at her daughter. "When we get back from vacation, I have a meeting with the federation to tell them. Nobody knows, it's a decision I made for myself."

"Are you sure?" You're a bit speechless, caught off guard by the sudden admission.

"Very sure. I'm certain that this is what I want to do. I'm content with everything I've achieved for the team, so now is my time. I'm not ready to retire fully, that's a while off yet, but I don't want to spend so long away from you both again. It's just not worth it. I'm not missing that much of Anaís' life again." Alexia explains.

You take a moment to process the sudden declaration, before you lean forward to wrap an arm around her and hugging her carefully, mindful of Anaís in between you both.

"Well, I guess that's that. As long as you're sure, Ale, then there's not much to say. I'm grateful you've made that decision, who would I be to get upset at the fact we're going to have more time together?" You say, noticing the relieved smile on her face. "You don't want to, I don't know, discuss it a bit more? With anyone, doesn't have to be me. I just don't want you to regret it."

"No, I'm completely okay with it, amor. I think I had already made this decision before Brazil. It was something I needed to figure out on my own, and I have had long enough to process it and now I'm fine with it. I think I am actually excited."

Now that she mentions it, she does have a lighter look in her eyes, like this is a weight off of her shoulders. She had come back from the tournament with that look, and it irritated you that you couldn't figure it out at first, but now you completely understood it. You smile at her, filled from head to toe with pride and love for the woman in front of you, and you lean forward to kiss her softly.

"I'm happy to hear that." You whisper, and she can't help but lean back for more.

One more thing about parenthood to add to the list, was that children had the worst timing in the world.

"Oh no. Ay dios. I'm sorry, amor, I would really love to continue this but I need to go change her diaper right now."

Before you could open your eyes, Alexia was scurrying off into the hotel room, and you didn't even want to know what had just happened.

There soon came to be a very special occasion for Alexia, one she had been dreaming of for as long as she could remember. For some time now, you and Alexia had had multiple discussions about when Anaís would go to her first game, and finally the pair of you had landed on an option.

Barcelona were due to play in the final of the Super Cup in Madrid, and you, Anaís, and other members of Alexia's family were travelling to attend the game. You were beyond excited for it; since Anaís had come into your life, you had hardly been to many of Alexia's games, something you adored doing before you had a child to care for.

Alexia, on the other hand, was encumbered by nerves as she lined up in the tunnel for the game. She can't remember the last time she had been nervous for a match, so she didn't really know what to do with herself. For the few minutes she was in the tunnel, her mind was almost in overdrive - would Anaís be okay? You and her family were there for her, she had to be. Would she kick up a fuss? She was still only young after all. Would she hate the amount of people there and the noise of it all? Well, that one couldn't be possible because Alexia had bought some baby ear defenders that she demanded you pack, so at least there was one surefire solution. She couldn't spiral for any longer though because Cata shoved her from behind when the captain didn't move.

The game went off without a hitch, and when Alexia did her pre-match tradition as she hopped onto the pitch, her mind clicked into concentration. That didn't stop her from glancing up at the section of the stadium she knew her family was in though, desperate to catch a glimpse of her daughter. She finally did spot you both as she was walking off the pitch at half-time, almost melting on the spot when she saw you holding Anaís who of course wore a Barcelona jersey on top of her jumper so that she stayed warm. With an eager wave, she admired the view for a bit longer, before jogging off to the tunnel.

She was glad to find that her nerves didn't affect her performance, bagging two assists to help the team win 3-1. It was a great match to watch as a fan, and you were thrilled for Alexia and her team, and the cherry on the cake was the fact that Anaís had been no trouble at all throughout it. For about twenty minutes of the first half, she fell asleep, but was startled awake by the crowd (and you) when Barcelona scored their first goal. Since then, she had been wide awake, and as good as gold.

From your place in the stands, you watched on with pride as the trophy ceremony carried out, forever happy to see Alexia with a medal around her neck and a trophy in her arms.

But perhaps the most exciting moment of the day for Alexia was when you walked out of the tunnel a little while later with Anaís in your arms. Alexia ran over as soon as she spotted you, knowing this was the plan all along if Anaís had coped well. She laughed giddily as she approached you and wrapped you both up in a tight hug, flooded with pure happiness.

"Well done, Mami!" You grin, patting her cheek a few times before offering Anaís out to her.

"Mami!" Anaís shouted in Alexia's face, before her attention inevitably falls to the shiny metal hanging from her neck, She tries to pick it up, but it's a little heavy for her, meaning it thumps Alexia heavily in the chest.

"Oof, Anaís." Alexia huffs, taking off her medal and putting it around your neck instead.

"Ale." You roll your eyes, cheeks slightly red, and when you try to take it off her hand reaches out to stop it.

"Leave it, amor." She smirks, kissing you quickly as you go to argue again. Leaving you a tad flustered, she turns back to her daughter. "Oye, Anaís! What's that?"

The midfielder points to one of the footballs off at the side of the pitch, and Anaís' face immediately lights up.

"Ball!" She grins, reaching a grabby hand out towards it.

"You want to play?" Alexia wonders, going over to collect the ball and walking it further onto the field before placing Anaís down in front of it. "Kick it, chiqui!"

Rather unceremoniously, Anaís does kick it but not without falling afterwards. You laugh as she tumbles down, Alexia rushing over and doting on her.

"Ale, she'll be okay, don't stress her out." You tell her, to which she nods and rights her daughter again before coming back to your side. "She doesn't quite have your elegance yet."

"I know." Alexia snickers, and the pair of you follow to wherever Anaís toddles off to. "Look at her go though. Not really a waddling little pingüino anymore."

The nickname, 'pingüino', had come about back when Anaís took her first steps just after she turned a year old, and it had stuck since then.

"No, she isn't." You hum in agreement, throwing an arm around Alexia's waist as you continue trailing after your little girl. "Uh oh."

There wasn't any real danger when you uttered that, it was just Mapi.

"Hola nena! Wow, look at you!" Mapi ran over to her and swooped her up off the ground. "What name do you have on your back... oh, boo! Boring! I think you should have my name, sí Ale?"

"Over my dead body." Alexia grumbled, elbowing you when you laughed at her grumpiness. "That is an emergency shirt, we didn't have time for a name because we didn't realise her other one was too small for her jumper."

"Blah, blah, blah... no wonder you are always sleepy, Anaís, her talking is tiring me too!" Mapi teased, wincing dramatically at the disapproving huff Alexia gives. "Oh no, nena. We need to run. Let's go play before Mami kills me, huh?"

You shake your head at Mapi's antics and watch as she steals your daughter away to play football with her. Alexia has a subtle smile on her face, and you giggle quietly when you see it, knowing she's trying to act like the captain she is but can't resist the cuteness of her daughter.

"Cálmate, Capi." You bump your hip into hers, smirking when she looks down at you with a suppressed grin. Now you take the medal off and place it back around her neck, silencing her complaints in the same way she did to you earlier. "You have too many medals and trophies now, campeona, I'm not sure our house can stand the extra weight."

"Behave." Alexia muttered lovingly, pulling you in for a proper hug. "Thank you for coming, and thank you for bringing her too."

"Of course. I loved being at a game again, and Anaís handled it perfectly. She had a little nap in the first half but stayed awake for the rest of it."

"Really?" Alexia said, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise as her face contorted to one of shy excitement, an adorable sight to see.

"Yes, she did. She didn't cry once, she was very settled." Alexia nodded and casted her eyes back over to Anaís. "Told you she would love going to your games."

At that, she finally lets herself break out into a whole-hearted grin, and she hugs you tight to her side as you watch Mapi and a few others dote over Anaís.

"I need her at every game. She is my good luck charm." She mumbles, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "Mapi is going to injure our mija."

She wasn't exactly wrong on that part; Mapi had started passing the ball softly to Anaís and urging her to kick it, to which she did but not without falling over again. The defender can't help herself: she passes Anaís the ball over and over, and Anaís tumbles down each time. Mapi would burst out laughing, before helping Anaís up and giving her the ball once more. Luckily Anaís saw the humour in it too, giggling almost just as much as Mapi.

Alexia let it happen once more before marching over. You were a little out of earshot, but you saw Alexia pick Anaís up from the floor and brush off the grass from her clothes, then she turned to Mapi with an accusing point and most likely the sternest voice she could muster. From your viewpoint, you could tell Mapi was stifling yet more laughter, but she kept up the innocent act in front of her friend. And when Alexia turned away from her with a shake of her head, Mapi looked over at you with a huge grin that you matched, letting her know she wasn't actually in trouble like Alexia tried to establish.

"That woman is the bane of my life." Alexia complained when she came back over to you, a slightly damp and grassy child in her arms.

"Mm, you love her really." You retaliate, flicking a blade of grass off of Anaís' arm.

"So what." Alexia huffed, cradling Anaís closely to her chest and swaying a little. "Oh, dios. She's so grown up."

"I know." You pout at the sight of Anaís in her arms, now calm and a bit tired. "Already kicking a ball about."

"We must buy her some football boots soon." You shake your head and laugh.

"She's not even two years old yet."

"Doesn't matter, amor. Project Putellas starts now."

The night before Anaís' second birthday was a turning point to remember; you and Alexia, in the spur of the moment, agreed on having another child in the very near future. When she initiated the decision, you hadn't even hesitated to affirm your willingness to her. It was an easy choice for you because both of you had always wanted two children, but in the past two years the topic of making that happen had hardly been brought up. You knew the time would come, and now it was here.

For the rest of the time you spent preparing the cake for it to go in the oven, the pair of you revelled in the coy anticipation that lingered in the air. Separately, your minds were running wild with the limitless possibilities that could occur in the next few years, until you stood up from placing the tray in the oven and Alexia was there, gazing at you with the softest smile she could muster.

"Another baby, huh?" She commented quietly, taking hold of your hand.

"Apparently so." You matched her smile, both of you watching the other before Alexia pulled you in for a tight hug. "You sure?"

"Amor, que pregunta tan estupida." She said bluntly, making you laugh. "I have never been so sure of a decision before. I believe now is the time for us to have another, as long as you are sure."

"Oh, what a stupid thing to say." You teased her, grinning when she grumbled and lightly hit your waist. "I'm more than ready to have another."

"Hm, good." She smirks, and her hands travel a little lower on your back. "We can go try if you'd like?"

"Really?" You scoffed, swatting her hands away and stepping out of her grasp. "Come on. Help me make this icing. And don't make any inappropriate suggestions."

From that day on, the pair of you delve yourselves into the process of IVF again. After last time, you both were more than happy with it all and how the process goes, so you chose the reciprocal type again and were there for each other through it all once again. It was a little trickier trying to do injections with an investigative toddler who wanted to be involved with it too, never straying far from you two, but you made it work.

However, not all things can go to plan. Perhaps the first time with Anaís had been too good to be true, because conceiving this time was much more difficult.

Over and over, yours and Alexia's emotions were tugged from left to right, one day on cloud nine and other days plunged into the deepest melancholia. It was a ruthless and relentless cycle of hope, anticipation, disappointment and frustration. Your self-worth took a gut-wrenching blow each time, your mind overgrown with blame and guilt and inadequacy. But, as someone wise beyond their years once said, your fortune far preceded your hopes because each and everytime Alexia and Anaís were there to pull you back up out of your pit of darkness.

"Amor." Alexia whispered gently one morning, sitting beside where you lay in bed and placing Anaís in her lap. "Wake up, mija, it is a big day, we need y-"

"Mama! Up, now!" Anaís shouted, pushing against your shoulder.

"Anaís, no! That is not nice, I told you to be gentle. Gentle, sí?" Alexia scolds quietly, about to warn Anaís again when you rolled over with a tight-lipped smile on your face.

"Morning." You muttered, bracing yourself when you saw Anaís stand in Alexia's lap. "Oof, chiqui, good morning to you too."

"Feliz navidad, mis amores." Alexia said, resting a hand on Anaís' back as a reminder for her to stay calm.

"Christmas, Mama." Anaís grinned down at you, placing two heavy hands on your cheeks, smushing them together, and giving you a quick kiss.

"Mhm, happy Christmas, bebíta." You sat up and gave her a hug that lasted about a millisecond due to her very limited attention span.

"Anaís, why don't you go get your stocking from your room? We will open it in here." She didn't need to be told twice - she leaped off the bed, briefly scaring the life out of you and Alexia, before racing out of the room. Alexia turned to you when she left, looking over you with a watcful eye. "How are you, amor?"

The previous day, cruelly on Christmas Eve, you both had found out that the third IVF attempt had not resulted in a pregnancy. What should have been a day filled with fesitivies and joy and tradition, was instead another day of grieving. After you had gotten home from the appointment, Alexia had quickly dropped Anaís off at Eli's for the afternoon so that her full attention could be on you. Not much was said or done, this had occurred one too many times now for any words to be of gratification. You both just needed time together, away from any other worries, to be able to process it. The healing process wasn't a straightforward one, you didn't magically feel better this morning, but knowing what day it was made it just a tad easier.

"Not bad, but not great. I just don't want to think about it. For one day at least." You answered, and she nodded instantly.

"We can do our best. When that little rocket is around, I think we'll be swept off our feet." Alexia said, glad to hear even just the breath of laughter you give her. "Don't hesitate to tell me if you need a break though. You let me know how you're doing, alright?"

"I will. Thank you, Ale." You told her earnestly, offering a semi-genuine smile to her.

"Te amo mucho, siempre. Siempre, amor." Alexia whispered when she wrapped you up in her arms.

Then Anaís came steaming back in, her Christmas stocking dragging along behind her unceremoniously, and you giggle when Alexia tells her off for it. The little girl sassed back a reply and Alexia can't help but laugh too, helping her lift it onto the bed. Watching your daughter's face light up with every gift she opens and how she hugs you both tightly after every single one, it's hard to be enveloped by the gloom your mind tried to subdue you into. Anaís was the best gift of all, and if a second child wasn't meant to be, you still had this beautiful girl that made you numb to all the problems life threw at you.

In the midst of this ongoing IVF journey came Alexia's birthday, and to distract yourself from the difficulty of the past few months, you had set yourself and Anaís a project to do as a gift. It was a minor token of appreciation for the woman who had been nothing short of perfect throughout it all, forever there to lean on and pick up the pieces when you need her to.

The day had come for you both to show off what you'd done for her, and though you'd already spent the morning at home with Anaís and Alexia, as well as giving her a few other gifts, this was the part you were most looking forward to. And as you pulled up to the Barcelona training facilities where you would see your hard work for the first time before surprising her, it was safe to say you hadn't felt such excitement in a long while.

"So, frecas, are you ready to surprise Mami?" You smile at Anaís through the rearview mirror of your car just as you pull into a parking space.

"Mamiiii!" Anaís sings from her seat, her little feet swinging excitedly.

"Sí, Mami!" You repeat back, turning off the car before hopping out and walking to Anaís' door. "Vale, mi niña pequeña, what do we have to remember whilst we're here?"

"Be nice, hold your hand, and... smile!"

You laugh at that last one, because you and Alexia never have to remind her to smile as it's something she is always doing anyway. The pair of you love to tell her how happy she makes everyone around her with her cheeky smile, and from then she'd taken it upon herself to do it, somehow, even more often.

"Yes, everybody loves it when you smile." You tap her nose lightly, delighted to hear her giggle. "Do you remember how today is going to go?"

"Tell me?" Anaís asks as you help her out of the car.

"Yep, I can tell you." You reply, taking her hand and leading her to the reception. "We're going to be taken to an office where we can finally see the gift you made for Mami. Then we can give it to her, and maybe if you're up for it, we can have lunch with everybody. Are you excited?"

"Mhm." Anaís mutters quietly, indicating she was feeling a little uncertain about something. When you're away from the car park and outside the main doors, you turn to her and crouch to her height.

"What's up, mi chiqui? Is there something bugging you?" You question softly, taking both of her hands and squeezing them.

"Nervous." She admits, shuffling forward in a silent plea for a hug, which you immediately engage in.

"It's okay to be nervous, isn't it? Mami and I get nervous still and we're old." You joke, hearing her giggle slightly into your shoulder. "What's making you nervous?"

"The people." Anaís tells you, to which you nod understandingly.

"That's alright, thank you for telling me. There might be a lot of people today, most of them you will know though. They're all Mami's friends, aren't they?" She nods shyly when you move back to look at her face. "They are. You just stick with me and Mami when we see her, we've got you. Always. And if you don't want to stay for dinner, let me know and we can go home. Okay?"

"Okay." She smiles brightly up at you, an image you wished you could treasure forever, and you lean forward to kiss her forehead.

"Perfecta, mi amor. Venga!" You take her hand again and press the buzzer to be let into the building. "Do you know what Mami says when she gets nervous?"

"Mami asks for your besitos!" Anaís answers with a grin, catching you off guard. The question was more of a rhetorical one, but you had underestimated your daughter's cheekiness.

"Well, she does, but that's not what I was going to say." You laugh, cheeks red, opening the doors when they unlock. "Mami says that most of the time she doesn't need to feel nervous because the thing she was worrying about is never as bad as she thinks. Do you understand?"

"No." Anaís shrugs bluntly, again making you laugh as you lead her into the reception.

"Okay, chiqui, forget I spoke." You say with a light eye roll, the small girl giggling to herself beside you.

Signing both of you in, you make small talk with the receptionist who hands you two name stickers. Anaís was currently in a phase where she just could not get enough of stickers, so you gasp excitedly for her.

"Pegatina?" She looks up at you with a giddy face, politely snatching the sticker from you and putting it in the center of her sweater.

"Sí!" You smile at her excitement, and an idea comes to mind. You turn back to the receptionist with a plan. "Existe alguna posibilidad de que tengas una hoja extra de pegatinas en blanco? Mi chiqui los adora."

"Claro! Aquí tienes." The lady smiles brightly at you and hands over a sheet of blank stickers. She waves at Anaís, who returns the gesture shyly before you turn to her and show off the item in your hand.

"Mirar, Anaís! More stickers!" Your daughter gasps loudly at the surprise, gazing up at you like you'd just given her the best gift in the world.

"Gracias, Mama!" She squeals, moving to hug your leg tightly.

"No problem, mija. You can draw on them at dinner if you'd like." You say, ducking down to kiss the top of her head. "I'll put them away for now, Mami finishes training soon so we need to go."

With Anaís' hand in yours, you lead her through the building and towards the meeting room you had been informed to go through. Nowadays you were more than familiar with your way around the facilities, having been here numerous times, but you can tell Anaís is still a bit apprehensive. And as a result of yours and Alexia's healthy parenting habits, she didn't hesitate to tell you again.

"Mama, I'm scared." She says, tugging on your hand and coming to a standstill outside the office just as you go to open it.

"Scared about what?" You frown, bending down again and brushing a few wisps of her out of her face.

"Mami will not like her gift."

That broke your heart, because you could already picture Alexia's reaction when she saw what Anaís had done for her. You made a bet with Eli and Alba that she would cry when she received the gift, something they instantly agreed with.

"Anaís, I promise you, Mami will love her present. I know she will, you don't need to worry or be scared. She will really love them. I pinky promise." You hold her hand out for her to link fingers with you, and after a moment of careful consideration, she nods and seals the promise.

"Ready now." She says confidently, so you smile and stand up again.

Knocking twice, you open the door to find a few members of staff there - a few from Barça and a few from the team you'd worked with at Nike. In the middle of the table was the box that contained the surprise, and Anaís' eyes widened so far they almost bugged out of her head.

"There, Mama." She said in a loud whisper, the others in the room smiling brightly at her excitement.

"There they are! Let's go sit down and look at them."

You lead her to the table and sit down in a middle seat, keeping Anaís on your lap. One of the Nike staff talks you through them briefly, giving you an update on the process, and the whole time Anaís bounces giddily. She was getting a little antsy and you figured it was a bit of an odd situation for her to be in; sat in a room with unfamiliar people, one holding a camera to film the day, all whilst the thing she'd been desperate to see for over a month sat waiting in the middle. Somehow she had managed to keep the whole thing a secret, Alexia to your knowledge none the wiser about the whole thing. There were nearly a few slip-ups, but so far so good.

"Okay, that's all I think. You can look at them now."

Anaís grins as you reach for the box and pull it closer, putting it within reach for her to open it.

"Go on, Anaís, you can look."

You watch her face rather than look at the gift at first, your heart clenching at the utter joy and awe on her face as she lifts the lid off of the box. She lets out an adorable gasp, reaching a hand out and delicately picking up one of the things in there.

"Mama... I love them." She states, turning to look at you and showing off the item in her hand.

"They are amazing, aren't they? They came out perfect, wow." You take the other one out from the box, examining it closely. "Mami will adore them."

"When is she coming?" Anaís wonders, and you look up to the Barça staff.

"Training will finish any second now. They'll text when she's on h-" His phone pings as he speaks. "Ah, she is on her way now."

"Great! Anaís, let's put these back in the box so Mami can open it for herself." Anaís nods eagerly and carefully puts them back in, before turning and hugging you unexpectedly. "Hey, what's this for?"

"Mami will love her gift. I know it!" She squeals, pulling back and placing a sloppy kiss to your cheek.

"Thank you for that! How lucky I am to have such a kind, cute little girl, huh?" You smile at her, leaning forward to kiss all over her face. She squeals again and hides herself in your shoulder, pressing kisses of her own to your shirt. "Do you remember what to say when Mami walks in?"

"Umm... felicidades?" Anaís says, and you nod proudly.

"Perfect! Bien, mi niña."

No less then five minutes later, you can hear footsteps and a familiar voice coming down the corridor.

"-are you making me do media without showering? It was hot today, I'm all swe-"

Alexia cuts herself when she opens the door to see you and Anaís there. It's a far better surprise than media.

"What are you two doing here?" She asks with a huge smile on her face, frozen in place at the door.

"Say it, Anaís." You whispered in your daughter's ear.

"Felicidades, Mami." Anaís says shyly, and Alexia bounds over to her to pick her up and hug her tightly.

"Thank you, princesa! What a lovely surprise!" She exclaims, looking over at you for a bit of context.

"We have a better surprise for you. Come sit down." You tell her, patting the chair next to you.

Everyone else in the room stands back and watches, and Alexia takes her seat with Anaís curled into her side. With a quick kiss to her forehead, she gestures to the box in front of her.

"This?" She wonders, and before you could get a word in, Anaís pipes up.

"Open it, Mami! It is the best gift ever!" She urges, patting her leg to try and hurry her up.

"Alright, alright. Cheeky." Alexia tuts jokingly, reaching around Anaís to flick the lid open. Her jaw drops when she looks inside, and of all things in the world, she wasn't expecting them.

Inside, were two completely customised football boots, designed by Anaís with help from you and a team at Nike.

The design of the boots were fairly similar, except for a few tiny details that were special to each one. They were mainly white, and on each toe end of the boots were Anaís' hand prints in the blaugrana colours. Under the Nike tick on the outside of each boot were Anaís' initials with a penguin beside them. Additionally, under the logo on the inside of the boots were the words 'Vamos Mami' written in Anaís' squiggly handwriting. Every single detail, from the heartwarmingly poor stick figure drawing of Alexia on the back of the boots with the words 'My Hero' beside them, to the one of Alexia's favourite flowers and the other little contextual family inclusions, sent her into an emotional frenzy.

They were obviously majoritively designed by a small child, Anaís, but that was what made them so very special to Alexia. To her, they were probably the best gift she could've received purely based off of the sentimental value of them, and she had had tears in her eyes the moment she saw them.

"Anaís... wow." Alexia choked out, hastily wiping away one that slipped out. "You made these?"

"I did! Me and Mama!" Anaís claimed proudly, grinning up at Alexia and helping her to brush her tears away. But the sight of her crying confused her, and her smile quickly turned into a frown. "Oh. Not happy?"

"No, no, I'm so happy, Anaís, so happy. I love them so much that I'm crying, how silly?" Anaís giggled at her Mami, and the whole thing to you was ineffably adorable. "Oh wow. I really love them."

"Can you wear them for your games?" Anaís wonders.

"Well, I will, but only for my most important games. I don't want to ruin them and get them all muddy."

"We have a replica pair at home so you don't need to worry about that." You tell her, and she reaches over to take your hand, squeezing it gratefully.

"Thank you both. You really thought of everything." She shakes her head and sighs shakily, unable to tear her eyes away from them. "Anaís, is this a picture of me?"

Anaís giggles and nods as Alexia points to the stick figure of herself.

"I drawed it." Anaís says, and you stifle a laugh at the ridiculousness of the drawing. It is definitely easy to figure out it's done by an almost 3 year old.

"These are the best present I've ever got." It's then that she notices even the shoelaces are customised; red and blue hearts drawn by Anaís are patterned up and down the laces, and even the aglets of them have Anaís' name written there. "You both really thought of everything."

"We did our best." You affirm, leaning into her side when she holds her arm out. The arm of the chairs make it a little uncomfortable, but it doesn't take away from the moment.

"Tengo la mejor familia, eh?" Alexia whispers, kissing Anaís' forehead again, then your cheek. "Mis amores, are you staying for lunch?"

"Anaís was a little bit nervous about that earlier." You reveal, and the little girl nods sheepishly.

"Hey, that's okay! You can stay with me and Mama if you need to, everybody just loves seeing you smile, mi sol pequeña." Alexia says to Anaís, and the girl follows through immediately with her big, cheesy smile. "Exactly like that. Shall we go now? I'm hungry and I want to show off my amazing gift to everybody."

After that, the three of you make your way round to the cafeteria. Anaís sits on your lap throughout, eating a bowl of her favourite meal, tomato pasta, before drawing personalised name stickers for everyone she knows. Her tiny mind gets blown away when she finds out Mapi's last name means lion, so she of course has to sit with her for the rest of dinner to discuss such an outrageous topic. It gives you and Alexia a moment alone after it all, and she shuffles your chair closer so that she can whisper endless amount of soft words to you. She can't believe her fortune at having two people do such an act of kindness for her, and she makes sure the two of you know it.

The only thing is, those one of a kind boots aren't the sole surprise of the day. And the next one shocks you too.

Later that evening, as Alexia is in Anaís' room reading her a bedtime story and you do your skincare in the ensuite, something catches your eye in the back corner of the cupboard when you go to get your cleanser. It's a box you haven't paid any mind to since the first round of IVF for the second baby, as it had unfairly gotten your hopes up. But now it piques your interest too much, and whilst Alexia is busy elsewhere, you decide to do it.

You're not expecting anything, having been let down too many times, and that's why you scream so loud.

"Oh my fucking god!"

About half a millisecond later, Alexia comes running in with a disgruntled and half-asleep Anaís in her arms.

"What's wrong!?" She asks desperately, noticing your trembling shoulders as you faced away from her and your teary eyes in the mirror.

Slowly, you turn around, another hCG test in you hand.

"This s-says twenty-six, Ale." You stutter, your free hand coming up to cover your mouth.

The pair of you stare at each other in disbelief, eyes wide and jaws to the floor. You're probably an image to behold, with two under-eye masks on and spot cream dotted around your face, and Anaís in Alexia's hold looks less than pleased at the events that have occurred with her wild bed-head.

"It says what?!" Alexia cries out, breaking the stand-off and coming over to you so she can catch a look at it. "It does say twenty-six!"

"Ale..." You breathe out, looking up into her eyes and shaking your head. "I'm not falling for this again."

"Amor, don't start stressing. Let's take this as a good thing for now, and we will go to our appointment tomorrow like normal. Okay? Don't stress, please, this is a very good sign." Alexia reasurres you, wrapping an arm around you and rubbing your shoulder comfortingly. Anaís still has no clue what's going on, but she sleepily puts an arm around your neck too, always one for a family hug.

"Last time though, it gave us a good score and it ended up being nothing." You sighed, closing your eyes in her hold.

"But last time wasn't as high as this. This is much better, this is an amazing sign. The only thing we can do is wait to see the nurse tomorrow, okay?" You nod reluctantly, sighing in frustration and pulling away. "Is it alright if I go put Anaís to sleep? Or do you want her to stay with us for a bit?"

You look at your daughter in Alexia's arms and instantly make a decision; you could never deny cuddles with her.

"Take her to bed with us."

For a little while, the three of you cuddle closely together in your bed, a film of Anaís' choice playing on TV even though she had fallen asleep less than ten minutes into it. Once it had finished, Alexia went to put her in her own bed before coming straight back to you. You try to settle into sleep, but it evades you due to your clouded mind, and Alexia notices. She spends an unknown amount of time reasurring you, also talking about everything and nothing to sooth you, until you eventually do fall asleep. It takes a while for her to get to sleep too, but she does with a smile on her face.

And she was right to have that smile, because the next day at your already scheduled blood test with the nurse, it's confirmed that you are pregnant. The relief is overwhelming, because it's not just the fact that you are finally pregnant, it also erases all the doubt and guilt and whatnot from the past eight months, finally clearing your head from it all. It's a huge weight off of your shoulders, and an almost equally large on off of Alexia's because the heartbreak she felt everytime, not only when a transfer failed, but when you loathed yourself after each one was so heavy, it nearly broke her in two. But here you were, healthy and happier than ever with a baby growing and a smile on your face.

Being able to tell family and friends a little while after was an incredible experience, somehow even better than telling them about Anaís, because they all knew the struggles of the past months and how difficult it had been for you and Alexia. Your favourite part though was telling Anaís, even if it was a little anti-climatic, because she simply shrugged and said 'about time' before asking to go to the park.

There was one little worry. Not a problem with your health or the baby, but with Anaís. Because she was so excited about having a sibling, except she often would say...

"It better not be a boy." She would huff grumpily, and she would say it unprompted too whilst doing things like drawing a family picture and adding a baby to the tummy of your stick figure or as she played with her dolls.

And it was certainly a worry because the baby did end up being a boy. It was yours and Alexia's plan to tell Anaís the gender on her birthday, but after finding out it was a boy, that didn't seem like such a great plan. Out of fear of possibly ruining her birthday, you told her the day after, and it went much better than you expected.

"Will he play dolls with me? And like stickers? And like drawing?" She had asked after a few moments of silence.

"He probably will, yes." You responded.

"He might even like football too." Alexia grinned, and Anaís easily matched her with a cheeky smile of her own as you rolled your eyes.

"I guess that's okay then."

As you months rolled on and you moved from trimester to trimester, Anaís fell more and more in love with her little brother. She loved talking about him, as well as talking to him whenever she was given a chance, her hands moving around your bump to feel his little kicks. With each one-sided conversation she had, she would end it with a kiss and a whisper of 'hurry up, chico!'

Your hormones had kicked in a little stronger this pregnancy, because every time Anaís would interact with your bump, your reaction would range from a lump in your throat, to full on tears. Alexia loved it, teasing you every so often, but she quickly figured out her limits after your tears of joy at Anaís soon turned into tears of pain when the baby dealt you a hard kick to the ribs. The Spaniard's face immediately paled when you screamed at her so furiously, it sent Anaís running for the hills through the house. Thankfully, the next day, the little girl forgot all about the night's events, until one day a while later she brought it up in front of her Tía Alba, and your face turned red with embarrassment.

Your little boy decided to bring himself into the world a tad early in September that year, with a bit of a longer labour and more complicated birth. But, in the end, her arrived safely and healthily, and the same went for you. Alexia had sat there, biting her nails anxiously as the doctors did their checks, but they ultimately gave you the all-clear and the nausea left her stomach.

"We still don't have a name." You huffed tiredly when Alexia took him from one of the nurses and brought him over to you.

"That's okay. We will figure it out. For now, just look at his cute face." Alexia smiled brightly, sitting beside you carefully and showing him off.

"He is cute." You sighed contently, resting your head on her shoulder. This birth had thoroughly taken it out of you, and it was a miracle you were able to keep your eyes open.

"He is chubby." Alexia hummed, and she winced when you lightly slapped her hip.

"Be nice to him." You scolded her, but Alexia was just glad to see the smile on your face that you failed to fight back.

"I am being nice, he just has very big cheeks." Alexia defended herself, raising a hand to lightly run the back of her finger along his cheek, a gesture you remember her doing for Anaís.

He was clearly much more fed up with the day then Anaís was when she was born, because he was already fast asleep. His little mouth was open, and sometimes when he fidgeted in his sleep, his tongue would poke out momentarily. Alexia laughed quietly whenever he did as you watched them both, already absolutely infatuated with the sight.

"I can't wait for Anaís to meet him." Alexia stated, and you nodded in agreement. "Can we ring her? Or do you want to rest some more?"

"No, let's ring her. I miss her."

For obvious reasons, it had been over a day since you'd last seen Anaís, the longest you'd gone without being with her. Alexia passed your son over to you and got her phone out of her pocket, going onto it and getting up her Mami's contact.

"You're sure?" She checked, and you nodded.

Within three rings, Eli answered the FaceTime call, and before she could even speak, Anaís' face took over the whole screen.

"Is he here yet, Mami?" She asked quietly, and Alexia couldn't resist.

"No, not yet, I'm sorry chiqui."

"Ale! Don't be mean, tell her."

As soon as Anaís heard your voice, she gasped excitedly, hoping she had correctly interpreted your words.

"He is here?"

"He is. There he is." Alexia turned the camera so that you and the baby were in view for Anaís to see, and her face was adorable.

"Oh my... he is so cute." She whispered, noticing he was asleep and speaking as quietly as she could. "I love him."

"You do?" Alexia said, her heart filled with more love than she ever thought possible.

"I really love him." Anaís smiled brightly. "Is Mama okay?"

"Yes, I'm okay, thank you mi niña. I am very, very tired, but I'm alright." You told her, and she nodded, glad to hear it.

"Does he have a name?" You shook your head and saw her eyes light up. "I have a name!"

"Go on." Alexia prompted her, not really expecting anything that could be a good suggestion.

"Oriol!" Anaís said proudly.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, wondering where on earth she got that from, but happy with it nonetheless. It was already on the name list you and Alexia had, and it was actually one of your favourites. But the pair of you just couldn't choose, so you decided to shortlist a few and to wait and see until he is born. Oriol was indeed a name on the shortlist.

"Yes, that is a good name." You nodded, looking at Alexia to see what she thought.

"I really like that name, well done chiqui." Alexia replied, and the pair of you share a glance.

Speaking with Anaís for a little longer, you both notice her getting progressively more tired as it got closer to her bedtime. With the promise that she can visit tomorrow, you say goodbye to her and let her take one final look at her brother before she goes to the room she was staying in at Eli's. You stay on the phone with Eli for a few moments, smiling at all the praise she offers you, before she bids you both farewell and hangs up.

"So..." Alexia started, looking down at your son. "I think we have a solution to our problem?"

You look down at him too, knowing what Alexia was talking about, and nod.

"I think we do."

When Anaís visits the next day, she hugs you and Alexia tightly first, having missed her two favourite people in the world for the short time she was away. Then, Alexia gets the baby out of the hospital cot and shows him to her, and she's fascinated by him. She quickly has a moment of overwhelming excitement, and she jumps around on the spot away from him so that she can, in her own words, 'get it all out' before she holds him.

Sitting on the chair beside your bed, pillows scattered around her, Alexia carefully places him in her arms that hold him securely. Unsurprising to you, you immediately well up at the sight, wanting to burn the image into your mind forever. She makes sure she holds him properly, asking Alexia every so often if she's doing it right, before she leans down and kisses his hat-covered head softly. Alexia shows her a special 'trick', where she offers her finger out to the baby and Anaís gasps quietly when he wraps his hand around Alexia's finger. The moment only forces more tears out of you, and Alexia looks up at you and flashes you a teasing smile. Her attention is drawn away from you not a second later when Anaís asks something.

"Does he have a name yet?"

Just like last night, you and Alexia share a glance, before you turn back to Anaís.

"His name is Oriol."

[sincerelybubbles]

pairing: spencer reid x reader

word count: 603

warnings: angst :(

it wasn't meant to be this way.

when you and spencer started dating, the honeymoon phase dripped into day-to-day life and activities, an easy transition that left you comfortable, happy, and (as you're now noticing) incredibly vulnerable.

"you can't act like my job, my life and hobbies and interests, are less important than what you do," you say, voice wet with tears.

spencer, frustrated, drags his hands through his hair, making it stand up straight, "my job objectively is!" he counters, loud, annoyed.

"sure, i'll give you that. whatever, that's not the point and you know it."

"i don't! i don't know the point because you don't have one. you just don't want to end the argument and not be right. you're impossible."

"this! this is the point," you say, gesturing between the two of you. you're both upset: you're on the verge of tears, he's disheveled from pacing and messing with his hair.

and still, you love him. you sort of hate that you do - he's being a dick, he can't see how he's hurting you, and he won't make any effort to see your side of the argument. but you love him, so much that your belly hurts with it.

"you don't listen when i come to you with things that are bothering me," you say, reaching forward to grab his arm as if the physical contact might make your point come across better. you can see in his face that he's gearing up to say something else and interrupt him before he can say anything. "all i said was that i didn't feel like you prioritized me and my life and you're the one who made it into work and hobbies.

"i can't sit here and constantly feel inferior. i know your job is important, i know you're saving lives. i don't say anything when i don't see you for weeks at a time, i don't say anything when you have to leave the second the phone rings, and i certainly haven't ever said anything to indicate that i think I'm somehow more important than all of that.

"all i'm asking is that you don't make me sit here and wonder why you're suddenly not making the effort you've had no problem making for the past 3 years and i'm begging you to stop making me feel like i'm crazy when i come to you with this shit!"

"maybe you feel crazy because you're acting crazy, blowing something up into nothing," spencer says, shaking his head at you. he tugs his arm away, taking a step back. "i'm done with this. i can't, i'm too busy to deal with you right now."

"deal with me?" you ask, anger flashing hot in your chest and racing away any tears that might have been ready to fall. "i'm not an item to check off of your to-do list, spencer."

"i can't do this right now," he sighs, turning away and pushing his hands through his hair one last time. he hesitates, back to you and head hung low, before adjusting his watch and walking away.

stunned, you listen as your front door opens and then clicks shut. you wait for him to come back, transform into your sweet boyfriend who would do anything to make sure you're happy. the doting man who spent his time memorizing everything about you so every date would be perfect, who always made time for you despite his job, who made you feel heard and important.

but you stand there, alone, for several minutes without any sign of him. mind racing, you fight the urge to cry.

damn wtf i made myself sad. sorry! hope u enjoyed :)

[erodasfishtacos]

Somethin’ Unholy (sexclubowner!hxengaged!yn)

prompt: YN and Arthur have to adjust their arrangement. The first scene leaves YN hopeless and wondering if she should even come back to the club.

word count: 9.7k+

warnings: emotional infidelity (kinda, it’s complicated), d/s dynamics, mean Harry

author’s note: next part is posted on patreon & continuing to be updated this week💕 this is the last part that will be posted on tumblr.

to get access to the rest of this trope as well as 350+ other exclusive writings - you can join for $3USD! -> HERE <-

PART ONEk

+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•+•

YN isn’t above this.

Actually, this is exactly where she wants to be.

Her arms are akin to jello as she slowly starts to move across the floor, the hardwood was rough on her knees, and she had to complain.

YN sits back on her heels, eyes sparkling and challenging, she was going to make Harry prove himself as a good dominant.

Harry raises an eyebrow, questioning but unmoving from where he stands.

“Hurts my knees, sir,” YN tells him, the ‘sir’ was patronizing and not obedient in the way it was intended to be used when he demanded it from her.

“The funny thing is…” Harry tilts his head, eyes tracing over every inch of her, “I didn’t fucking ask if it hurt. Crawl to me now.”

YN huffs, putting her palms flat again and moving towards him.

“Slower. Move slower. I really want you to feel that ache you were bitching about in your knees,” Harry tells her, his voice was so calm and monotone that it was making her want to get him mad.

YN does as he says but to the extreme, going so entirely slow that she’s barely moving any bit forward.

Her face is towards the floor and suddenly, there is a pair of leather boots in her line of vision, standing in front of her.

A hand weaves into her hair, twirling the strands between slender fingers, and pulling upwards without mercy.

YN lets out a high-pitched squeak at the pain prickling on her scalp, forcing her neck to tilt upwards to look at Harry who’s now squatting in front of her.

“Is that too rough?” Arthur echos from behind her.

YN shouldn’t feel annoyance, this is a learning experience for both of them but she wants him to just sit there quietly.

The way Harry looks up towards Arthur was downright terrifying.

A sharp, mean smile spreads wide enough on Harry’s face that his dimples pop in both of his cheeks, and then he tugs her hair until her head is turned a an uncomfortable angle, looking towards her fiancé.

“S’it too rough for the lil’ angel?” Harry asks in a mocking tone, his grip hasn’t relented and YN had missed this type of pain so much she could cry.

“N-no, it’s good,” YN manages to get out between clenched teeth before focusing her eyes back on Harry.

She didn’t want to remember that Arthur was here.

“It’s good, sir,” Harry lets his blunt fingernails tease at her scalp, “You’re being so awful already. It’s making it hard for me to want to play with you.”

If YN wasn’t in a headspace like this, she could logically identify that he was saying this to get under her skin, making her insecure.

But because her rational thinking isn’t as present as it normally is, it makes her chest ache, and her voice sounds small when she says, “I’ll be good, sir.”

Harry’s laugh is loud enough that she jumps, his hand loosens and unweaves from her hair as she blinks up at him.

He was ethereal under the dim light, all of his sharp features were defined, like they were from renaissance times, and he’d be unreal but YN was witnessing him with her own eyes.

“Did that spark a nerve, pet?” He teases as he stands up, leaving her on hands and knees.

YN only folds her lips inward, refusing to give him an answer because she wanted to get the biggest reaction possibly out of him.

When he realizes that she’s not going to reply, he runs his tongue over his teeth, “Right now, I wish you were really my sub. This would end so fuckin’ poorly for such a defiant slut.”

“Whoa, I don’t know if you should call her that,” Arthur interrupts with an affronted tone, like he’s trying to stand up for YN.

YN feels the irritation of his interrupting itching at the back of her teeth, she wanted him to just sit there and stop.

YN doesn’t realize that she lets out a spoiled noise of impatience, of annoyance at her fiancé.

It causes Harry to take a step forward, lightly pressing the bottom sole of his shoe on her splayed fingers, warning.

“This is a learning experience,” Harry scolds her, pressing down just enough to add pressure on her knuckles, “ He’s allowed to ask questions and voice limits. If you have an issue with that, there is no purpose to this session. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” YN replies quietly because she did not want this session to end.

It had only just begun and she felt such a spark that had never been there before.

This was visceral, different than any experience that she had had with Klein before they broke up.

The atmosphere, the way that Harry held himself with such knowledge and confidence was unmatched.

“Good girl,” Harry murmurs lowly, almost as if he didn’t want Arthur to hear, and he moves his boot away from her fingers.

The praise felt fucking addictive.

She wanted more of it.

But at the same time, she wanted to create mayhem too.

“Is that a limit for you? Yellow?” Harry asks Arthur, checking in like a responsible dom would do during a lesson.

YN hated that it took his attention away from her.

“Er, not necessarily. I’m…this is all just new. I didn’t know whether she liked being called that or not is all,” Arthur trails off unsurely but he doesn’t sound like he’s distressed, he definitely is a mixture of curiosity and arousal.

He liked this.

“Arthur,” Harry replies in a conversational tone, he nudges his foot against YN to signal her to stand up, “You will learn that it doesn’t matter what YN likes because she likes to be disobedient and insubordinate. It only matters if she uses her colors. If she doesn’t like something enough to stop, she will either use ‘yellow’ or ‘red’.”

YN stands, feeling awkward in how overdressed she is as Harry provides education to her fiance, this was such a weird situation, and she wanted Arthur to stop bringing her out of her floaty headspace.

“Right, slut?” Harry smirks wickedly, he stands with his hands behind his back, and pointedly not trying to touch her in any way.

She could tell that in this weird dynamic, Harry was trying to be respectful that he was instructing and not taking ownership of her as her dominant, despite her body screaming at him that that is exactly what she wants from him.

“Yes,” YN agrees, purposely leaving out the ‘sir’.

The smile drops from his face, he had thought he’d broken her, and it wasn’t that easy by just some hair-pulling and name-calling, it would take so much more, and he would learn her threshold for pain tolerances is high.

Harry’s lips press into a firm line and he steps forward, grip firm on her wrist as he jerks her forward, making her stumble into his chest, and he whispers into her ear, “God, if you were mine you would be broken.”

It was only loud enough for YN to hear.

But he takes a step back, letting go of her wrist, and an odd emotion she can’t read crosses his face before he announces to them both, “This is an instructional session as I’ve stated before. That was an example of power play but now I will move onto the next portion of learning.”

And something has switched, YN doesn’t know how to put her finger on it but Harry had suddenly become more formal with her.

More of a teacher, less of a dominant like how he was acting in the beginning.

She wanted the latter to come back out, a hollowness started in her chest when he walked away from her to sit down on a tufted leather bench, and a completely uninterested expression on his face.

“Strip down to your bra and underwear,” Harry replies in almost a robotic tone, none of the teasing and lift was there anymore.

YN is shaky as she rids herself off her trousers, the structured corset bodysuit she had put on, and she was down to her strapless bra and seamless thong.

YN wasn’t self-conscious, she loved her body and was proud to show it off but there was something about Harry’s demeanor that made an inkling of self-doubt creep in as she stood in the middle of the room where he had left him.

When she subconsciously goes to wrap her arm around her chest, as if to give herself any type of modesty, Harry clicks his tongue at her and shakes her head.

Without having to speak, YN puts her arm back down at her side and takes a deep breath, shaky on the exhale.

“Ask to come lay on my lap,” Harry tells her calmly, his legs spread enough to be obscene, a hand resting suggestively on his inner thigh, much too close to his groin to be appropriate in any other setting.

“May I come sit on your lap, sir,” YN repeats as steadily as possible, she wanted to be good, and she wanted to earn his interest back.

Harry is surprised by her compliance, definitely not expecting her to follow his instructions without a fight.

“Come here, now,” His voice is tighter, lip between his teeth as he watches her carefully.

“Ho-how, sir?” YN swallows because she doesn’t want to get scolded again.

“How do you walk? That's a silly question, are you a dumb pup?” Harry asks as if she just asked the most outlandish question ever, “Walk with your two feet unless that’s too much brainpower for you, pet.”

“YN,” Arthur speaks from behind her, still sitting but YN’s back is turned to him.

She knows she should look, this is a lesson for them, to learn how to do this, to model the play, to communicate better.

She knows they’re here as a couple and Harry is simply an instructor.

But she doesn't want to turn to look at him.

YN keeps her eyes on Harry, in an almost pleading to have him help, to speak to Arthur for her because her fiance kept dragging her out of the fuzzy headspace she was desperately trying to sink into.

Harry doesn’t let anything show if he’s annoyed by Arthur.

He probably isn’t because this is a lesson for him, he isn’t really playing.

YN was and that was the issue.

“Yea-yeah?” YN manages to reply after blinking a few times, almost like snapping out of a trance, and she turns to make eye contact with her partner.

Arthur was visibly flushed, his hand was strategically placed over his lap to hide what YN is guessing is evidence that this situation is turning him on, even though he doesn’t need to hide that because that’s mostly the point of all this.

“Is…Um, color? I just didn’t know you liked being talked to that way or…ordered around like that…” Arthur still doesn’t sound upset or necessarily bothered by the revelation, just maybe a bit surprised.

“Green. I like it,” YN nods because she wants to snap at him, tell him that she’s been trying to communicate that she likes this for ages and he hasn’t caught on whatsoever, but she doesn’t want to ruin the scene so she simplifies it down to that.

“Ask him his color,” Harry reminds her from behind, “You need to check in with him too.”

I don’t want to check-in with him.

“What’s your color?” YN tries to keep interests in her tone but these interactions with Arthur are taking any semblance of an actual scene out of her mind which she knows that wasn’t the goal but she had made it her own at some point when this started.

“Green. You look amazing right now and I -,” Arthur smiles so sweetly at her, genuine and honest.

It makes her feel guilty.

YN was pretty sure in this moment that Arthur would never have the ability to be mean to her in the way she needs, in the way that Harry can provide, and that leaves her with a sinking feeling.

“Get your ass over here now,” Harry cuts Arthur off mid-sentence, irritation finally settling in on his features.

YN walks as gracefully as she can over to him, standing between his spread legs, and he reaches out to run his fingertips over the curve of her hip.

It’s surprisingly gentle until he pinches her, enough to sting, and says, “Kneel.”

YN obliges, her knees were already going to be bruised from the hardfloor beneath her but by this point, she was welcoming the aches that were going to last for days after, to remind her of Harry.

“Let’s keep simple today, shall we?” Harry asks her as he runs his open palm across her collarbone, getting closer to her chest.

Right now, she’s blatantly aware that they haven’t done anything inherently sexual which she be lying if she said that it’s not clawing at the pits of arousal in her stomach.

YN doesn’t know if she’s ever been as attracted to someone sexually as she was with Harry.

She knew these instructional sessions weren’t for his pleasure but fuck, she wishes that she got to see him in action - real, in scene action, not this only sliver of what he actually has to offer.

YN nods in response to him, trying to be on her best behavior because her disobedience really hadn’t made him more prone to play with her further than teaching.

“Open,” Harry commands as he withdraws his fingers, thumb now moving to tug on her bottom lip sharply as she complies. As soon as it was, he pressed down on her tongue, with enough pressure that she had to swallow harshly not to gag.

Harry laughs as he watches her, never taking his eyes off of her, “You can’t even handle my thumb but you want to have the attitude of a girl who can take me all the way down their throat.”

YN can’t speak, can’t tell him that she can and she can show him.

Instead, her brattiness that she’d been trying to tamper down flares right back up as she sinks her teeth into the skin of his hand in a clear way to convey she didn’t like what he had just said.

It takes Harry by surprise, his features twitching just the slightest before he’s steadying them again, and pushes down further on her tongue until she actually does gag. Before he’s pulling his spit-soaked thumb out and dragging it across her cheek, surely smearing the meticulously applied foundation and bronzer.

There’s a conflict, YN can tell Harry is debating on what his next course of action is and he seems to be arguing with himself internally before he’s gripping her jaw and making their eyes meet.

“Cut the brat shit. I’m not your dom, this is a lesson. Stop getting so far into it. Save it for your fiance,” Harry’s voice is cold, mean but not in a teasing way, almost a dismissive way and it doesn’t feel like they’re playing anymore.

It seems like he’s actually scolding her even though she sure he probably just thinks he’s giving her a reminder so that there’s no hard feelings between her and Arthur after this but it felt like a knife in her chest.

YN feels any of the feistiness leave her body, it would probably be a responsible time to use her colors, and let him know that she’s bordering on ‘yellow’ because she realizes she’s misinterpreting this whole scene.

He was never going to get into the full headspace with her.

Of course, he wasn’t.

This was fully for teaching.

And YN was trying to fall into her subspace that she would with her actual dom.

But the text messages, in particular, made her confused.

Why would he have goaded her over text like that?

“Let’s get this over with,” Harry presses his tongue to his cheek, looking frustrated as he signals for YN to stand right back up.

“Alright, I’m going to demonstrate how to properly spank. We’ll do five, alright?” Harry tells her as he reaches for her wrist, tugging her until he can position her over his lap, face-down.

But you said fifteen in the text.

Harry is now talking to Arthur directly as he lands the smacks, informing him on the proper amount of pressure, placement, repetition, and timing that all make a difference to how the scene goes.

YN can’t even focus on the words, her fingertips gripping at the leather bench in front of her, and the hits weren’t hard, they barely stung but she felt disappointment at this whole experience sink into her bones.

After the five, Harry pulls her into a sitting position next to him before standing up.

“No comment then? Want to be a brat the whole time but when you actually get a spanking, you’re dead silent?” Harry questions, hands on his hips, and he just overall seemed…unhappy.

“I wouldn’t call that a spanking,” YN scoffs in annoyance but it no longer had any playfulness in it, “Is this scene done? I’m ready to go.”

Arthur is oblivious to the intense tension between the two, standing up and straightening out his trousers, wiping the legs off, and smiling widely, “That was pretty awesome. I liked it more than I thought.”

YN embarrassingly enough feels like crying.

“Arthur,” Harry’s eyes haven’t left YN’s, “Can you leave YN and I for a second? To discuss before you head out.”

“Absolutely, I’ll be at the bar,” Arthur agrees easily, trusting as he excuses himself from the room with a kiss to YN’s cheek.

YN moves to pick up her clothes, bunching them in her arms, and refusing to acknowledge Harry’s existence as she lays them out of the bench to try to organize them in order to put them back on.

“Look at me.”

YN refuses, shaking her head, and clutching her shirt in her fist.

She felt embarrassed, let down, disappointed.

YN doesn’t hear Harry move but jumps when his hand snakes around her waist, physically turning her around to face him, and god, why the fuck are there tears streaming down her face right now?

“Why are you crying?” Harry asks bluntly, his hand leaves her hip and that makes the tears fall harder.

She’s crying over a fucking stranger who sent her a few flirty messages.

“It doesn’t matter,” YN tries to keep her gaze on her feet but the finger under her chin doesn’t allow it.

“It does matter,” Harry argues, exasperation through each word.

“I…It just wasn’t what I expected,” YN replies honestly because Harry can see straight through her lies anyways, “I’m just disappointed but that’s on me for my expectations, it’s not your nor Arthur’s fault.”

“What were your expectations?” Harry seems hesitant to ask like they both know that the honest answer isn’t appropriate for YN being in a relationship, engaged to be married type of commitment.

YN squeezes her eyes shut, the words are stuck in her throat until his hand comes back to her hip, very cautiously rubbing a circle on her hip, “I…I know you made it very clear that this was instructional. It’s not your fault for my expectations. I just….wanted….I just wanted a scene with you. A real scene.”

“You should want that with your fiance,” Harry sighs as watches her, voice low, “You should want to do a scene with him, not me.”

“I get that you don’t want that with me, that’s okay-”

“I didn’t fucking say that, did I?” Harry cuts her off, a defensiveness that she hadn’t heard before in his tone, his thumb pressing in a bit harder to her hip, pressing against the bone and purposefully.

“It seemed like there were a few moments in the scene where you were into it but then…you went back to…” YN trails off because she doesn’t know the best way to put it into words.

“I went back to teaching because I shouldn’t have let myself get like that in the first place,” Harry bites out, his lip twitching as it furls downward, “It was unprofessional. This was strictly educational.”

“Do you often get lost for a moment in the scene when you’re doing instruction?” YN asks timidly, unsure of whether she wants to know the answer and if she’s trying to make this more special than it was to him.

“Never has happened before,” Harry tells her, his gaze unfaltering, “I’ve never struggled not to fall into an instructional scene before tonight.”

“This isn’t in my head,” YN swallows, feeling a bit braver in what she believes, “There is…a compatibility between the two of this. In this setting.”

“Be that as it may, it doesn’t matter,” Harry’s words are tight, strained, “You are in a relationship, working on these issues between the two of you. So that Arthur can provide you with what you want.”

“Tell me honestly, sir,” YN lets the name roll off her tongue thickly, smiling to herself when his hand squeezes at her again, pressing and pressing into her skin, “Do you think that Arthur will be able to tame me? You can’t even do it.”

Finally, that familiar wicked smile spread over his tense features, his eyes twinkling under the dim light.

Because just like her, he loves a challenge.

“I could break you, over and over,” Harry steps further into her space, she was suddenly very aware of how undressed she was in comparison to him, “Make you into the sweetest little sub that I would never get sick of using.”

“That-that doesn’t answer my question,” YN’s breath was picking up, he could tell, and he moves to cup the side of her neck, thumb laying over her pulse point.

“The question of whether Arthur will be able to learn how to handle you? In the way you need?” Harry clarifies as his eyes dart down to watch the way his fingertips dimple the skin underneath them.

YN nods.

“You and I both know the answer to that,” Harry scoffs with a shake of his head, the smiling fading a bit, “No, I do not think your fiance will be able to give you what you need. He doesn’t seem like the type to suddenly be able to dom.”

YN wants to kiss him, drop her kneels in front of him, beg him for anything he’s willing to give her.

And yet, she’s engaged.

The ring had never felt good on her finger but right now, it felt like a fucking trapped life sentence.

Harry moves to take a step back which has YN reaching out to grip her wrist, “Please.”

He lets her hold him but sighs, “We probably shouldn’t do another lesson together. I don’t think that I can do another scene with you acting like such a fuckin’….a brat and try to keep it as a learning experience. I can set you two up with another instructor-”

“Why didn’t you set us up with a different instructor in the first place?” YN throws the question at him, “Raven said you didn’t play here anymore or teach. But you-”

“You know why,” Harry cuts her off, not willing to lay it out any clearer for her, “You know why and I can admit it was a bad idea. I should have thought it through and I shouldn’t have offered myself.”

“It’s because you want me,” YN lets a smile creep onto her face, arrogance filtering throug her veins and she takes his hand, bringing it to her hip once again, “You wanted to play with me. You wanted a chance-”

“And I shouldn’t have given into it,” Harry won’t let her finish a sentence, “I know from your paperwork that you aren’t in an open relationship. You need to go the fuck out there to your fiance and forget about this.”

YN doesn’t like that answer.

Of course she doesn’t.

But he’s absolutely right.

What she was doing was borderline cheating, by just engaging in their conversations that she wouldn’t have had if Arthur was in the room with them.

YN had never once thought about cheating on Arthur or any of her partner’s in the past.

She judged people who cheated on their signficant others.

And now all she can think about is how much she wants Harry.

She was royally fucked and she knows it.

“Fine,” YN bites back, her guard completely up and she turns her back to him.

She can sense his hesitation before he’s cursing under his breathe and slamming the door on his way out.

++

They don’t talk about the lesson.

Not on the way home, not before bed, not the next day.

Arthur doesn’t try to initiate any type of power play when they have sex that night when they get home from playing.

YN doesn’t see a world where they’re going to go back to The Body Factory because the lack of interest from Arthur about domming was blatantly obvious in his actions following their arrival home.

YN notices Arthur being much more distant after that night, just for the following few days as he was much more quiet, reserved than he normally was, and overall seemed lost in his thoughts.

She starts to worry that this all was just such a poor idea, for both of them.

“What is going on?” YN finally asks one night while they sit at the dinner table, across from each other in silence leading up to this, “You’ve barely spoken to me all week. If it’s about what happened on Saturday night, just say it.”

Arthur puts down his fork and knife, wiping his mouth with his napkine before sighing, “I’m sorry, sweetie pie. There’s just been…a lot on my mind and a lot to process after this weekend.”

“You could have just talked to me about it. I thought we were supposed to have positive communication about all of this while we figured it out,” YN lets her fork clatter loudly, showing her irritation but to be fair, she was much more on edge later than normal.

“You’re right,” Arthur agrees, his expression is soft and apologetic like it always was, never wanting to argue, “I…I needed to figure some things out for myself and kind of…process. I worry that I’m going to upset you with what I want to talk about and I guess I was just trying to find the right time.”

YN braces herself for what she knows is coming, they’re not going back to that club, she’ll never see Harry again.

“Just say it, Arthur,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her eyes and she knows her shoulders have slumped slightly.

There’s a pause.

“I dont think I can be what you need, in terms of dominant,” Arthur’s voice is cautious, “But I discovered that I, uh, I liked watching you with Harry. Like….I really enjoyed it and have been thinking about it a lot.”

YN’s eyebrows raise to the ceiling.

That was not how she expected this conversation to go.

++

Harry asks YN and Arthur to come into the club on a weekday night to discuss what they are asking from him.

They weren’t able to get a hold of them and the secretary was able to set up an appointment to talk about their membership.

YN and Arthur are sat in his office, dark with the green undertones accented throughout the room, matte and deep oak wood.

The door opens behind them, YN feels herself tense and Arthur must feel it too because he gives her a reassuring squeeze on the hand he’s holding of hers.

“If you’re here to cancel your membership, you’re still charge for the entirety of the year. You already signed a contractual agreement,” Harry’s voice is disinterested, dull as he rounds his desk and sits down in front of them.

“No, that’s not why we asked for a meeting,” Arthur is a bit flustered, eyes darting away like he can’t quite look directly at Harry.

“I’m not interested in doing instructional sessions. It wasn’t a good match and I offered you other educators we have here.”

YN feels like it’s purposeful that Harry hasn’t made eye contact with her once when he typical couldn’t take his gaze off of her.

Arthur’s hand is clammy on hers, making her want to pull away but she was in all honesty feeling the nerves of this meeting too.

She didn’t know how she would handle a rejection from Harry.

Even though she knew there was a much higher likelihood that he would reject the proposition than accept.

Raven had given Arthur a bit of information last weekend when YN and Harry were along in in play room still.

She had told Arthur that Harry hadn’t had a sub in the eight years that he hadn’t played at his own club.

Raven wouldn’t disclose what happened that made him stop partcipating and only faciliating, as it obvious didn’t take his interest out of this world or his ability to be a good dominate.

This was a shot in the dark.

”I am busy. Let’s speed this up,” Harry makes a point of glancing down at the very-expensive looking gold watch on his wrist as if he has a meeting with the queen after this.

”Of course, my apologizes,” Arthur instantly responds, submissive without even realizing it, something that makes YN’s skin crawl, “After the instructional session last week. My fiancée and I discussed our thoughts and where we wanted to go from there.”

Harry just blinks at him, heavily like he’s losing interest.

”And er, I definitely realized that I don’t have the capacity to be what YN needs in that aspect nor is it really my interest. However, seeing YN act like….”

”A spoiled brat?” Harry fills in, running his tongue over the front of his teeth.

He was so intimidating, just by the way he held himself, shoulders broad, head held high to show off the defineition of his jawline, and his faux calm demeanor like nothing in this world bothers him.

Artuhur chuckles, squeezing YN’s hand again, “I was going to say that she was acting so differently, free, and yes, bratty. It was unlike anything I’ve seen from her before and I do not want to be the one to dull that light for her. However, I still want to experience it with her…from more of a onlooker perspective like last week.”

Again, cue a twitch of guilt because Arthur was a good guy and he cared about YN very much but it didn’t stop her from the craving for something from Harry as it should.

”There are plenty of open doms here or doms that will have more than one sub at a time,” Harry’s teeth are gritted now, it was subtle but YN notices that way his fingers are gripping a pen in his hand.

”That’s not what YN is interested in,” Arthur’s has seemed to calm down a little bit, his voice more conversational, “We talked about it extensively and the reason we are here is because we would specifically like you to consider being YN’s dominant. It’s something we’ve both discussed and both feel comfortable with. If it is something that you would think about.”

Harry cannot hide the surprise, his eyebrow raises before he’s steeling his expression again, giving Arthur a bored blink, and he doesn’t respond right away.

YN just wants him to fucking look at her.

“You put clearly in your paperwork that you are not interested in other partners,” Harry settles on stating after leaning back in his chair, hand dragging through his curls.

”Well, I discovered uh…” Arthur starts to become flush.

”It’s fine, Art,” YN finally says, patting his knee, “Everyone has something there. This is literally the place for it. What you like isn’t unusual.”

“I like watching YN with someone else,” Arthur admits, looking down at his hands and trying not to become even more embarrassed, “And I feel comfortable with her being with you. I trust that you would take good care of her but also give her what I cannot.”

Harry narrows his eyes, “You realize what you saw this past weekend was nothing in comparison to what actual scenes look like, right? You’re agreeing that you're open to me doing whatever I please with her, break her, and it won’t be pretty much of the time. At least to the outside onlooker…”

”I know, I’ve done my research recently,” Arthur nods, he starts twisting his wrists between his other fingers as he always did in an anxious habit.

”I cannot give you an answer tonight. It’s something that I will have to think about,” Harry decides, sitting up straighter and tugging at his suit jacket to adjust it.

”Are you going to even acknowledge my existence tonight?” YN blurts out because she cannot take it anymore, he won’t even make eye contact with her, and she knows it's purposeful.

“Did the kitty need attention? Can’t go a minute without it, huh?” Harry chuckles as he slowly rolls his gaze over to her, eyes finally glancing up and down her body before meeting her stare once again.

YN bites her lip, refusing to give into his teasing if this isn’t going to have the end result she wants because the fire building in her belly is already back with a vengeance.

“I just think you’re being rude,” YN shrugs defiantly, crossing her leg over the other and bouncing it like she was impatient to leave, giving him a reminder that he does want to play with her - he’s said it himself.

That fucking smile spreads on his face.

The one when he’s challenged and he knows he’s going to win.

”I think you’re being a greedy slut but I wasn’t going to say anything,” Harry’s voice sounds curiously fond, enamored by her, and it makes her preen at the unspoken praise of his reaction.

YN scowls but when Arthur touches her bouncing leg, it drags her out of any floatiness that she was going to drift to, and it was probably for the best anyways in this moment.

“I’ll have an answer for you by tomorrow,” Harry tells them, standing up and motioning towards the door, and Arthur thanks him more than once before starting to trail out.

As Arthur starts to head down the hallway, a hand reaches out and wraps around her wrist, stopping her for a moment, and causing her to look back at the person who grabbed it.

Harry’s eyes are back to the intensed, lock-in almost predatory stare.

”Do you think this is a good idea?” Harry asks quietly, so even though her fiancé is oblivious, he doesn’t hear.

”I can’t think of a better one,” YN responds honestly, “If I’m being selfish, yes. This is a good idea.”

“And if you’re actually thinking about your fiancé?” Harry prompts, eyebrow raised and truly questioning her.

”He liked watching,” YN acts like she doesn’t know what the underlying question that he’s asking is, “I think this is a good idea for both of us. We’re adults who are consenting and both talked this through at lengths.”

Harry nods, lip tucked under his teeth, worrying it until it’s puffy.

YN feels a pit of despair at his reaction, it didn’t seem positive, and it doesn’t seem like this is something he will agree to which he has every right to do but the feelings must flash across YN’s face.

”Hey,” Harry’s voice is softer, his thumb comes up to tug at her bottom lip, “Everything will be fine, okay? I’ll reach out tomorrow.”

”Okay,” YN sighs, leaning into his touch more than she hold because it was definetly inappropriate, “Just…please think about it.”

Harry nods, letting her go, and starting to close the door.

YN can’t be one hundred percent certain but she’s nearly confident that she heard Harry mutter something under his breath as he closed the door that sure sounded a lot like…

”Don’t think I’ll ever be able to say no to you. M’fucked.”

++

YN checks her phone all day during work.

Nothing from Harry.

It makes her even more anxious when she gets a text from Arthur saying that Harry reached out to him and would like to meet privately that night.

YN patiently waits for her confirmation of whether he’s on board or not but the text doesn’t come in until after Arthur’s stopped at the club after work and they talked.

YN realizes that it was all very intentional when at right near midnight sends a simple text.

Harry [11:59PM]: After talking to your fiancé, I’ve decided that I will agree to be your dominant. However, that is contingent on how our meeting goes.

Harry [12:00 AM]: When your shift is done tonight, meet me at the club. We will need to have a meeting to establish further boundaries, limits, and expectations.

Harry [12:01 AM]: Understood?

YN is tired and insanely happy which makes her feel rather pliant and sweet.

YN [12:03 AM]: Yes sir.

Harry [12:08 AM]: Good girl for me already? Get some rest, kitty. I will see you tomorrow.

YN sleeps like a fucking baby.

++

The club is surprisingly busy for a Thursday night.

YN’s shift was in the evening and when she walked into the club, there were people playing in the free play area - very much already into their scenes.

YN knew she didn’t look her absolute best.

She had changed out of her scrubs, into a flowy dress that had been easy to throw on, and purposefully forgoing a bra.

YN had taken her hair out of her claw clip, smudged on some tinted lip balm, and swiped on a coat of mascara hurriedly in the hospital locker room before making her way here.

It had been all she could think about all day and now that she’s in the darken, moody atmosphere it was feeling very real.

YN doesn’t see Harry monitoring the free play from his usual spot, in fact, he’s not in the main room at all.

YN decides to go over to the bar, always in the mood for a Shirley temple, reminding her of her childhood a bit.

Raven was there, as always, looking radiant and unbothered as she greets her happily, “Hey! It’s so great to see you again. I wasn’t sure if I was after last week's session. I swear Harry had been in an awful mood after that and it only got better once you and Arthur came in for a meeting.”

That was…interesting.

“Did he say anything?” YN can’t help but ask.

“Uh,” Raven’s eyes dart to the side, shifty and avoidant.

“No, no worries,” YN soothes easily, not meaning to put her on the spot, “It was an experience. It wasn’t what I -“

“Hello there, beautiful,” A deep voice interrupts their conversation, a hand brazenly sliding onto her bare shoulder.

It wasn’t Harry.

The man was attractive, above average but held no light to Harry.

He was muscular, in a way that wasn’t YN’s type.

His muscles were bulging, like they didn’t have enough room until his skin, and he was making it obvious that he was flexing his biceps.

“I just saw you walk in alone. God, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. Your tits are -“ The man begins to compliment.

Raven snaps her fingers, making a motion across her lips to the man to be quiet.

However, someone clears their throat, and all three turn their heads to Harry who was now standing behind them with a displeased frown.

“Hands off of her,” Harry murmurs, his voice is level, non-aggressive but still incredibly domineering that it wasn’t a recommendation.

It was an order.

The man removes his hand like he’d been burned, stepping back, and instantly apologizing the owner, “I-I didn’t know-“

Harry ignores him, glancing at Raven, “From here on out, please inform the guests that my submissive is off-fucking limits. Clear?”

“Yes,” Raven agrees with wide eyes.

The possessiveness as he puts his hand on her lower back was quite possibly the hottest thing that YN had experienced in her life.

The man disappears back into the group but is clearly passing on the message, whispered surprise as Harry guides her towards his office.

YN can hear bits and pieces of hushed conversation.

“What do you mean that’s his submissive?”

“He’s never once done that before. When he used to play, nearly a decade ago, he always shared his submissive.” “He must be down bad for her.”

“I tried to get him for ages to play with me. She’s been here once.”

“Well yeah but look at her.”

That’s all she can gather before they’re out of earshot.

“You’re off limits. They won’t bother you again,” Harry assures her as he guides her into his office, motioning to a seat before walking to his desk.

YN nodded, her heart was pounding, and she had definitely lost a bit of bravery.

Harry opens a folder, YN notices her handwriting, and realizes it’s all of the questionnaires and paperwork.

“This paperwork is fine for casual play but we need to establish more before I feel comfortable getting started,” Harry tells her as his eyes trace over the information.

“Your hard limits…” Harry trails off as he skims, “We have a few similar ones. Neither of us are into body fluid play other than come. As well as we both do not like temperature play, well hot wax in particular.”

“Allergic reaction made my bum cheek swell up like I got stung by fifty bees,” YN smiles shyly, it was so nerve-wracking, she was intimidated and he wasn’t even trying at that moment.

Harry lets out a laugh, a genuine one, a sound she hasn’t heard before and it was beautiful like the rest of him.

“I also had an allergic reaction. I thought my cock was going to be permanently damaged,” Harry’s smile is softer, the dimple still appearing.

“I still have a scar on my ass,” YN giggles, he’d find it soon enough but now he knows why she has it.

“Any other limits not mentioned?”

“No, I mean I haven’t tried everything but those things are definite no-gos,” YN tells him, her nails digging into her thighs unconsciously almost.

“And we will find out other things you don’t like along the way. Hopefully, we find more things that you enjoy,” Harry's voice is gentle, like he can sense her nervousness and is trying to ease it.

“Things you know you like,” Harry prompts, looking back down towards her papers.

“I like to be a…brat as you know. I really love the dynamic of pushing and pushing until I give in. I love making my dom frustrated and annoyed. However, if the aftercare isn’t sweet and extremely gentle than it ruins the experience for me.”

The smile had naturally faded off if his face, eyes intent on her, “You want me to wear you down? Until you’re crying for me to be nice to you but even then I’ll give you more. After we wrap up, you want praise, compliments, and affection.”

YN nods in agreement, “Exactly.”

“Was this what your previous dom gave you?”

“Sorta? We were younger and he was still really learning. He wasn’t as mean as I wanted but he struggled with that part. He was definitely a softer dom than what I wanted. He could only handle so much of me being a brat, it was a fine line because he would start to actually get angry with me and it was hard for me to tell. I never fully felt like I was able to push as much as I wanted.”

“You will be able to push as far as you want with me. If you think you can go hard, I promise you I will give it back a hundred times worse,” Harry's words are threatening but she knows he’ll make good on it.

“We’ll see,” YN pokes the side of her cheek with her tongue in an act of indifference

Harry glances at her from under his eyelashes, gaze darting down to her chest for a moment before her lips then her eyes again.

YN knows her nipples are outlined against the thin fabric, ready to be played with, and teasing right in front him.

“As for Arthur,” Harry’s voice gets serious again, “I already laid out to him all of his rules and expectations. I do not share in scene.”

“I heard other members saying you did share your submissives,” YN isn’t arguing, just curious.

Harry pauses, lip twitching before blinking slowly and very distinctly says, “I will not share you in a scene. Is that an issue?”

“No, I don’t want that either. I just didn’t know what made me different,” YN responds, picking at her thumb on her lap.

“A lot of things make you different,” Harry replies cryptically, he doesn’t elaborate nor does YN ask because he continues speaking.

“He will not participate. He will not speak. And he will leave the room when I’m providing aftercare,” Harry tells her firmly, fingers drumming against the dark cherry oak.

“And he was okay with that?”

“He was hesitant at first but aftercare is very important to provide. I should be the one taking care of you afterwards, at least immediately afterwards, and I take it very seriously.”

“That all sounds fine.”

YN has to bite back saying ‘can you ask Arthur not to be in the room at all?’

“We will meet every Saturday night. At the start of hours. You will not socialize with others nor will you participate in free play. You will be fully dressed at all times in front of other members.”

YN tilts her head, leaning forward just the slightest so she knows there’s a gap in her top, flashing him his first sight of her breasts.

“Yes sir.”

Harry’s fingers roll tightly into a fist, exactly how she would hope he would have responded.

“I cannot wait to make you cry like the little disobident brat you are, fuckin’ starving for anything I’ll give you,” Harry tells her, voice dropping noticeably lower.

“I’ve been good all night. I’ve said sir,” YN makes sure to sound as innocent as possible, fluttering her eyelashes at him.

It’s crossing a boundary, surely.

Arthur isn’t here.

YN cannot find it in her to care.

“Then I guess our scenes will be mild, boring,” Harry shrugs, his cadence going slower, deeper into his accent, “Shame.”

He stands up, taking his time to round the desk, and reaches out his hand, “I will walk you out.”

YN raises her eyebrow, “In a minute. My legs are sore from running around all day.”

She gets the perfect response.

Frustration.

Harry’s jaw shifts under his skin, teeth together, and nostrils flaring, “Get the fuck up.”

“Jesus, someone has an attitude,” YN mutters under her breath but obviously loud enough that Harry would be able to hear her clear as day.

She pushes herself out of the seat and turns towards the door, the opposite side of where Harry is standing to bypass him.

As she walks towards the exit, a hand reaches from behind her, his chest suddenly flush against her back, and a hand cupping the sides of her neck.

He pulls her back into him with enough force that it knocks the wind out of her for a moment and she squeals in surprise, airway suddenly restricted slightly.

“You’re cute when you’re brave, kitty,” Harry whispers in her ear, teeth grazing her lone, and he bites her - enough to sting, “I’ll show you a fucking attitude. One you’ve never seen.”

His fingers tighten for a moment and YN doesn’t think before she’s pressing her bum back into the cradle of his hips.

He was thick, unsurprisingly big from what she could feel, and she was craving that inside her as soon as possible.

YN reaches for the hand on her throat and surprisingly, Harry lets her move if, down over her collarbones, down over her sternum, and guides him right to her chest.

Over the fabric, Harry finds her hard nipple with ease, and gives her the hardest tweak she’d ever experienced, gasping as she grinds backwards.

“Enough.”

Harry suddenly takes his hand, his body away, and is standing at a distance.

He shakes his head, “We can’t be doing things like this. You know that.”

YN bites her bottom lip, she knows why, and she knows Harry is just trying to respect her fiancé even when she can’t.

“Yeah,” YN agrees, trying to stop the tightness because she’s in over her head, how can she only have him once a week.

Why was she so fucking in to him when she barely knows him?

When she’s fucking engaged, with a date, a ring, and her father’s blessing to be wed.

YN crosses her arms over her chest, embarrassed because she almost feels like she’s being scolded for her actions.

As she should be.

His hand comes to her neck, cupping it gently this time as he sighs, shaking his head solemnly before their eyes meet, “This isn’t a good idea.”

YN’s heart rate spikes.

“You’re going to destroy me, aren’t you?”

And the way he says it isn’t teasing but isn’t accusatory either.

It’s like it’s a fact.

“I’ll try not to,” YN peeps up, swallowing harshly.

Harry laughs wistfully, thumbing over the center of her throat before stepping back, “S’a bit too late now, kitty.” ++

Friday cannot come quick enough.

YN is excited enough that the buzzing in her veins feels electric.

YN had sent Harry a picture earlier in the day of a hot pink lingerie set and then simpler black one next to it.

YN [11:03AM]: which one, sir? [photo attachment]

Harry [12:34PM]: It doesn’t matter. You’re stripping the minute you’re in the room.

Harry [1:01PM]: I am very rarely spontaneous. I have had this night planned since I first sat you in the club that first night.

YN [1:02PM]: when you were playing candy crush on your phone?

Harry [1:03PM]: I wasn’t playing candy crush. I was reviewing your file virtually to see if you were available for open play.

YN[1:04PM]: i thought you didn’t play in your club anymore

Harry[1:04PM]: I haven’t in nearly a decade.

YN’s hands were shaking, excitement, confusion, and curiosity.

YN[1:06PM]: what would you have done if i had been available?

Harry[1:13PM]: I would have fucked you so well that you wouldn’t have wanted to even look in your fiancé’s direction ever again. That you would have chased after me like a puppy after that instead of it being obvious how much I wanted you.

Harry[1:13PM]: I wanted you to only be able to think of me every time you slept with your fiancé.

Harry[1:14PM]: I’ve never been a possessive man but something in you has sparked it for me. I typically share without a problem. The one time I actually have to share, it’s going to be a struggle. I’m willing to try.

YN felt that Harry was actually being vulnerable with her for the first time and she didn’t know what all of this meant. There is warning signs that YN is blatantly ignoring because he just fed her everything she’d wanted to hear.

YN[1:23PM]: thank you for trying

Harry [1:39PM]: I will see you tonight, sweet girl.

Sweet girl.

It felt different than the sweetie pie that Arthur went with, a nickname that she never had liked but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

YN may have reread their texts a few times as she got ready for the night.

She was going to have to meet Arthur there as he was coming from a work dinner.

++

Arthur meets her outside the club, giving her a firm kiss which takes her by surprise, he murmurs, “I cannot wait to see you tonight in there.”

YN rubs his shoulder, stiff when he kisses at her neck, and grips her hip.

“We should probably go in,” YN whispers back, stepping out of his hold to motion towards the door.

“Okay, sweetie,” Arthur smiles brightly, oblivious to any tension that YN’s holding in her body as he keeps his hand on her waist and follows her in.

YN had forgotten to tell Arthur about the rule that Harry did not want her interacting with other members before a scene.

And Harry clearly hadn’t communicated that with him because when they walk through the free play room doors, he guides them towards a group.

Arthur had made friends with a few people and they wave at them when they walk in, encouraging them to come chat.

YN feels herself start to panic slightly, this wasn’t good, off the bat she wasn’t following instructions and she needed to speak up.

“Hey guys!” Arthur greets as he pulls her with him into the circle of people.

“No, Art. I can’t -“ YN starts to frantically whisper into his ear as his brows twist downward in confusion.

Suddenly, everyone in the group goes wide-eyed, and YN has a sinking feeling that she knows exactly why.

A hand wraps around her throat, similar to the other day, and applies practiced pressure on the sides where her blood flows as he yanks her backwards into his chest.

His lips to her ear and it’s not necessarily what he says but it’s the tone.

It’s the dominance, the aggression, and something about it seems borderline primal, rasp and deep as he speaks carefully.

“If you think this is going to work in your favor, you’re very fucking wrong,” Harry warns with another squeeze, firmer this time.

Everyone around them is quiet.

They’re almost in shock.

And YN knows it has nothing to do with her and everything to do with Harry being openly dominant when he hasn’t in nearly a decade.

Harry must look towards the crowd, “My stupid lil’ kitty seemed to forget her rules already. You are not to interact with her prior or during play hours. Afterwards, it is fine. However, she is off-limits in every fucking sense. Understood?”

“Yes.”

All in unison.

Harry doesn’t acknowledge Arthur’s existence.

The hand on her neck was possession, ownership, and making sure everyone knew that YN was his to play with only.

“Sir, I-“ YN begins to try to speak when he lets up slightly.

Harry leans back toward her ear, his voice noticeably softer and quiet enough no one else can hear, “Hush. No play in front of others, remember? S’just for us. Now let’s go.”

YN closes her mouth and nods, eyes downward to avoid making eye contact with anyone who was watching.

Harry releases his grip, hand coming to intertwine their fingers which seems like such a stark contrast from where he’d been applying pressure to her airways.

It’s a quiet trek down the hallway, YN keeps her head down even when Arthur exchanges pleasantries with Raven.

Once they’re in the room, YN feels like she’s quivering in a mixture of fear of the unknown and anticipated excitement.

Arthur goes to the chair in the far corner without prompting, silent as he should be.

YN doesn’t plan to look at him at all.

Imagining it’s just her and her dom.

Harry is hers.

Atleast on Fridays.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?” Harry rasps lowly, stepping in front of her and studying her face.

YN shakes her head.

“Speak the fuck up,” Harry’s voice is substantially louder, meaner, and his whole expression has changed into something darker, malicious.

“No,” YN shakes her head again, biting back with a little attitude.

The same smile, deviant and enthralled with her response spreads on his face, dimples carving into his cheeks.

“Then let’s start,” Harry rumbles as he steps back even further, sitting on the bench, “Strip. Everything off.” + 👀 please let me know your thoughts! They make my day

[chaepink]

can you write about sub yan cumming too fast and having to overstimulating himself for us ☺️

sub!yan, dom!reader, overstimulation, whining, crying, teasing, masturbation

“I-It hic! It h-hurts, [name]!” Your yandere looks at you with glazed, glassy eyes, tears forming in the corners and falling as he pumps his dick fast.

“But darling, this is your punishment for cumming too fast. You caused this for yourself.”

He lets out a cry as he runs his own thumb over the tip, the pleasure making him shiver and for pre cum to leak out even more. There’s a small puddle of it underneath his dick and it slowly grows larger every time he cums.

You giggle at the lewd sight of his spread legs and how he’s watching your every move, wanting you to get closer and touch him any where.

“F-Fuck [name].” He lets out a desperate whimper. How many times has he cummed now? Three? Four? Your yandere doesn’t know, the pleasure and pain fogging his mind and making it hard to think. All he knows is that he’s close again and although it hurts, he doesn’t want to stop. His hand on his dick speeds up as the pleasure overwhelms him again.

“I-I’m close ah! Please l-let me cum, p-please?”

Grinning at just how pathetic he looks, you nod, wanting to see him fall apart again just from his own hand.

He sees you nod and lets out a cry as he cums, cum shooting out his spent dick and onto his already stained chest and thighs. He looks absolutely lewd like this but he looks so pretty at the same time.

Seeing his hand slow down, you only shake your head at him and he whines, knowing the words you’ll say next.

“Did I say stop darling? You’re not done till I say you’re done baby.”

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[ihave-atummyache]

3 way with ur roomie, hey roomie

ot8 blurb/imagine

stray kids

just my personal thoughts on the topic of ur skz!bf sharing u with another member (;

1.5 words

just hard thoughts i guess? idk im just horny and thinking

bang chan:

would share u with seungmin.

i feel like they would have very different approaches to how they are intimate, however, they both very much so give off brat tamer vibes in my opinion! i think seungmin would be more of a hard!dom brat tamer and chan would be more of a soft!dom brat tamer or even like more of an emotional brat tamer than a physical one. in the context that seungmin would spank you, smack you, spit on you, degrade you, chan would rather have you write that youre sorry 100 times on a piece of paper. im sorry its hot idk dont ask me!

i think their dynamic would work well together because they are so opposite but also so similar that it would be really easy to break you.

also they both would definitely love to see you cry. idk thats what theyre saying!!

lee know:

would share u with chan.

okay, hear me out. i know most people would think that he would share you with jisung but i so disagree!! minho is a possessive, jealous, mfer (hot). that being said, he is also basically joined at the hip with jisung and when you come around, its probably quite often the three of you together.

i dont think minho could stand the idea of you being around someone 24/7 that has seen you naked and felt every inch of you. hes sooo jealous.

but!! i think minchan would make for a great time tbh. theyre both so strong and yummy that it could get really rough, fast!! they're both very conscious of your body and how it is reacting to everything and they work in perfect tandem to make sure youre having a good time :p

you definitely cum so many times you can’t walk by the end of it all!

oh! and they both have greatttt stamina so i can just imagine you guys going at it for hours and hours.

most likely to have been made self indulgently, fueled by my own personal desires.

-on my knees for minchan.

changbin:

would share u with hyunjin.

changbin is so obsessed with hyunjin and its the cutest thing in the world. he thinks he can never be more obsessed with anyone but then, he meets you!

the idea of the two people he adores most in the world being intimate with him at the same time??? hot. hot hot hot. i also think that binnie is such a visual person. seeing you and hyunjin together is probably just pure art in his eyes.

i think that it would actually be super intimate. it would definitely not be something that happens often or casually. it probably happened one night on accident and it was a lot more intimate and intense than you all figured it would be.

changbin and hyunjin definitely kiss while they eiffel tower u. im sORRY!

hyunjin:

would share u with felix.

hyunjin loves felix so much. we all know this. i think that it would be very important that you and felix get along for hyunjin to make the relationship work.

honestly, it wouldnt surprise me if hyunjin were to make you two meet before you meet anyone else. he just values lix's opinion so much and its so cute. with that being said, i think that the idea of sharing you would kind of come naturally.

you and felix have GREAT chemistry and i think it would be hyunjin that suggests it. you three are probably sitting around the table or in the living room and he's just listening to you and felix talk and then he just speaks up with something stupid and hyunjin-like, for example: 'do you wanna have a threesome. like us three?' and obviously you and felix are quite surprised but after it being talked about, youre all down.

felix is probably a little softer in bed and i imagine hyunjin being the same way, except if he get particularly worked up. i imagine sex with hyunjin is usually pretty intimate and more like love-making. he is just such a romantic and values intimacy so much.

theres probably a lot of you receiving great head from the two boys and a LOT of kissing. and they have such nice lipshshshsjash

u definitely have a few bruises left as a reminder.

han:

would share u with minho.

okay okay okay so

im sensing the dynamic of minho actually not really participating and youre both kind of submissive BECAUSE voyeur minho>>>>

him telling jisung exactly how he should touch you or what he should say to you and then he gets all frustrated when jisung doesnt do it right and pushes him out the way and is like 'do it like this' and then showing him exactly how its done.

you're definitely being treated like an object more than a person and it's embarrassingly just that much hotter. i feel like jisung would follow every one of minho's commands without much thought. he trusts him whole heartedly even when it comes to you.

when you do actually have sex with both of them, it’s probably super rough. i feel like jisung would feed off minho’s energy and try to match it, yk?

felix:

would share you with changbin.

okay....hear me out! why do i lowk feel like you could dom changbin and felix so well.... and theyre so muscly and like masculine but you can get them both on their knees for you????? HOT

anyways, felix trust changbin a lot and he has said that changbin is his ideal type in men so... youre his ideal type, changbin is his ideal type, felix is in heaven.

a lot of praise from you has them both flustered and blushing and like putty in the palm of your hand. they could definitely dom you too tho!!! dont get me wrong.

manhandled, thrown up against a wall, rough, marked up, the works. they would probably hold you up at an insane angle so they can both fuck into you at the same time. some crazy karma sutra shit. i think they would be the first ones out of all these duos that would be found out. the way that changbin just suddenly gets a lot closer and touchier with you and the way the three of you would interact, it would be suspicious

most likely to end up in a poly relationship, methinks!

seungmin:

would share u with i.n.

THATS HIS BRO FR.

"seungmin, how do i make a girl cum with my fingers?"

"i can show u better than i can tell u"

and thats how you end up sprawled out on the bed getting edged over and over and over until you can barely feel your body!

"no angle your hand like this, there you go! you feel how this pretty pussy just clenched around you? thats good"

"you could probably make her squirt, she does all the time"

seungmin's words would be filthy. actually talking like youre just a sex doll that they can use for their own pleasure. i.n would probably often return and ask you and seungmin different questions and then youre all in the bedroom

he just happens to be more of a visual learner is all!

least likely to become poly, methinks! im under the impression that out of everyone, seungmin and jeongin would be the two that are most likely to keep things platonic. i think these would also be the most likely two members that have a friend with benefits and genuinely never catches feelings, yk?

okay and maybe it's just my own personal hand kink.... but they both have such fucking pretty hands like oh my goshdmsmshx put them down my throat pls!

i.n:

would share u with jisung.

tbh i think jeongin would be the most likely to share you with multiple members (maybe at the same time but uh anyways) but him and jisung just work.

jeongin is genuinely sooooo fond of jisung and you can just tell. he takes good care of jisung, even though he's younger and i think he trusts him a lot.

however, i think there could be a crazy dynamic here...

dom i.n x sub hannie x sub you?????

why is that kind of hot... and you all know im a big advocate for dom!han but i imagine him being a softer dom, at least a lot softer than jeongin. i.n and minho seem like they would be very similar in their dom ways.

i just cant imagine jeongin being a sub!!! like he IS an aquarius…lets not forget.

him and han’s dynamic is very silly and you can tell that they love each other dearly and feel very safe with one another. like they’re very much themselves around one another. i think thats why han would be able to sub to jeongin. and the irony of him being younger and he’s bossing him around… he would dig. jisung a freak!

han is a certified pussy addict. he eats coochie off the bone!! im imagining you sat back against i.n’s chest and jisung is between your legs just devouring and jeongin has his fingers practically gagging you omg i gtg N O

[jup1ter33]

Boothill headcannons

sfw + nsfw! 🔞 brings up his past so be prepared to hear about that😥

sfw

he is so goofy with you, always bickering and starting something just to get on your nerves.

he means no harm though, just playful banter.

he's a wee bit touch starved, so he adores it when he can hold you and kiss you

no body better try and hurt you unless they'd like a bullet between the eyes from him.

he has no problem firing his gun at anyone who dares to hurt you, whats a few more credits on his bounty??

when you first learned about what happened on his home planet, you didn't know how to respond. you could see the pain in his eyes, but he would try and dismiss it.

that same night, he ended up bawling his eyes out on your shoulder. the words "I miss my baby... my daughter." spouted from his lips. he was sure that he couldn't cry anymore, but with you, he felt such security, a safe haven for himself.

he'd have nightmares often. he'd abandon his charging station to come lay with you clutching you to his chest in fear that he'd loose you too.

but moments with boothill are rarely sad. In fact, he's typically enthusiastic and playful with you.

he's a charmer, calling you cute names and what-not.

he'd remove his hat and place it on your head while he kisses you.

being a galaxy ranger, he would often have to leave for weeks at a time. he'd give you a piece of his clothes, or a pin off his jacket, or some flowers before he left. he'd give you a deep hug, resting his head ontop of yours and taking in your scent before he has to leave.

on his trips he'd send you photos of the scenery, or some cool monuments, or anything he'd think would interest you.

he'd text you good morning and good night every day, saying how he misses you

on those days where he gets back in the middle of the night, he'd find you sleeping in the bed on his side, the blankets pulled up to your chin.

he's quietly snuggle his way in, cradling you in his arms.

buttttt, when he gets back in the morning, you better be ready to go out and have some fun.

he'll give you a gift he picked out for you, take you out drinking or to some random restaurant. sure, he'd get stares, but he didn't care.

he's so good with kids, he plays with them all the time and scolds them when they've been naughty.

he used to play guitar with his little girl, but now that his hands are metal, he has trouble getting his fingers to press on the fret board correctly:(

nsfw

oh boy, be prepared to hear this man

he's so whiny, he whimpers and moans so loud.

one of his absolute favorite things is to eat you out. the only human part of him left is his face, so being burried in between your thigh, your warm cunt pressed against his mouth, he can feel so much of it. it sends his fans whirling from the feeling of skin-to-skin.

and the pet names, he never runs out of them. darlin', sweetheart, buttercup, the list goes on and on.

because of his synestheisa beacon, it's hard for him to give you really any degrading words.

"T-take it like the cutie you are..."

he ends up getting frustrated and decides that maybe until he can get that solved, he won't use those words on you.

wondering how his dick works? yeah me too.

he'd probably have a silicone skin layer underneath his metal "armor" so I'd assume that his girth would be made of that. (there's no way it's metal that would be torture 😭)

boothills hair is sensitive, like before, his head is the only human part of him left. giving him a good tug makes him groan and jolt.

manhandles you. not exactly intentionally, but because of his cyborg body, it's hard for him to remember that he's alot tougher than you are, and he doesn't mean it in a way that your weak, (because your not) but because he simply gets so worked up he accidently will toss you around a bit.

he's had his fair share of experience, mostly before be was a cyborg, so he'll test things out on you.

he'll watch and see if your reaction to his metallic fingers prodding at your hole, would his fingers be too hard for your liking? would they be too big? he'd be observant in the way he works thru things with you.

until he met you, he didn't know that this charging port was a little sensitive.

he was being rough with you, as a result, your arms wrapped around his body in pleasure, clawing at his back. on accident, your fingers slipped into the charging port on his lower back, and he came on the spot.

he was soooooooo embarrassed.

"i-i...darlin' I didn't know that could even happen to me..." You assured him that it was fine, and that it was rather hot.

he'll find himself on his hands and knees, his port being teased from your Skillful hands and he melts. he whimpers and moans so loud, already on his 3 orgasm.

kinda hard to overstim him, he doesn't feel alot through his metallic skin, but if you make him cum a few times, he gets so whiny and needy.

he's mostly a top, he prefers to have you wrapped around his finger. literally.

but in the case that he decided to be a bottom, he cries your name, telling you how good it feels, how much he loves you, all the things he wants to do to you. he really can't shut up.

after you two finish, he lays next to you for a moment, allowing his fans to cool his overheating body down, and for you to regain your breath.

"so...how'd I do?" He'd ask with a cheek grin on his face. he knows he did good, but he wants to hear it straight from you.

he'll run you a shower or bath, whichever you prefer. but since he doesn't exactly need to shower (and it makes him rust) he'll stay on the outside. helping you with whatever you'd need.

and while your busy washing up, he'll clean off himself with his cleaning kit, oil his fingers and joints, make sure he didn't screw up his alignment.

once you're done, he won't allow you to lift a finger. he'll change the sheets, get you food or a drink, dress you, help you with your skincare, everything. since his body is robotic, he can just charge and won't get sore. he wants to make sure that he didn't mess you up too badly.

once everything is done, he'll lay you in bed ever-so gently.

he'll cuddle up next to you, burrowing his face into your chest, listening for your heartbeat. yes, it brings him pain that he no longer has a beating heart, but as long as he can lay with you and hear yours, to know you're safe, all is well.

[lovemomhatepolice]

charles leclerc swf alphabet

navigation taglist requests

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Charles is a very affectionate person. Regardless of whether you are alone or around other people. It also doesn't matter to him if there are paparazzi or fans around. Showing affection is very important to him. He even has his arm around you all the time - whether it's around your waist or around your shoulders. He likes to feel that you are next to him and wants to show it himself, too.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?) Hm, as a friend Charles is someone everyone would like to have. Literally. Leclerc is able to do anything for his friends. Help clean up after a party? He's already the first one there. Having a hard time in life? Oh, don't worry, Charles has it under control and is already on his way to you - if you feel like it of course. A man will never be able to cross someone else's boundaries.

How did it start? I think Charles is the kind of person who can create a friendship literally out of the silliest situation that could be. How about a simple meeting in a coffee shop when they mixed up your orders? Or a meeting among the same friends? That's definitely the key to success.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?) He loves to cuddle!!! Especially when he is sad or misses you a lot when you were not next to each other. Although he likes to show affection in front of others, when it comes to hugging, it is a more private sphere. When you are alone, he usually cuddles you to his chest (especially at night) or is a little spooner (he loves it) when you cuddle on the couch. Charles is also a fan of hugging you from the side - his arm around your shoulders, that is.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?) I think slowly yes. Charles has been in several relationships in his life, but only with you did he feel that it was time to settle down. It is known, he is still young, after all, he is 27 years old, however, every year he glances more and more towards creating a home nest with you somewhere in Monaco. Well, in cooking he is not perfect, but he likes to help. More often than not, however, he cleans, oh he really likes to clean together with you. You share rooms, that's why it always goes faster for you.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Something quiet. Charles knows very well what it's up against. Social media, mass of hate, comments…. With each passing time, these breakups, as well as the relationship itself, are more private. Of course, it is not hidden, however, more protected. And privately I think Charles tries to handle it gently, with respect for the other person.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) For Charles, a proposal is something big, it's not like simply giving a ring and that's it. I think he would definitely prepare something big, but private. I also think he would have been advised by his brothers when it came to the whole pre-engagement thing. How soon? Ay, definitely not as fast as one might expect, for him it must take a long time before he takes this step.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) Charles is very subtle with you, as well as with others. Never in his life has he said such words to you that would hurt you somewhere more, or touched you in a way that could offend you He always wants the best for you and treats you like glass

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) As I mentioned. Charles likes to hug - sometimes, especially in the beginning it can be something like black magic for him and looks very comical, but it gets better with time (please tell me you've seen all those edits where they show Charles hugging people in an awkward way, I'm crying)

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) Yup, it took him a long time - you kissed faster than it came to the utterance of these words, what's more! You were the first to say them, because you were already fed up with his procrastination - you threw everything on one card and acctually, it worked out

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) The man is jealous. He may not show it, but he's jealous, dammit. Even of Arthur, although less so here He always has his hand on you somewhere or his watchful gaze And if his jealousy scale kicks in (very quickly) he wants to take you away from that person at all costs or just cozies up

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) His kisses mainly depend on whether he is wearing facial hair or not. If he has - there is a lot of laughter at it, by the fact that he tickles you, however, when he doesn't have one, you completely give yourself away to pleasure. The most you both enjoy is just kissing each other on the lips, it gives you a lot of comfort after a long day. However, he also likes to kiss you on the belly when you are lying down together, and he himself likes to be kissed on the neck. He loves it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Totally like daddy material! The kids love him, and he loves the kids. He knows well how to take care of them, even though he hasn't had much exposure to them in his life, and he loves it when he has the opportunity to do so

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?) Mornings with Charles are hardcore - even when you have the chance to spend them just the two of them. This man is always in a hurry, he has a lot of things to do and to get up together, it really must be a miracle I don't even mention eating breakfast.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Oh, evenings are definitely your time. You always spend it together, no matter what the day was like. You prepare or order food together, sometimes you drink wine. You must watch a movie or at least an episode of a TV series (depending on how much time you have and how tired you are) and often take baths together. It's time for you to calm down and get ready for bed, before which you talk for a long time

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) Charles was attentive, as in any relationship he starts or even already has. I think he is well aware that many people want to take advantage of him because of the benefits. That's why he opened up to you slowly and it took him a long time to trust you 100%, but when he did, he was very happy

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) He's patient - ha, well after all he works with the Ferrari team, if he wasn't so patient he probably wouldn't have been there long ago (pardon the situational joke) Coming back, to you he has great patience, I really don't know what it would take to bring him out of it

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) Fifty fifty Charles definitely does not remember dates, although your birthday and your anniversary he tried to forge by heart (poor result), but small details about you are with him forged in such a place to which nothing and no one has access Will you mention your favorite flowers? Have them on the table the next day Favorite drink? Always fresh whenever you feel like it

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) Definitely one of the first dates, where you took him to your favorite childhood spot and just lay there on the grass and talked about various topics - it was there that he opened up about his dad and Jules, and you gave him a comfort he hadn't felt in a long time Later you ended up at your house, snuggled together on the couch, watching his favorite movie, which soon became yours as well (there will be a chapter of this in the relationship series!!)

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He is protective, very protective. By virtue of the fact that you have a relationship with him, you face a mass of hate - in many cases unjustified. Leclerc has therefore been tempted more than once to clarify some issues with his fans. In the real world, not the media world, he is also protective.

No one will lay a hand on you in an inappropriate way or speak to you that way, because they are immediately next to you. How would he himself like to be protected? Ah, he pretends he doesn't need it, however, he likes it when you make rude comments that are thrown at him. Or when he gets into an argument with someone on the team over wrongful accusations and suddenly you step in, defending him.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) He is making a huge effort. Leclerc is a perfectionist, so everything at his place must be buttoned up to the last button. Maybe sometimes he will forget a date, such as your anniversary, but then he tries to make up for it and it definitely helps.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?) Emm, I get the impression that Charles can be a bit selfish or complacent at times. Let's not lie to ourselves, social media can mess with your head quite a bit and Charles is a good example of that, unfortunately. That's why sometimes you have to bring him down to earth, so that fame doesn't go to his head

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) He focuses on his appearance, no question about it. Over time, he has started to dress better, which can be seen without batting an eye (well, I beg you, who among you doesn't remember his tragic outfits of a few years ago), and he tries to keep his hair and facial in good condition

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?) Yes, I think he would feel that way. You were the one who let him settle down by your side and showed him yet another vision of life that he hadn't seen until now. Together you make a really strong couple, and by not giving it to so much media remark, it definitely helps.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.) One of the things that literally knocks him off his feet is your contact with his family. You've single-handedly started learning French to better communicate with them (if you speak French, forgive me) and Charles is fascinated by you. From the first meeting of yours with his mother, he knew you were the only one

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?) Charles doesn't like to lose - he often doesn't show it, but it's definitely one of the things that affects him the most. He takes it very much to heart, which makes him try several times harder later on - which has its pros and cons. In people, he very much dislikes hypocrisy and taking advantage of others, which is also what guides him when he meets others

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Charles has trouble sleeping. Due to the experiences he went through when he was a young man, which caused him mental problems, sleep problems also arose. He often sits for long periods of time, and you try with all your might to sit with him so that he is not lonely.

A/N: please do not copy or translate my work! if you have any issues regarding this please contact me in the messages :)

and so we have officially started the alphabet SWF series, one at a time will appear for everyone :) in the meantime also the rest of the NSWF alphabet

more content: formula 1 masterlist, latest one-shot with lando norris, charles leclerc masterlist

[yoonivy]

my house of stone, your ivy grows (and now i’m covered in you); part 3.

aemond targaryen x fem!reader

genre. childhood friends to lovers, slow burn, drama, angst, fluff, smut. it’s a y/n fic but no use of y/n. heavily inspired by taylor swift’s ‘ivy’.

When a fierce blizzard ravages the North, a certain dragon rider gets caught up in it and crashes onto Bear Island.

And right to you, the youngest daughter of House Mormont.

warnings. smut! loss of virginity, fingering, riding, creampie

wc. 16k+ 01| 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

––––

The private library in Maegor’s Holdfast is Prince Aemond Targaryen’s favored spot for solitude and peace. It is the one place away from all the noise, gossip, and politics in the castle; and he often finds himself there, reading whatever book catches his eye that day or quietly contemplating by the fireplace. The only person that keeps him company there is his sister, Princess Helaena, but that only happens once every blue moon. So it is usually only him and Snowball – a stray cat he had claim as his own only a year ago, finding the little fellow near the docks of Blackwater Bay and taking pity since he thought the cat to be a mirror of himself, with it’s pure white fur and one eye blinded from a street fight with another stray – and he likes it that way. 

So why, oh why, is his usual peace in the private library being demolished when today is the final day he can have some time by himself before the festivities of his siblings’ wedding begins? 

“This is going to be the worst week of my life!”

Aemond’s facial features slightly twitch in annoyance, but chooses to ignore his older brother, continuing to read the text he has in front of him. Or at least, trying to – Aegon has been whining for over half an hour already, and it is really hard to focus when a big man child is crying into your ear.

“So many beautiful women from all around Westeros have been arriving into the city, all so they can witness me marry my strange, little sister!” Aegon bemoans, actual tears falling from his eyes as he runs his hand through his hair. Aemond rolls his own, thinking about how Helaena is the one given the short end of the stick in the deal. “It is so unfair!”

“Now imagine how our dear sister is faring with this,” Daeron says with a snicker at his place by the window, scratching under the chin of the small cat he has tucked in his arm. “I highly doubt she is any more ecstatic at the prospect of marrying you than you are.”

Aemond grins at his little brother, adding on, “And I would even propose she has it worse.”  

Daeron laughs hard, head knocking back, which could only mean he is in agreement. It has Aegon’s jaw dropping, looking between his two younger brothers, “How can you two be so cruel when I am already in distress?” Then he turns to Daeron, “Is this what they taught you in Oldtown? To disrespect your older brother?” 

Daeron shrugs, throwing him a boyish grin, and Aegon heaves a bothered sigh as he slumps against the chair he is sitting on. 

“You know,” Daeron begins, “I’m surprised our mother and grandfather even allowed you to put it off for so long. You and Helaena have been betrothed for nearly a decade.” 

“And every single day I prayed to the Sevens that our mother would change her mind…” Aegon grumbles petulantly. 

Aemond closes the book he has in his hands – clearly unable to read anymore – and tells him, “And each and every one of those prayers were completely useless. An annulment was never going to happen. Your marriage with Helaena is not only a way for our Targaryen bloodline and your inheritance to the throne to stay strong, but also so our mother would not have to agree to a betrothal between our sister and one of our bastard nephews. It is why mother sent an olive branch to our half-sister and rogue uncle and invited them to the wedding. It is purely just to gloat to Rhaenyra that she did not get what she wanted.”

Aegon rolls his eyes at Aemond – already knowing all that himself – and mutters angrily under his breath, “I detest this fucking political bullshit.”

Daeron shrugs again, returning to showering Snowball with affection. Their youngest brother is probably happy that he is a ward and squire of their uncle, Lord Ormund Hightower, over in Oldtown instead of being around here with all the drama.

Aemond, on the other hand, does not mind the intrigue of the court. Sometimes, he can even say he enjoys it. Besides, as heirs of the King of the Seven Kingdoms, he and his brothers should at least be knowledgeable on the affairs of the land that their father rules over – whether they like it or not. 

“I know what you two can do to make it up to me!” Aegon perks up suddenly, obviously over talking about the previous topic. Grinning mischievously, he leans forwards on the table in front of him and whispers to two in the room, as if the walls had ears, “Tonight… We’ll all sneak out… Have ourselves a little party all throughout the Streets of Silk in my honor…” He lifts his brows a few times, “Huh, how ‘bout it, brothers?” Then he smirks at Aemond, “You had fun the last time, didn’t you?”

Aemond grimaces while Daeron questions in disbelief, “You actually went with him?!”

“Once,” Aemond answers, then sharply glares at his older brother. “And never again.”

Aegon huffs and rolls his eyes, once again slumping in his seat as he mutters, “What a bore.”

“Wow…” Daeron awes, walking towards Aemond and gently drops the cat in front of him, Snowball purring as soon as Aemond starts scratching near his ear. Daeron pushes aside the book Aemond had been reading and lifts himself to sit on the table. “I did not think you are one to let him coerce you to do anything, especially his stupid ideas… I’m a bit disappointed, Aemond.”

Daeron is obviously teasing, but Aemond shoots him a glare anyway.

Aegon is beaming again, amused, and laughs too. Truly a hurricane of different emotions – probably the wedding jitters. 

“Hey, if it were not for my coercing and “stupid ideas”, Aemond would not have met that girl he is over the moon for,” Aegon says, still laughing. “The Northern bitch he is always writing his gay, little love letters—Eurgh!”

Aemond suddenly has him by the collar, cutting off his airway by how tight his younger brother’s grip is. The rage in Aemond is palpable, especially given how close their faces are, it’s clear to see. Aemond is seething when he spits out in Aegon’s reddening face, “I will have your tongue if you dare utter anything like that ever again, I don’t care. She is a lady of House Mormont and you will put respect on her name, or I’ll cut off your cock along with your tongue. Then we shall see if you will be having any fun on the Streets of Silk anytime soon.”

“Brothers, brothers…” Daeron tries to put himself between his two older brothers, pressing against their chest to push the trembling Aegon away from the furious Aemond. “As much as I think it is deserved, I do not wish to witness the heart attack that both our mother and father will have when they find out that their dear oldest son has been maimed and circumcised just days before his wedding.” 

That has Aemond loosening his grip, letting Aegon fall back down unceremoniously on the chair. With his father’s deteriorating health, Aemond did not want to be the one to cause him more pain. 

He sits back down too, trying to calm down as he ignores Aegon murmuring under his breath, “The Mormonts are hardly a house.”

“But tell me, what is the story there? Why did you fly North that day?” Daeron curiously asks, so used to his older brothers’ fighting that it does not even phase him. “You never did tell us.”

“Well, you see…” Aegon grins, still rubbing at the soreness around his neck before he starts the story. Aemond shuts his eye, choosing to drown his idiotic brother out to recall the time he told you himself.

It was when he visited during the third anniversary of the night he had landed on Bear Island, the snow on the ground in abundance but not as bad as that first time. The two of you were trudging through it, hands clasped together to prevent the other from falling. Although the two of you were falling behind the group of woodcutters that you, Aemond, and your brothers were helping out to gather firewood for the upcoming week, in case a snowstorm hits. It had been a long day, both of you tired but happy of the hard work you had done. As the sun started setting, Aemond turned to you and questioned, “Have I ever told you why I ended up here all those years ago?”

As you kept walking side-by-side with your best friend, you shook your head. “No… but I have been curious. King’s Landing is awfully far from Bear Island.”

Aemond heaved a sigh, stopping at his track and it made you stop too, your hand still in his. He eyed you hard, a serious look on his face. “I’ll tell you if you promise you won’t laugh at me.”

Facing him, you took his other gloved hand, holding both now, and just as seriously as he was, you said, “I promise.”

“My older brother he…” Aemond took a breath, and you squeezed his hand in comfort, knowing every story he told about his older brother does not end well. He gave you a small grateful smile, before he started again, “Well, first of all, we were reading this story book — about different creatures, and the horrible things they do — and then we got to the story about giants. It absolutely terrified me and it caused me to have nightmares for days after that… Then he found out I–” His mouth snapped shut, frowning, “A serving girl told him what I had done, and he began to make fun of me. I tried to act brave and say it was a lie but he saw right through me. So he dared me to fly up North, go beyond the Wall, find a giant and bring him back the head. If I did not, I was a coward and he would tell everyone what I had done…”

Aemond’s lips were trembling when he finished the story, his eye was wet. Frowning, you reached up, tugging the corner of his mouth up with your thumb. “Your brother is the stupidest, dumbest, most idiotic person I know.”

Aemond laughed through his sniffling. “You’ve never met him.”

“I don’t have to. I just know,” you told him with a shrug.

Aemond smiled at that. “But doesn’t that make me even more of an idiot for trying to prove him wrong?” 

You thought about it for a second, lips pursing to the side, then answered plain and simple, “Yes.”

His mouth dropped, and with a teasing, toothy grin you added, “But at least you met me.”

He was about to retort, but karma got you first, in a way of a snowball to your face by your brother, Jorah. You screeched as you wiped away the freezing ice covering your face, then screamed at the boy who was laughing, far ahead the two of you, “This is why Renee doesn’t fancy you!” 

Thus started the Great Snowball War of Bear Island, the one that you and Aemond lost horribly.

Aemond huffs out a soft chuckle fondly at the memory, almost missing when his older brother says your name and continues with, “I actually cannot wait to meet her soon and see what all the fuss is about.” 

Aemond snaps his attention on him. “What?”

“Your little Lady Mormont,” Aegon says so slowly, dragging each syllable like Aemond is dense. “She should be arriving in the city right now, with all the other Northern Houses.”

Aemond’s head shakes, disbelieving. “What are you talking about? House Mormont are never invited to these things. Believe me, I’ve tried before.”

“Yeah, well, when you are the oldest son of the King, what you want, you get,” Aegon says with a cocky shrug. But as Aemond continues to glare at him, calling his bluff, he sighs. “I asked our mother to invite them to the wedding. Told her it would be… nice, to do this for you. Since you have not seen her in years. I saw her write the invitation and everything. There is even already a chamber in Maegor’s Holdfast ready for her arrival.”

Aemond knows his brother well enough to know when he is lying or not, and so he abruptly stands, running to the door. As soon as he has it open with a swift kick of his pointed black leather boots, he takes off, Daeron watching with grand amusement and Aegon shouting after him, “You’re welcome, by the way!”

---

The small hall is already crowded to the brim when Aemond gets there. The new arrivals from the North easy to spot with their heavy clothing not suited for the southern weather. Among them, he sees someone familiar that has him smiling wide as he stride his long legs over to her.

“Lady Dorothea!” He calls out, and she turns around to face him with a smile of her own. Aemond had already had the pleasure of greeting your sister during her arrival a couple days ago with her Lord-Husband, Tobias Tully of Riverrun. He stands beside her now. Aemond bows his head towards him, “Lord Tobias.”

“My Prince,” they both answer back in respect.

“Did you know your sister is coming here as well?” Aemond asks Dorothea, which has her smile falling, confusing the prince.

“I–” Dorothea starts, but then sighs and smacks her palm lightly against her temple. “How did you find out?” It has Aemond frowning this time, unsure of the reaction. Then Dorothea chuckles. “My sister wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Oh… My brother told me. Just now, actually.” 

“She’s going to kill him,” Dorothea murmurs in a low voice that only her husband and Aemond could hear. Aemond’s lips start tugging up into a smile, and even more when Dorothea further explains, “My sister, she was looking forward to just… spring up on you. She even wrote this… Really long and foolhardy letter to your Lady Mother, her Grace, about why she wanted to keep it a secret and begged your mother to keep it a secret as well. Imagine that? Asking the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms to go along with your childish plans for… I don’t even know what,” Dorothea shares a laugh with the two men at her side, sighing at the thought of you. “Ah, my beloved little sister… How I do love her so…” 

Aemond can’t help but chuckle, nodding in agreement. “Do you know when she’ll arrive?”

Dorothea exchanges a look with her husband, then tells the prince, “She’s already here, my Prince.” The news has him sucking in a breath, his gaze already searching around again. “I have yet to see her, but I’ve already met with my father just a bit ago. He is taking their possessions to the two chambers they’ve been graciously given, and my sister… Well, I would hope you know her enough to know exactly where she is.”

A secret smile is shared with him, and in an instant, Aemond knows precisely what your sister meant.

---

Unlike the usual stoic and aloof prince that the staff of the Red Keep are used to, they are passed by a hurried yet bright-eyed Prince Aemond. There is an out of the ordinary grin gracing his face, so handsome that as he weaves through the mingling guests, he turns the heads of every pretty woman he passes by, hoping to gain his attention with a bat of their eyelashes. But he does not even notice, not when his own eye is searching around for the one face he is longing to see. 

As Aemond takes the now very familiar cobblestoned path to the Godswood, he catches sight of his twin cousins, Baela and Rhaena Velaryon, giggling together by the wisteria archways leading to one of the many gardens on the castle grounds. This could only mean that his bastard nephews are also running amok the Keep as well, but not even that can ruin his day… Because how can this day ever get ruined when as soon as he steps his foot onto the dirt ground of the Godswood, he has to suddenly stop short to catch his breath and calm his rapidly beating heart? 

Clutching a hand over his chest, he feels that he has to. Like if he does not try to protect it, his yearning heart will shoot out of his body to lay itself down for the heavenly being in the lilac dress who is staring up at the great oak Heart Tree of the Godswood. 

Although right in front of him, Aemond is still in disbelief. 

Is it truly you? 

He has dreamt of this a million times before – you, here, at his home, with him – but now that it is actually happening, he cannot even fathom it to be true. 

Aemond watches as your eyelids flutter shut, a gentle smile on your face. 

He wonders what you pray to your Gods for. All his visits to the Sept ends with him praying for your wellbeing and happiness – and more selfishly, for you to return his feelings. He used to pray for a taste of the crown on his head, but now he just wants you by his side, always — so is it really that bad?

The Targaryen Prince waits, giving you peace for your private moment, and only makes his move once your eyes flutter open. He keeps his footsteps light, so light that you are none the wiser he is by your side until he makes himself known, close enough that when he whispers your name, he can see the shiver going down your spine in delight. 

Spinning towards him, you murmur his name just as tenderly as he said yours. It makes his heart ache; remembering how long it has been since he has heard your voice, seen your smile, and felt that feeling when you looked at him – like he is someone that can be revered and loved. 

Then suddenly, your face is crumpling in mixture of a laugh and a cry, standing on the tip of your toes to throw your arms around him. 

It catches him by surprise. But it seems he is not the only one — because just as he is about to return the gesture, you are springing back and away from him.

“I’m terribly sorry, I forget myself,” you apologize as you glance around, your cheeks burning up with embarrassment at your display in front of the many others that came to greet the Old Gods after their long travel – and towards a prince . They are probably wondering why a girl from such a small and insignificant house thinks she is so familiar with the prince to even dare look him in the eye, let alone touch him. How you didn’t even address him with his title as well. At that thought, you dip your head down and murmur, “My prince.”

You feel fingers grazing under your chin, gently coaxing you to tilt your head up. You are met with Prince Aemond’s soft gaze and a warm smile on his lips. He is breathtaking, and you can only think about how pretty he is. You stare at him in awe, lashes fluttering as your eyes take in all his beauty so greedily, tucking in the image of him in every corner of your mind for safekeeping.

Before you can even form any thought other than that, his arms are wrapping around you. So tightly that you could not jump away if you wanted to like last time.  

You stand there frozen in place, feeling the curious stares of everyone around on you and your Prince. You can hear murmurings — whispers of his name, wondering who you are, and what the two of you are to each other. It should have you worried, how it might appear improper and scandalous in some way… But if your best friend did not care for their gossiping, then why should you? 

So you let go of the worry. 

You press your face against his chest, breathing him in as you hold him just as closely as he is holding you. 

It felt so nice and right that the two of you stood there like that for what seemed like hours.

In reality, only minutes passed — and although still long, when the two of you did part, it truly did not seem enough. 

“This is unfair… I wanted to be the one to surprise you, not the other way around!” You tell him with a playful pout, hoping it will hide the secret yearning in your heart.

Aemond’s perfectly straight and beautifully long silver hair swishes elegantly when his body shakes with laughter. “I’m afraid my older brother sold you out.”

“Your older brother… Prince Aegon?! How did he…?”

“He was the one to suggest to our mother to invite your family to the wedding.”

Your mouth drops in shock and it makes the corners of Aemond’s own tug up in a grin. “Believe me, I was surprised by his out of character thoughtfulness as much as you are.”

“Well if it were not for that and the fact that he is to be married soon, I would have had his tongue–” You catch yourself and glance around, hoping no one heard your treasonous thoughts uttered out loud. Luckily, no one did.

Aemond laughs again. It has been a while since he has laughed this much and he knows it is because of you. He always seems to be full of merriment whenever you are around. “Funny that, I had the same exact thought earlier.”

You share a smile with him, standing there and just happily basking in each other’s presence.

“It’s been too long…” Aemond says. Slow and carefully, he reaches a hand towards you, placing it on your shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

You suck in a breath as you allow him, emboldening the prince. He has you glancing down to follow the way his thumb gingerly brushes across your collarbone, gentle yet firm. A familiar feeling of heat toils deep in your lower belly, one you have come to know whenever you have thoughts of Aemond when you are alone in the privacy of your bedchamber. You look up at him from your lowered lashes, “I’ve missed you too.”

As you stare into his eye, you can not help but remember how you would slip your hand under your covers, your unpracticed fingers in between your thighs as you sigh his name into your pillow. It is burning you up to be thinking of something so impure in front of the Prince — if you only knew he has had his own fair share of sleepless nights doing the same. 

Aemond lets himself be selfish for a couple more moments, trailing his palm across and down your shoulder before he clasps his hands together behind his back. If he did any more than that, he knew he would have done something unbecoming for a Prince. 

“It seems you intend to stay true to your family nickname…" he says then, full of mirth. "You are still but a little cub.”

You gasp, appalled. “I’ve grown!”

Aemond hums with a teasing smirk.

You straighten up your posture even more, holding your head up high, trying to convince him. “I have!”

His answer remains the same, a hum, and the infuriating (and begrudgingly – charming ) smirk still on his lips.

“It’s not my fault you grew so freakishly so, with your long, spider-like legs,” you grumble. And it is true. The last time you had seen him, he was only an inch or two taller than you. Now he has at least a foot over you. So much has changed, especially when the first time you met him, you were the taller one.

Aemond can not help but be amused at the petulant look on your face and repeats out loud your use of ‘long, spider-like leg’ in disbelief. He licks his lips as the smirk turns into a beaming smile.

“I apologize, my lady,” Aemond says, dipping his head in mock apology. “May I make it up to you by showing you around the Keep?” 

Then he is holding his arm out for you to take. You narrow your gaze at him for a long second, letting him sweat. You notice the way he takes a hard swallow and thus, becoming satisfied. 

Sighing dramatically, you lock your arm around his elbow, your hand holding onto his bicep, sticking close by his side. “I suppose that is the least you can do.”

--

Aemond is a very thorough tour guide. For every place he shows you, he tells you about the long history of it and the most significant events that happened there. If it were anyone else, you would surely be bored. But since it is Aemond, he has your rapt attention. Besides, it overjoyed you to finally be able to put a place for all the stories that Aemond has told you over the years.

The prince takes you everywhere in the Red Keep – the Sept, the White Sword Tower, the Maidenvault, the Great Hall, the rookery, the training yard, the private library, and all the other places that are not off limits.

He saves the dragon pit for last, being the furthest from the Keep. 

“How are you feeling about the wedding?” You ask him, curious to know. You and the prince are still arm in arm as he leads you there, not at all in a rush and enjoying the leisurely walk.

Aemond shrugs nonchalantly. “It has been a long time coming. They’ve been betrothed since even before we’ve met. I think I’ve already come to terms with it.”

“Do you find it strange that your siblings are getting married?”

Aemond takes a moment before he answers, “I pity my sister, if that is what you are asking… But if it is because they are of the same blood… Well, I’ve told you about my many ancestors before, how they often married their own family to keep our bloodline pure for our legacy and to control dragons… And I must admit, there was even a time I had wanted for Helaena to have been betrothed to me instead—” He feels you stiffen slightly at his confession, “— Not that I felt anything romantically towards her in any way, but for duty and our birthright. And perhaps even to save my sister from the cruelty of our older brother. But now though…” he trails off, giving you a sidelong glance, “I am glad that the duty did not fall on me.”

You do not notice or feel his stare, deep in your thoughts and humming in contemplation at what Aemond just told you. Then finally, you say, “I could never picture myself marrying any of my brothers.”

Not only do you physically cringe, but the grimace of disgust that twists your features has Aemond laughing so heartily. 

“Good,” he says plainly, after his laughter lets up. Then he clears his throat before asking, “And what of other suitors? Surely you have many…”

You snort at the notion, very unladylike. “You think too highly of me, my Prince. I have none at all… Although I do think that they are all too scared of my older brothers to even try to court me.”

“Good,” he says once again. You look up towards him and see he is staring straight ahead, a satisfied smirk on his face. You want to ask him what has him grinning like a cat who got the cream, but before you get the chance to, Aemond turns to you and announces, “We’re here, my lady.”

You look at the building you are approaching in awe, the immense structure with the dome-like roof unlike anything you have seen before. You truly are not on Bear Island anymore. 

Aemond leads you inside, once again a walking history book. As you take in the information, you clutch onto him a little bit tighter when he takes you down into the dungeons. Though brave, you are not stupid, and you knew if you were to stray away from Aemond, there is only one dragon there loyal to the prince – the others would not be as kind. So you and Aemond pass by the others without giving them much attention, only catching glimpses of them. All of them big and mighty, and yet not nearly as immense or as ferocious as the dragon you have come to be so fond of. 

Finally, you make it to the largest holding area of the dungeon, the mighty beast inside laying down, resting.

“I took her for a long flight just this morning,” Aemond tells you with a smile. Then he parts from you, striding to the dragon first. Vhagar perks up when she hears him call her name, though only lifting up her head minutely. He stands beside her, murmurs something in High Valyrian, and then turns his heel to look towards you. Folding his arms behind his back, he waits. 

Now both their attention are on you. Cautiously, you approach the she-dragon, not knowing if she remembers you or not. She huffs hot air through her nostrils as you get closer, but does not move, only her pupils following you. When you make it to the prince’s side, he gives you a nod of encouragement. 

You reach out your hand, softly grazing the scales on Vhagar’s snout. Immediately, the she-dragon starts to rumble. Her eyes shut, basking in your touch and purrs even louder, happy.

You exchange a joyful laugh with the prince. Aemond places his hand on his dragon just beside yours and leans to whisper hotly in your ear, “It seems I am not the only one who missed you dearly.”

You can not help but burst inside with happiness.

--

For the next couple of days, you and the prince try to spend every waking hour together. Since the attention is mostly on Prince Aegon and Princess Helaena, Aemond had less commitments he had to attend to, leaving him with more free time than he has had the past three years. But he does get pulled away from you sometimes. Like this morning, after breaking fast together at the garden pavilion overlooking the ocean, leaving you with his sister, Princess Helaena. 

You did not mind one bit, you quite enjoyed the princess’ company. Her eccentricities remind you a lot of your brother, Jorah — who chose to stay home with Braeden and your mother. 

Like Jorah, Helaena talks your ear off about various subjects you are not familiar with. It is as if they think that if they know it, you know it as well. Still, you try to understand, asking questions when you see fit. It does not make things any more clear, but they seem to enjoy it all the same, and it makes you happy to indulge them with their special interest.

But when you do find yourself understanding what Helaena says, you notice that the princess has quite a funny side to her. Her jokes are very understated but intelligent, and when it hits, she has you laughing out loud. Even the dutiful royal guard following closely behind you and the princess cannot help but chuckle a bit.

The princess is so sweet and lovely, and it makes you all the more sad that in just a couple hours, she will be forced to marry her crude older brother.

You have only had the displeasure of being in Prince Aegon’s presence once – and thank the Old Gods, it was a very brief encounter because that was more than enough. Your skin still crawls in remembrance of his crass words towards you and the way he looked at you like you were merely just a piece of meat. He was lucky that he was pulled away to meet with some important Lord, because if it were not his brother, Aemond, to punch his lights out – holding back, with the knuckles of his fists whitening at his sides – it would have been your brother, Forrest, who also heard the Targaryen Prince.

“What are you thinking of, enkelitsos?” 

You snap out of your thoughts, turning to Princess Helaena with a smile.

“Hmm…? Oh, it is nothing…” You say, then you tilt your head at her. “What does that mean, by the way?”

“Enkelitsos?” When you nod, Helaena poses another question, “My brother has not told you?”

“No, he calls me it often yet keeps me in the dark.”

Helaena giggles into her hand that is not wrapped around your arm, then looks up at the clear sky, seeming faraway from you now. “When my brother disappeared that winter day all those years ago… I had a dream that he fell and met an enkelitsos, surrounded by shrouds of snow. When your father wrote us that first raven from Bear Island, I did not even know where my brother ended up, but I asked my father to send Aemond back my note asking if he has met the enkelitsos,” she looks towards you now, a peaceful look softening her face, “He wrote me back that he had.”

Then like her brother, that is all she gives to you, and you are still no closer to figuring out what that Valyrian word even means. You can guess, sure, but you would rather not. So once again you are just hoping it means something good rather than bad.

---

On the walk with the princess, the two of you somehow ended up at the training yard. 

It is bustling there. The air is heavy with the stench of sweat and grime. All of the men busy with practicing for the upcoming tournament later at noon, in celebration of the wedding taking place right after.

You catch sight of Forrest surrounded by four men, always the life of the party as his boisterous laugh and vibrant way of speaking enraptures their attention. There is a silver-haired fellow with your brother that could only be the coloring of someone of Valyrian blood, but his back is turned towards you to know who for sure. You know it’s not Aemond – for you know the sight of your prince’s back better than you know the back of your own hand – and it is certainly not Helaena’s husband-to-be. He stands tall and regal; reminiscent of Aemond, but not Aemond.

Could it be Aemond’s younger brother, Prince Daeron? 

You had not have the chance to meet the youngest and most loved prince. He had been savoring his time in King’s Landing with old friends he left behind for Oldtown, poised to head back with his uncle directly after the wedding feast.

Forrest then spies you from over the man’s shoulder, mouth spreading in a wide grin and jovially waving. “Little cub!” 

It has the silver-haired man turning around, and you see it is not the younger prince at all. This one is older than Aemond and even Prince Aegon, with roguish good looks. 

This has to be the King’s younger brother and Aemond’s uncle — the rogue prince, Daemon Targaryen. 

He follows behind your brother and Willam Stark, with two dark-haired boys in tow. The sly smirk that graces his face as he regards you and Princess Helaena has your companion pressing against your side closer.  

“The halls ablaze brings a ring of blue,” the Princess murmurs beside you.

You turn to her, confused. “What was that, my princess?”

Helaena shakes her head, just as Forrest steps up in front of the both of you.

“Princess Helaena,” Forrest bows so deep, his knee hits the ground. “Your presence must be the reason for this beautiful, clear sky.”

Though you roll your eyes, you are grateful that Forrest has a certain effect on people as you feel Helaena relax beside you. She even giggles, offering your brother a playful curtsy of her own.

“Aye, get up. Before they make you the jester for the feast tonight,” Willam Stark chides, lightly kicking Forrest’s bum.

Forrest stands, brushing off the dirt on his back and knee while throwing Willam a cheeky grin. “Doubt they will make the winner of the tourney the jester.” 

It was Willam’s turn to roll his eyes, not bothering to give Forrest a satisfaction of a reply for his cocky statement. Instead, Willam turns to Helaena and offers a well mannered bow, “My princess.”

Then to you, he takes you in a short yet tender hug. You squeeze him tight. For how long you’ve known Willam Stark – the younger brother of the Head of House Stark, Cregan Stark – and how close he is to your two oldest brothers, he is like family to you now too.

“I’m glad your travels went well, my lady,” Willam says after the two of you parted.

“I’m sorry yours did not go as smoothly, Willam,” you say, frowning. The Starks just arrived a day ago when they were supposed to arrive even earlier than your family. A brawl at an inn they had stayed at, Forrest told you last night after he helped the Stark men settle in. “At least you are here now, and safe. My brother was absolutely miserable without you.”

“Do not stroke his already huge ego, little cub.”

Both you and Willam snap at him a, “You’re one to talk.” and a “Says you?” – respectively. 

Forrest frowns deeply in mock hurt, just as someone comes in for his defence, “Even from the little I’ve seen Lord Forrest fight, I think his ego is deserved.”

“How you flatter me so, Prince Daemon,” Forrest says with a bright smile, making space for said prince and the other two behind him to join your little circle.

So it is him, you think to yourself as Daemon’s eyes find yours, a mischievous twinkle in them. From the little Aemond has talked about him, Aemond seems to respect the rogue prince as equally as he did not like him — both highly. 

You are not one to let others’ opinion form yours (except maybe when it is towards Prince Aegon) but when you give Prince Daemon a once over, you cannot stop the scowl from forming on your face. Because when you look down, what you see wrapped around Daemon’s grip is an all too familiar sword, a bear head crafted of silver signifying House Mormont at the pommel. You glare at his hand, like the heat of it will make him drop the precious sword so you can catch it. But fire cannot burn a dragon, and so you chose to glare daggers into his eyes instead.

If Daemon is confused or startled by the fire in your eyes, he does not let it show, the infuriating smirk still plastered on his face.

“I should give this back to you, Lord Forrest,” Prince Daemon says, handing over the Valyrian steel sword that had been in your family for generations back to your brother. “It is something treasured that should not be touched just by anyone.” He winks your way as he teases, “Isn’t that right, Lady Mormont?”

As you watch Forrest slide the sword back into its sheath by his side, you say with narrowed eyes now directed at your brother, “When Braeden passed over his inheritance of Longclaw over to you, he entrusted you not to just hand it over to anyone, all willy nilly… Even if it is towards a prince.”

Forrest huffs, clearly embarrassed to be scolded by his little sister in front of a group of people he respects. “Oh, come off it, little sister. Prince Daemon was merely looking. He has a Valyrian steel sword of his own, he does not need mine.” 

Daemon chuckles. “You never know. Perhaps I may need it in the future.” 

You glare at him again, not quite sure if he is joking or not. Forrest, on the other hand, takes it as a playful jest and laughs foolishly.

Once again, Helaena murmurs so quietly the strange phrase she had said before. The halls ablaze brings a ring of blue. Daemon overhears, titling his head in confusion at the young princess.

“How rude of me. My darling niece, I've not even greeted you — and on your wedding day,” Daemon says, taking Princess Helaena’s hand and places a dainty kiss on it. “Please forgive me.”

“It is alright, kepus,” Princess Helaena forgives, but she says it to the ground and is quick to snatch her hand away.

That is when you feel the weight of someone’s stare, and when you look, you lock eyes with the taller of the boys beside Prince Daemon. He jolts, his face turning red as he looks away – at the sky, the others around, the ground, everywhere, but on you.

He is quite handsome. You feel your cheeks heating up as well. You are not used to male attention, so when you get it, you do not know how to act. You wonder which House he is from–

“I hope today treats you well, Princess Helaena,” the younger and smaller of the two dark-haired boys says.

Helaena smiles, genuinely this time. “Thank you, Lucerys.”

That has you stilling, hearing the name. The boy looks so sweet, so young, so innocent, and yet… and yet.. 

“I also hope the same, princess,” the older one says to Helaena, and she nods sweetly to him. Then he takes a breath, puffs out his chest, and then turns to you with a boyish smile. “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Lady Mormont. I am Jacaerys Velaryon, but those close to me call me Jace.”

You felt traitorous, finding attraction towards the man who had a hand in traumatizing your best friend – the person you secretly claim to love – and left him blind in one eye. Even more so when he offers you his hand and you take it without question. 

Then, as he keeps his gaze on you from under his long and dark lashes, he brings your hand up slowly towards him, has you sucking in a breath as his lips—

An ironclad grip wraps itself around Jace’s wrist, freezing you both in place before his mouth can touch your skin. You glance to your side and gasp, meeting Aemond’s furious face, nostrils flared and mouth pulled back in a sneer. His glare is not on you, but on his nephew, and yet, you feel just as ashamed.

“He was just introducing himself, nephew,” Daemon says with a huffy laugh. “No need to get your smallclothes in a twist.”

If Aemond heard him, he does not show — choosing to tighten his grip harder, making Jace wince in pain as he drops your hand.

Aemond does not take his eye off Jace when he grabs for your hand and wraps an arm around his sister. “Come, my mother is looking for Helaena.”

Then he takes the two of you away, the stares of the men left behind burning your back.

--

After taking Princess Helaena back to her solar to get ready for the festivities of the day, Aemond whisks you away to the private library he calls his own. The whole time though, he did not speak one word to you, fuming and brooding to himself.

And in this room, where the two of you are alone, he keeps it up. Still fuming and brooding as he stands by the hearth, staring at the fire he had just kindled.

You watch him from where you are sat on the floor, back against the wall and the cat you had helped name sleeping peacefully on your lap. Having had enough of the silent treatment, you thump the back of your head against the wall and say out loud, “You’re angry with me.”

The silence is even more deafening now that you tried to break it. Aemond lets it simmer for a while. Then finally he answers, clipped and short in tone, “No.” 

He cannot even look your way when he says it. So how are you supposed to feel?

You are about to voice out this concern but then Aemond starts speaking again, “I’m angry with myself… for letting them get so close to you.” The fist he has clenched on his side hits the wall suddenly, startling you. “His filthy mouth almost touched you!”

It makes you frown, this side of the Targaryen prince. You don’t see it often, but when you do, it scares you sometimes. “Aemond, you’re being ridiculous. He was just being respectful.”

Aemond huffs out a mirthless laugh, finally turning towards you. “If you think he was doing that out of respect then you are more naive than I thought. Perhaps you are also blind to the many suitors I know you have, if that is the way you think.” He grins sardonically, aiming to be cruel and mean. “Although I did not think you would be one to fall to your feet for the lackluster charms of bastard boys.”

You hold his gaze, yours getting blurry with tears. Though before he can get the satisfaction of seeing a tear fall, you look down, threading your fingers through Snowball’s soft fur to help with your feelings of hurt. “That was mean, Aemond.” 

Towards me and your nephews , you wanted to say. You know that Aemond has very valid reasons for his hatred towards his nephews, but you remember what your father had said before — holding a grudge leaves nothing but more pain in its wake, poisoning your own soul . It was a lesson for Jorah and Forrest, after another tiff between them, but it stuck to you too.

But you hate the way your voice had trembled when you spoke earlier, so you let it lay in your mind.

You hear Aemond sigh, then there is a shadow falling over you. You look up just as he starts to bend down, both knees on the ground to level with you. His face sullen, and sorry. 

“I…” He takes a swallow, looking down at his hands he had on his lap. “I apologize deeply… for snapping at you when you did not deserve any heat of my ire. And for whisking you away in here without even asking… If you want to leave and go to the tourney instead, I will not stop you.”

You press your lips together, head shaking. Snowball is blinking up at you, awaking from his slumber, stretching his limbs in a yawn before curling up again, purring loud. You start to stroke his fur again as you tell Aemond, “I am content right here.”

“Are you sure? I’m sure Forrest would want you there, cheering for him.”

Smiling, you hum, “I’m sure he does… But I’ve spent my life watching him train all the time. It has become a bore. I do hope he wins though… he is determined to prove to Willam that he is the better warrior out of them…” You sigh, chuckling to yourself. “Those two are always butting heads… and swords.”

Aemond huffs out a laugh, smiling at each other, as if sharing a silent secret.

Then you take his hands from his lap, holding it in yours. It forces him to gaze into your eyes, his own violet eye sheepish. It is that soft look of his that has you confessing straight from your heart, “I did not come to King’s Landing for a tourney, or a wedding, or anything or anyone else.. I came to King's Landing for you, Aemond Targaryen. My best friend.”

Then you pull one hand away from him to pat the floor beside you, inviting him to sit with you.

“And I intend to spend all my time here with you, whether you like it or not.”

Aemond exhales a shuddering breath, as if he had been holding it the whole while you were speaking, then nods before he crawls and takes his place by your side, his hand still holding yours. 

From your other side, you pick up a book on the floor, the one you had picked out earlier from a shelf when he was all taciturn and morose, and hand it over to him. 

His eye widens as he recognizes the cover, “This is…” 

You grin at him. It is his favorite book. One that he talked to you about often but could have never brought to Bear Island because of how big and heavy it was. He had told you many times over the years that once you visit him, he will read it for you, over and over again, until you have it memorized, until you are sick of it. So…

You lean close to him, whispering so soft yet he feels the tickle of your breath on his lips, “Can you read for me, Aemond?”

Aemond wets his lips, glancing from your pretty mouth to your big doe eyes, not knowing he had been leaning closer and closer with every passing second. Just when you were about to flutter your eyelids close, Aemond catches himself and moves back, smiles your way, tender and true. 

Although a bit disappointed, he has you humming sweetly as you let him wrap his arm around your shoulder and pulls you tight towards him, getting comfortable in each other's company — like the two of you are little kids again in the common room of Mormont Keep – and he opens the book and reads.

--

It was impossible for Aemond to not lose track of time when your head is on his shoulder, your light laughter and clever commentary like music in his ears, and your heartbeat beating like one with his, lulling him deeper and deeper in that dreamland you two had created in the privacy of that library.

As the sun outside starts to set, the fire burning in the room gets brighter and brighter — but it is Snowball’s whining for food that has Aemond realizing that it is late. Really late.

The tournament is surely over and the wedding— 

Seven hells. The wedding.

Aemond shakes you, stirring you awake from the sleep you had just succumbed to moments ago. He feels awful for it, wishing he could just let you rest on his shoulder like he wants to, but he has a duty to perform. Always the good and honorable son.

You don’t protest or whine, grasping the situation quickly, and he takes your hand to pull you up, taking off with one another.

Luckily, the two of you manage to make it to the Great Hall in time. 

You catch sight of your brother-in-law close to the back, towering over the other guests, and you easily weave through the many bodies to slip beside your sister, her grin wide and happy to see you as she pulls you close with her arm around your hips.

Aemond, though, strides confidently down the middle of the hall, no one the wiser that he is late with how sure he carries himself. Except for his older brother, already standing in his place and waiting for his bride-to-be (wiggling his brows at Aemond when the younger passes him by, slyly making a gesture with one hand making a circle with his fingers and the other has two straighten out, pushing them towards the other) and his mother (clearly disappointed in Aemond’s unusual tardiness and confused as to why he wasn’t wearing the formal clothes she had his chambermaids lay out for him) — both to which he ignores, to take his place beside his younger brother, Daeron.

It is good that Daeron knows the time and place when to tease, can gauge how people are feeling, and so he just grins placidly at Aemond, before both their attention towards the opening of the huge double door of the Great Hall, the wedding about to begin.

---

The wedding was beautiful. Well, as beautiful as a loveless marriage between two siblings could be. Aegon was completely out of it, not bothering to hide how bored and listless he was, and Helaena was meek and quiet when she repeated her vows.  

As Aemond watches them walk back down the long hall together, he cannot help but feel pity – for the both of them.

Yes, Aegon may be a twat but it must be a terrible weight on his shoulder. That ever since he was young, this was what he was destined for, out of duty for his family and the crown. Perhaps it is the reason he grew up to be so horrible, why he drinks, why he is the way he is.

And Helaena – sweet and dear, Helaena – could have had a pick of anyone she wanted, but here she is, stuck with her rude and crass, older brother.

As the crowd starts to disperse, Aemond stands there, thinking about you. How you and him could have a wedding ceremony just like this when he finally tells you how he feels for you. It will be even more grand and gorgeous because that is what you deserve, and because he loves you.

Or… Would he also be forced into a political marriage, to create a stronger alliance with some House that would never feel like a family to him like yours have? Forced to wed someone he does not love, while you slip through his fingers, married to another?

He swallows the lump in his throat, shaking away the dreaded thought.

Aemond’s eye searches for you now, knowing one look at you will bring him back to the library, bring him back that peace of mind you and him created in there, away from all this. He thinks he spies you near the back, but he quickly loses sight of you in the masses of guests heading out the Great Hall to get ready for the celebratory feast. 

Though before he can move to really look for you, his mother grabs his arm and leads him to the back doors of the Great Hall, chastising to get properly dressed. Aemond looks back over his shoulder and sees the hall almost completely empty. He frowns, guessing he’ll have to wait to see you again.

---

After the wedding ceremony, you head back to your guest chamber, the swarm of guests leaving the Great Hall did not allow you to do anything else. Your sister accompanies you so the two of you can get ready for the dinner celebration together. 

Dorothea has you sitting at the vanity, brushing careful strokes into your hair, making it shiny and pretty for the night. Your eyes are closed, humming in content. You miss this, it is like when you were little girls. You’d put up more of a fight back then but now…

Opening your eyes, you place a hand over Dorothea’s, stopping her mid-brush to find your gaze through the looking glass in front of you. “Come back to Bear Island with us. It’s been awfully lonely without you around.”

Dorothea looks down, hiding her smile, putting the hairbrush down to start braiding your hair in the way the pretty ladies in King’s Landing do. “I never thought I’d hear this from you. You’ve always been closer to our brothers than with me.”

“That’s not true!” You protest, shaking your head. Dorothea tuts and forces you to still. “I may jest with them more, but you have always been my favorite.”

Dorothea chuckles at that. “You are awfully bold tonight.”

Pouting, you whine in a way that only a little sister can get away with, “Can’t a girl just say what is in her heart without being questioned so much so?”

“Then tell me… Have you told the prince how you felt about him?”

This time, it is you who looks away from Dorothea’s gaze through the mirror. “I did not come here to burden him with my feelings.”

Your sister sighs. “You will not be burdening him with your feelings. Don't you see the way he looks at you?”

You bite down at your lower lip, not sure what hurts more – how your sister is pulling your hair back so tight that your face stretches with it or the hollow feeling in your chest. “I do… but… you were at the wedding. The princess and prince hold no love for one another, not even familial love… And Aemond… he is also the son of the King of the Seven Kingdoms. In line for the Iron Throne… We— it’s not a match, the two of us. As much as I want it to be.”

Dorothea frowns, letting your hair free to walk around you to kneel in front of you. She takes you by the shoulders to make you look her in the eyes, properly this time. “Don’t say that, little cub.”

You sniff, holding back the incoming tears. “Our house… it’s… We’re not…” You lick your lips, trying again, “What will they gain from letting Aemond marry me?”

Dorothea squeezes your shoulders in reassurance, then says, “They will gain a wonderful daughter-in-law. One who is smart, and strong, and stupidly stubborn, but lovable nonetheless. One that adores their son so much and looks at him as if he puts the stars in the sky.”

You manage to smile at her words, albeit one that is watery and sad. 

“I don’t think that is enough,” you whisper to her, voice trembling for the second time that day.

Dorothea purses her lips together. Her silence an admission that you may be right.

---

When it came time to head to the Queen’s Ballroom for the wedding feast, it is like you and your sister did not have that talk at all, laughing together as you walk hand-in-hand. Following behind you two are your Lord Father, Lord Grover Tully, and his two grandsons, Elmo Tully, and Dorothea’s husband, Tobias Tully.

You are so content with your sister’s company that you do notice all the handsome lords that make eyes at you when you pass them by. Instead, you are more entranced by the delicious food filling the many tables, taking your pick and then offering a piece to your sister and father whenever you find something so mouthwateringly good. 

You were in the process of popping a stuffed olive into your mouth when someone chose to slide up behind, shouting your name and startling you to choke on the darn thing. 

“You idiot,” Dorothea hisses at her twin brother as she pats on your back to aid dislodge the olive stuck in your throat. 

“I’m sorry, I did not– Are you alright, little cub?!” Forrest exclaims with worry, smacking his palm on your back as well. Finally, you cough out the olive, and thank the Gods for Dorothea, as she slides a small plate in front of you – making the sticky and wet olive fall on it instead of in your hand.

While Dorothea berates her twin, Forrest keeps asking if you were really alright. You wave him off with a laugh.

“Are you sure? Really sure?”

“Yes, Forrest. I’m quite sure,” you say once more with a playful roll of your eyes.

“Good,” Forrest sighs. “I was quite worried… Also for the fact I didn’t see you at the Tourney.”

“I was… Elsewhere. But I heard you got second! Congratulations!”

Forrest pouts now. “Thank you, but… I wanted to ask for your favor. I had to settle for Dorothea’s and I think that is why I did not win.”

Dorothea glares at him and snaps, “I can hear you, you know?”

Forrest throws a cheeky grin her way that has her eyes rolling, turning her attention towards her husband instead.

“But are you sure you are alright?” Forrest asks as he takes a careful hold of your hands, voice low and firm so only the two of you can hear. “I’m asking seriously this time… That scene in the training yard with Ae and his nephews… I’ve never seen him like that before.”

You squeeze your brother’s hands reassuringly. “It is alright. He has apologized.”

Forrest hums, frowning, but takes your word for it. Then he straightens up, happy-go-lucky Forrest again. “Then will you join me to sup tonight? Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra asked me to their table. They were quite impressed with my skills at the tourney. And well…” He whispers the next part, a teasing smirk on his lips, “There is a certain Velaryon boy that was quite taken by you, and they want you to join them as well.”

Before you can even accept or refuse, Dorothea nudges Forrest aside to wrap her arm around yours, as if to claim you for the night. “Nuh-uh. Our sister is to sit with me and my Lord-Husband tonight,” then to you she asks giddily, “Do you remember Jeremy Strong? Ser Fallon Strong’s second youngest? Well, ever since you visited Riverrun for my wedding, he had been asking about you and well, before, with the whole… situation, I let him down easy. But now after our talk…”

“A Strong? Over a Velaryon Prince for our lovely sister?” Forrest scoffs quietly. “You are a terrible matchmaker, Thea.”

“Titles and Family Names should not matter. What matters is a good man. You should know that, dear Forrest, with all your canoodling with the Stark —”

“I’m sorry to disappoint you both–” Your father cuts in, smiling fondly at his children before standing at your side. “But our little cub and I have been formally invited to dine with the King and the Queen tonight… And that is an invitation we simply cannot refuse.” 

Then without another word, your father takes you by the arm, leading you away from your siblings that are as dumbfounded as you are.

---

Aemond is running late again. So late, in fact, that his mother has Daeron knocking on his door to chaperone him to the feast. 

It puts Aemond in a foul mood. Or perhaps, fouler than the one he was in before, when he was all alone in his bedchamber, stewing in dreadful thoughts about the future – the reason he is running late in the first place.

Aemond waves off Daeron in a way that could also be interpreted as a more polite way of Aemond flipping him off. The youngest prince just shrugs, and follows closely behind his older brother as they make their way to the ballroom together.

Aemond thought that maybe once they reach the ballroom that he’ll be free to mingle, be free to find you. But of course it cannot be that easy, because what they find when they arrive is Ser Criston, waiting for them near the entrance of the ballroom to lead them straight to the main table of the room. 

With not many options on where to sit now that almost all the guests have taken a seat at a table, Aemond plops down on the chair beside his mother, all sulky and surly. 

Aegon is to his right, takes one look at the One-Eyed Prince’s face and laughs, hard – clearly already in his cups. Aemond simply shifts his body slightly more to the left to ignore him. 

Only two empty chairs remain at their table beside Prince Daeron, who is sitting directly across Aemond. At first, Aemond thought it would be for his half-sister and heir to the throne, Princess Rhaenyra, and her uncle-husband, Prince Daemon, but he spies them at another table with Rhaenyra’s bastard children, and Princess Rhaenys and her granddaughters. It was probably by his mother’s arrangement to not sit them at their table — if it were up to his father, they would be by his side. His mother – though petty at times – would rather not ruin her two beloved childrens’ wedding day and end it with another huge family feud.

So who would be sitting on those empty chairs? From looking around, Aemond sees all his immediate family already sat. Could it be for the twin knights, Ser Arryk and Erryk Cargyll, the former being the champion of the Tournament, or maybe –

Suddenly, the Queen rises, beaming with joy. “Our guest of honor! It is lovely to see you two!”

Aemond glances over to who his mother is speaking to and what he sees has his eye widening, body moving on its own as he is standing up too.

Because it is you, standing right there at the other side of the table beside your father, and looking like an absolute daydream in that dress — no, the dress, the one he gifted you for your sixteenth name day. 

Aemond had often dreamt about you wearing the cream colored dress ever since he got a look at it – how lovely the color would look against your skin, the way your dainty collarbones and shoulders will be on display due to the off the shoulder sleeves, and the elegant way you would move around him in it.

But, as you often proved, dreams could never compare to the brilliant reality of you. 

He can’t keep his eye off of you. You have completely stolen his breath away — and his heart, once again.

He can tell you were very nervous, with the way your fingers twist together in front of you. But then your eyes meet his and you are exhaling out air as you stand up a little straighter, more sure of yourself.

Aemond smiles to himself. It is nice to know that he gives you as much ease as you give him.

“Sorry for the tardiness, your Grace,” your father apologizes, bowing his head at the Queen and the King. 

“It’s alright, Lord Mormont,” The Queen shakes off with a kind smile. “The invitation was quite last minute, so I thank you for gracing us with your presence.”

Then she puts a hand on Aemond’s arm, a gesture for him to stay put, before she rounds the table to greet you and your father.

Queen Alicent talks to your father first, thanking him once again for taking care and bringing back Aemond safely all those years ago, and for always welcoming him to your home. Then King Viserys pipes up from the seat over where the Queen had been, too weak to stand up to greet your father properly, but your father leans over the table to shake his hand, and they start to converse as if old and very close friends. 

That has the Queen’s attention flicking to you, and she smiles at you in a way that seems like she is about to burst into tears. Then you are being pulled into her tight embrace.

“It is so wonderful to finally meet you,” the Queen says softly into your ear. “Thank you for being such a good friend to our dearest Aemond.” 

Alicent pulls back, but her hands are now on your arms. “I have heard so many wonderful things about you.”

You glance down bashfully. “Thank you, your Grace. I heard many a great things about you too.”

Neither of you hear Aegon’s comment, “Well, of course. Aemond, the mommy’s boy,” or how said ‘mommy’s boy’ kicks his shin from underneath the table.

Alicent then looks you over. Even if her stare is anything but scrutinizing, you still felt very self-conscious. The Queen is the very definition of perfection, and you cannot help but think of all your flaws in that very moment. Is your hair all in place? Is there food stuck in your teeth? What will she think about that scar you have on your arm from sparring with Jorah when you were young?

“You are such a darling girl,” Queen Alicent declares. “So pretty…” She then gasps, “Is this the dress Aemond and I have gotten made for you?”

You nod in confirmation. “It is. Thank you graciously, your grace.”

Alicent sighs, head shaking as she smiles at you and squeezes your arms. “Lovely…”

Then she breaks away fully, gesturing at the empty chairs for you and your father, “Come, sit! Sit!”

And when you take a seat, that is when Aemond finally sits down too. 

You share a smile with your best friend, before turning to your left to greet his younger brother. Prince Daeron gives you a handsome grin and takes your hand to shake. But before you can take your hand back, he leans in close and murmurs hotly in your ear, “I would kiss your hand, but I heard whispers about what my dear brother did earlier to our nephew… And I’d rather keep my head, no matter how absolutely divine you are.”

You are a flush when he pulls away, the youngest prince silently laughing to himself, and your prince at the other side of the table narrows his eye in question at the exchange.

The main course of the dinner arrives and soon the Queen’s Ballroom is alive with joyous laughter and utensils scraping on plates. You are slow to eat and drink, afraid if you are not careful, you will stain your pretty dress with something you cannot get off of it. This also means you are a lot more sober than anyone else around you – even Aemond, who does not drink much or often. 

He is so relaxed and happy, often looking towards you with that sweet smile on his face. 

From beside him, his mother seems quite tipsy as well. She is staring at you, her chin in the palm of her hand.

“I apologize, Lady Mormont, I can’t seem to stop myself from looking at you,” Queen Alicent confesses, head tilting with a sigh. “You look even more gorgeous than that stunning painting Aemond has of you in his –”

“Mother!” Aemond sharply barks, the tip of his ears immediately burning bright red.

Maybe you are not as sober as you thought, because, what?

“Painting…? What painting?” You ask, confused. 

Alicent is silent now, realizing she had blurted out something her son did not want you to know.

“Oh, right! That one!” Aegon exclaims, as if suddenly remembering. “The one that Aemond surely jerks it—”

The oldest prince groans, doubling over. The one responsible does not look sorry at all but just miserable now, his fingers pressed to his temple.

Luckily for Aemond’s (and Aegon’s) life, your father had gotten up moments before to chat with Forrest at his table.

“It is quite life-like!” Princess Helaena gleefully adds on from beside her brother-husband. “It looks exactly like you!”

Befuddled even more, your brows crease closer together. You try to get your best friend’s attention to make things a bit clearer, “Aemond..?”

But the one-eyed Prince is so embarrassed that he refuses to acknowledge you — leaving you in turmoil for the rest of the dinner. 

---

Even when the plates start getting cleared away, Aemond still does not say one word to you. 

Prince Daeron tries to ease the tension, making small talk with you about things that his brother could easily input a thought or two in. But Aemond doesn’t take the bait, not even then Daeron kicks him from under the table.

Although Prince Daeron is quite nice to talk to, you still felt very out of place – especially with how Aemond is ignoring you. 

Every passing second, your smile feels more and more forced – until you cannot do it anymore, choosing to stare at your hands on your lap instead, making yourself small. 

Seeing you like that has Prince Daeron huffing and shaking his head at the stupidity of his brother, and he decides to take matters into his own hands. He stands then and turns towards you, “Lady Mormont, will you honour me with a dance?”

With his jaw clenching at the question posed, Aemond feels your gaze turning to him, but he keeps his steady on the wall. You stare at his profile for another moment or two, then resign yourself to the fact that you are not going to get anything out of him – maybe not even for the rest of the night. So with a tight smile, you take Prince Daeron’s hand. “Of course, my Prince.”

As the youngest prince leads you out to where the other guests are dancing, Prince Aegon laughs out loud when Aemond furiously inhales deeply. “Seven hells, you’re an idiot.”

And for once in his life, Aemond thinks that Aegon might be right.

---

Aemond is watching you now, once again cannot take his eye off of you.

How can he when you are laughing so prettily, smiling freely, spinning around and around, and enchanting everyone with every twirl of your dress?

But he can’t even bring himself to find a little bit of joy for your happiness, not when the ones giving it to you are the admirers after admirers asking for your hand to dance, tripping over themselves to have even a morsel of your precious time.

Aemond is wild with jealousy, seething as he has Ser Criston murmuring in his ear who each one was.

Lord Thorin Tyrell. Ser Jonas Lannister. Lord Thomas Vance. Lord Alwyn Swyft. 

And the one who currently has his arms around you now, making you beam from ear to ear, is Lord Jeremy Strong .

It’s nauseating, but at least it is not that bastard, Jacaerys. He has noticed his nephew making eyes at you all night. But he might not be as daft as he looks because he keeps his distance. Maybe what happened that afternoon still burned in his mind.

Good, Aemond sneers in his head, glaring at where Jace leans against a bannister, moping.

That is when Aemond realizes he is doing the same pitiful thing. 

Feeling sorry for himself as he lets others get what he wants. It’s pathetic.

Having had enough, Aemond stands and straightens out his cufflinks before stalking his way to you.

As he gets nearer, he overhears the conversation you are having with the Lord leading you around the dancefloor.

“I did not mean to offend you, Jeremy. If I had known you were the one that made the dish, I wouldn’t have—”

“Wouldn’t have… so blatantly said it was revolting in front of me?”

“That was not the word I used! I just said it was bad!”

“Well, if it pleases you to hear, my Lady… I, uh, have gotten better at it.”

“...Truly?”

“Don’t– Don’t look so doubtful! Maybe I can, um, show you some time, how does breakfast–”

Aemond has to refrain his eye from rolling. Instead, he takes an interjecting step towards the two of you, his looming presence intense enough to halt you completely from moving even an inch.

When your eyes round at him, he simply smirks.  “Lady Mormont, I believe I am owed a dance.”

You glance at Lord Strong, smile apologetic as you take your hands off him, a faint thank you for the dance out of your lips.

Aemond does not even spare a single glance at your partner for the whole interaction, his eye only on you. He hears the Lord murmur a low my prince out of respect, but Aemond doesn’t acknowledge it, just overtakes the Lord’s place in front of you, placing his hands possessively on your hips. 

Although you put your hands on Aemond’s arms – thus accepting his invitation to dance – your gaze follows the retreating back of your previous dancing partner, a frown worrying your features. Then your fierce glare is on him, “That was pretty rude of you, don’t you think, my Prince?”

He should be happy that’s what he got out of me after he dare thinks he could just court you so easily at my home, in front of me, Aemond thinks uncivilly , Vhagar is itching to burn something alive.

But it would be unwise to say all that out loud, so he just presses his mouth together and holds his chin up a little higher, as if to let you know that what he is going to say next is not at all genuine, “I apologize for my very impertinent behavior towards Lord Strong. It shall not happen again.”

Your look of exasperation does not falter, but you do not move away, not even when Aemond pulls you to him a little more closer.

“I do also apologize though, for how I treated you at the dinner table,” Aemond murmurs, this time sincere. He takes a swallow, frowning. “I was… uncomfortable with some things that came to light. I could not face you to preserve my own selfish pride, and for that, I am truly sorry.”

You cannot help it, you are too soft for him. Your anger just dissipates away. Your hand skims down his arm, comforting him as you sway slowly together with the music from the band, “You’ve been apologizing to me quite a lot today, my prince.”

Aemond hums, head bowing low, his breath tickling your cheek when he speaks, “I intend to make it up to you, enkelitsos.” 

From beneath your lashes, you peer at his hungry gaze, your nervous voice shyly asking, “And how will you do that, my prince?”

And again, as if gravity is simply forcing the two of you to each other, the distance between you and the prince closes in more. 

Too close to be appropriate in a hall full of nobles, with eyes that see and mouths that talk. 

From the main table, Queen Alicent is one of those eyes and mouth. Fondly, she leans to her husband to comment, “Aemond looks so smitten.”

But beside the jovially laughing King, the man with the gold hand pinned on his chest watches too – disapproval strong in the lines of his face.

---

With the Bedding Ceremony underway, it is easier for Prince Aemond to sneak you into his bedchamber. Still, if the two of you were caught, the punishment will be harsh. But he has one goal in mind and he intends to see it through – to show you the painting that caused quite a stir at dinner.

“I promise you it is not as strange as you think it is,” Aemond says, his hand holding yours as he leads you carefully yet swiftly through the halls of Maegor’s Holdfast.

You huff, pressing your back against the wall when Aemond does, watching as the prince peers around the corner. “Do not put words into my mouth, Aemond! I do not think it is strange. I just want to know what it is!”

“It’s–” he stops, then he is tugging you to move again, across the hall and into a door that leads to a stone staircase. As you climb the steps with him, Aemond continues, “Well, you’ll see soon. We’re almost there.”

Your heartbeat is beating so fast at the thrill of all the sneaking around. But as exhilarating as it is, you were delighted to finally be pulled into the safety of Aemond’s bedchamber, to allow the pulsing in your veins to finally calm and to breathe normally again.

Or at least you try… Because it is then when it comes to you that you are in Aemond’s bedchamber, alone with the prince.

You don't know how you do it, but you are the perfect image of serenity when you glance around the room to take everything in.

Nothing there was really surprising to you. He keeps his own bedchamber the same way he kept the guest chamber that is his in Mormont Keep – pristine, and not a thing out of place. But there are things around that make your heart sing with delight –  the little gifts you and your family have given the prince throughout the years. 

The long black leather gloves that Jorah made, with an embroidered red of the House Targaryen sigil by you on the cuffs, hanging on the handle of his armoire. Wooden Cyvasse pieces crafted by Braeden on a fancy marbled Cyvasse board — reminding you that Aemond still hasn’t beaten your oldest brother yet. The leather ball by the foot of his bed, the one that he kicked in the goal and earned a victorious win with Forrest in a game of mob football with the other kids on the island. A very amateur drawing you made of you and him riding Vhagar in a golden frame on the bedside table. A leather bound journal on his desk, gifted by your mother and father, looking well-loved and well-used. And many, many more.

He keeps it intertwined with his other things, as if they are as precious as the golds, jewels, and all the other clearly more valuable items he has.

And that is when you see it, hanging on the wall opposite of his bed, surrounded by the golden ornate frame, is you — brought to life on a canvas by talented strokes of rich oil paints. 

“This… Dorothea painted this,” you inform Aemond – who stands in the center of the room with his hand nervously clasped behind his back – as if he already did not know. 

“Yes, she did.”

As you continue to stare at the painting in disbelief, you start to recount, “I… I remember this day so clearly. She made me sit in her room for hours and hours – seven to be exact. Believe me, I counted. And then after she was finished… The next day, it was just… gone . I was mad at her for weeks. I couldn’t believe how she wasted my time, and she cannot even explain how it disappeared. But now—” You look at him, a mirthful smile on your lips, “She sent it to you.”

Aemond nods slow, taking steps to meet you by your side. “When I couldn’t travel to visit you, I was slowly succumbing to a state of dep—” he clears his throat, and tries again, “Deep discontent. I just wanted to see you, but I could not. So I sent Dorothea a letter in hopes that she can provide me with a picture of you. I just wanted something small but what she sent back was… Well, I am grateful, but I asked her not to tell you about it. Not even the part where I wanted a picture in the first place.” 

“Oh Gods,” you mutter, slapping a palm on your forehead. You remember that too. When you start to laugh, Aemond looks down at you with confusion.

“I thought you were writing those letters to Dorothea because you were courting her,” you say in between fits of giggles. So all those days you spent crying in bed were all for nothing? How your heart only truly mended when you watched Dorothea make her way down the aisle because that means that Aemond could not have her anymore? You feel so utterly silly. 

There is a grimace on Aemond’s face that makes you laugh even harder. “She was so secretive with them, so I did not know what else to think!”

“That’s ridiculous,” Aemond says, as if you are offending him. “I could never look at Dorothea in that way.”

“And why not? ” Now it’s your turn to be offended, on behalf of your sister. “Everyone is in love with Dorothea! She’s so pretty, and clearly very talented, and so polite, and—”

The way Aemond takes your hands in his has you shutting up your prattling. 

The prince shifts closer, your hands intertwined together over his heart, his gaze heavy on you as his forehead press against yours.

“Because I…” he breathes, and his mouth – his sinfully alluring mouth, crafted so prettily by the Gods – so close to yours, only breadths away. It is hard to tear your attention away from the way his tongue peeks out of to wet his lips, but you do, only to witness the beauty of his violet eye just as he confesses, “I’ve only ever had eyes for you.”

And you don’t even know who makes the first move. It might have been you. It might have been him. But his mouth is on yours, and yours are on his, and that is all that matters. 

Aemond’s lips are as heavenly as you dreamt them to be. So soft yet firm, and he knows the right pressure to apply with them to have you moaning against his mouth. 

You feel his smile, and he murmurs how delectable you are before his tongue laves along the seam of your lips, asking for permission. You give in to him, also craving for more. 

As the kiss deepens, you pull your hands away from his to wrap around his strong shoulders, and he places his own greedy on your hips, gripping tight onto the willowy fabric of your dress. You feel like you should be embarrassed about the needy, whimpering sounds you are making, but you’re not. 

Aemond starts moving now, pulling you back with him, though his hungry lips stay attacking your lips. Although your own kisses are unpracticed, it fills you with some strange sort of satisfaction that you have the prince panting in your mouth, desperate for more. His mouth so hot you are getting delirious.

“Aemond…” you gasp, so sweetly, when you part for an intake of air. The prince growls, nipping along the underside of your jaw. “Please…”

You don’t even know what you are asking for.

He turns you around, so sudden it has you gasping and grasping onto the footboard of his bed. His lips are quick to latch back on your skin, mouthing down the side of your neck while his fingers unties the lacing on the back of your dress. With every undoing of the silk ribbon, the bustier gets looser, causing your breast to spill out, the heat of Aemond’s palm on one of them without a moment’s delay, squeezing. 

Your whole body is lit ablaze, burning hotter and hotter as more and more of you is becoming exposed to Aemond’s eye as your dress starts to fall – his mouth now kissing down your spine, following the fabric down –  and drops onto a heap on the tiled floor.

Then Aemond is straightening up, his hands tender on you, skimming across your shoulders, putting your nerves at ease under his touch. 

“Gevie… ” He whispers hotly in your ear, his fingers now in your hair, undoing the braids and letting the strands free. You know that one, gevie, a word he taught you after you had wanted to compliment Vhagar. 

Beautiful . 

Your eyes flutter shut, humming under his gentle ministration. 

And that is when you feel him, hard, pressed against your lower back, rubbing onto you. You bite down your bottom lip, suppressing a wanton moan.

Once he is done with undoing all the intricate braids in your hair, he is turning you around again to face him, this time more gentle. You are a flush, his eye roaming on your bare body – completely and wholeheartedly just for him.

You don’t know how or why, but you don’t feel self conscious at all under the heated gaze of your prince. If anything, you might be bolder, standing on the tip of your toes to press another desperate kiss on Aemond’s lips.

“I want you so much,” he tells you; voice low, breath heavy, and eye full of lust. 

Your lashes flutter at him, smiling wide as you cannot contain the happiness inside from bursting out. “And I want just as much. Perhaps, more.”

He takes your hand, his grinning lips grazing the knuckles. “I don’t think that is possible.”

Then he leads around to the side of the bed, lays you down with such care, your head landing gently on the rich duvet. He does not join you, not yet, still standing beside the bed frame.

You call for him, desire burning between your thighs. 

What is he waiting for?

You sit up your elbows to watch him, watching you as he wordlessly unfastens the sashed belt around his waist and unbuttons the form-fitting leather tunic he is wearing, stripping both off unceremoniously. Your mouth gapes open at the sight of his marbled and broad chest, marveling at how gorgeously toned it is, defined by years and years of special training. 

There is a cocky smirk on his lips as he starts to unlace his breeches. His ego inflating as you eye the thickness of him with a hard swallow. He takes himself in his hand while he kicks away the rest of his clothes – now as naked as you are.

He crawls onto the bed now, his knee sliding in between your thighs, his mouth on yours again – he simply cannot get enough. 

You cannot not think straight, you need him so much it makes you dizzy. You need to ground yourself, so you touch his chest, feel the solid planes of it, his heartbeat beating fast underneath your palm. It makes you feel so safe. Aemond makes you feel so safe.

Aemond’s hands are roaming too, worshiping every inch of your body as if you are the altar he prays to. Fondling your breast, tweaking your nipples until they harden, clutching at your hips and your thighs so hard that it will leave bruises…  And then his fingers – your heartbeat speeding up so — his fingers trail along the juncture of your thigh, so close to where you want him most. 

You moan wantonly, throwing your head back and baring your neck for him. Without even noticing, you also part your thighs further apart, allowing him easier access.

“Needy ,” he tuts with a huffed out chuckle, teeth biting to leave a mark on the underside of your jaw. Aemond looks down to where his hand is, exhaling out a shaky breath as fingers slide closer to the dewy folds of your precious cunt. He groans when he finds you dripping wet, and it’s because of him. All for him. “So bloody needy.”

His fingers make a mess of you, rubbing so firmly yet tenderly at your sensitive clit. You’ve done this to yourself before, but somehow the way Aemond does it feels different. Better . He has your hips moving on its own, your mouth crying out his name, and your cunt clenching, begging to be filled.

Then a finger starts to press inside you — thicker than your own, thicker than what you are used to. 

Aemond sees how you squeeze your eyes shut, and he stills. “Are you alright?”

Your eyes flutter open to Aemond’s face of concern, and you quickly nod, clutching a hand on his arm. “Yes, please keep going.”

He watches you carefully for a moment, to make sure this is what you really want. When he deems your words true, he starts to move his hand again, his finger slowly sliding in and out of your entrance, coming out wetter and wetter each time. You start to pant softly, licks of pleasure rolling through you.

He eases another digit in, scissoring the two apart inside of you. You bite your lip, hips lifting off the bed at the slightly uncomfortable feeling. But it doesn’t take long for the fuzzy, good feeling to take over you again. So much so that when he presses his thumb on your clit again, you start to tremble, whimpering as you peak for the first time, your sweet juices spilling over his fingers and onto the sheet beneath you.

“You’re so good for me, enkelitsos,” your prince praises, has you preening underneath him as he places a kiss on each of your eyelids, the tip of your nose, and your lips. He then sits up on his knees, palming his hard cock again. Still trying to catch your breath, you watch in fascination as he spreads the precum beading at the tip along the rest of him. “Think you can take me now?”

Although extremely nervous, you find yourself nodding at Aemond.

You have had lessons about this before, about the deflowering, from your mother, your septa, and even Dorothea, but never in great detail. You do not know what to expect.

But what you do know is that Aemond will treat you right.

He bends over you, one hand gripping his cock while the other is beside your head, pressed against the bed to keep him from falling on top of you. He teases the tip of him on your still sensitive nub, making you shiver, sliding himself up and down along your folds to build up anticipation. But his set on torturing you has the same affect on himself. Not when you feel so warm and good and was so tight around just two of his fingers.

Aemond curses under his breath, unable to put it off anymore. He guides his cock to the entrance of your cunt, pushing inside with a low, impassioned groan.

You are so bloody tight, it feels too good. But he knows you need to adjust to his size, the rapid clenching of your walls letting him know you are trying to get used to his cock.

He sees you blinking away the tears. It hurts, but not as much as you thought it would. 

“Tell me when you’re ready,” Aemond murmurs as his head falls, pressing his face into the crook of your neck, finding comfort there as he inhales the scent of you. 

And in that moment, you knew you are so full of love for him, snuffling as you nudge your nose into his hair. “I’m ready, Aemond.”

He peers at you, his hand finding yours, intertwining together as he starts to move.

He fills you to the brim in one slow thrust, hilting as his hips knock against yours. You are stretched tight around his throbbing cock, the pushing and pulling building up something fierce inside of you. He buries himself deep inside, over and over again, slamming into you like a man possessed. 

The heat of his mouth is burning like the dragon he is, open above yours, hovering and close enough to touch, but they don’t — only moaning your passion for each other.

He pulls you up suddenly, still deep inside you. Has you sitting on his lap, hands gripping on your hips as he makes you move, making you bounce on his cock. He sets the pace, and you are completely under his control, letting him with no regret.

“Ae!” You cry out, feeling him hit so deep, the head of his cock probably already breaching the deepest parts of you. Your arms are wrapped tight around him, tears streaming from your eyes, all out of pleasure and none out of pain. 

“Peak for me, my love,” Aemond demands, an animalistic growl rumbling his throat. “Come all over my cock as I spill my seed inside you.”

And you do. Breaking again just as his cum fills you up, just like he promised.

He kisses you deeply one last time before you are both flopping on his bed, completely boneless and aching with exhaustion.

You lay there for some time in your lover’s embrace, completely content in the silence save for the evening out of both your heavy breathing. 

Is it possible to be this happy? You must have saved a million lives in your past life for just this moment. You cannot believe how lucky you are to fall in love with your best friend.

To have someone you love everything about.

“Eye…” You say softly, but it still breaks the quiet between you. Aemond hums in question, his fingertips absentmindedly trailing over your skin, just to feel you. You roll to your side to look at him, his hand gripping your hip when you do so. “Eye… you only have an eye for me. Earlier you said eyes , during your confession. But, you only have one …”

That has Aemond spluttering, mouth opening and closing in sheer disbelief. 

And then he is laughing, fingers digging into your sides, tickling you into a fit of giggles. “You cheeky, little…”

As you two laugh, you grab onto his face to press a sweet kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he is not laughing anymore, and neither are you. You lick your lips, staring into his violet eyes, “But this one eye.. It is the beautiful eye I fell in love with… When you opened them to look at me that first night.”

Aemond’s eye waters as he lets out a shaky breath, pressing a kiss on your inner wrist. Then his hand is moving behind his head, unclasping his eyepatch. 

It has you holding your breath. You have not seen Aemond without his eyepatch since the first time he landed on Bear Island. So why is he now taking it off?

As Aemond lets it fall onto his hand, what you see has you gasping softly.

For it is your sapphire there, taking the place of his missing eye.

You reach your hand up, running your thumb tenderly along the bags underneath it. Aemond hums happily, nuzzling his cheek against your palm.

“I keep it here because I… I always want you with me,” he declares. “The woman who has my heart wholeheartedly and for evermore.”

You say his name, so full of fondness. He kisses you fiercely, puts all his feelings in it that he cannot put into words anymore. 

“I want to be selfish now,” you say against his lips, already dreading the thought of leaving him in the morrow. “I want you to write to me everyday. I do not even care if you have nothing at all to say.”

“I will do that, enkelitsos. And many more.”

“Like what?”

Aemond simply smirks, before he is descending kisses down your body, your hand threading into his hair and pulling as his tongue spreads over you. 

---

Prince Aemond sends you off a day later with a tight embrace – stealing your kisses in every shadowed corner of the Keep as the two of you made your way to your father waiting at the gates – and you are barely even out King’s Landing but he is already in his bedchamber, writing you a raven that will be waiting for you when you arrive back home. He will keep good on his promise, writing to you every day. Greedy to steal more of your heart with every prose he writes about how much he loves you, how he cannot wait to see you again, and more salacious things that will make your whole body heat up.

With the first letter done, he makes his way to the rookery. 

When he steps inside, he almost collides into the Hand of the King, his grandfather, Otto Hightower. 

“My apologies, grandfather,” Aemond says, stepping aside to let him pass. 

“It is alright, my prince,” his grandfather says, about to take his leave. 

“Important business?” Aemond cannot help but ask, stopping the Hand on his track. He does not see his grandfather at rookery much — or at all, if he thinks about it. He usually has his serving boys deliver his scrolls to the rookery Maesters. So whatever he is here for is probably important enough for him to hand it off himself. 

“Yes, you can say that…” Otto says with a stiff smile, glances over his shoulder and giving the Maester a solid nod — a silent understanding between them. He then pats his grandson’s arm before walking out the open door. 

Aemond is used to his grandfather’s taciturn ways, so he lets him be, turning to the Maester with a grin. “A raven to Bear Island, if you have the time.”

---

Aemond waits, and waits, and waits. Several moons pass, many letters written, and the couriers traveling back and forth… Still, he gets nothing back at all from you.

And so like the harsh temperament of the North, he fears you have completely iced him out of your life.

[jazziejax]

The Challenge

Pairing- BlackOC! X Challengers Cast

Summary- moments between Orion O’Connor and the Challengers cast that the people loved

Warnings- swear words, flirtatious between costars

Author’s Note- This sucks raccoon ass, it’s 2am, and I haven’t written in a very long time so cut me some slack, I beg you! I’m gonna write for Challengers at some point but I’m waiting because I want to write a series and I’m gonna need it on streaming services to do that(because I already paid to see it twice). But I’ll probably write some one-off things for you guys. Sorry for any spelling errors and grammar mistakes. As I said, it’s 2am.

Word Count- 2,686

“So, I have to ask.” The woman interviewer said, mainly looking over at Orion. Said girl’s expression went from calm to suspicious as she turned her head and side eyed the woman. The interviewer was about to open her mouth to speak again before Orion lightly gasped as she faced forward again.

“Let me guess.” She stated, leaning forward in her seat. Everyone paused, waiting for the girl to speak. “You’re gonna ask if we’re married.” She said, her left index finger motioning between her and the British man next to her. The woman’s mouth fell open a little bit as she stared at the brown woman across from her.

“How’d you know that?” She asked, genuine surprise in her voice. Orion slightly nodded as she adjusted herself in her seat. She crossed her right leg over her left and her body was slightly tilted to where she leaned Josh’s way. “Everyone has the same look in their eyes before they ask.” She shrugged. The tension of such a question could be felt throughout the room but also on social media. Fans went crazy with this clip, seeing the obvious signs that Orion was tired of such a question and was getting bad at hiding it. Some people called her rude while others defended her saying the interviewer was bad at her job for asking the same thing they already know the answer to.

“I just wanted to know how you guys felt about such rumors going around about you two?” The interviewer asked. Orion looked over at Josh, seeing if he wanted to give the question a go. Said man glanced down a little to make eye contact with the woman next to him before turning to the woman in front of him. “Um, the rumors don’t necessarily bother me. Not anymore at least.” He stated. “People have been saying this since the beginning of our careers, almost, because we became friends right before and have been for so long. So, I guess it just seemed like we were married?” Josh said with confusion written all over his face, his tone rising at the end since he was more so asking a question.

Orion dry chuckled as she watched the man deliver the answer she was tired of giving. “I say it’s rather flattering, in a sense, that people think we are married. Because Orion is an amazing woman that anyone would be lucky to call a wife.” He finished softly, glancing over at the woman next to him. “But no, we’re just best friends with the same name.” He said, visibly pink in the face as he continuously glanced at the woman next to him.

With the new craze of Challengers, every cast member gained new fans along with the one they already had and all were tuned in on their press tour. Social media went crazy over Josh and Orion, new fans because of their on and off screen chemistry while old fans were just excited to see the pair in another project together.

Orion made a cute pout at his words, her face heating as she looked at him in his blue eyes. Her big eyes reflected the fluorescent lights above them as she stated into his. “He’s too sweet for his own damn good.” She said in a sad tone as if she was crying. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a split second before raising it and dropping her façade. “Let me just say this.” She started, sitting up straight in her seat. Zendaya and Mike, who felt as if they were third wheeling the whole time, chuckled at her. “I don’t understand why I keep getting asked that when it could be easily answered by taking a look at my hand.” She said, showing her left hand. She used her right index finger to rub her left ring finger as she stared directly into the camera lens. “I do not have on a ring.” She said, shaking her head. She grabbed ahold of Josh’s and and held it up. Before she could even speak, her cast mates burst out laughing, knowing she was very riled up, which was quite amusing.. “He does not have on a ring.” She then looked back at the interviewer. “I would never do such a thing. I would be mad at Josh if he allowed me to do such a thing.” She stressed. “And I would also never let him or any man disrespect me in such a way. Isn’t that right?” She asked, looking over at the British man next to her. Josh immediately nodded.

“Correct.”

The initial context of video was ignored once clips hit other media sites. All people could talk about was the sheer amount of times Orion and Josh caught the other one staring. And if not them then the camera caught it. They all went feral over the last line, finding the way she demanded an answer out of him attractive and the way he answered her immediately. The compatibility between the two could be felt through the screen. Many edits were made out of the two and their characters, Dion and Patrick.

For backstory, Orion and Josh have been friends for many years. Meeting each other on the set of The Durrells where Orion was the only American that used an English accent for an obscene amount of time to play her character ‘Daisy’. They were only together in a couple of scenes but off screen, Josh and Orion became good friends. They grew even closer when Josh moved in with Orion when she went back to America. He would be staying for a while for work and Orion wanted the transition to be easy for her friend since he was such a big help for her in Europe, so she offered him a room in her New York flat. That’s when the rumors started. Seeing pictures of this pair of up and coming actors with the same last name, doing activities and living together. They blushed and joked at the rumors at first but after a while it started to get pretty annoying.

This being brought up again, fans started researching for old pictures of the two and they couldn’t get enough of the pair. Pictures of them holding pinkies as they walked around New York. Most of them from the same day as Orion showed him all of her favorite spots. There were pictures of them on the subway reading a book together. Pictures of them on visiting each other on set when they worked on different projects. So many pictures for the fans to choose from.

A while later in another interview, the energy seemed to be more prominent between them all.

“Do you think is most like their character?” The interviewer asked them. All of them immediately pointed at Orion, who even pointed at herself. Seeing that they all had the same idea, they laughed at one another. “Why is that? What makes you like you’re character?” He questioned again.

“Um, it’s actually funny because they changed things around for Dion once I was casted for her.” Orion started. “Her name was changed for be more boyish after I was casted because Luca and Justin liked the contrast of such a sweet and feminine character with a “boys” name.” She stated, doing air quotations around the word boy. “They did a lot of tweaking to the script after I was chosen for…whatever creative reasons they have.” She chuckled, waving her hands to indicate she didn’t know why but it was slowly up to them.

“I would hope I would be the most like my character because it’s almost based off of me at this point.” She shrugged. “But I would say I'm most like her in the way I love and express myself. In the movie, Dion is very physical with her friends which I tend do to be.” She chuckled to herself. Mike nodded his head next. She looked over at him, her smile big on her face as she blushed out of embarrassment. “Oh yeah, she’s like a baby koala. Or a sloth.” He started, seeing that the attention was on him. Everyone laughed. “She was always on top of someone in between takes. She falls out when she laughs, and she’s always sleeping.” Mike said, sitting up in his chair as he listed, his voice showing mock annoyance. Orion covered her face in embarrassment, leaning her head back as she laughed.

“I’m sorry, okay! This is just how I am!” She shouted. After a while of everyone laughing, they calmed down and sat still in their seats. “I see where my affection is not wanted.” Orion said sassily as she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs and leaned away from Mike. Mike groaned at her dramatic behavior and rolled his eyes too, doing the same as her. Seeing this, Orion softly scoffed at him. “Art wouldn't treat me this way.” She joked, causing laughter to fill the room again.

“Why do you guys say Orion is like Dion? Where do the similarities lie in your eyes?” The interviewer asked. Mike was the first to answer.

“I say she’s like Dion in the way she stated, herself .” He said, gesturing over to Orion. “Dion is a very loving and passionate character. You see that in the way she treats her friends, and in the games she plays. She doesn’t play for competition , she plays for the feeling it gives her. Like in the scene where she goes against Tashi, it didn’t cause them any strife because she doesn’t see it as ‘who’s better’, she sees it as a relationship and almost a way of communicating.” He said. “I see that a lot in Orion because she doesn’t really communicate through words, she communicates through her actions, in real life and within a character.” He finished. There was a moment of silence as everyone sat with what he said. Mike quickly looked around the room at the silence before looking over at Orion.

“Aww, Mikey.” Orion said as she pouted and leaned over to give him a side hug, placing her head on his shoulder. Breaking the tension in the air, the room chuckled. “He knows me so well.” Orion spoke up, placing her cheek against his with her hand on the other side of his face, smushing them together. They both smiled, feeling their cheeks mush together.

Fans were already in the Art Donaldson/Mike Faist train before they even saw the movie and especially afterwards. During most of the press tour the cute moments were between Josh and Orion and Zendaya and Orion, since the girl has previous history with them. But when Orion and Mike had their cute moments, fans almost felt like they were in love.

It was admitted in an interview Mike had without the whole cast he really admired the work Orion did before he formally met her. He first saw her on the comedy show Community. He found her really funny there and could tell her chemistry with the cast was impeccable. But her acting skills really shined to him when he saw her in Fleabag and The Handmaid's Tale. When he heard that she was going to be in the movie with him, he had a fanboy moment to himself for a few hours before calming down. Little did he know that Orion admitted herself in a solo interview that she used to have a crush on Mike after first seeing him in Dear Evan Hanson. She said that even though she hated that musical, she watched it for him. That’s also why she went and saw Brokeback Mountain live. Fans loved hearing this information, the Art and Dion edits having a mega surplus afterwards. Their interview moments together were cute but people mainly loved their red carpet interactions, Orion either bullying him for what he had on or the way he posed. She never let him live.

Another moment that went viral was their interview talking about intimate scenes together.

“Was that awkward to do with your best friend?” The journalist asked Orion.

“No, because we’ve done that before.” She answered quickly, not thinking of what she said. Zendaya’s head snapped to her, eyes a little wide as she gave the girl next to her a questionable glare. Mike raised his eyebrows while Josh tried to hide his laughter, and his red face, behind his hands. Seeing the reactions she got around the room, Orion chuckled before trying to save herself. “Not like that. I just mean I’ve seen him naked before.” She defended no better. Now all you could hear was the laughter of her cast mates. Mike and Z leaning on one another as they laughed while Josh put his head in his hands. “You guys know what I mean. We’ve done things like this before.” She continued to try to defend herself. Seeing her get nowhere, Josh placed his hand on her shoulder. She looked over at the cute smiling British man next to her, unconsciously smiling along with him.

“What? Tell them this isn’t something new for us.” She demanded the man. Josh placed his large hand on top of hers that was resting on the arm of the chair. “Our characters in The Durrells were in a relationship. That’s what she means.” Josh said, his face still red from trying to hold in his laughter. And blushing.

“The real question is, did you enjoy it?” Orion asked, looking over at the man next to her. But before he could speak, Mike spoke first. “Oh, I enjoyed it.” Mike joked. “Art and Dion were like rabbits at Stanford.” He emphasized.

“Her and Patrick were pretty wild too.” Zendaya said. “

“I think Dion was just like that with everyone, honestly.” Josh said. At that, Orion turned back to him, an eyebrow raised. “What’s that supped to mean?”

“No, byy everyone I mean, Tashi, Art and Patrick.” Josh rushed out, looking her right in the eyes. That’s something the fans caught into a lot. Whenever Orion looked his way, he would never break eye contact. No matter how many times she glanced off to the side or down at her hands playing with his, he never took his eyes off her face, especially when she was speaking. “Which is quite interesting when you take into account Dion was almost in control of everything.” He finished.

Orion immediately rolled her eyes and turned away from him. . Before she could say what she was going to, her other cast mates spoke in agreement. “100%.” Zendaya said.

“I’m not about to have this conversation again.” Orion spoke. “Dion is innocent and she was done wrong.” She said, looking directly into the camera.

“Dion played everyone.” Mike said.

“Like a game of tennis.” Josh finished, a small smirk on his lips. His eyes never left Orion, as if he was waiting for her to turn around. Mike and Zendaya groaned at him while Orion turned to him, a smile on her face when she looked his way. “That was so corny.” She said through her laughter that increased the more she thought about the terrible joke. Oriron loved a bad joke that was delivered kind of awkwardly. The rest of the interview consisted of small moments between Josh and Orion. Jim raising his hand to play with her dangling earring when Mike was talking. Her pinkie wrapped around his when both of their arms rested on their chairs.

Needless to say, the people loved Orion O’Oonnor and were on the edge of their seats to get more of her.

oconnorschildren

liked by, joshoconnorstoe, orionstar, and 36, 792 more

oconnorschildren you mean to tell me that this is Josh O’Connor and Orion O’Connor when they lived together???

view 3,944 comments

zendayacollective sups cute!!! ❤︎ ❤︎ ❤︎

mikeyfaist they look like a couple

orionstar and they’re wondering why people assumed they were married 🙄

⤷ oconnorschildren right! they act in love and get mad at us!

⤷ joshoconnorstoe they should just get married

tomdayaofficial I don’t know who I want her with more, Josh or Mike

⤷ oconnorschildren me neither, she’s has such great chemistry with both! I love her with them!

liversometennis I can’t wait until challengers is on streaming services so I can’t watch her kiss them all day everyday

zendayastwin I wish people would post the moments between her and Z, they are so cute together. Small hints of flirting but amazing friends.

⤷ oconnorschildren I’ll post some in the future because they are cute together!

[magentas-dystopia]

I don't think I've ever seen a good take on Tumblr about music and this recent fiasco of the majority white userbase floundering to justify not listening to rap/ hip-hop is proof of it. So far You guys literally have pulled:

"rap is too violent for me" (stereotype that's painfully untrue and rooted in anti blackness)

"I'm autistic and rap hurts my brain" (I'm autistic and I know other autistic people who like rap)

"I listen to rap!! (And lists something that isn't rap in the slightest)"

"insert something racist here" (self explanatory)

"does Hamilton count" (I will stab you in a dark alleyway)

Please I beg on my hands and knees for you to listen to expand your musical horizons, go outside your comfort zone. To get a complex and rich understanding of the world, one must view art from people outside Their own fixed walks of life. I've put this gently but also, you don't need to fucking reiterate that "you dont like rap" or "you don't listen to ( insert black artist)" every time you speak on a subculture that you're not a part of. The conversation isn't about you! Move on! I will say that if there are people who WANT to listen to rap/hip-hop there is a plethora of artists to choose from from many different backgrounds that aren't what white media has illustrated it to be.

Some albums I can reccomend off the top of my head:

Saba - Few Good Things

McKinley Dixon - Beloved! Paradise! Jazz?!

Kendrick Lamar - to pimp a butterfly + Good Kid Maad City (2 classics)

Noname - room 25 + Telefone (both great albums)

Little simz - sometimes I might be introvert

A tribe called quest - low end theory

Denzel Curry - Melt my Eyez See your future

Outkast - Aquemini + Stankonia (again, both great albums)

JPEGMAFIA - LP! + All My Heros Are Cornballs (2 fantastic albums also I think he's rlly hot and he's probably my favourite artist ever)

Grouptherapy - I was mature for my age but I was still a child!

The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill (probably one of my favourite albums ever, To Zion still makes me cry a lot ;;)

I will say this over and over again until the cows come home but please for the love of all that is holy, you can't just keep fucking repeating dumb shit on the internet about something you know nothing about.

If you want to engage in new music it's never been more accessible and artists like Denzel Curry and McKinley Dixon even have bandcamps for you to support their music on if you don't like streaming services.

I hope this recent beef of the year has managed to actually make people listen to more black and brown artists. Music is something I'm very passionate about and all of these albums in some way have affected me on a personal level and changed my perspective on life and molded me as a person (and also some just sound really fucking good).

[unluckilyimnot]

Hiii i love ur work so i wanted to request smth 🫶

Them with a s/o who is very short lol (like 5'0")

I would appreciate it if you could do this with rin, sae, yoichi and kaiser!!

Have a good day 🩷

Short s/o – rin, sae, yoichi, kaiser, hiori

m.list | rules

note: hiii thank you sm for your request <3 that’s basically my height so I know very much what it’s like

Rin

he doesn’t pay much attention at first, he’s not with you because of your height

but as time goes, he can get used to rest his head on top of yours

also pass his arm around your shoulders to bring him to him if necessary – he’s always kind of shy when your head hit his chest

loves it a lot when you sit between his legs to watch a movie because he can have you close and never worry about not seeing it well

you’ll only get confession about him liking it when it’s really late, sleep is already heavy on his eyes and he pulls you closer

you feel minuscule against his body and he’ll confess how down bad he is for you because you’re so small and cute, it pains him

never mention it tho, he’ll get sulky

Sae

acts normal about it but always hold your hand in the crowd because he’s scared to lose you

also scared to lose you in huge store so he just tag along – if you wear one particular piece that is colorful he’ll look for that instead

he once scold you because he lost you, but not before holding you close or kissing your forehead after checking you were alright

your forehead is were he kiss you the most in fact ‘cause it’s so easy access, it’s asking for it

hold you close to him when you sleep because, 1 he has to keep you warm, and 2 you’re so small he feels like he had to make sure nothing happens to you

deep down he’s down bad for it but doesn’t show it much and acts like he doesn’t care

he still put stuff on the top shelf sometimes for you to ask him for help

he got tricked a few times in fact because you just got on the furniture to get it yourself

his beige flag is that he manhandle you when you annoy him on purpose

Isagi

he’s the cutest ever I know that for sure

he’s afraid to offend you at first I think but he’s honest and tell you very quickly how cute you are, being so small

it never really stopped after that, even before you started dating he kept on telling you that you were cute

same as rin, he loooves to lay his head on top of yours

he bend to look at things with you but in a respectful, cute, head over heels for you way

holds you all the time when you’re home with him

hold him for behind, nuzzle your nose between his shoulders and he’s on his knees crying about how cute you are

fake crying about it sometimes (my gf does that)

he knows that not your whole personality but damn that’s still very cool to him to have a small s/o

Kaiser

he rest his arms on your head or shoulder to bother you all the time tbh

he’s annoying for sure but at the same time he’s probably whipped for you bc you’re so SMALL

he can grab you all the time so easily

the way you hit on his chest at best and your head rest on his arms when you’re tired and need to recharge

he loves to hold you to his chest in general

grab your chin up to kiss you or force you to go on tip toes to be able to kiss him

but also tells everyone you’re the cutest human being

he can’t help but melt if you pull his shirt or sleeve to kiss his cheeks or lips

you’ll catch him blush more than you might expected

he’s the type to tell you that you’re cute to tease you and see you blush

Hiori

he has a whole album on his phone dedicated to pictures you looks small, you know like those type of pictures for kpop idol

when you’re laying on a bed, rolled into a ball or if you’re standing a certain way and he founds you so cute

he can’t help but giggle every times and snap a picture

you’re totally aware of it the second he laugh that way and you ended up whining at him

probably the less shy after kaiser to tell you that he finds you cute

he wants to hold you close all the time I think, he’s in love with how small you feel against him

lays his head on your shoulder if he catches someone staring at you or if they’re flirting with you

but also does this to simply check what you’re looking at on your phone or read before your shoulder with you

I hope you liked it !

[phoward89]

Based on this ask

Young!President!Coriolanus x Reader

WARNING ⚠️ struggling to conceive, infertility, miscarriage, 2nd trimester miscarriage, anti-adoption views, adoption, angst, tragedy, bittersweet ending, Soft!Coryo, Supportive!Coryo

This is a very touchy, hard, and difficult subject. I hope I did this request justice.

*This is set in the Not A Bob universe*

You and your husband, President Coriolanus Snow, have been married for a few years now. And in those few years you've desperately wanted a child. It started with a tiny want once you saw your friends start to get pregnant right away after getting married and grew into a desperate need once you and your iciscle of a husband celebrated your 5th wedding anniversary.

Truth be told, you were worried about your lack of conceiving since you and Coryo never used protection and fucked like bunnies. Only the gods know how high of a sex drive your husband has; how often he's plowing into you. So, in your mind you feel like you should've been pregnant at least 3 times already. But, sadly, you and your husband haven't been blessed.

And then one of your friends sends you a pregnancy announcement that has you in tears. She got married a few months before you and she's now having her fourth (Yes fourth!) child.

Your husband finds you staring at the announcement as if you'd be able to set it on fire via telekinesis. Upon walking over to the sofa in your private parlor, located in the living quarters of the Presidential Palace, he notices what the announcement is for that's lying on the coffee table.

Oh no. Your peasant of a friend, that managed to set her claws into some mediocre politician (who's in the rival party of the President), is having another brat. In Coriolanus' opinion he feels that your friend, Megara (who he never approved of) shouldn't be gloating and taunting you with professionally made up pregnancy announcements- not with how you and he have been struggling to conceive.

Coriolanus is concerned, as are you, about a lack of pregnancy. Of course, he needs an heir to carry on the Snow name, but he truly does want at least one child with you because he loves you; wants a family with you. And being on this hard, frustrating journey of trying and failing to fall pregnant every damn month during the past 5 years has shown him just how much he loves you and wants a family with you.

He's sure you'd be a wonderful mother and he wants nothing more then to make you one. But, unfortunately, he's been unable to do that.

You've both been to doctors and have gotten tests done, only to be assured that you're both young and healthy. You've both been told that you're trying ‘too hard’ to conceive; that it'll happen when you least expect it. You just nod and take in everything you're told while your husband curtly nods while thinking about whether to seek other opinions; what could be done to make a child possible.

The President lets out a deep sigh and sits down next to you. Wrapping his arms around you; holding you close to his chest and allowing you to cry, Coriolanus tells you, “I know you're hurt that she's having another baby while we haven't had one yet.” Softly stroking your hair, something that seems to calm him more than you, he assures you, “You can cry, my darling. I know you better than you know yourself, just let it out; cry.”

“It's not fair, Coryo.” You tell him as the tears you've been holding back starts rolling down your cheeks in a tremendous downpour. “Why does Megara, hell everyone we know, have children but we don't? Why can't I get pregnant?”

“I don't know, baby. I honestly don't know why everyone's able to have such an excessive amount of children while we're struggling to conceive just one.”

“It's not fair. Megara knows how hard the subject of pregnancy is for me and she just sends me this generic, but professionally done announcement. She couldn't have the decency and respect to call; tell me on the video phone or face to face at an afternoon tea or something?”

“Megara was always a peasant with poor manners. Her marrying some mediocre staffer for a senator of the party opposing mine just shows it.” Coriolanus tells you. Pressing a kiss to your head while continuing to stroke your hair, he suggests, “We could always go to another doctor. Get another opinion; see if there's any options.”

“You know there's nothing that can be done, Coryo. And the only option we have is adoption.”

“I refuse to discuss the topic of adoption, darling. I don't want some unwanted, District reject or some bastard baby of some Capitol City whore. I want our child to carry on the Snow bloodline; to make our family complete.” The president coldly and a bit cruelly tells you; cutting off the discussion of adoption before it can truly even begin.

You've learnt over the years to not to push your husband too hard. You cut your hair super short once, when you and Coriolanus were 18, and it really hit your relationship hard. There was trust lost between you that had to be rebuilt, especially when drama and rumors surrounded his tribute surfaces, but the two of you prevailed in the end. But, after that incident, you tried your hardest not to push Coriolanus’ buttons too hard.

And it seems like adoption was a subject that wouldn't push the President's buttons, but would push his big red nuclear weapon button.

Knowing that adoption was off the table, you weakly nod and agree to see another doctor. Coryo just kisses you and wipes the tears from your eyes. Then he assures you that he'll make the appointment for as soon as possible.

The latest doctor, one that was a fertility expert, had told you that you're young and healthy. That you seem to be in prime condition to have a child. He also concludes that stress might be a large factor in your issues to conceive, considering that you're the First Lady; that you're husband's President Snow.

The doctor gives you a diet plan full of foods that are rich in nutrients and vitamins known to help women conceive. He also gives you hormonal supplements to take as well. Oh, and the doctor explains how to track your ovulation and how to position yourself during and after lovemaking to ensure that your husband's seed takes root.

And Coriolanus is very tedious when it comes to you following the doctor’s orders. He's so hopeful after you received new instructions from a specialist, but you just feel exhausted. And now fucking is a project. Oh boy, it's normal until you start your ovulation window; then it feels like a big production. Various positions before and after to ensure that Coriolanus' seed can successfully get to your womb and take root is a very daunting task.

But your husband doesn't seem to mind. He's determined to have a child with you. But at this point you're about to throw in the towel. You're just so damn exhausted.

But after roughly 5 months of hormonal supplements and ritualistic sex, you FINALLY get pregnant.

When you missed your period, you were nervous and told Coryo. Of course, he made you an appointment with the doctor right away to be checked. You had blood tests done as well as a urine sample test. Waiting for the results while sitting on an examination table, in an itchy gown, with your husband by your side- clenching your hand with an iron grip- was very daunting.

“President Snow, First Lady Snow, I have the test results right here.” The fertility doctor announced, holding some papers in his hand, as he entered your room in the clinic. Sitting down on the stool near you, the doctor looked between you and your husband, only to smile, “Congratulations, First Lady Snow, you're pregnant.”

FINALLY!

After everything that you've been thru during the last 5 years you're finally expecting a child with the love of your life. You just can't believe it. You feel nothing overjoyed and relieved to finally be pregnant after so long.

Coryo, well, he's elated too. Ever since he's said his vows to you and made you his wife he's wanted a family with you. Now, the want is a reality. One that he's happy about. One that he feels blessed about. Coriolanus knew that with enough patience and perseverance it'd happen. That you'd fall pregnant.

“With the date of your last cycle that you provided the nurse with, I estimate that you're about 6 weeks a long in your pregnancy. I'd like to do an ultrasound to measure the fetus and get a better estimate of conception and how far along you are, First Lady Snow.”

“Okay.” You nod, smiling happily, while your husband just silently nods in agreement. Whatever's best for the baby must be done in his books.

After the exam, the doctor prescribed you some prenatal vitamins and an iron supplement. He also gave you some instructions to take it easy, but to also make sure to get plenty of fresh air and to take some walks to strengthen your disposition. The doctor also told Coriolanus to be mindful of pregnancy hormones; that the smallest slight or rude remark could put you into an emotional turmoil. A crying jag that could be draining.

You and Coryo thanked the doctor, agreed to follow all of his instructions, and made a follow-up appointment for a few weeks down the line before leaving and going home to the Presidential Palace.

President Snow's known to be a cold, callous, imposing, stoic man, but with you he's a very loving and devoted husband. After everything you've been thru, Coriolanus is actually quite worried about you. He's always hovering over you, wanting to ensure your comfort and safety.

Every morning you eat breakfast with him in the sunroom before he has to go to his office, in the public section of the Presidential Palace. And everyday during lunch he takes his break with you in the private living quarters of the Presidential Palace. Sometimes he arranges for lunch in the sunroom and other times it's in the rose garden that's in the greenhouse. But after every luncheon he takes you on a small walk in the rose garden to build up your and to ensure that you get plenty of fresh air.

And this goes on for months until you’re 24 weeks pregnant; nearing your third trimester. That's, sadly, when the unthinkable happens. When heartbreak hits you and your husband full force.

Your day had started out normally, as it always did. You took a warm shower and dressed for the day in a dress that flattered your round belly. Coryo had Tigris make you an entire new wardrobe to accommodate your swelling belly. Yes, your round and big now, but in a short time you'll grow even larger with the blessing you're carrying inside of you.

And then you had breakfast with your husband like you always did. Coriolanus was very gentle with you, helping you take your seat and pressing kisses to your forehead and running a soft, but protective hand over your swelling belly before serving you your breakfast and taking his seat next to you. You engage in small talk as you eat your salsa smothered eggs, something you've been craving for the last couple of months, and drink your juice while Coryo sips on his coffee, eats his hard boiled egg, and reads his newspaper while engaging in endearing conversation with you.

You speak about how you're feeling, the baby, and even start to think up baby names. At your last appointment the doctor confirmed that the baby’s a boy and encourage you and your husband to start thinking of baby names. To also start planning for a baby shower and to figure out a nursery design because everything was going smoothly. Before the president has to depart for his duties in his office on the other side of the mansion he promises to get you for lunch at noon sharp.

So, when noon closely approaches your sitting on the sofa in the living quarters of the Presidential Palace. In the parlor to be exact. And you're patiently waiting for your husband to get you.

You're reading one of your favorite books whenever you feel a sharp pain in your side. You gasp, placing your hand on your side. You take calming breaths, trying to stabilize yourself. But then you feel a lightning bolt straight in your lower belly.

You stand to your feet, with the intention to go get help, but the pain in your stomach brings you to your knees. And suddenly you feel something hot and wet trickle down your thighs. Shakily you fall on your butt, against the couch, and start to cry.

You know exactly what's happening.

You're suffering a miscarriage. And all you can do is loudly sob as your heartbreaks, as you feel more blood flow down your thighs.

Your lost in your own thoughts, your body's own trauma, that you don't even hear the door open or the footsteps of your husband rushing towards you while screaming your name at the top of his lungs. You don't notice how his eyes are panicked and full of horror.

You do, however feel him as he drops to the ground next to you; gathering you in his arms as you sob uncontrollably. You can feel his heartbreaking with yours as he places a hand over yours that's on your lower belly. His other hand’s petting your hair in a fruitless attempt to calm you both.

“I know, my love. I know, it hurts.” Coryo whispers against against your hair.

You just bury your head into his broad shoulders and clutch at his waistcoast while uncontrollable sobs wrack your body.

Coryo quickly goes into President Coriolanus Snow mode as screams for help, causing a maid to come running in. Her eyes are wide in fear, but before she can utter a word the president orders her to get him the nearby phone so that he can call the doctor. She does as he asks before scurrying off to prepare a guest room for you to experience the worst moment of your life in.

The maid knows that the doctor won't be able to help. Nobody's going to be able to help. It doesn't matter that you're the First Lady; married to President Snow: nobody can fucking help you.

No.

Not with the backasswards, asinine, laws that have strict limits on women's reproductive health in the mighty nation of Panem. If the baby's not to full term, a doctor won't touch the woman in fear of being accused of performing an abortion. A procedure that's illegal in Panem: one that will get a doctor arrested, charged, and unable to practice medicine ever again.

So, sadly, there's no help for a woman when she's suffering a miscarriage. If she's able to get to a hospital at the 8 or 8 ½ month mark then a doctor will try to save the baby. But other then that, well, a woman's on her own in Panem.

A hard, dark, nasty truth that hit both you and your husband right in the heart and the gut. Despite being President of Panem, Coriolanus couldn't make the doctor rush over and help you. No, because the doctor refused to risk his freedom and his medical license.

Coriolanus was beyond scared out of his mind, despite trying to keep a cool head for you. It wouldn't do you any good to see him breaking down. But, honestly he's about to lose his shit at any moment.

Seeing you in so much pain, both emotionally and physically, has your husband reeling. Your Coryo can't handle seeing you in agony knowing that he can't make it better for you.

You barely hear him hang up the phone and tell you that the doctor says that there's nothing he can do; that you're on your own. You're too busy crying your eyes out as you bleed, cramp, and feel the most painful you've ever felt in your entire life.

The president screams for help, only for the maid from earlier and another one to come in. They assure President Snow that a nearby guestroom is prepared for you and that they'll help you during your trying and traumatic time. Your husband thanks the maids and picks you up bridal style, only to follow the women to the guestroom.

Coryo's by your side the entire time you experience your miscarriage. The maids help you, of course, and they're a big help in your survival. But it's your husband holding your hand and smoothing back your hair while begging you not to leave him like his mother did that gives you the strength you needed to get thru the worst of the miscarriage.

With Coryo by your side you can get thru anything, can weather any storm.

And after seeing the horror of your 6 month term miscarriage, well, Coriolanus Snow quickly changed his firm anti-adoption mindset. Adopting a baby's much safer than risking his soulmate dying in the birthing bed along with his unborn child. The death of his mother was very traumatic and your miscarriage with his first born son had reopened those old, never fully healed wounds ten fold.

A month after your miscarriage you have a check up with your doctor. The specialist apologized for your loss and claims that there must've been an abnormally that wasn't caught on any testing performed. But then the specialist says that in another 3 months you and your husband can always start trying again- except this time with high dose hormone shots for you and male pre-conception vitamin supplements for him that would boost the vitality of his seed.

Before you could even think, President Coriolanus Snow shot down the doctor's idea. The cold as ice look the president gave your doctor was enough to have the doctor shaking in his shoes and praying for his life. Before ending the appointment the doctor left you and your husband with some pamphlets about grief, rainbow babies, and adoption.

Coriolanus left the first two pamphlets on the small counter in the examination room, but he took the one about adoption. He gave it to you, because as much as he wanted his own child with you he wanted you to be happy. He wanted you to become a mother.

One week before the games were due to start President Snow got a call from the Capitol run adoption center. The woman in charge said that they had received a newborn baby boy with blonde hair and blue eyes (as he has requested) from District 12- of all places. The adoption director explained how the newborn was given up by the biological parents because the father had enlisted as a peacekeeper and the mother couldn't handle the pressure of being an unwed teen mother.

Of course, Coriolanus told the director that he'd be by with you at once. To start on the paperwork for the adoption; that you'd sign it when you arrive.

And when your husband rushed to the rose garden, where you spent a lot of your time thinking and healing spiritually, he smiled. “I got a call from the adoption center, they've got a newborn baby boy for us, darling.”

“Really? We're going to have a baby?” You ask in disbelief, your eyes welling up with unshed tears of joy.

“Yes, my love.” Coryo nodded, cupping your face in his large hands and using his thumbs to brush away the happy years that began to fall from your eyes. Pressing his forehead against yours, he promised, “We're going to go pick him up and bring him home.”

Crassus Javanis Snow, named after both of your fathers, was a very cute and happy baby. He was the sweetest thing. He truly looked worthy of the Snow name with his light blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He was both the love and light of your life and Coryo's life.

But President Snow became very protective, possessive, cold, and even downright cruel towards other people when it came to you and your son. Nobody could say a word about how the Snow heir was adopted or how you were a useless wife by Old Guard Capitol standards, not unless they had a death wish.

Your husband did push for better women's reproductive health and reform. And when he signed the bill into law he had the proudest smile on his face.

Of course the bill was only for Capitolite women; it didn't hold up for women in the Districts. But he didn't care. You're a Capitolite woman and whoever your son married will be a Capitolite girl as well.

So…

But as long as Capitolite women are healthy, fertile, and happy that's all that matters to President Snow.

And when your son's getting ready for kindergarten at the Academy you get the surprise of your life when you turn up pregnant, after so many years of nothing; after you and Coryo stopped trying, with your daughter.

A baby girl that you'd name Demeter Rose, in honor of Coryo's late mother and grandmother.

But one day, when both of your children are middle-aged with children of their own, during the 74th Hunger Games, your eyes widen when you see the tribute from District 12: a broad and tall boy with blonde hair and blue eyes that looks strikingly like your son did as a teenager.

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress

[k0yaz]

UGGHHHH hear me out on toxic Yuri with acheron or Topaz like for Topaz it might be a little hard to see but basically she entered the IPC for her own survival. in a voiceline she said "my survival mattered more than my freedom" and as sad as that sounds, imagine her sweetheart (non binary idk preferably female) is back on her planet and her family was killed by the IPC and she can't stand the sight of Topaz anymore because in their eyes Topaz is a traitor for joining the IPC and they're this sad gay couple anyone would cry and throw up at the sight of like this big sloppy mess.

For acheron, I think we can have like acheron travelling and reader crashing into her no matter whag planet who are at each other's throats all the time (one-sided because Ion think acheron would gaf) but reader hates acheron and acheron doesn't go slicey slicey on reader because she wants to keep them around. idk maybe she gets amusement seeing their hateful eyes.

This isn't even toxic Yuri but I BEG YOU WHAHHWHWHHA

ignore this if your uncomfortable lol

I can’t.

Pairing(s): acheron x fem!reader

CW: mostly js hating and stuff, potential hate love relationship idk im just bullshitting warnings to fill this space, oh and Acheron lowkey scares reader by almost going slicey slicey but she doesn’t even notice it lol

A/N: someone get her google maps anyway I love acheron sm swawswwjsjsjs

Your muscles tensed up as a familiar face entered your view, her deadpan eyes locking onto you the moment she saw you. Using your free hand, you drew your hand to your eyes, attempting to shield the side of your head and avert your gaze from the Galaxy Ranger.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

The woman you despise deeply, the one you couldn’t escape no matter where you went.

Who else would it be? None other than Acheron herself.

Without hesitation, you found yourself furiously making your way to her, and your face scrunched up at the sight of her. Acheron stared back at you, her gaze hollow and emotionless as if she was waiting for you to say something. God. That stupid, unfeeling look ticked you off so damn much.

“What the hell are you doing here? Did you get lost looking for your hotel room again?”

You snapped at her, face flushed from how irritated you were upon seeing her again.

Acheron only let out a sigh in response, closing her eyes briefly before resting a hand on her hip.

“I was just minding my own business. I don’t understand what got you so irritated. Do you seriously hate me so much that you have to yell at me when you see me?”

Her tone was nonchalant and insouciant, which pissed you off even more. Why wasn’t she bothered at all? Why wasn’t she matching your energy and at your throat too? The fact that she didn’t exactly care about how much you hated her just made your blood boil, it made you feel so small and petty every damn time. Without thinking, you spat at her again, this time your words more harsh as if they had been laced with poison.

“Well why do you have to be everywhere, huh?! Every time I hope to get away from you I can’t! So why? Are you following me or some shit?!” you almost near yelled, brows furrowing and your eyelids lowering slightly.

You slam a fist onto Acheron’s shoulder, jabbing it slightly as you stare down.

You shouldn’t haves done that.

Your eyes widened, and you felt your stomach tighten as your breath caught in your throat. Your eyes trailed down to the end of her hair, heart pounding in your chest from fear as you saw a small fade of white at the tips.

It was barely there, almost not at all, yet you saw it. No doubt.

That alone made you remember, no matter how much you hated her, she was still an emanator of nihility. She could slice you apart and turn you into nothing but a memory if she wanted to.

However when you looked up, you ended up jumping back and away a good 4 feet from her stunned at what you saw.

Was Acheron- smiling a bit?

Your scornful gaze was still glued to your face as you stared her down, confused as to why she smiled for a moment and why she didn’t just kill you on the spot.

“I don’t hate you, hope you know that. But it’s…slightly entertaining to see your expression.”

She paused, taking a moment to think up of something else she wanted to say.

“And I’d prefer to keep you around, honestly.”

Acheron remarked, turning her back to you as she walked away and out of your sight. You still stared off into the distance with a puzzled expression, before running your hand through your hair and closing your eyes.

What- just happened?

traitor.

Pairing(s): topaz x fem!reader

CW: tragic lovers obviously, reader losing her shit, topaz gets fucking slapped lol idk what else to put here I hope yall know on sfw works there’s usually no warnings, um screaming crying throwing up idk gay ppl wowowow

A/N: meowmoew

“I’m sorry I-“

“stop. Just…stop. Okay..?”

You snapped, bringing your hand to crease your forehead and lowering your fingers down to the bridge of your nose near the corners of your eyes. Topaz could only stare back at you with a dejected expression while averting her gaze shamefully.

“It was for my survival…my love, please. I didn’t mean-“

You cut her off again, fighting back the tears that pricked at the corner of your eyes. You choked back a sob as you spoke in a pained voice.

“And yet you still joined the IPC? Did you even think to consider how I would feel?”

A quiet sob escaped your lips as your breath hitched and got in your throat. Within moments tears were flowing down your face, crying uncontrollably with your teeth pressed together and small hiccups spilling out as you buried your face into your hands.

“…you didn’t have to see the bodies of your family, knowing that your lover is the reason for it.”

Topaz could only watch, heartbroken by your sorrow—and it was all because of her. She reached out, attempting to place a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t touch me! You fucking traitor!”

You yelled, breathing heavily from your sobbing, along with your nose being tinted red and the dried tear cracks down your face being run over by new tears.

Your hands balled up into fists as Topaz stared down at the ground shamefully, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth as to not cry herself.

“(Name). Please. Let me explain.”

She breathed out, trying to keep her own composure. She stepped forward, placing her hands on either side of your head, her thumb brushing along your cheek.

“You have to understand…my survival mattered more than my freedom-“

A slap echoed throughout the vicinity all of a sudden. Topaz stumbled back, the hand that was placed on your cheek now shifted over to her own, grasping her reddening skin. Her eyes widened for several seconds as she processed what happened, breathing quickening slightly. Her own beloved just slapped her.

It was obvious now. You didn’t want anything to do with her anymore.

Topaz quickly recovered from the slap and sighed, her cheek still a blistering red. She stepped forward, cupping your face again and placing her forehead against yours. She grasped your head firmly, fingers tightening as she tried fighting back her own tears.

“I get it. I’m a traitor. But I’m not a traitor when it comes to us, just know that before you go. I still love you.”

She sighed, pressing herself against you more until your noses were touching, and closing her eyes. You could only gasp from the sobs clawing at your throat in response, barely able to form a coherent sentence until Topaz walked away.

You fell to your knees when she was gone, being able to do nothing but cry. And just like that. The love of your life was gone. You wanted nothing to do with her. The pangs of regret ate away at you as you wanted nothing more than to just forgive her and lay in her arms as you mourned your family.

You still loved her. So much.

But you just couldn’t.

You couldn’t be with a traitor.

A/N: AGAGAGAGSGA UR AN ANGEL FOR SEEING MY POST COMPLAINING ABOUT NOT GETTING WLW OR HSR RAHAHAHAHBDBDBDBD

anyway I have my final tomorrow goodbye yall I’m going back to the dead

@qwnelisa

[daenysx]

hi I can’t stop thinking about an aemond fic with his girl graduating university. I graduated today and can’t stop thinking about how supportive your modern aemond would be!!

thank you for requesting, angel! i'm sorry, this is a bit short but i hope you enjoy, congratulations!! requests are open

modern!aemond targaryen x fem!reader ♡

aemond watches you take your make up off as he does every night.

this time, it's a bit different. the hour is later than usual, you are a little tipsy because of the celebration drinks but you insist on completing your skin care routine. he lays in bed, his eye following your movements in the little bathroom attached to his bedroom. you give him a smile when your eyes meet, he likes being the person you smile at night.

you apply your night cream on your clean face and turn off the lights as you leave the bathroom. aemond adores how your face looks without any make up on, he likes it either way but your clean face reminds him how safe you feel with him. you trust him enough to create a night time routine with him, it's so nice to be the person you sleep and wake up next to. he opens his arms, you willingly lay next to him, your head on his chest and your arm wrapped around his waist.

"you don't have classes tomorrow." he says. "how does that feel?"

you sigh, nuzzling closer. "it's so weird. i don't think i ever remember a time when i don't continue studying after summer."

"you'll get used to it." he graduated three years ago. "and you can always continue studying if you want."

"i feel free." you say. "and i'm kinda proud of myself. i mean at some point it was really hard like it's never gonna end."

aemond is proud of you. so proud, he can still remember how his posture got straighter the moment you finally graduated. he is the person who has been with you all the time when you were studying, when you were crying because of your papers, when you were finding out about your grades and celebrating them. now, it's all over. you finished another important part of your life and he is one of the main characters. such a nice feeling, he thinks.

"i totally remember that point." he smirks. he does remember the time of your final week during your last semester at uni. it's safe to say he won't let you forget it either. it was a hectic week, you don't remember you ever studied harder in your life. one night, you were literally talking about your lecture notes in your sleep and aemond had the pleasure of learning your class.

"it happened once, aemond." you roll your eyes. "i can't control what i do when i sleep."

he changes your positions to be on top. he kisses your nose, your cheeks. he feels delightful tonight, you cup his cheeks to start a kiss that plays with his heartbeat. he brings his finger to your chin, tilts your head back for a deeper angle. you are both very tired but aemond thinks he can kiss you for an eternity. it makes him feel like he's the lead of one of those cheesy romcoms but he can't help himself.

"do you think it's gonna be okay?" you ask him, breaking the kiss. he knows you are nervous about what to do with your life now, university was hard but it had consistency. your every day was planned, routines were safe. right now, you need to build yourself a new life, it's a new chapter. beginnings are always scary.

"of course it's gonna be okay." he says, playing with your hair. "no matter what you decide to do, i'll be here."

"i think i'm afraid of stucking into a thing i'll hate and then never being able to change it."

he smiles, your pout has always been this cute. "trust me, sweetheart, you can change it. if you ever feel like you're stuck into something, i promise i'll help you with the change you want."

your pout turns into a smile. there she is, his brilliant girl. he kisses the corner of your lips fondly.

"i'm so proud of you." he says before kissing your forehead.

"thank you." your eyes are shining, you kiss him as a way of telling how much his words mean to you.

[billskeis]

Hi, would it be fine, if I ask you for bill angst?

I don't want the reader to forgive so easily too 😫😩

Thanks, pookieboo.

ᡣ𐭩 bill’s stupid priorities

“i want to break up.” bill said. he said it so easily, as though he’s been thinking about it for a while. you stand there in the middle of the living room, dropping your glass of water, glass shattering to the floor as you physically feel sick. suddenly all air is lost in your lungs as you force your body to swallow the boulder forming in your throat from becoming any larger.

mouth agape before you could speak. what’s gotten into him? everything was fine before, but.. now all of a sudden he wants to end things? you sit down on the couch beside him, he inches himself a distance from you, your heart stings at the action, oh he’s serious.

“can you tell me why?” you hold onto your knees to prevent shaking, your breath already doing enough of that.

“i..i just want to focus on the band—and don’t get me wrong—i know you said you don’t care about me putting the band before you.. but, i can’t. i don’t want to do this to you anymore.” he begins to sit up from the couch, a hand of yours instinctively grasping onto him.

“but i never once asked you for anything more! please, i’m content with what we have just—please don’t leave me,” tears welling up in your eyes as they begin to cloud your vision, “this, we’re stronger than this, bill, it’s been years. and you want to drop it all now?”

he shakes your hand off of him. stepping further and further away from your apartment as he gathers his things.

“‘m sorry y/n. it’s over.”

“how long?”

“h-huh?”

“how long have you been thinking about this? how long were you gonna wait and plan to tell me this while i naively loved you, craved you. and cherished every single moment we’ve had with one another before you meant to break up with me.”

you’re now stood up to his level, on the balls of your feet that began to ache with impatience. as your now ex-boyfriend stands there without a single word to say. wow, so he’s been thinking about it for a while then.

you sit down on the couch, elbows propped up onto your knees as you begin to sob into your hands after emitting a small “fine. do whatever you want,” and with the click of the door shutting, it all came raining down on you as your heart bore the loss and pain of love that you had with your person.

all you could think about were the happy memories of your time with bill. it started off as meeting in elementary school, protecting him from the ruthless bullies that bothered him and tom. escalating to a vow where the three of you are bound to stick and stay together forever.

it was clear that over the years you and bill’s bond were, in short words—closer— than you and tom. sometimes during your weekly hangouts alongside georg and gustav, you and bill would secretly escape and elope to god knows where. sharing mcdonalds together, watching movies with one another. hand holding whenever it felt right, which was, all the time.

you were there with bill when times were tough and tokio hotel got an immense amount of hate. the morales were low and bill felt as though he lost all hope, but you didn’t let him. did everything in your power, actually, to get him back on his feet and now tokio hotel are back stronger and better than ever! so.. did that all mean nothing to him?

when he all of a sudden just decided to spew at you that he wanted to break up? why did he get to make such a decision himself?

oh, how poor you wish you knew ..

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

during their performance everything was going super smooth! fans were chanting, guitars were going and the set was perfect. well, the three of the members thought the flow was going perfect. whilst singing it’s second verse, bill scans the crows to see a bunch of fangirls and boys screaming and crying for the young rockstars.

all but one face, the face he yearns to see is missing. leading him to stumble on a line where he completely banks out on his line.

he quickly picks up the pace, backing his track onto the song as he shares a glance with tom. tom, who’s jaw is clenched as he strings his guitar, mouths a ‘what the hell’ to his younger brother as he then focuses on the crowd in front of him, staging a facade to not start any unnecessary drama for the media to feed and bank money on.

“what the hell, bill!?” tom throws his empty coca cola can at bill, who successfully dodges as they now sit in the dressing room post-concert.

bill scoffs as he uses a small towel to wipe off the sweat and dripping mascara off his face, “you just completely fucked up our tempo. like you’ve been doing for the past couple of days, s’wrong with you??” georg plops himself down on the couch as he swings an arm around his band member. “betcha it has something to do with y/n.” he teases.

tom quirks an eyebrow, “the fuck did he do?” gustav slips in, “he broke up with her,” tom, left in complete and utter shock, not cause he was the last to know but the fact that his brother let the only person who loved his brother so much to the point they’d kill, he broke up with, “are you fucking insane!?!”

“take a shot every time tom said ‘fuck’ or ‘fucking.’” georg snorts.

“please georg, now is not the time. and yes, i did break up with them. i made it clear that i wanted to focus on the band and that.. they were a distraction.” this time, tom threw a decorative couch pillow at bill, who again, successfully evades the blow by catching it within a hold.

“you’re fucking stupid.”

“how am i stupid? how am i stupid for wanting to focus on the band? isn’t this what we would’ve wanted?? no distractions, whatsoever. you even decided to stop taking in groupies because it fucked with our tempo.”

“it fucked with MY tempo. nobody else even noticed. but you, bill, are our lead singer. and with your tempo fucked, so is everyone else’s. look at you man, you can’t even deliver your lines without messing up, it’s been like this for the past couple weeks! what will the media think?? what will our fans think?? you were never once like this when with y/n. they, in fact, helped our tempo.”

“i..i thought it’d help us..”

“well, it didn’t. and y’know what. i know you regret it. i saw you. i saw the way that your pathetic little gaze scanned the crowd in hopes to see them. well guess what, they weren’t there. you betrayed them. betrayed us, remember that vow? how could you do this? i thought you loved them.”

bill looks down as his hands, empty. as if they’re missing something. someone, someone who fits and moulds to them completely and perfectly. tom was right. he did love you. bill just thought, by breaking things off would help with his career, singing is his life, tokio hotel, the band, his fans, are all his life. but so were you.

the only thing that bill could imagine at that very moment was the touch of your hand atop of his head, comforting him to let him ‘know everything would be okay.’

all he wants, is a caress from his girlfriend.

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

you stare at yourself in the mirror, waiting for your friend to come out the washroom to reveal her own outfit to you. “wow. you look amazing babe!” she giggles as she twirls you, hand holding your arm above your body in your tight-skin dress. “thanks, but ‘m not sure if i’m ready to go now..”

“are you kidding?? take all the time you need. oh! but not too long i wanna be there early enough there’s still free alcohol.”

you bite your lip. you didn’t really want to go out. after the breakup all you did was stay inside, watching movies, binge, watch more movies, stay in bed. hell, you didn’t even shower for a few days! it took hours and hours of convincing for your best friend to finally persuade you into going to a house party.

she looks at you and softens her gaze, arms wrapping around your body as you simple stand there, “i know. i know you originally weren’t planning to go out. but you need to. you need to finally get back into the world and realize that a world without bill is still worth living. hey! maybe you’ll end up finding someone else while we’re out.”

you snicker at her and pat her back for her to let go, “you know i don’t want anything else but bill. but hey, you’re right. i deserve this, and i’m worth more than bill and i’s relationship!” you pump yourself up as your best friend cheers for you, “that’s the spirit! now let’s go get our drinks on!”

“w-wait y/n!! where are you going!? we didn’t even get our third shots yet!” your friend chases after you in the crowd as pushes away the people preventing her from getting to you so easily. you stop in your tracks and turn on your feel to face her, “he’s.. he’s here! sophia he’s here i—i gotta go.”

she tugs on your hand to hold you back from leaving any further, “so what? the night is still young and there’s so many people around. he won’t notice!”

in despite of all the commotion of the people dancing, making out, laughing and drinking, smoking and grinding, there you stood in the hallway with your best friend as the two of you bickered. bill’s eyes widened in shock as he saw you here of all places. but why did it matter to him? the two of you were broken up.

he stared in awe at how you looked. glowing. the way you shine in such a dimly lit environment almost had his knees buckling. if it weren’t for the publicity of it. bill would’ve already been on the floor, a full on prayer for you to take him back. he would’ve done it, if it weren’t for the multiple spilt drinks mixed with the dirt and germs tracked onto the floor of the somewhat fraternity house. one could say it was even worse than the club.

“and that’s when she—bill? where’ya goin??” tom asks with a blunt accompanying the corner of his mouth.

“to get my girlfriend back!” he looks back to his older brother who’s already shooing him off, a proud smile plastered onto his face at the sight of his determined younger brother. as bill made his way through the crowd of people, one girl attempted to grab onto his arm, caressing it, as he quickly shut her down her pick-up line, cutting her off with a ‘not interested’ as he now stands in front of you.

oh fuck. oh fuckfuckfuck he’s right in front of you. god, he looked amazing. and you bet if you inched a bit closer to him he’d be wearing that cologne you loved so much. oh who are you kidding he probably doesn’t wear that anymore since the two of you aren’t dating anymore. he is wearing it

“hi.. y/n. can we, talk? please?” he shoves his hands inside his pockets, standing there awkwardly.

sophia had to slap your arm for you to realize that you haven’t said anything for a minute. dissociating as you haven’t grasped the fact that your ex boyfriend was standing right in front of you, and he wanted to talk??

anger bubbled within your core. he wanted to talk?? after all this time, and after all these weeks, he wants to talk?? it took everything in your body to not tackle him. right then and there, and just completely claw at his body for how he’s left you. the man that promised you, a forever and together.

then, you saw it, in the flashing lights for a moment. eyebags, eyebags so bad you’d know he’d only get from the lack of sleep, they were different that others, y’know? the kind that only form when something truly keeps you up at night. if you stared a little harder, you noticed too that his eyes were puffy, and he seemed.. frail.

you let in a deep inhale, and patted the sides of your thigh where your arms rest to comfort you into not lashing out at him, “five minutes, you have, five. fucking minutes. bill.” as you grab his hand and lead him into the washroom.

locking the door, you push him onto the toilet and stand in front of him, feeling a little guilty for the wince he let out from how you’ve manhandled him, “speak. and use your words fucking wisely because i did not want to spend my night talking to the man who broke me, kaulitz.”

and it was the way you said his last name. the way that your voice held so much sorrow and angst from how much he broke you. in an attempts to not sound shaky, you croak while speaking to him. but how could you not? just seeing his stupid fucking face just makes you want to crumble down, as all the flashing memories of your life together came together in a timeline as you saw him.

“i—fuck y/n, i’m lost without you.. i don’t know what i can do to get you to believe that i can make us work together, it was stupid of me to break our vow.”

“yeah, it was.”

“but, but now, i want us to work. and i don’t want to give up. i did that once and—well, i’m here now. i’m here in front of you because it was the wrong choice. please, schatzi.. give us another chance.”

“no! no—don’t you fucking call me that because you don’t get the right.”

he frowned, and it hurt to see him sad. but he had to understand, that you were sad to. and he thought that maybe, maybe by him letting you let out all the anger that you’ve held against him for the past few weeks, will allow you to forgive him. for him to yours once more.

“i gave you my heart. my fucking soul. i gave you my everything and then you up and left.. how could you!? how could you do this to me.. it’s your fault.. it’s all your fault. and now, i don’t feel as if i could ever love anyone or myself as much as i loved you bill.”

“i..i still think your my person, y/n. and i’m hoping, that i can become yours again.”

he reaches out and arm to hold your body within his, he yearned for that caress that you’d always done for him. just to be held in your arms once again, like old times. but you slap away his hand, “get away from me,” you hissed. you unlock the door and look back at the pitiful figure that sat still on the toilet seat, music somehow blaring into the small space that only encompassed the two of you. you stare at him, completely lost and unknowing of what you want to do.

“your five minutes is up, goodbye bill.” slamming the door behind you as you left bill, who notices the tears that began to fall and stain the fabric of his jeans.

i think this was so shit

no ending of them tgt cuz im evil :p would write a p2 but im also so lazy and have so many reqs , bare w me