#he just wants her to be happy in this life

[opportunityarose]

their achilles heels cut the way slaves' were cut. the monstrous racist caricatures drawn. louis depicted as a violent, unstable, and predatory man. not allowing them to speak. the abuser crying about his loneliness as the entire crowd cries with him. louis begging on his knees and telling lestat he'll never leave him, will do whatever he wants, will always be happy, if he just turns claudia. even when lestat admits his faults the crowd sides with him. armand saying lestat took the pieces of louis life and reframed them to build an effify to lestat as if he didn't do the exact same. claudia telling lestat and louis it was never about her. "i could not prevent it" as he controls an entire crowd. claudia singing "i dont like windows when they close" as she dies. louis buried in rocks and the rocks in the dubai penthouse. the absence of metaphor is striking.

[scarlet-star-witch]

The moon and his sun (Part II)

Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader

Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.

Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.

Word count: 8.2 K

Warnings: Aegon takes minors to a brothel (but nothing sexual happens), characters get aged up, male masturbation, mutual pining, smut

AN: I am so blown away by the love you all showed for the first chapter, thank you all so much! Hope you enjoy xx

Part 1

~~

Her cheeks hurt from smiling so wide. 

Aemond had been twirling her around the room practically the entire night. She knew he didn’t particularly enjoy dancing, but when she had asked him, he loathed to deny her. 

“Are you having a good name day?” 

“It’s my best one yet.” He smiled. He had woken that morning to her barging into his chambers, demanding her gift be the first one he received that day. Nothing could ruin such an incredible start to the day. 

He raised her hand over their heads and twirled her under his arm again, his own grin beaming at the sound of her delighted laughter. 

She tilted her head back as she spun and Aemond was struck by how happy she looked. She was happy with him, she was carefree with him. 

Despite how his feet began to hurt, or that he knew many pairs of eyes were staring at him, the desire to let go and sit back down was nowhere to be found. He wanted to stay with her. He wanted to continue to make her smile all night long

As she twirled again, her eyes found the head table, smiling to Helaena who was watching the dancers wistfully while her betrothed sat next to her downing another cup of wine. 

She flinched suddenly as she met the hard stare of the Hand of the King. Otto Hightower’s stare was enough to make her feel as though she was burning under such a disdainful look. 

Her shoulders tensed slightly before she found herself being spun again, back into Aemond’s arms. His smile faltered when he noticed her own smile dimmed. 

“Are you alright?”

She forced a mask upon her face, not quite understanding the contempt coming her way from his grandsire, and brought a smile back to her face. 

“I’m fine, just getting a little tired.” 

“Come on, we’ll take a break.” He took her hand in his and guided her back to the table.

Her father smiled at the two of them as they approached. 

“You two look like you’ve been having fun.” 

“We are.” She smiled, taking her seat next to him. Aemond moved to take the empty seat next to her when his mother called out to him. She beckoned him forward with a pointed look and he sighed, promising to find her later as he left her side to make his way back to the head table.

She watched him go with sorrowful eyes, her gaze moving over to Otto and suppressing a shiver at the cold look she received. 

She seemed to shrink in her seat, catching her father’s attention. He followed her gaze, his face hardening, his posture becoming rigid as he noticed the cold glare the Hand of the King was sending his daughter. 

He had never liked Hightower, he didn’t trust the man. He somehow always seemed to take control of the council meetings, proclaiming he knew what the King’s best interests were. He was a snake of a man and he would not let him drag his daughter into his games. 

He placed his arm over her shoulder, portraying a united front, a warning to anyone that would seek to bring her harm that he would deal with them swiftly. He may be the Lord of a peaceful house but that did not mean he did not know how to fight or that he wouldn’t commit whatever violence was needed to protect his family.

She stayed by her father’s side for the rest of the night, sharing looks of mourning with Aemond as he was sequestered to his mother’s side, unable to escape the politicking unfolding at the head table of Royals. 

As the celebration was winding down, most taking their leave for the night, she bid her father goodnight and sulked out of the large hall. 

She knew whatever reservations Aemond’s grandsire had of her would keep him from her, that there was no use in hoping for another moment with him. 

She shouldn’t have been so upset, she had practically the entire day with him and all her previous days, but that somehow didn’t stop the twisting of her insides as the thought of his own family disliking her, of there being some kind of plot to keep her away from him. 

The sound of her name being called made her raise her head, a smile growing instantly at the sight of Aemond waving her over. 

“Where are you going?”

“I was headed to my chambers. I thought the celebration was over.”

Aemond took her hand and pulled her along with him.  “Not yet.”

She smiled along with him, happily following him. As he guided her out of the Keep, her smile began to falter slightly in confusion.

“Where are we going?”

“Aegon said he had a surprise.”

An uneasy feeling began to fester within her. She didn’t particularly like any time she had spent with his older brother. She didn’t trust a single thing about him. Thoughts of the pink dread came to mind and she quickly held back the bitterness that grew. She didn’t want to doubt Aemond, but she had little hope this surprise would be a showing of brotherly love. 

As the two of them snuck passed the gates, a hooded figure waited for them. 

Aegon’s smirk dropped the moment he spotted the two of them hand in hand. 

“What the bloody hell is she doing here?”

“Aegon.” Aemond admonished. 

“I didn’t invite her, I invited you.”

“She’s my friend. She has every right to join us.”

The disdain on his face faltered slightly and soon morphed into a devious smirk, a laugh leaving his curled lips, one that made her stiffen.

“I do hope you enjoy the surprise, My Lady.” He drawled, the sickly sweet tone of his voice making her want to squirm and head back to the safety of her chambers. 

But Aemond’s hand in hers kept her in place, her stride matching his as they followed Aegon. 

The further they ventured from the familiarity of the Red Keep, the tighter Aemond’s grip on her hand became, his suspicions rising as they continued their trek deeper into the streets of Flea Bottom. 

He pulled her into his side as they passed a tavern, the rowdy sounds inside and the groups of drunken men they passed making his body stiffen. 

“Aegon, what are we doing down here?” He called to his older brother. 

No response was given and Aemond grit his teeth in annoyance. He should’ve known better than to trust his brother. 

They came to a nondescript door and Aegon turned to face them, that smug smirk still on his face that made her hand twitch, longing to smack it right off his face. 

“Well, brother, you’re almost a man grown. I think it’s time you get it wet.”

Aemond’s eyes narrowed, confusion twisting his features as a pit of dread began to grow within him. Aegon opened the door and motioned them inside. 

When the two of them stood still in their spot, Aegon rolled his eyes and gripped onto the front of Aemond’s shirt, yanking him forward, his hand still clasped tightly in hers pulling her along with him, the two of them stumbling through the door ungracefully. 

The scantily clad women that filled the room made Aemond’s lone eye widen. He turned to his brother, his face red with both shame and anger. 

“Aegon, why are we here?”

“Don’t be so uptight, Aemond.” His brother waved him off, brushing past them to be welcomed into the arms of a whore he frequented. 

He was quickly guided off to a room, leaving the two of them to remain standing at the door stiffly, their shocked eyes taking in the room before them.

A group of women soon surrounded them, pulling Aemond away from her. 

He tensed as hands ran down his arms and he shook them off, his head craning to catch a glimpse of his friend. He called out her name, but if she gave any response it was drowned out by the tittering laughter of the women in front of him.

“Is she your betrothed?”

“We can help you, teach you how to please her.”

“We’ll make you a God, My Prince.”

Aemond’s face twisted in disgust at the filth they began to spout, shrugging off their wandering hands, flinching as a hand landed on his thigh, slowly beginning to creep upwards.

“Don’t touch me.” He snapped, his heart beginning to race as a dreadful feeling overcame him. 

He remembered it well, what it was like to not be in control. He remembered what happened the last time he had felt this helpless, wanting to scream but knowing no one was listening, no one caring about his discomfort. His scar flared with pain at the memory and he winced, pushing the woman who was trying to crawl into his lap away from him.

He called out her name again, panic seeping through his tone. 

He stumbled over his own feet in his haste to escape the gaggle of whores that tried to tempt him. He pushed them out of his way, one goal in his mind, one face he desperately needed to see. 

Across the room, he spotted her, his chest tightening as he saw the discomfort on her face as many pairs of hands tangled through her hair and pulled at her dress. 

“You’re a pretty little thing.”

“Just imagine when your tits come in, you’ll put all of us out of work. The men will be lining up to take a turn with you.”

“Don’t worry, Honey. We can prepare you so it won’t hurt too much when your old husband beds you.”

The whores’ words made her stomach clench and she squirmed under their hands that attempted to get her out of her clothes. 

The feeling of lips caressing her neck made her flinch, a small squeak of surprise escaping her before she could even fully realize what was happening. 

“Get off her.” A stern voice spoke.

She let out a stunted breath as she realized it was Aemond. She reached out and within a second, he hauled her up and wrapped her under his arm as he pushed their way out of the brothel. 

A ragged breath left him as the stench of perfume finally lifted, the debauched sounds of the pleasure house muffled and distant as the door closed behind them. He looked down at the girl under his arm and a bolt of worry shot through him at the sight of her blank stare.

A low hum rang in her ears, her body trembling slightly as it tried to make sense of what had just happened, of what could have happened. 

“Hey, look at me, please.” His pleading voice came through and she slowly raised her head, her gaze meeting his worried eye. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know what he was planning. I never should have trusted him.” He rambled, his own voice wavering slightly, his trembling hands moving to cup her cheeks. “I swear to you, I never would have come if I had known.”

“It’s ok.” She breathed out quietly. 

He sighed, the fear on her face still evident. 

“Are you alright?”

She nodded wordlessly and he winced, the gesture so unconvincing he quickly wrapped her in a tight hug. 

“I’ll take you back to the Keep.” 

She looked down the darkened alley fearfully, the thought of making her way through the streets of Flea Bottom so late had dread settling in her stomach. 

“It’s ok.” Aemond assured her, taking her hand in his, noting the unease in her eyes. “I’ll keep you safe. I promise.” 

They began to walk, the silence between them stifling, something so unfamiliar to the inseparable pair. 

“I’m sorry.” She began quietly. “You don’t need to- you can stay if you wish. I don’t want to ruin your night.” 

Aemond stopped in his tracks, his lone eye wide with horror as he looked at her in complete shock.

“I don’t- no! I didn’t want- this wasn’t-” He was at a loss for words. He blew out a long breath, cursing Aegon profusely in his head. “I don’t want to… do what Aegon does.” He explained vaguely, unable to bring himself to speak of his brother’s depravity in front of her. 

The insinuation of him acting like Aegon, of sullying himself with the same debauchery that brought his family shame made his stomach twist. He never wanted her to see him like that, he never wanted her to think he would ever act like his brother.

Aemond ran a hand through his hair. “Fucking twat.” He mumbled under his breath. He wanted to throttle Aegon 

A small giggle met his ears and he looked at her, slightly bewildered by the small upturning of her lips he saw, so unlike the fear he had seen etched in her eyes just seconds before. 

“I’ve never heard you swear.”

He let out a small noise of surprise, unsure if she was truly smiling or if it was a ruse to placate him.

“So unbecoming of a Prince.” She jested and he let himself laugh, her sarcasm, her humor so like the girl he knew that it was enough to ease his worry. 

He liked his arm through hers, holding her closely to his side as they began to walk again. 

“Did this ruin your name day?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

He looked over at her thoughtfully. His day began with her, her excited smile beaming as she demanded he open her present, her at his side loyally all day. No one had ever been so attentive to him, not even on past name days. 

“No.” He answered honestly. Nothing could ruin the content she gave him, the feeling of being wanted and needed that surrounded him when she was around was stronger than any blow of shame Aegon could deliver.

Neither of them spoke of that night, the both of them too embarrassed by what they had seen and heard to say anything about it. 

Though the seeds of lust were planted. 

As the years passed and they grew older, their childhood innocence dissipating into adult desires and longing, it became harder to deny what was between them. The looks that passed between them were no longer the shared smiles of childhood friends, they were the looks of longing that stirred the shared hunger that grew steadily with each passing day.

After that night, she loathed to think of her friend, her Aemond, venturing back there with Aegon, indulging those whores, laying with them, letting them touch him, his own hands greedily touching every inch of their bodies. The thought of him laying with another was like a lance to the heart. 

The same dread plagued Aemond. 

He made himself sick thinking of his friend, the girl he always simply considered to be his, indulging one of the many suitors that ogled her.

Aemond thought of what those whores had told her, that she would have to lay with a husband leagues older than her and endure the lackluster and, most likely violent, attempts to produce an heir. 

The thought had his insides twisting. The thought of any man with their hands on her sent fury racing through him. 

As they grew, he couldn’t help but find his thoughts of her drifting to ones that would be considered less than innocent, not thoughts one should be having of a dear friend. 

He couldn’t help but admire her curves, the dip of her cleavage she had no trouble showing in the low cut gowns she wore around the Keep. It drove him crazy. 

It was becoming more and more common that he would wake, his thoughts racing of images of her lingering from his dreams. He would roll over, imagining she was laying next to him in his bed, tangled within his sheets, her sweet smile his first sight of the day. 

He had no time to feel guilty as his hand ventured below his sheets, as he found his hard length that was more often than not standing at attention to the thought of her. 

He would let his eye close, imagining her hand taking his place, of her sweet mouth taking him in, of the praises she would give him as he took her over and over, the sound of her delectable moans and pleas for him. 

His mouth would part with panting breaths as he thought of the pleasure he could give her, of the pleasure he longed to give her and the pleasure she would bestow upon him. 

His hand would speed as he neared his end, his body writhing among his silken sheets, his head fallen back against his pillow as he pictured her face, what it would look like as he brought her to climax.

The thought, as always, was his undoing. 

His lips parted with a long groan, the raspy call of her name becoming familiar to the walls around him. He panted as he expelled the last spurts of spend on his stomach, his limbs feeling weak as he let his fantasy dissipate. 

He didn’t know how much longer he could continue without having her in his arms. He didn’t know how he could endure meeting her gaze with such filthy thoughts of her in his mind. 

Later that day, as he caught her eye as she sat with the ladies of the court, he felt his face flush, the images of her he conjured in the privacy of his chambers rushing back to him. 

The warm smile and small wave she sent him only incensed him further, leaving him to contemplate for a few long moments whether he should neglect his training with Ser Criston to return to his chambers and deal with the heat she had unknowingly spread throughout his body that was undoubtedly weak for her. 

He was doomed to her.

The longer he repressed his growing feelings for his best friend, the more he couldn’t get her off his mind. 

He woke early one morning to avoid passing her by, knowing with one mere look at her he would be a distracted, bumbling mess for the rest of the day. He was determined to get through at least one training session without his thoughts drifting to her. 

He had been successful for a short time, managing to best Ser Criston time and time again, his focus purely on the weapon he wielded with precision. 

Until he heard that familiar laugh, a sound so purely wonderful, it almost knocked him off his feet. 

His gaze wandered around the training yard before they found her, as he always would, her arm linked through Helaena’s their smiles wide as they watched the training commence.

As if sensing his gaze on her, she turned her head, her eyes meeting his. She smiled, the sight blindingly beautiful. He sent her a wave, hoping the blush on his cheeks wasn’t as severe as it felt. 

The sound of a throat clearing beside him broke him out of his daze and he turned sharply to meet the knowing smirk of Ser Criston.

“Shall we continue or are you done for the day?”

The knight’s tone implied he knew exactly what thoughts had been running through the Prince’s mind the moment he saw his dear friend. Anyone with eyes and half a working brain could see the affection the Prince and the Ixtal girl held for each other. 

Aemond grit his teeth, sending a glare the knight’s way as he spun his sword effortlessly, a flagrant display of his prowess with his beloved blade. 

“I am more than ready to continue, but if you require a break I will gladly find another opponent to knock into the dirt.” 

Criston snorted and raised his sword, giving the young Prince he had valiantly trained a pointed look. 

With one last gaze up to the woman on the balcony, the sly wink she sent him giving him all the drive needed, he raised his sword and struck a deadly swing towards his mentor who scrambled to block it. 

His heart raced with adrenaline. The wink she had sent him igniting the fire in his blood, only incenting him to display his power to her, determined to win, determined to show her his strength. 

He wasn’t a boastful man, he left those frivolities to his older brother, but when it came to her he suddenly didn’t recognize the feelings within him, the desires that had taken root that seemed to unravel him to his most basic senses. 

Up on the balcony she repressed a shiver as she watched Aemond fight with an ease that made her body heat and caused her mind to conjure things her Septa would’ve slapped her for ever thinking as an unmarried woman.

“He’s very good.” Helaena commented, not noticing the desire now lingering in her friend’s eyes. 

“Yes, he is.” She murmured, attempting to shake herself from thoughts of him handling her in the delicate yet deliberate way he did his sword.  

Later that night, as she and her father joined the Targaryen family for dinner, she couldn’t get her mind off of what she had seen in the training yard. She couldn’t help the nervous flutters that erupted within her as she took her seat in between Helaena and Aemond.

It was her usual seat, she had spent too many dinners to count by his side, but for reasons she couldn’t quite understand - or refused to - she suddenly felt bashful in her friend’s presence. 

The smile he sent her in greeting made her stomach flip.  

She could barely concentrate on anything besides his presence beside her. She was sure she was about to crumble into a puddle as his fingers brushed against hers as he passed her the jug of wine. 

She took greedy swallows of the drink, hoping it would dull her sense enough to withstand the looks he sent her every now and again, his smile warm, his gentle affection subtle but enough to undo her completely. 

As Helaena engaged her in conversation, telling her one of the many stories of her beloved twins, she let her thoughts of Aemond dissipate, smiling softly to her dear friend who glowed with her love of her children. 

She listened intently, allowing her nerves to retreat to the shadows of her mind. 

As conversations around the table continued, she let her eyes wander curiously. She turned her head, catching Aemond’s gaze already on hers. He straightened and abruptly tore his eye back to the plate in front of him, though the blush that grew on his cheeks was undeniable. 

A shock of excitement rushed through her at his reaction, suddenly realizing she wasn’t as hopeless as she had thought. She thought back to all the times she had caught Aemond looking at her, all the times he sought her out before anyone else, all the times he had abandoned whatever it was he was doing just to see her and spend a mere moment together. 

She suddenly wondered if it meant as much to him as it did to her. 

She wondered if her dear friend was caught in the same haze of longing she found herself drowning in. 

~~

The slamming of the door made her flinch, the book she was reading slipping from her hands. She sat up straighter when she noticed Aemond standing rigid, his chest heaving with heavy breaths as he tried to rein in his anger.

“What happened?”

“My fucking grandsire.” He seethed. 

She remained seated and silent, allowing Aemond to vent out his anger. 

“They want to betrothe me to some Baratheon girl.” He explained as he began to pace erratically. “They’re bringing her to court for the Summer Feast. They expect me to do my duty with that plain-” He stopped himself abruptly before any insults could pass his lips. 

She frowned, setting her book aside. 

“Tell them you don’t wish to marry her.”

Aemond hummed, the sound more bitter than she had ever heard it. “My grandsire isn’t as agreeable as your father.” 

He knew the Lord of Ixtal had vetoed a number of requests for his daughter’s hand at her request. He didn’t want his daughter shackled to a man she did not desire. 

He wished his family was as caring to his needs as hers was. 

“Well, I guess you need to find the love of your life before the Baratheon girl arrives.”

Aemond looked over at her plainly, clearly not in the joking mood. 

“This is not funny.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t see what the issue is. Tell your family this isn’t what you want.”

“They don’t care about what any of us want. If they did, Helaena wouldn’t be forced at Aegon’s side.” 

She frowned at the mention of her dear friend and what she had to endure with her drunken leech of a husband. 

“I’m running out of time.” Aemond sighed, running a hand over his face. “I’ve been able to keep them at bay the past few years, but they’re becoming more incessant, I can’t stall any longer.”

The thought of being forced to marry some girl he didn’t know, a girl who would never compare to the woman in front of him, the woman he longed for, desired before he even knew what it meant to desire a woman, left him feeling hollow. 

“I’m sorry. I wish I could solve this for you, but I don’t think your mother would take too kindly to my meddling.”

Aemond huffed out a laugh at the thought. He looked at his friend curiously, noting how cavalier she found the idea of marriage.

“Isn’t your father putting pressure on you to marry?”

“Not exactly. He’s hinting at the time coming for me to go back home, but no plans have been made just yet.”

Her words made his stomach twist. The thought of her leaving King’s Landing, of not seeing her everyday, was unfathomable. 

“They don’t have a courtship lined up for you?”

“No. Who I marry is my decision.”

“Is it that easy?”

She breathed out a small laugh at his disbelieving tone.

“Ixtal isn’t as conservative as King’s Landing. We don’t force people to be together, we don’t expect women to wait to find pleasure until marriage. We don’t expect a fruitful marriage to come from sexual disappointment.”

Aemond blushed at her words, his eyes darting to the wall behind her, unable to keep her gaze as she spoke of things his mother would’ve slapped their wrists for.

“My mother said marriage is for the sake of duty. To unite strong houses.”

She scoffed, sending her friend a pointed look of disappointment.

“You’re forced to marry for every reason other than your own happiness. It’s barbaric.”

“It is duty.”

“So you just accept it? Being tied to someone you don’t love for the rest of your life?”

“Some grow to love each other.” He said quietly, though he couldn’t deny how undesirable the customs, one he had known his entire life, sounded to his own ears.

“So if you’re betrothed to a Baratheon daughter, you’ll accept it?”

“No, of course not.” He answered immediately, his tone sharper than he intended. 

“Why? You’ll have to marry someday. Soon I’ll need to go home and find myself a nice man to settle with.”

The reminder of his time with her coming to an end made it feel as though his heart was turning to stone. Her previous words about Ixtal’s customs suddenly came screaming back to him and his hands tightened into fists, fury rising within him at the thought of men touching her, kissing her, making love to her.

“Aemond.” 

The sound of that beautiful voice saying his name made him look up, the anger inside him washing away at the knowing look on her face. She stood from her seat and took slow steps towards him until she was only inches away, making his throat tighten at the closeness he was constantly longing for. 

The unspoken things between them bubbled to the surface, reaching a boiling point as they looked at each other in the dim light, the topic of conversation causing tensions to run high, threatening to reveal true emotions that were kept hidden for so long.

“Eventually, you’ll have to marry, and so will I. We’ll have to do our duty, as you say.”

He swallowed thickly, his eyes unable to hold her gaze any longer, falling onto his hands that clenched and unclenched as waves of anxiety passed through him.

She sighed heavily and stepped past him, moving towards the door. She loved so many things about Aemond, but his refusal to feel anything but anger, his stubborn nature to speak his true thoughts, angered her.

“I don’t want you to go back to Ixtal.” He admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. But she heard him. She would always hear him. 

“Why?”

“Because you belong here.” He told her, his gaze rising to pierce into hers, his tone becoming sharp once more. “Because the thought of you going home, marrying some man that doesn’t deserve you, makes me furious. The thought of you-” He stopped abruptly, looking away from her, his hands clenched tightly.

“Would you be jealous knowing another man has touched me?”

Aemond’s jaw clenched as he turned on his heel and moved towards her so they were now chest to chest. He had to fight hard to keep his composure, to not close his eyes in bliss at the feeling of her body against his.

“I would kill every man that dared to touch you.”

A devious smirk grew on her lips, one he wanted to kiss away desperately. 

“Would you feel jealous if-”

“Yes.” She answered immediately, shamelessly. She smirked at the way his breath hitched, as the hunger in his eye grew tenfold. “I don’t share.”

Aemond almost choked on his breath at her insinuation. 

Her arms slithered over his shoulders, pulling him in closer to her, close enough they could feel the other’s heart racing wildly. 

“You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.” She whispered and Aemond could’ve sworn he would melt into the floor into a puddle of nothing. 

Her lips crashed onto his and he was powerless against her touch. He kissed her back with a furious desperation, revealing every ounce of desire he held for her. He needed her like the air he breathed and it was never more evident in the way his lips molded against hers, in the way his tongue tangled with hers, how his hands held to her hips tightly, ensuring she couldn’t part from his side. 

Her nails scratched against the leather of his doublet as she kissed him fiercely, hoping he would understand, hoping the hunger in her kiss and touch was enough to make him realize she didn’t want anyone but him. 

His mind was blank save for thoughts of her. 

The duty he had adhered to his entire life, the duty that had been instilled in him since his birth, didn’t exist. His duty to his mother, to his grandfather, didn’t exist as he kissed her. 

He knew then and there that he was going to marry her, his only friend, the beautiful girl that had his young heart racing, or he wouldn’t marry at all. 

They pulled away from the kiss, the both of them breathing heavily, neither parting too far from the other. Aemond smiled softly and let his forehead rest against hers. 

“I won’t marry her.” He breathed out in promise, his chest tightening pleasurably as he saw the smile that grew on her kiss swollen lips. 

“Iksā ñuhon, issa prūmia.” He whispered and placed a soft, slow kiss to her lips once more. 

Her mind was racing. She knew few Valyrian words but none sounded familiar. 

“What does that mean?” 

Aemond just smiled and kissed her again, content to stay in that moment for the rest of his life. 

The gravity of their actions, the realization that anyone could have walked into the library and saw them, could have told his mother or his grandfather, didn’t catch up to him until he had parted from her side and settled into bed for the night. 

He lay rigid, his mind racing, his heart heavy with guilt. 

If anyone had seen them it would have ruined her reputation. She’d be painted as a whore. The court would speculate what other Lord she’d kissed or opened her legs to. 

Aemond couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t ruin her. 

The next morning, every ounce of bliss he had felt with her lips against his was tainted with worry. He found her in the gardens, his cold stare softening as he spotted her sitting with Helaena and the twins. 

The sight of her with little Jaeheara in her arms made his heart stop for a moment. He swallowed thickly, desperately moving past the emotions, the longing, the sight stirred within him. 

“Good morning, brother.” Helaena greeted him brightly. 

He just nodded briefly in greeting, his posture stiff as his gaze landed on her. 

“Can we talk?”

Her smile faltered slightly and she placed the babe in her arms back to her mother before taking his offered arm, Aemond guiding them away from prying ears. 

“Is everything alright?”

“What happened yesterday-”

“Do you regret it?” She asked stiffly, her worry evident as her grip on his arm became lax, as if she suddenly wanted to be anywhere but by his side. 

“No! Never.” He responded frantically, his eyes leaving hers to take in their surroundings, making sure no one would hear them. “Yesterday was��� it was long overdue.” 

“Then why are you so tense?” 

“No one can know.” 

She sighed heavily, her shoulders sagging. 

“The rumors that would spread if people saw us together would ruin you.”

“I think you’re giving the court too much credit.” She responded flippantly, her annoyance growing at Aemond’s worry. “Are you going to let me have a say in this or are we going to let the court decide our future for us?”

He spoke her name softly in exasperation, sparking her anger. She wrenched her arm out of his and walked a few paces to gain distance from him. She couldn’t think clearly so close to him. 

“If you weren’t being truthful yesterday then tell me. Spare me the lies and tell me how you truly feel.” 

“I wasn’t lying.” He assured her, his heart beginning to race in fear for where this conversation was headed. He loathed to hear the doubt in her voice. “I refuse to marry the Baratheon girl, I only want you.” He told her, his voice much quieter than before. 

The fire in her eyes dissipated, her fears subsiding and she stayed still in her spot as he stepped towards her, closing the distance between them. 

“We must keep this between us for now, at least until my father is more lucid and I can take our betrothal to him. I cannot let my grandfather know of this. He will only find a way to speed up a wedding to the Baratheon girl or any other Lady in the Keep.” 

She looked up at him with a smirk, her heart jumping at his words. 

“Betrothal?”

Aemond flushed and cleared his throat, as if the words were tightening his throat.

“Well, yes… is that not what-”

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” She spoke in an overly saturated tone, interrupting his nervous words. He looked at her fiercely, his lone eye betraying every ounce of lust, longing, and annoyance he held for her games.

“You will never stop vexing me, will you?”

“I am certain you love it.” She teased, his swiftly pink turning cheeks all the answer she needed from him. She straightened, clearing her throat, as she moved back to the matter at hand. “So we must sneak around?” 

He looked regretful, his hands gently taking hers. 

“I know it’s not ideal.”

She shrugged. “If that is the only way I can have you now, then I can live with it.”

Aemond smiled, a breath of relief leaving his lips, the heavy weight on his chest dissipating quickly. 

A smirk grew on her lips, one he knew signaled mischief. 

“So, that means we’d have to remain as friends in public.” She surmised, stepping closer to him, much too close, as their chests brushed against each other. “But behind closed doors…”

Aemond swallowed, his eyes fluttering closed as she leaned in, his lips brushing against his ear as she spoke. 

“...I can do what I want with you.” 

Aemond cleared his throat, desperately trying to keep a hold of what little control he had left. 

“When we are behind closed doors, which we are not.” He reminded her, sounding exasperated, making her laugh softly. 

She loved the effect she had on him.

“Meet me in my chambers tonight.” She whispered and placed a soft, barely there, kiss to his cheek, before leaving his side and making her way back to Helaena, leaving him with pink cheeks and a racing heart.

Night couldn’t have come fast enough. He spent the day training vigorously, Ser Criston taking the brunt of his pent up anticipation with round after round of sparring. His knee bounced impatiently throughout dinner, paying no mind to his mother’s attempts to bring him into the conversations he couldn’t bother to focus on. 

He waited, long, torturous hours, until the sun had finally set and night descended on the Keep, the halls clearing as Lords, Ladies and their servants alike settled in for the night. 

He paced in his room for longer than he would ever admit, his nerves bubbling low in his stomach, his hands twitching as he longed to reach for a goblet of wine to ease his worries. 

He knew if his mother were to ever discover he had entered a lady’s chambers in the dead of night, let alone a Lady he was undeniably close to, she would slap him until he found his sense once again. 

Though no amount of worry, no guilt over his allegiance to his duty could ever be enough to overtake what he felt for her, what he had unknowingly felt for so long. 

With only his desire to see her, he purposefully strode across his room and pushed at the stone wall, silently thanking his brother for drunkenly revealing to him the secret passageways years ago.

 It only took a few minutes until he found her door. With a deep breath, he stepped in slowly, his eyes immediately finding her as she sat at her vanity, brushing her hair. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed the sheer slip she wore as she readied herself for bed. 

He cleared his throat, feeling a blush quickly and involuntarily growing on his cheeks as her eyes rose to meet his. 

“You came.” She smiled. 

“Of course I did.”

She got to her feet, taking slow steps towards him, as if he were a wild animal that would spook if she got too close too quickly. She knew he had a strong sense of duty, of what behavior was becoming of a princely man, it had been instilled in him by his family since he was born.

She knew he was breaking every single one of those lessons by being in her room so late at night. 

“You know we do not have to sneak around. You can wait to court me as is proper.” She reminded him, hoping to ease his discomfort.

“I can’t take that risk.” He spoke smoothly, as if it didn’t even require a second thought. “I can’t take the chance that we will be denied. I can’t lose you before I’ve even had you.”

She smiled, her heart jumping in anticipation.

“So take me while you can.”

Barely a second later Aemond had crossed the room, his hands cradling her face gently as he crashed his lips to her, kissing her passionately, revealing every ounce of his desire for her. 

She moaned happily against his lips, the noise forcing his body to tighten, every shred of control he thought he possessed gone in an instant. 

They kissed as if they had been lovers for years, as if he had been gone for so long and they couldn’t wait to reunite as only lovers could. 

His hands greedily roamed the curves he had admired for years. Her hands wove into his silken hair she had braided many times as children. The innocence was gone between them, no childlike wonderment left, leaving only their loving, lustful desires. 

They pulled away after a few minutes, the both of them breathing heavily, their swollen lips turning upwards into a shared smile as their eyes met, the pure bliss in his lone eye matching hers. 

He moved in again, desperate to get her lips back on his, but her hands on his chest stopped him. His brows furrowed, a strike of worry lashing him as he gazed at her in concern. 

“I want to see all of you.” Her quiet voice spoke, her delicate touch framing his face, her fingers slowly canting upwards to trace the edge of his scar. 

He flinched instinctively, having never felt the touch of another there, but almost instantly calmed as he stared into her eyes that reflected nothing but love and trust. 

She had been there for him through everything, she had been the only one to see him for more than his title, to respect him as he was, simply a boy trying to find his place in the world. 

He let out a shuddering breath, allowing his forehead to rest against hers as he built up the courage he needed to reveal his eye to her.

“Every part of you is beautiful, Aemond. I have known that for years and I certainly won’t think differently tomorrow.” She reassured him, her velvet voice melting the hardened resentment within him. 

He swallowed against the tightness in his throat and reached up slowly, willing his hands not to tremble as he grasped the patch over his eye. Slowly, he pulled it off, revealing the sparkling sapphire in place of his eye. 

A small laugh left her, scaring him momentarily until he saw the delight in her gaze rather than mocking cruelty as he had suddenly feared. 

“I can’t believe you really listened to me.” 

He smiled bashfully, remembering a conversation years ago, when she had suggested he put a ruby in place of his eye to resemble that of a dragon eye. He never told her when he took her suggestion, feeling too silly to divulge such a thing. 

“Well, I’m sorry it’s not a ruby.”

She shook her head, her smile never faltering. “Why did you pick a sapphire?”

“It reminded me of the sea.” He stated simply, watching with bashful satisfaction as her smile smoothed out, her expression one of touched devotion.

He always told her she reminded him of the calming and luxurious blue waves that crashed on the shores of Ixtal, the waves he had become mesmerized by the day he met her. 

“It’s beautiful.” She breathed out, feeling unable to take her eyes off the shining gem that made the man in front of her look even more ethereal than he already did. 

Her eyes found the gem between every breathless and fiery kiss, somehow lingering as he pulled his clothes off, remaining, as if for comfort, as she bared herself to him for the first time. 

It was a beacon to her, the guiding light in the ferocity of a storm, calming every one of her nerves as she was reminded he was hers just as she was his, as they always had been. 

She felt as though there were sparks igniting under her skin as he touched her. She felt herself melt under his delicate fingers that curiously roamed her body. She felt beautiful under his awed gaze as he eagerly took in every inch of her, as if she were a divine entity he would soon bow to. 

The second a gasp escaped her as his fingers found the wetness between her thighs, Aemond’s eye snapped to hers. He watched with wonderment as she vocalized her pleasure, pleasure that was because of him. 

She smiled against his lips as he suddenly kissed her with a might she had never felt before. She was powerless against his hungry lips. 

He let out a stunted breath at the sound of the whine that fell past her lips as he curled his finger, seeking out her pleasure, eager for it as if it were his own

The two of them never let their eyes wander too far from each other. He watched with a wide, amazed gaze as he brought her to her peak with his fingers, delighting in the pain he felt as her nails dug into his shoulder as her hips grinded against his hand. 

The sounds of her soft moans echoed in his ears, alighting his body with furious desire. 

As he settled between her legs, he looked down at her, his eyes posing his silent question, the devotion she saw from the beauty of his lone eye, that she felt from the gentle touch of the tips of his fingers that traced lines up and down her thighs, was enough to have her nodding immediately, fiery want washing over her. 

He never dared to look away from the depth of her eyes as he delved inside her for the first time. 

He watched her carefully, whispering apologies as she gasped, the foreign feeling making her tense slightly. His gentle caresses, his soft kisses down the length of her neck, the words of praise he gave her, were enough to soothe her, her body relaxing, the pain fading.

He began to thrust slowly, the pleasure soon becoming too much and his eye fell closed as he shuddered from the delirious pleasure of being inside of her, but he forced himself to bring his gaze back to her, taking in the starry eyed look in her own. 

Their hands never left each other, Aemond gripped her hips as if he feared she would soon be forced away from him, her hands gripping onto his shoulders to ground herself in the wake of the unexpected pleasure he brought her. 

His nose brushed against hers as he kissed her softly, his hips finding a rhythm that made them both sigh in delight. He felt his limbs tremble, his resolve slipping the longer he stayed inside her, quickly realizing nothing in his entire existence would ever compare to this, to being with her, the woman he loved more than life itself. 

“Aemond.” She breathed out, pleading for him, pleading for this never to end, to never lose each other. 

He squeezed his eye shut briefly, his movements becoming more controlled as he let his body adjust to the ecstasy he was feeling. 

“You’re mine.” He panted, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb caressing her soft skin affectionately. “You will always be mine.” 

She nodded frantically, a moan falling past her lips as he found the spot inside her that made stars explode before her. 

The noise had Aemond gritting his teeth, a desperate growl sounding and he knew this would be ending soon. 

He quickened his movements, his hips rolling rapidly against hers. He choked out a surprised sounding moan as her legs wove around his waist, pulling him in deeper. 

“Oh, Gods, I can’t-”

“Give it to me, Aemond. I want it. I want all of you.” She replied frantically, the growl in his voice causing goosebumps to rise on her skin. 

She watched, entirely raptured by the sight before her as Aemond’s jaw dropped, his eye widening before slamming shut, his body trembling as a loud, desperate sounding groan fell from his lips. His hips became erratic, his movements becoming sloppy as he came hard, untethered from his control.

She gasped at the feeling, the tingling in her spine spreading until it burst, a cry of his name sounding in the room as she fell off the edge just a moment behind him. 

Aemond slumped against her, his chest heaving alongside her own, his shuddering breaths cooling the skin at her shoulder where his head rested. 

She ran her hands over his muscled shoulders and found their way into his hair and she began to run her fingers through his mussed strands gently as she found her way back to her body.

After a moment of quiet as their breathing relaxed, Aemond raised his head, his eye finding hers, her gaze locking onto the gem once more, their shared smiles bashful. 

A soft giggle sounded from her and Aemond wanted to melt into her all over again. He rested his head against hers, placing a soft kiss to her lips. 

“I love you.” He whispered in the quiet room. 

“I love you.” She told him with just as much honesty and devotion as had sounded in his voice. 

~~

ENJOY! XX

[two-white-butterflies]

★ — it was all yellow | carlos sainz

Description: After finding Carlos in bed with an internet starlet, you decided to break up with him. 5 years later, you meet him again.

Pairing: actress/singer!reader/carlos sainz

Trope: Secret Baby Trope

Disclaimer: Everything written in this fanfic holds no truth about anyone's personality or actions. It is made purely for entertainment.

A/N: I got so many requests for this typa trope and I only got the idea now. Super sorry for the 6 month delay WAHHAHA.

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yn.ln: the vibe that we bring to the function. btw 💚 HOTDS2 is out!

liked by danielricciardo and 71,923 others

>comments

danielricciardo: Helaena Targaryen >>> - edited: Helaena Targaryen <<<

echibano82: MAN!! 😭

ynforever: the rise and fall of a midwest princess is my fav album of urs

formula.unoworld: sainz fumbled a baddie

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because.official: Carlos and Pinon 😘❤️ #MyHeart

liked by carlossainz55 and 6,293 others

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foreveryoung78: Wake up Carlos the fatherhood allegations are strong today

solonglondon: U ever heard of a boy named Pablo Sainz? 😳

bestfriendsfw: miss Because...go and tell ur mans - landofanbase: HER NAME ALWAYS TAKES ME OUT 😭 WHY IS HER STAGE NAME "BECAUSE"

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WHO IS CARLOS SAINZ'S NEW GIRLFRIEND? BECAUSE...

Brezziana Aziza, whose stage name is Because has gained fame because of her relationship with Formula One Driver Carlos Sainz Jr. Previously known on social media as an influencer who vlogs about her daily life, netizens began to call her "Because" well because of her excessive use of that word.

Although she has stopped using that word since, the name has stuck. She is currently under fire for visiting a Shein Factory in China. For more details please click this link: Shein sent American influencers to China.

>comments

becauseunitedfanbase: she's so funny n quirky i get it why carlos loves her

breatheinlouder: if pablo does belong to sainz, brezziana broke a family up - corduroy8chan: the family broke because sainz allowed it to be broken, she's homewrecker because...? - becauseunitedfanbase: more like home renovator

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Just an Inchident (Charles L., Max V., Lando N., Carlos S.)

Carlos Sainz holy shit guys did you see twitter

Charles Leclerc Yeah man Is it real?

Lando Norris i did some research and this kid's 6-4 yrs old there's a chance mates

Carlos Sainz how am i even supposed to ask her? it was so awkward when it ended i totally regret doing that to her but im so happy with because now

Charles Leclerc There's a fat chance that the kid is yours man

Lando Norris ask her like a civilized man dude i saw a reel where someone asked her if pablos yours

Max Verstappen Who uses reels mate? 🤣 2 reacted 🤣

Lando Norris well she avoided the question silence means yes if you aren't the father she'd answer it

Carlos Sainz maybe she wants to torture me

Charles Leclerc She's a good person man I don't think that she'll do that Plus she's above using her son for leverage

Carlos Sainz and how do you know that Charles? we haven't spoken to her in years

Max Verstappen She grabs coffee with Victoria on Tuesdays I've actually known about Pablo for a while now

Carlos Sainz 👍🏻 2 reacted 🤣

Max Verstappen 👍🏻 .

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yn.ln: i want a velaryon burial #HOTDS2

liked by 93,192 others

>comments

danielricciardo: the camera quality sucks just letting you know - yn.ln: thanks! i have eyes btw

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yn.ln: A lot of you wanted to comment and ask questions about my son, and I never really posted about him because I'm not like those parents who use their kids on social media for likes and clout.

Five years ago, I gave birth to my first baby, Pablo L/N (09/12/18) and every day has been filled with laughter and warmth 🦋 he was not a secret, but I tried to keep his life private. Now, a lot of people feel like they have the right to know everything about him. What he looks like. Who his father is. I'm telling you that it doesn't matter.

You don't have the right to his face. You don't have the right to know about his family life because it doesn't concern you and it never will.

Thank you so much to my friends!! @danielricciardo @rileykeough #DakotaJohnson and #ChrisMartin

liked by 1,239,901 others

>comments

danielricciardo: ❤️

rileykeough: 🥺 i love you and p

victoriaverstappen: We love you! - yn.ln: thank you vic, playdate with luka and lio soon? - victoriaverstappen: Absolutely!

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

Good morning Dessie.

This is Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist, Daniel Kirkman, in light of the rumors between my client and Miss Y/N L/N we humbly request the truth about Pablo L/N's paternity in order to legally and publicly clear things up. Speaking as your old friend, these past few months have been stressful both physically and mentally. Even if there's a sliver of hope that the kid is Carlos' please update me.

Warm regards, Daniel Kirkman.

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

Good afternoon Mr. Kirkman.

I can see that the years have hardly changed you, you still have horrible email etiquette. Because we are old friends, I spoke to Y/N. Truth is, the things that I'm going to share today will ruin your client's reputation if our emails are ever leaked. Remember the fallout of 2018? We both celebrated New Years in Y/N's Santa Monica House.

Actually, New Years was the day we found out that she was pregnant. Not a doubt in our hearts that the baby was Carlos'. We were about to tell him but the moment we landed in Ibiza, she saw Carlos in bed with Brezziana. (I refuse to call her Because!! BECAUSE it is confusing and preposterous.)

I think that hiding Pablo from his father wasn't right, but I don't blame her for doing it. As for the paternity test, Y/N agreed but the team will come back to you with the legalities and such. As a 'friend' I want to tell you that the best Carlos is ever going to have is him paying child support and seeing the child once or twice a month.

Y/N has a lot of lawyers, more than we do friends. And judging by Carlos' personality, I don't think that he'll fight for his son.

Warm Regards, Destiny Bumgarner

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

Good evening Destiny! What makes you think that Y/N's going to win the legalities? + I never expected you to reveal all of this via chat. You sure that I won't betray you?

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

I got dealt with the winning hand now Dan.

I know you're smart enough not to doubt me. :)

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email to destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com

All is fair in connections and clientele?

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email to danielkirkmanhq@gmail.com (Y/N L/N publicist) from destinybumgarneroffice@gmail.com (Carlos Sainz Jr's publicist)

All is fair in life, Dan.

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oliviacooke: sorry for drinking your juice hun. 📸 pablo l/n

liked by 283,192 others

>comments

yn.ln: haha thanks for carrying his bags liv

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There are only two things. Truth and lies.

Truth is indivisible, hence it cannot recognize itself; anyone who wants to recognize it has to be a lie.

The past that you've tried to bury has slowly began to reveal itself. Maybe it was your fault, you aren't sure...

Carlos Sainz was a horrible man. He cheated on you. He didn't apologize. He admitted that another woman made him happier. Was there something special about her? A simple internet starlet with no proper claim to fame made him feel more alive.

"You've got to face him anyways." Dakota placed a glass of wine on the coffee table. "Pablo isn't his. He doesn't even look like him." you shook your head, unable to accept the inevitable truth.

"I've read all the posts on Twitter, they don't think that I have the right to push my son away from his father. Carlos is immature, I don't think that he's even capable of being a father." you scoff, taking a sip.

Haven't you given your son everything that he needed? An iPad, a big house, private education, and vacations in all the nice places.

"Two wrongs don't make a right." Destiny breathed.

"- from what Kirkman says, Carlos has changed. I don't encourage you to be romantic partners or even best friends, but please be civil for Pablo. Please let him have a civil relationship with his father." she added. "I hate it when you're right." you looked away.

You've seen his posts. You've seen his interviews.

There wasn't a bone in his body that screamed mischievousness anymore. He looked tame. Happier.

He achieved all of that without you, and maybe you could be that too.

You can be everything without him too.

"So you'll talk to him?" Dakota asked.

"I'll give it a try." I relented.

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Look at the stars.

Look how they shine for you.

The music played in the background as you sashayed your way into the VIP section of your friend's restaurant. Destiny was an angel enough to close shop and ensure that your privacy was protected especially in these vulnerable moments.

A sigh escapes your mouth, hearing that song in the background. As much as you adored Chris Martin, this song was getting in your feels.

You take a sharp turn, halting once you see his figure.

The very same man that shattered your world in Ibiza. The very same man that looked you in the eyes while he admitted that someone else made him much much happier than you, his fiancee.

And it was called Yellow.

"Thank you so much for being here, Y/N." your name sounded soft on his lips. Behind his brown eyes, there was sorrow - not to be confused with regret because he looked better than he ever was. "It's been a while, hasn't it?" you chuckled.

While nothing about you has changed.

Carlos has changed drastically.

"Destiny told me about the emails. Your team wanted a paternity test, right? You don't need it, Pablo is yours." you decided to be straightforward, not bothering to sugarcoat the truth.

You could feel that bitterness on your throat, like tears were threatening to spill out of your eyes, like you just swallowed a pill and forgot to drank water afterwards.

"Uhh - I found out on New Years day, and I wanted to tell you in Ibiza." you didn't bother to continue the story. He knows what you mean.

For you I'd bleed myself dry.

"I'm sorry, really sorry for not being a man. I know that we were about to get married, and I got scared. I was 24 years old, everyone was telling me that I had another life ahead of me. I was young. I wanted to ruin my life. I-I shouldn't have brought you with me." he apologized, trying to find the words that could articulate his feelings.

This was all that you needed from him.

An apology.

"When Destiny found out, she grabbed me by the ear. Told me that I could live a hundred lifetimes and never deserve you. I believe her, and I want to do everything to make it up to you and Pablo." he promised, but there were still words unsaid - the turn of his brows telling you that he wasn't willing to return back to normal.

That he still loves Because more than he's ever loved you.

"Do you love her?" you smiled bitterly. Your smile.

Look how they shine for you.

"I betrayed both of you that night. She didn't know that we were dating. She didn't know who I was. I apologized to her and she forgave me, but I realized a few years after that I should've apologized to you too." he admitted. "- I love her, really."

You knew that he wasn't lying.

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destinybumgarner: this is the PINK PONY CLUB

liked by 712 others

>comments

yn.ln: WAHAHAH IM JUST HAVING FUN

danielkirkman: crowns c / o pablo the prince

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part two

A/N What driver or actor should we pair reader with? 😭 comment to get tagged

[bunnis-monsters]

Cat hybrid reader going through her first heat after taking heat suppresent pills all her life with werewolf husband(NSFW obv). This sounds kinda cute in my head.... I can't explain it.... Like getting married and then finally deciding that you want to let yourself go through a natural process which you were suppressing all your life.

Happy 5k! If this isn't something you'll write, I am sorry, please do not block me, I can't tell if this is following the rules or not.

Your husband held your hand as you started the morning without taking your heat suppressant pill for the first time.

You wanted to have kittens with him so badly, and he wanted to fuck you full of pups, so the two of you decided that it was beast for you to temporarily stop taking them so you could mate properly.

“You think it’ll be okay?” he asked, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand.

You frowned, leaning against him. “I’m not sure… it’ll take a few days for the suppressant to leave my system. I’ll find out then…”

And find out you did.

Your husband returned home after a long day of work, only for his cock to immediately strain against his pants when he picked up the smell of your heat. He could hear your desperate little mews from the bedroom, walking in to see you crying and begging for release.

You had never felt such an ache in your cunt, and had never really felt the urge to masturbate so you had no idea what to do. He watched you struggle to finger yourself and play with your clit, your pretty kitty tail rubbing against your fat, wet pussy.

“Poor baby, can’t even make herself cum…”

He fucked his fingers into you, making your back arch. “Mmph! P-please, need more!”

You panted, your body feeling like it was on fire. His fingers were a little help, but it was like throwing a bucket of water on a house fire.

You needed more.

“Shh, sweetheart. Gotta stretch you out, okay? Can you be my good girl and wait for me?”

He moved his fingers in a scissoring motion, trying his best to stretch you out as quickly as possible.

You nearly lost it when you felt him kiss your inner thigh, his lips moving to your fat pussy. He licked your clit, sucking on it as his fingers kept fucking into you.

After a few moments you cried out, cumming on his fingers and writhing on the bed. Orgasming while in heat was like nothing you’d ever felt before!

Your entire body spasmed as he pulled out his fingers from your aching pussy with a wet squelch. It took him a second to compose himself, watching your pussy ooze. There was a mess under your hips already, and your scent alone was driving him insane!

He already towered over you, but now he seemed to loom over your body like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

He rolled you onto your fat tummy, lifting your hips so he could properly mount you. By now, he was going off of pure instinct, ready to breed his fertile little mate.

“Mew…”

You let out a pathetic little meow as he sunk into you. The two of you had sex before, but now it was an entirely different experience.

The pleasure was multiplied tenfold, and he was so much more intense than he had been previously. “Wanna make puppies with you! W-wanna-!”

You buried your face into the pillow as he pounded your kitty cunt. His grip on your tail made you cry out, arching your back so he could reach you better.

Your hips and legs were easily lifted off the bed as he began using your fat pussy to get off, his mind fat gone. You didn’t mind, the feeling of him knotting you and filling your belly with cum over and over again was the only thing helping to calm the heat in your body.

The next day, your mate fussed over you, feeling terrible that he went overboard and lost control.

“I’m sorry, little one… your heat, it just-“

You butted your head against him affectionately, purring as he began to pet you.

“I think it’s what I needed… thank you for being with me for my first heat.”

“Of course… I’m your husband and mate, it’s my responsibility to take care of you.”

The two of you spent the morning cuddling in bed, soft purrs and loving mews filling the air.

——————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @screaming-crying-screamingagain @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljr

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

You Made A Mess Of Me

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual activities, angst, but happy ending. I actually love this sm I'm in my Lewis era and I can't stop myself

The penultimate weekend in June meant only one thing, the Spanish GP. You've been thinking for days whether you should go, after all, too much time has passed since the last time.

You knew that your coming there would cause a huge public reaction and that some people might not be happy to see you, but you couldn't resist. Your curiosity was stronger than you and something you could never fight against.

The last time you attended the GP, you were in a slightly different role than you were now, some would say more important role. That was 2 years ago when you were reputed to be the most popular wag in the paddock. Lewis Hamilton's girlfriend. His greatest support and the woman who he dedicated every victory to.

To Lewis, you were the woman he loved more than life, his everything and more. He proudly presented you to everyone, always mentioned you in interviews, saying that you were his strength and motivation for all his success. When you couldn't attend his races, he was always in a hurry to come back to you, holding you like a drop of water in the palm of his hand.

His love for you could not be described in words. You were the "it couple". Lewis made it well known to everyone that you were his. He really was madly in love with you.

You loved him too. He taught you what love means, he taught you how to love, showed you what love really is. You felt safe next to him and you knew that with him you had everything a woman could want. When you cheered him on at the races, you were the loudest, his most faithful cheerleader who experienced every victory and every defeat together with him.

Everything was perfect until one day when Lewis started hinting that he wanted to take your relationship one step further. Given that you were 25 at the time and he was 37, you knew that he was at the age when he wanted a family and children and he let you know that he wanted that with you.

You panicked, inexplicable anxiety gripped you, you weren't ready to "grow up" completely. You loved him very much, but you also loved yourself and that's why you didn't wanna settle for something you weren't ready for.

You felt that you still wanted to develop yourself as a person before marrying someone, you still wanted to travel with your friends, have fun, enjoy life and youth. You knew you didn't want marriage then, but you also didn't want to make Lewis wait for you and suffer in some way. You wanted him to be happy and achieve everything he wanted, even if it wasn't with you.

And so your perfect three-year relationship came to an end. You moved to Spain, disappeared from Lewis's life overnight and he never heard from you again. Despite his best efforts to reach you and find you, he couldn't. You left him completely heartbroken, desperate, lost, he just wasn't the man he used to be. His world has changed since you left his life.

Later, all the pain and hurt he carried inside him turned into immense anger and rage towards you. You even thought he started to hate you. You knew about it because you heard that in one interview he said, when he was asked about y/n, that that name no longer exists for him.

That's why now that you were invited by Tommy Hilfiger as a special guest to the Spanish GP, you doubted whether it was wise to go.

You didn't really care about the public's reaction, but you were a little afraid of Lewis's reaction. You were afraid to see the contempt in his eyes for you. But still, above all, you were a determined, smart and self-confident girl who knew her values ​​and knew what she wanted. And that's why you accepted the invitation.

Everyone's jaws dropped to the floor when you stepped into the paddock wearing black sunglasses in a tight strapless black dress that perfectly accentuated your curves. You caught everyone's eyes.

As well as the eyes of a man who could not forget you.

"Lewis, I don't wanna upset you before the race, but..she's here." Bono said quietly.

"Who is here?" He asked cluelessly with furrowed eyebrows.

"I-I.." Bono stammered.

"Bono, who is here?"

"Y/n..She's in George's garage."

Lewis froze. His heart dropped and legs buckled when Bono said your name. He thought someone was playing a joke on him, so after a minute of standing still without blinking and the initial shock, he had to go see for himself what he heard.

"Lewis, I don't think it's a good idea to-" Bono tried to stop him, but there was no point in trying to do that. Lewis didn't think for a second, he just sprinted towards his teammate's garage, his racing suit half unbuttoned hanging behind him. He had to see you with his own eyes to believe that you were actually there.

The moment he ran into the garage and saw you there, at first he couldn't believe his eyes, but when you took off your glasses and looked at him, everything came back to him in a second, all the memories, but also the anger.

Your legs went numb as well, your heart fluttered, but you didn't dare to approach him or say anything. The whole room fell silent as the two of you looked at each other. Everyone knew about the two of you and there was an awkward silence that was broken by Lewis himself when he left after half a minute of standing still.

It was minutes before Lewis was supposed to get into the car and he barely recovered from seeing you. He couldn't think straight, and the race was about to start. You here, was the last thing he needed.

At first he couldn't focus, all he thought about was you, but somehow he managed to shift his thoughts to the anger and rage he felt towards you and it woke up that beast in him that he was on the track and after a long long time Lewis finished as the winner of the race. And all thanks to you, although not because he was happy that you were there, but because he decided to take out his anger on the track.

You followed the race with folded hands hoping for the best result from Lewis and when you saw that he finished P1, you didn't show it too much, but there was no an end to your happiness. Your eyes watered and you proudly watched him celebrate. For a moment everything was like before, only in reality, nothing was like before.

In the evening you decided to go out with your friends and of course there were also F1 drivers in that same club, among them Lewis of course, who were celebrating his victory.

You wanted to, but you didn't approach him. You decided to have fun with your friends, you danced and basically acted like he wasn't even there even though you could feel his eyes on you the whole night following who was around you. And since this was Lewis' night he had too much to drink and decided to approach you himself the first moment he saw you headed for the toilet.

Before you stepped into the toilet, you felt a strong grip on your arm pulling you out. You turned around only to see Lewis' bloodshot eyes staring at you.

"Lewis? W-what are you doing?" You stammered.

"You better go outside with me if you don't want me to make a scene here in front of everyone." He said sternly through clenched teeth and that's why you decided not to resist. Attracting bad attention was the last thing you needed.

Of course all eyes were on the two of you as Lewis dragged you out of the club, you just couldn't avoid it. Once you stepped out he took you to the place behind the club where there were the fewest people.

"Did you come today to mess with my head or what?" He spat out.

"I was there on business, not because I wanted to" You half lied.

"Please" He scoffed. "How dare you show up after two years and just before the start of the race? How dare you play with my head like that?" He asked what you were most afraid of before coming.

You gulped before starting a sentence, but he cut you off "I-"

"You fucking put me through hell and back when you left and then one day you just decided to come as a guest out of nowhere?"

"Lewis, I-"

"And then you went out knowing that I'll be there, and you decide to dance and have fun with other guys in front of me as if I wasn't there? You have no fucking shame!" He growled. You understood his anger and it hurt you, it almost made you cry, but you knew this was the alcohol in his system talking.

"As far as I remember, we have not been together for two years" You say fighting to keep your voice from cracking.

"Oh yeah, and about that. Do you feel good knowing that you killed me when you left?" He asks. "You fucking disappeared for your own selfish reasons. Do you know what you did to me when you left my life? You fucking ruined me, y/n!" He screamed in your face and it hurt like hell. "How could you do that to me? I was ready to give you everything, I would've taken the stars out of the sky if you had asked me to, and you did what? You fucking left!"

"I am very well aware of what I did and why. You have no idea how hard it was for me to make that decision, but I wasn't ready to give you what you wanted."

"Yeah, you weren't ready because you still wanted to fuck other guys right?" He insulted, but you couldn't let him talk like that about you because that was far from the truth.

"Don't talk to me like that!" You threatened.

"And why not? Because the truth hurts you? Do you even realize that you were everything to me? I was ready to give it all for you, fuck, I lived for you, y/n! We had a perfect relationship, the kind of that many dreamed of and you ruined it all!"

"I knew what you wanted and I wasn't ready to give you that, Lewis! I was too young and I didn't want to make you wait because I saw in your eyes how much you wanted it!" You couldn't take it anymore. You broke into tears right in front of him. "I didn't leave because I stopped loving you, but quite the opposite because I loved you too much to deny you what you want"

"But I wanted it with you, fuck!!" He screamed clutching his head. "If you weren't ready then, I would have waited for you because I didn't want a family with anyone but you! But you didn't even let me explain it to you because you disappeared from the face of the earth!" He spoke breathlessly.

"I'm sorry..I don't know what else to tell you. Hurting you was the worst thing I could do, I realize that." You cried.

He stepped closer to you and put his cupped your cheeks. "I fucking lived for you, y/n, and you made me a mess of a man" He almost sobbed.

"I suffered too, don't think I didn't. Leaving you was the hardest decision I ever had to make."

"And yet you still did. Getting over you was by far the hardest thing ever. I'm Lewis fucking Hamilton. It's not in my mentality to break down over someone that much and let it completely take over my life and yet you managed to do that to me" He allowed his emotions to overwhelm him and now he was crying too while leaning his forehead against yours. "Please, leave. I don't ever wanna see you again."

His words broke you all over again although you could've expected it, somehow you hoped it wouldn't come to that. He released you from his grip, wiped his tears, composed himself and walked back to the club leaving you outside completely broken and in tears.

You had no choice but to go to the hotel where you were staying at. You didn't feel like having fun or anything anymore, you just wanted to get away from everything and cry your heart out in the silence of your room.

You cried quietly in the taxi all the way to the hotel then you continued in your room. It was already 3 in the morning when you found the strength to take off your makeup and lie down in bed.

All you could think about was did you really make such a mistake by leaving Lewis? You knew you hurt him, but you had no idea to what extent. You lay down in bed and prayed to God to take all your pain away because it was unbearable. The fact that it was your fault hurt even more.

After you left and Lewis returned to the club, he continued to drink and think of you. He knew you left crying and despite everything you did, knowing you were in pain made him hurt even more.

Lewis being Lewis, he found his sources and forced them to tell him which hotel you were staying at. He couldn't help himself, he needed to see you. After all, you were the love of his life. He knew there was no one else for him except for you and that's why he headed towards your hotel and after many threats at the reception he finally got your room number.

You weren't sleeping, you were lying and looking at the ceiling when you heard knocking on your door. At first you were scared, but approached the door anyway asking who it was.

"It's me. Open the door." Lewis said leaning his forehead against the door.

You opened the door not expecting him at all. You couldn't believe he was right there in front of you. You didn't know how he got to you, but at that moment you didn't even care. All you cared about was that he was there.

"Lewis?" You asked quietly as you opened the door. "What are you doing here?"

"To be completely honest, I have no fucking idea." He spoke. "I knew you left crying, and even though you didn't deserve it, I couldn't take it." He stepped in closing the door behind him. You smiled softly through your tears and he moved closer until your back touched the wall behind you.

"I'm here because I still can't wrap my head around the fact that you're not mine" He said.

"If only you knew how much I'm still yours, Lewis"

"Well, unfortunately I don't know, because you haven't done anything for two years to show me that" He slurred putting your cheeks between his hands once again. "But I do know that you're gonna be the death of me" You squeezed your eyes shut at his words.

"Tell me if you have ever found someone who loved you more than me?" He asked.

"I haven't.." There was no point in lying to him. "I wasn't even looking for someone"

"Yeah you didn't and you know why? Because that's not fucking possible." He stated. "Nor have I found anyone who made me feel the things I felt with you. Remember how I always used to hold you close to me while I was fucking you? How I made you look me in the eyes when you were about to cum? How I used to hug your shaking body and press my head against your chest to feel your heartbeat? Do you?"

"I do." You nodded squeezing your thighs a little. Even though you were hurting you couldn't help but get turned on by the things he was saying. Your relationship was full of passion and the sex was the best you ever had. You missed it, you have to admit.

"I can't even call it fucking because I was making love to you." His lips were only inches away from yours and all your attention was focused on them. Your eyes begged him to kiss you.

"I thought I was over you and I could live without you, but then you came back into my life and you messed with my mind once again. You can't do that shit anymore, y/n" He said moving his hands from your face down to your hips tightly gripping them.

"You don't have to live without me anymore because I swear I'm ready to give you everything I couldn't before." You say wrapping your arms around his neck. "I was so wrong, Lew. I miss you. I miss your touch, I miss what we had"

He didn't say anything but finally connected his lips with yours. He kissed you so passionately, so eagerly it brought life back to both of you. He gripped your butt and made you jump up wrapping your arms around his torso. Without breaking the kiss he led you towards the bed gently lying you down, him being on top of you.

"Please, don't make me regret this" He said exhaling in short breaths.

"I'm yours, baby. I've always been." You said breathlessly. "It’s just the two of us I promise..”

[lilislegacy]

In all these instances, Annabeth is going through a terribly stressful situation, and she’s not afraid to admit that she wants Percy to hold her. The only time Annabeth lets herself be truly vulnerable, and feels truly safe, is when she is in Percy’s arms.

She craves to be held by him. And that doesn’t mean she’s weak, or that he’s stronger than her, or that she relies on him to take care of her. It just means that for the first time in her life, she has a pair of arms to collapse into when she’s scared or upset. And yes, she absolutely does the same for Percy and takes care of him too, but it’s slightly different. Percy has always had his mom to love him and take care of him and hold him. Annabeth, however, had to put walls up at a young age. She learned to never rely on anybody else for safety or comfort, because she never consistently had someone loving her or taking care of her.

But now that she has that, it’s not a surprise that she yearns for his affection. Annabeth is touch-starved in a way that Percy isn’t. And she never feels more loved or more safe than she does when he is holding her. And I don’t know about you guys, but I am so happy that she has that now. Annabeth Chase is a warm, sensitive, and emotional character. And when those parts of her shine through, I think it makes her one of the most realistic characters.

For some reason, I feel like people think that Annabeth, and other female characters, have to be cold and insensitive in order to be strong. But I think that couldn’t be further from the truth! Allowing yourself to be vulnerable takes the utmost strength. Love and trust, and having someone by your side, makes people stronger, not weaker. I personally love that Annabeth lets herself be loved and comforted by her partner. Because she can be “the little spoon” and still be completely his equal. Wanting to be held and taken care of does not make someone lesser or weaker. It makes them human. (And it goes the same with men and all genders). It makes Annabeth one of the most relatable and realistic people in the series, and I love that Rick shows that side of her.

Annabeth Chase is a remarkably strong, fierce, legendary female warrior. She also craves to be held by her loving boyfriend. And those are not conflicting statements.

[mssainz]

PART 13 | AFTER FIVE YEARS

Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader

Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.

Warning: None

YN'S INSTAGRAM STORIES

CARLOS' INSTAGRAM STORIES

"Mama, I miss Papa. When can we see him again?" Cael asked you. You two flew back to your home after the small gathering with the other drivers. Your DM is swarming with messages of happiness and hatred from Carlos’ fans. It's been a while since you've been active on your public account, and it makes you want to close it now.

"I don't know, baby, I'm sorry. Papa is probably busy with his race. But, do you want to call him, my love?" You asked.

"Yes, Mama! Yes!" Cael excitedly requested. Although Carlos tries to call or text you regarding your son, Cael just can't help but be attached to his father.

After a few rings, Carlos finally picked up his phone. "Hello, who's this?" the voice of a woman answered his phone.

What the heck?

You immediately ended the call and put down your phone. Pain and betrayal start filling your mind the moment you drop the call. Cold sweats gush out of your skin that makes your world stop for a moment. "Mama, what's wrong?" Cael curiously asked, looking at you with worried eyes.

"Nothing, baby. It's just…. Papa can't be reached right now. Maybe he's busy at the moment. Let's try again another time. Is that fine with you?"

"Okay, Mama. That's alright, maybe Papa is busy with his stuff," Cael replied while pouting. You can feel the longing in his eyes. He was excited to call his father but almost ended up talking to his father's mistress.

What the heck was that, Carlos? You said you wanted to try, but you're still messing around with another woman. God, I almost fell for it.

“Hey, stop killing that chicken that's already dead,” Elle said when she sat next to you at the hospital’s cafeteria. You are just immensely shredding the chicken breast on your plate.

“What's wrong? You're so grumpy today. Red days?” your best friend asks. She has been sensing your frustration even in the ER this morning.

“Grumpy? What are you talking about? I'm not grumpy,” You replied, as you dig into your food and stuff it into your mouth.

“Dude, you keep slamming things since this morning. You make me dizzy from all the roaming and hoarding of patients. You only do that when you're frustrated and want to keep your mind occupied. What's the deal?” Elle said. You paused for a moment and hesitated to talk about it.

“Well, I have this friend, his ex-boyfriend wants to get back to her and she almost believed him. It turns out that he is still messing around with other women,” YN explained.

“You mean, Carlos?”

“Yes, I mean no! This is not about me, okay. It's about my friend, a friend,” YN denied.

“Okay, okay, chill. I have never seen you so frustrated for a friend. So what did Carlitos do? He wants to get back to you?,” Elle said, teasing YN. She knows she's talking about Carlos. YN doesn't have many friends and it's so unlikely for her to be furious about someone else's problem. The least thing she will do is be bothered with someone else's life when she already has too much on her plate.

YN rolled her eyes. “You know what, whatever,” YN finished her food and went back to the ER, leaving Elle laughing her ass off.

You kept yourself busy the entire day, had duty at the hospital, and bonded with your son. But, you were low-key waiting for Carlos to return your call. "Mama, I miss Papa. Do you miss him too?" Cael asked as you tucked him into bed.

Cael, you and your questions. I don't miss him. Why would I? He is just handsome and irresistible but he's still a cheater and a liar. So why would I?

"Uhm, probably not as much as you do," YN said, playing it safe.

"Yeah, is he still busy, Mama?"

"I think so, my love," but you actually don't know if he is really busy with work or with her.

The next morning was your day off. You slept an hour more than your usual wake-up time and then got up to prepare breakfast for yourself and Cael. It's rare for you to do this because you have your mom, who always gets up earlier than anyone else in this house. But, now that she is on vacation with her siblings, you are the one to do it.

You were enjoying your iced coffee when someone knocked on your door, almost banging it down. "Who the heck is banging someone else's door so early?" YN hissed and walked towards the door.

The door revealed your ex-husband panting, almost fainting. "Carlos? What are yo.."

"It was the new PR staff," Carlos blurted out while catching his breath.

"Ha? What are you talking about?"

"We were filming something yesterday, and.. and I.. forgot my phone. That's when you called, and she… happened.. to answer it. So.. I came here to assure you that I'm not.. I'm not cheating on you and Cael," Carlos explained, still panting. You stand frozen in front of him, not knowing what to say.

"Can I enter? I badly need water," He continued. You walked him to the kitchen and handed him a glass of water. "Ugh, thank you," he replied after gulping every single drop from the glass.

"You could have told me over the phone. You don't have to fly over here just to tell me about that. As if I care who the heck you are dating," YN said.

"But, I do care about what you're thinking. And do you think you’ll believe that she was just a staff if I just told you over the phone? I don't think so," Carlos replied.

He's right about that. Point taken.

"Whatever. Why the heck are you panting anyway?" YN said, changing the topic.

"Because the crazy godfather of our child gave me the wrong address. I knocked on someone’s door only to know that your house is still a few miles away. So I had to walk here, almost run,” Carlos explained, exaggerating the distance he had to walk. And you just laughed at him.

“Is this crazy godfather's name, Daniel Ric?,” YN asked, still laughing at him. Carlos gave her a nod. “I bet he was already sleepy when you texted him.”

“Yeah, probably. But, I still hate him, he made me walk so far,” Carlos replied.

“Papa?” Cael walked into the kitchen with his hair messy from sleeping.

“Good morning, bud,” Carlos said and approached his son. “You're here,” Cael said, resting his head on his father's shoulders.

“Yes, baby, Papa’s here. You're not dreaming,” Carlos chuckled while rubbing Cael's back. “You're not busy anymore?” Cael asked.

“I’m still busy, but I just wanted to see you and Mama,” Carlos said, looking at you. It made you choke on your coffee.

Why are you looking at me like that? Bastard, I almost swallowed an ice cube.

You hadn't finished your coffee when your phone rang. It was a call from the hospital.

“Bitch!” Doc Elle from the other line said.

“Whoa, where's the hi and hello,”

“Well, hello, bitch, I know you're on your day off right now. But there's a vehicular accident involving a bus, and five SUVs. They're bringing them all here. And I kinda need a hand here. If you're still frustrated, now's your time to hoard some patients” You could hear the scream for help from your best friend.

“Why does it always happen on my day off?” YN whispered in annoyance.

“Just come, please. I need your help,” Elle requested. You could hear chaos from the other line. It seemed like the patients were beginning to arrive.

“Okay, I'll be there in a minute,” You replied before ending the call.

Wait, mom’s not here. Who's going to take care of Cael?

Your eyes moved towards Carlos. “What?” Carlos said, confused why you were looking at him without saying anything.

“I need to go to the hospital,” You replied.

“Okay?” Carlos replied, waiting for you to continue. “Can you take care of Cael for today? Here's his routine. I listed everything here that you must know. Please?” You gave him Cael's schedule and routine throughout the day. You had written it for your mom whenever you're not around.

“You don’t need to ask for it. Don’t worry, I’ll take over today,” Carlos said.

You immediately put on your scrubs and grabbed the keys to your car. “I'm sorry, baby. There's an accident, and Mama is needed at the hospital. Papa will take care of you today. So behave, okay? I'll be back later. I love you,” You said, before kissing your son goodbye.

“Take good care of him, okay?” You reminded Carlos. “Don't worry, I'll take care of him. Drive safely,” Carlos said, in return.

“Yeah, I will. Thanks,” You said before finally leaving the house. You went to the actual location of the accident to attend to patients who were still there.

Carlos read what was on Cael's schedule. “Breakfast, vitamins, shower…” Carlos was amused by how organized it was. “Your mom really wrote them in detail,” Carlos whispered.

“Bud, let's take a shower,” Carlos said to his son who was now playing with his toys. “No, Papa, I still want to play plus the water is cold. I don't wanna,” Cael replied.

“You can play after you take a shower, my love,” Carlos said, trying to persuade his son.

“No, Papa. No,” Cael resisted, pouting at his father and hiding in the corner of his room. After a few negotiations and a little bit of running around the house, Carlos finally got Cael to shower.

God, I only fed Cael and took him to shower. It is already exhausting. This is more strenuous than working out. - Carlos

Carlos let him choose what to wear and put it on him. “I badly need a shower too,” Carlos whispered. “What did you say, Papa?” Cael said.

“Nothing, bud. Uhm, let's go to the mall. Papa just flew here, so I didn't pack any clothes with me,” Carlos explained.

“That's fun. Let's go to the mall, Papa!” Cael excitedly agreed.

Carlos bought a few pairs of clothes. He had to fly back for the race weekend and other promotion schedules. “Bud, stay with Papa, okay? Don’t let go of my hand. I can’t lose you here, your mom will kill me, understand?” Carlos said, reminding his fully-charged son. Cael nodded at him with a smile on his face.

He did not only buy clothes for himself but also for Cael. “Papa, look! Sunflowers. Shall we buy some for Mama? She loves them,” Cael said, stopping in front of a flower shop.

“Yeah, sunflowers. How do you know she loves sunflowers?” Carlos curiously asked his son. Carlos used to buy them for YN when they're still together. “She buys them for herself. Mama said they brighten her mood whenever she looks at them.” Carlos smiled in return for what his son said. “Okay, let’s buy and arrange them at home, okay?”

Cael and Carlos arranged the sunflowers and placed them in a vase in the dining area and the living room. He then took care of Cael, bathed him, and changed his clothes for bedtime.

Carlos lay beside Cael’s bed. “Papa, I had fun today. Thank you for the clothes and toys you got me. I love them,” Cael said.

“I’m glad you like them, bud,” Carlos said. A loud silence then followed. After a few minutes, Carlos thought that Cael was already asleep but when he looked at him, his eyes were still wide awake. Cael just giggled at the way his father peeked at him. “I can’t believe you still have the energy to laugh at me, Cael.” Carlos said making Cael giggle.

“Stop giggling, little man. Close your eyes,” Carlos said, before closing his eyes too.

“Papa, I don't know who to marry,” Cael blurted out of nowhere.

“Hmm? You don't know who to marry? Why are you thinking about that too early?” Carlos said and leaned closer to his son.

“I don't know, Papa. I just wonder who I'm gonna marry someday.” Cael replied, eliciting a laugh from Carlos.

“Don't worry, bud, when you get older and wiser, you'll know who to marry. You'll meet her maybe not now but in the future. I'm sure you'll find her, the right person for you to marry,” Carlos tried to explain it to him.

“But how? How would I know if I already found her?” Cael replied.

“How? Hmm, your heart will tell you, bud,”

“My heart will tell me? But my heart can't speak,” Carlos laughed at his child's innocence and purity.

“Yeah, but you'll just know it, bud. If she makes you happy, if she makes you feel safe, if she loves you, despite your strengths and weaknesses. If she loves everything about you. If she takes care of you and you take care of her,”

“Like Mama, Papa?” Cael replied that made Carlos taken aback.

“Yeah, like Mama, bud,”

“I want to marry someone like Mama, Papa,”

“Me too, bud. Me too ,”

Little did the boys know, YN had just got back from work and was listening to their conversation the whole time at the other side of the door.

Me too Carlos. Me too.

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

CARLOS INSTAGRAM STORY

YN INSTAGRAM STORY

AN: Sorry for late updates I have lots of things to do. But here's another update, I hope you like it. Let me know your thoughts and id you wanna be added to the taglist. Thank you!

TAGLIST:

@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo

[miley1442111]

shocker- a.hotchner

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summary: you have some news for your husband.

pairing: aaron hotchner x wife! reader

warnings: fluff, pregnancy, mild angst, happy ending :)

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Aaron had a day off. A day off from work, from paperwork, from travel. And he had you all to himself. 

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

He woke up much earlier than you ever would, but instead of getting in his morning thirty-minute run, he stayed in bed with you, allowing himself a few extra minutes of sleep. God, you were gorgeous like this. Unconscious and unbothered, a soft smile on your face as you lay beside him in your shared bed. Most of the time he couldn’t even believe he knew someone like you, let alone married you. 

“You’re getting handsy Mr. Hotchner,” you chuckled, swatting his hand that had in fact, landed on your ass. 

He chuckled back. “I can’t appreciate my wife?”

You finally opened your eyes, only to roll them at him. He laughed and pressed a kiss against your cheek as you yawned, too tired from the long week to get up yet. 

“We should do something today,” he pressed soft kisses to your collarbone as you nodded to what he was saying. “Movie?”

“Nothing new is out,” you reminded him. 

“Park?”

“Jess isn’t a fan of the park anymore,” you yawned. 

“Shopping?”

You stared at him in bewilderment for a moment. “Are you insane?”

“Yeah, I guess that one was a long shot.”

“We could stay in bed all day,” you offered.

“As much as I would love that,” a harsh smack landed on your ass and you yelped. “We do have two children to look after.”

“Send them to Jessica’s,” you groaned. “We haven’t had any time together in months, Aaron. I adore our kids, but I also adore my husband, and I want to see him.”

Aaron’s heart swelled, and he needed no more convincing. “I’ll call her now.”

You smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.”

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

God, this day was more than needed. 

Sending Jack and Jessie off to their cousin's house meant you and Aaron had a whole morning to watch an entire film, without someone interrupting, then you got up and went to the farmer’s market together, and had a great time. 

“I love you,” you smiled, leaning over the centre console of the car as Aaron reversed out of your parking spot. He chuckled, then took your hand. 

“I love you too.”

“Aaron,” you smiled. 

“Y/n,” he responded, smiling cheekily. 

“Are you happy?” 

“More than anything,” he smiled. “I love our life, so much.”

“Do you want more kids?” you asked nervously. Truthfully, this is what today had been about. Four weeks ago, you found out you were pregnant. It was an accident, yes, but hopefully not a mistake. How ould he take it? Jess was planned completely and Jack had been planned too (granted, not with you but, you knew the Aaron Hotchener way). This was totally unplanned. You two were both busy people with busy jobs you loved a lot.

“Maybe in a few years-”

“I’m pregnant.” 

His mouth opened in shock, then close to a straight line. 

“You’re not happy,” you responded for him.

“I’m very happy,” he nodded. “Just… shocked and a little bit confused as to why you told me while I’m driving.”

You chuckled, but the rest of the car ride was silent and your anxiety grew. What if he wasn’t happy? What would happen? Had you ruined the day?

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

You rushed inside the house and away from him, locking yourself in your bedroom under the guise of a nap. You had gotten a full 12 hours of sleep, and now, there you were with a head full of anxious thoughts and awful ideas. 

“Can I come in?” he knocked on the door, and you just mumbled a response. You heard him sigh and unlock the door from the outside, and everything came crashing down. Your eyes watered, and immediately wrapped you up in his arms with a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” you whispered, tears falling down your face. “It’s ok Aaron.”

“I’m happy about this,” he nodded, reassuring you. His hands cupped your cheeks, turning your attention towards him. “I’m just… surprised. Jess is only 2, and Jack is getting older everyday. I was just scared about the thought of having a newborn. I’m not unhappy, I’m just scared.”

“I’m really scared about this,” you admitted. “Our last pregnancy was less than… easy.”

“This time, I’ll be here the whole time,” he promised. 

“Aaron, you’ll be at work and so will I-”

“I’m leaving the BAU. I want to be here more,” he pulled you closer. “I want to be here for you and the kids.”

You stared up at him in shock. “Really?”

“Yes,” he smiled. 

"So you'll stay home with the kids?" You asked.

"I want nothing more," he smiled.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

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

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[foldingfittedsheets]

I’d like to entertain and enliven you now with the saga of my Slut Era.

I’ve always been a serial monogamist and my shortest long term relationships clocked in at three years. So perhaps that’s why when I finally broke it off with my ex I went insane on dating. Part of it was definitely just that between anxiety and loneliness I wanted to fill up my time.

This happened when I was living alone for the first time, no roommates, just me and my little cat Leeloo. I didn’t want to come home to an empty house so instead I set up dates.

Most of these were disastrous. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I had a lot more first dates than second because they’d seen enough, including the one where people aggressively complimented me.

But after a few months I had four people I was seeing simultaneously. I was up front with all of them that things were not exclusive, and they all agreed, so no infidelity took place here, just a lot of hijinks.

Here’s who was on the dating roster:

• An apprentice woodworker that we’ll call Jill. I honestly thought at 26 years old that her being 21 wasn’t a problem age gap and I quickly learned that there was a vast gulf of both maturity and life experience between us. Jill described herself as “heteroflexible” and had just dumped her first boyfriend to flirt it up with me.

• A married woman looking for a friends with benefits. We’ll call her Alice. I insisted on meeting her husband first to be sure I wasn’t part of a cheating mess and he gave me his blessing when I stayed over at her house. Years later when he and Alice had divorced I would go on to sell him and his new fiancée an engagement ring and we both realized at the end how we knew each other and it was wildly awkward. Alice was nice, but a hardcore vegan who insisted I brush my teeth if I so much as ate string cheese before I could kiss her. She was also unhappy in her marriage and was feeling out if I’d want to get serious.

• A bartender dubbed Snakebites, so called because of her signature piercings. She cooked me a steak so raw it was still mooing and some of the best asparagus I’d ever had. In our singular sexy encounter she bit my nipple and I never got over it. Really don't bite someone if you don't know their preference and work up in pressure. We weren’t terribly compatible but neither of us were willing to admit it yet. Truthfully I considered still dating her solely because I desperately wanted her bathroom. It had all black tile, black toilet, black sink, a rain shower in the corner and a jacuzzi tub. I may not have loved her but god I loved that bathroom.

And finally,

• My beloved, who I would go on to marry, who was dealing with a lot of personal stuff at the time. Obviously that meant I liked them the best of all the people I was seeing because we were both disasters at the time.

So that’s the cast of this little misadventure. Now, our story begins with Jill.

Jill was someone who heightened my anxiety. Each of the three times she came to my home she brought and left more stuff. A self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans collection of DVDs. It was like she was trying to move in. She also liked to deride my taste in things, frequently calling me a pleb when I mentioned a band or show I liked.

She was working on a gorgeous little decorative table in her woodworking program. The main wood for the top had a beautiful dapple of knots like jaguar spots, and when she showed me a picture I exclaimed how pretty it was.

“Do you want it?”

“Oh- I mean it’s lovely, I wouldn’t mind having it, but you should sell it and make some money!”

But she was adamant. She’d give me the little side table. At about this time, Alice was starting to get awfully lovey for a FWB. I knew she wasn’t happy with her husband but I also knew we were not a good fit. Fun fact: Alice and her husband were step siblings with a pretty hefty age gap. They got together when he stumbled upon a kink photo shoot she’d done with vegetables. None of their family was happy about the relationship but they weren’t related by blood so it was fine.

So I was fending off more overt romantic advances from Alice, and feeling increasingly like I needed to break things off with Jill. Snakebites wasn’t ever initiating communication and I decided to pull a lot of plugs at once.

I ghosted Snakebites, told Alice that I thought we should cool it, and in a move worthy of a rom-com I asked my beloved if I could pretend we were exclusive to put off Jill. They agreed and I texted Jill to let her know that I was no longer single.

I was not prepared for Jill’s response. She. Was. Devastated. She flew off the handle. She’d just been waiting for the right time to tell me how she felt about me! How dare I do this to her!

What about the table?!

“You should keep the table, it’s gorgeous, you’ll be able to sell it, but I don’t expect a free table.”

Silence met me after that text. I worried and fretted and eventually headed home.

There on my doorstep. The table.

It was a small little end table, reeking of oil and polish, but very beautiful. I brought it inside. The little drawer didn’t even have a knob or guide rails. But it did have a handwritten bill proclaiming that it was costing me $500.

“I can’t afford a $500 table, Jill!” I texted.

“Well you kept saying how nice it was. I spent a lot of time on it.”

“I’m not saying it’s not worth $500” (it wasn’t, it was a tiny side table made by an apprentice) “but I can’t buy a $500 table.”

“Make me an offer.”

I stared at the little table. I did actually like it, but I worried about the repercussions of entering into this deal. Hesitantly I typed back, “$300.” I didn’t think it was worth that much but I didn’t want to insult her too badly.

This suited her for the night. But the next day she informed me she needed a new bed, and that she’d take her $300 in credit toward a new mattress. I spent the whole next day basically wrangling with her over what she wanted and eventually she spiked back up to demanding $500 for the damn table.

“Let me just give it back,” I begged. It was not the first, second, or even third time I’d asked to return the thing but this time she finally relented and gave me her address. Since she lived with her parents still I’d never been over.

I called up my beloved and said, “Hey, I need moral support, can you run an errand with me?”

They agreed which is how we loaded up a self help book, a ramen kit, the entire Teen Titans DVD collection, and the table from hell into my little car together. Jill had said to meet her at one o'clock. I intended to drop everything off at noon and be done with this madness.

But while my beloved and I were on the doorstep leaving everything I heard, “Jill? You’re home early,” through the door. Her mom opened it to peer at us in confusion.

“I was just bringing Jill’s stuff back!” I chirped in alarm.

With little tact and a lot of speed we left her with Jill’s collection of things and then I sped out of there like my tail was on fire. I handed my phone to my beloved as I zoomed away instructing them to block Jill’s number. I was free. The tabletross around my neck had been returned.

It was about a month after that when my beloved and I officially began dating exclusively. I had wrapped up all my messy dating threads and it was a relief to be in a relationship again. They went on a trip to Mexico shortly after we made it official.

So I knew they were out of town. But next morning I walked out to my car and beheld a lipstick kiss pressed to the drivers side window.

I was petrified. I had just dumped three girls at once and had an extremely messy back and forth with one of them. Did I have a stalker?!

Of the girls, Alice seemed like likeliest candidate, being of a stronger lipstick variety girl than Jill or Snakebites. We had ended things a bit stiffly, but still cordial. She just laughed when I asked if she knew anything about it. “Nope,” she said, “but good luck.”

I’d rather have walked over broken glass then text Jill, and I’d firmly ghosted Snakebites so I was scared to reopen communication to ask if she was stalking me. I had to drop it. But it haunted me, that lipstick kiss.

For months I was jumpy, wondering which of my spurned lovers had done it. And why. Was it a threat? A goodbye? I lay awake thinking about it, worrying about how everyone I’d dated knew where I lived, which car was mine.

Finally, nothing else happened and I moved on. The kiss would remain a mystery and I had to be content with that.

It was a year later when I finally started filling my mom in on my dating escapades that I finally got closure. She was hooting and laughing as I went over the table debacle. Then I paused and added, “And then this kiss showed up on my car.”

“Did you like it?”

“What? No! I’m pretty sure one of them was stalking me! Who else would leave a kiss on my car?”

My mom started bellowing with laughter. “I did!” She wheezed.

Apparently. My mother had been driving by my place. And decided that a cute little gesture would be to leave me a kiss. And then decided to never mention it to me even though she’s never done anything like that previously.

“It scared the crap out of me!” I yelled while she collapsed with helpless laughter. “I thought I had a stalker! How could I possibly have known that was you?!”

“How could I have known you’d just broken up with three girls at once?” She wheezed in rejoinder and like. Fair play.

So that’s how my mom convinced me I had a stalker and I got out of buying a $500 table.

[clandestinedmeetings]

May I request a hurt/comfort fic with smut? Where reader is insecure of herself due to some hateful comments or rude 'friends' and Leon swoops in and treats her like the princess she is!

AHHHH this was funnnnnnnnnnn. Had to throw in a lil friends to lovers, too, because I am... such a sucker for it.

Lmk if you want me to change anything, and need more hurt! I'm happy to edit to make it closer to what you envisioned :) <3

Constructive criticism is /always/ appreciated, too! If there's something you think could be better, please don't hesitate to let me know! I'm always looking for way to improve my writing~

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Leon Kennedy x f!reader

Synopsis: Reader returns home one evening feeling distraught over recent events. Leon lends a listening ear (and then some).

Tags: 18+ (smut), MDNI, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, roommate!Leon, AFAB reader, cunnilingus, p in v, alcohol consumption

WC: 5,044

A/N: Take a shot (of water, if you're under the legal drinking age) every time I use celestial imagery in my writing. I need new similes/metaphors, goddammit.

Read on Ao3!

•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•

Leon’s never been good with words. 

He’d actually go so far as to say that he’s bad with them—abysmal, even. The most he can usually muster in tense situations is a terse, “Okay,” and an awkward shuffle of his feet. His jokes suck, too, which leaves him with only the talent to dig himself into deeper holes, blush furiously, and pray that people find him charming enough to overlook his utter lack of social skills. 

This tactic had only really worked in his favor once. 

This tactic had only really worked on you. 

He’d met you four years ago at Claire’s 21st birthday party. She’d held it at a bar not too far from home, invited all of her friends, and conveniently omitted that he’d be the only guy in attendance. When he pulled her aside, when he’d hissed and complained and anger had gripped at his chest, she’d pouted. And that was enough to assuage his frustration. 

“They’re great girls, Leon, one of them ought to catch your eye.” 

Leon had rolled his eyes. “I don’t need you to play matchmaker, Claire.” 

“Because you’ve had so many successful dates recently,” she’d said sardonically with her hand on her hip. 

No arguing there; his love life had been about as bleak as his platonic social life as of late. The girls he met were either off-put by his awkward demeanor or willing to overlook it, but only in it for sex. The latter wasn’t too bad, he figured, but not what he was looking for, either. In fact, Leon wasn’t sure he even wanted a relationship. He just wanted someone with whom he could laugh. It’d been a while since he’d laughed.

“Claire,” he sighed, “I’m not—“

“—looking for that, yeah. Whatever, Leon. Talk to them. Maybe you’ll find a roommate, then. Solve another one of your many problems.” 

Not a terrible point, but not a good one either. Claire didn’t want to hear that, though. Especially on her birthday.

His roommate moved out a few weeks ago. The first of the month was coming soon. He could afford to pay for one month in full but he’d need a new roommate soon. He’d sulked over to the bar in resignation, ordered a bourbon (neat) and sipped on it while watching from afar. He checked his watch — 30 more minutes, and he could go home. He hadn’t gotten any hits on his ad  yet. Maybe his it needed updating. Maybe he should rewrite it. 

“We can’t both leave at the same time, you know.” 

Leon turned to his left to see you perched on a barstool, espresso martini in hand. You looked positively bored, your face drained of all color, though he couldn’t deny that the fluorescent neon lights overhead suited you. Cute, he thought, pretty.Very pretty. 

Maybe the ad could wait. 

“What makes you think I’m trying to leave?” 

You’d given him a pointed look before taking a sip of your drink. He’d chuckled, “Okay, who do you suggest leave first then?”

“Me, obviously.” 

He’d taken the seat next to yours, one hand in his jacket pocket. “That desperate to get out?” 

“Kinda,” you muttered with a smile. “And I’ve been here longer than you have so it’d be unfair if you got to leave first.” 

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” you’d echoed. 

End of conversation, clearly, but you hadn’t moved. You’d stayed put. You’d angled your legs toward him; he’d mirrored the action. You refrained from ordering a second drink, he did as well. And he was surprised at how comfortable it was, sitting with you like this. Quiet, brushing knees every so often. 

“You have any jokes, stranger?” you’d asked. 

His lips had curled into a smile. “Aside from the fact that Claire only invited me to hook her up with one of her single friends and didn’t tell me until I showed up? Yeah, I got plenty.” 

“Oh, so you’re Leon,” you’d laughed. “She told me about you.” 

Leon flushed a horrific shade of crimson. “Christ,” he muttered, “That’s… humiliating.” 

“It isn’t,” you placated with a mirthful smile, “I promise. She only had nice things to say.” 

“A pleasure to have in class, I’m sure,” Leon quips. He unstuck his feet from the bar floor with a frown. He nearly gagged at the sound it made. 

You’d giggled at that. “Something like that.” 

“What’s your verdict? Was she truthful or was she Claire about it?” he’d asked. 

You’d mulled over this question with a down-turned smile. He liked the way you smiled. He liked the way your eyes gleamed underneath the blue light bathing the bar. “Very truthful, unfortunately,” you admitted without making eye contact. 

Leon stifled a smile of his own and chose to focus on keeping his feet from staying on one place for too long lest they get glued to the filthy floor once more. He’d looked up at you, and had been surprised to find you already eyeing him. 

“Why unfortunately?” 

“Because I’m not looking for anything serious. Or at all, really.” 

That had been unfortunate. You’d divulged that you’d recently gotten out of a tumultuous long-term relationship, and that you were in search for a new place to live. The apartment you two had shared was under his name so you were crashing at Claire’s until something became available. 

“I’m looking for a roommate,” he’d blurted out before he could even consider the implications. You’d furrowed your brows, taken aback by his brazenness, but your surprise quickly melted into acceptance. 

You swallowed a sip of your drink and asked, “Are you a clean person?” 

“Obsessively so.” 

“And you’re not the ‘I can fix her’ type?” 

Leon had laughed at that. “Not much of a handyman, really.” 

“Serial killer? Sexual deviant?”

“No, and I guess that depends on what you consider deviant.” 

The rightmost corner of your mouth curled into a lopsided smile. You drained the remnants of your drink, placed the martini glass on the granite bar top, and asked, “When can I move in?”

When you both reflect on this meeting now, you laugh at the eagerness with which you’d accepted his proposal. You chastise yourself for jumping the gun, for taking his answers at face value because yeah, choosing to move in with a total stranger was foolish. But in the four years since, you’d never come to regret your decision to move in with Leon.

He was terribly respectful of your space, even early on when you’d spend most of your nights crying and lamenting on your past relationship. He’d made popcorn and sat on the couch sharing a bottle of wine with you when you needed support. When you told him you’d expected a proposal on the night your boyfriend had broken up with you, he’d balked. 

Leon opened up to you quickly, too. It wasn’t long before he told you all about his parents’ deaths and unstable upbringing. You told him about your turbulent relationship with your family. You’d commiserated over feelings of worthlessness, abandonment, and isolation. And when the ice cream ran low, you’d both hop in your car and argue in whispered shouts over which flavor to get at the grocery store.

Leon was, for all intents and purposes, your best friend. And you were his. 

In you, he’d found a confidant. In you, he’d found someone who listened and cared and never failed to make him feel seen. In you, he’d found someone who could make him laugh. God, it felt so fucking good to laugh this consistently. It’s therefore safe to say that he’s smitten — that he’s been smitten since he first met you at Claire’s birthday—but he’d never act on it, not unless he was certain you felt same, even if it kills him.

And it does kill him. 

It kills him to see you date other guys. It kills him to see you go through breakups. Most of all, it kills him to see your light dim whenever you’re made to doubt yourself. To Leon, you’re radiant. You’re brilliant and bright, a sparkling star in an otherwise blackened night. You gleam when you smile, you twinkle when you laugh. You hung the moon, as far as he’s concerned. He doesn’t understand how you could think any differently. 

But you do. Not frequently, but life gets to you sometimes. 

Tonight is one of those times.

It’s Friday. Leon is laying down with his foot propped on the back of your shared velvet couch, nursing a glass of whiskey and reading the last few chapters of his book when he hears you barge through the door. It closes with a slam. He sits up abruptly, nearly spilling the amber liquid all over his white t-shirt, as you pad down the hall. 

“Hey,” you huff, plopping down beside him and snatching the glass out of his hand. You down its contents without pretense, gagging as it burns your throat. Leon’s brows knit together in concern as he takes the glass from your hands. He gently lowers it onto the glass coffee table. You hand him a coaster without looking at him. He stifles a chuckle, and slides it under the glass. Your nose is rubbed raw, he realizes. Your eyes are bloodshot. You’d been crying for a while. 

“What the fuck is wrong with me,” you whisper.

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he mumbles, rubbing soothing circles on your back. 

“No, there has to be something wrong with me, Leon,” you insist, pressing the heels of your palm into your eyes. Static dances behind your lids. You wish it would swallow you whole, wish yourself to be consumed by numbness rather than whatever this fucking feeling is. “This is the fourth fucking time,” you sob, “the fourth fucking time this month I’ve all but been told I’m worthless.” 

“What’re you talking about?”

You take a shuddering sigh before slouching into the couch cushions, palms still pressed to your lids. “My coworkers spoke over every fucking idea I had at our sprint this morning. Then my mom brought up my ex again, and said he would’ve proposed if I’d been more agreeable — can you believe that?” 

Your ex-boyfriend. The one you’d expected to propose. Still a sore spot, but not for the reasons one would expect — you aren’t in love with him anymore, you don’t spare him a second thought most months. You hate his guts; Leon hates him, too. The fact that your mother was still bringing him up years after the fact is cruel, though expected at this point. Doesn’t make it any less hurtful, though, Leon knows that. 

“I can, unfortunately,” he commiserates, slumping down beside you. “Your mom’s a bitch.”

“God, she really fucking is,” you groan loudly. “And to make matters worse,” you continue, flipping onto your side to better face him, “remember that guy I went out with two nights ago?” 

Leon crinkles his nose, “V-Neck?” 

“Yeah, he told me I was a ‘waste of time’ and ‘boring’ because I didn’t like Fight Club.”

“Let me guess, Tyler Durden—“

“—is his favorite character,” you finish with an exasperated cry. Leon can’t help but laugh at that. The guy was a tool; Leon clocked it as soon as he showed up in jeans and a v-neck to pick you up for your date. 

You start to cry again. “God, Leon, I’m so sick of this shit. I’m so sick of feeling like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I’m fundamentally broken. Like everyone would like me better if I weren’t me. Because when I was with my ex, I was… nothing. I was nothing. I laughed when I didn’t think he was funny. I pretended to like football, I pretended to like the gold fucking jewelry he gave me even though I never wear anything but platinum! It felt like I was giving away parts of myself every time I lied just to appease him.” 

You pause to catch your breath.. “And I get spoken over all the time at work. I’m exhausted. I feel like it’s wrong for me to take up space and I feel like all of my opinions are wrong and God, I just wish I weren’t me anymore.” You’re practically shouting now, rivulets of tears streaming down your face and soaking your plush sweater. 

“God,” you whisper. You cover your eyes with your forearms. Leon doesn’t quite know what to say, so he remains quiet. The room is filled with the sound of your sobs. 

He inhales through his nose then mutters, “I think you’re perfect.” 

“What?” you croak. 

“Nothing,” he sighs. He didn’t realize he’d said that aloud. 

You wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater. “No,” you say, “What did you say?” 

Leon sucks on his teeth before answering. He wrings his hands before repeating, “I think you’re perfect.” 

“No you don’t,” you scoff.

“I do, actually. And I think you deserve way more than these asshole guys you choose to date can give you. And I think your mom’s a bitch who needs to forget about your ex because that guy was a fucking asshole who took you for granted, too. And your coworkers hardly have a braincell to share between them, so I wouldn’t take what they say to heart in the slightest.” 

You’re stunned by his outburst, by the reddening of his cheeks and clenched jaw. “Leon—“ 

“I’m not finished,” he huffs, sitting up and turning to face you. “I’m… Look, I’m sorry, but I’m so sick of hearing about people treating you like shit. I’m so sick of you coming home in tears and I’m so sick of listening to your insecurities.” 

“Well, I’m sorry I’m such a goddamn burden to you, Leon—“

“No—shit—that’s not what I meant,” he clarifies, taking your hands in his. “I don’t mean that I hate listening to you or talking you through it. I mean that…” 

“You mean that what?” 

“I mean that I just…. wish you could see yourself the way I see you,” he whispers.

You swallow thickly before asking, “How do you see me, Leon?” 

Leon looks up to the ceiling now, a mirthless smile on his face. He thought about how it would feel to confess his feelings to you, but never about how he would actually do it. He’d resolved to take them to his grave, actually. You meant too much to him; he couldn’t lose you. But Leon has said so much already, and there’s really no going back at this point, is there? 

“Like you’re the most incredible person I’ve ever fucking met, sweetheart, and I don’t just mean that in a platonic sense.” 

A breath catches in your throat. Your stomach drops, your lungs feel like they’re collapsing in your chest. Leon licks his lips before continuing, “You’re… so fucking brilliant, you know that? You’re intelligent and kind and thoughtful and god, you’re so fucking pretty it makes it hard for me to breathe sometimes.” 

Tears well in your eyes again. A sob threatens to rack your chest but you suppress it only to hear him continue. 

“And to make matters worse, you’re a terrific fucking listener. You care and love more deeply than anyone. You make everyone feel seen. You just… “ he stops only to consider his next few words. With an exhale and a watery smile, he finishes: “You deserve someone who worships the ground you walk on, and doesn’t let a day go by without reminding you how loved you are.” 

He runs his fingers through his hair, breathless and nauseous and uncertain if the pain in his chest is a burgeoning heart attack or deep-seated panic bubbling to the surface. Leon wonders if you’d judge him for throwing up right now. It would certainly ruin his chances with you permanently, not that he had one to begin with. 

But then he feels your hand cradle his cheek. And he feels you turn his face toward yours. And he feels your lips — soft, plush, tasting vaguely of the cherry chapstick you’d let him borrow whenever he needed it — on his. 

Leon freezes, unsure how to respond. Does he kiss you back? Are you drunk and that’s why you’re kissing him? You’re clearly vulnerable — maybe it’s that. 

You press your forehead to his after pulling away. “S-sorry,” you stammer, “I just— I’m— that was—“ 

“N-no, it’s okay—“

“I’m so—“ you interrupt yourself by kissing him again. Leon reciprocates this time, though he does so with some hesitation. His hand cups the back of your head; you take it as a sign to lean further into him, to take handfuls of his shirt and pull you to him. When you break away, the sky parts and you’re awash with a sense of clarity. 

“Leon,” you sigh, “Leon, do you really mean all of that?” 

“Every fucking word,” he breathes. 

“You’re not just saying that because you’ve been drinking whiskey and you think I’m sad and vulnerable and want to take advantage of me?” 

He barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not and that glass that you finished was actually my first.” 

“And by saying all of this, are you saying you’re willing to be that person?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Okay,” you whisper.

“Okay,” he chuckles, holding the hand tangled in his t-shirt. You release your grip with a chuckle of your own before looking away bashfully. He gently strokes his thumb over the back of your hand. 

You look down at your feet; he looks down at your feet, too. “So,” you say after a while, “you think you can fuck better than they can, too?” 

Leon tosses his head back and laughs heartily. You can’t help but laugh, too, loving the timbre of his joy. He stands, and offers you a hand. You take it with a giggle, standing to your full height to meet him. With a wolfish grin, Leon throws you over his shoulder. You shriek with delight at the suddenness of the gesture, but don’t fight as he carries you to your bedroom and drops you onto your plush queen-sized bed. 

He’s on you within seconds, dazzling white smile plastered on his golden skin as he kisses you. You smile as you kiss him, too. There’s something tender about the way Leon kisses you, like you’ll break under his touch. It’s different, you think, brand new. Gentle. Sweet. Caring. Even as his hands snake up your sweater to settle along your waist. 

You gasp as his calloused fingers rub loose circles along your ribcage. He trails kisses along your jaw and down the column of you throat, pausing only to suck at your pulse point and collarbone. You grab fistfuls of his shirt and move to tug it over his head. His belt is next. Then your sweater.  And before long, you’re pressed flushed against him and savoring the warmth of his skin. 

“God, you really are so fucking beautiful,” he whispers in your ears, voice low and gravelly with lust. You arch into him again, begging that he resume his kisses along your neck. He obliges —of course he obliges— and when he reaches your breasts, he looks up at you through thick lashes. 

It takes you a second to realize that he’s waiting for your consent to continue. Tears well in your eyes once more, both at the revelation that no one had ever been considerate enough to pause and ask for something as simple as this and that he did so without prompting. You give him an enthusiastic nod. He smiles and presses a genial kiss on your breastbone in thanks before taking a pert nipple into his mouth. 

You mewl at the sensation of his tongue lapping loving circles around your nipples, at the feel of his hand cupping your other breast and rolling its peak between his index and thumbs. His name slips from your mouth; he moans in response. 

“Shit, baby, say my name again,” he rasps. 

“Leon,” you keen as he sucks at your breast. He groans again, shutting his eyes as he savors the cadence with which you mutter his name. 

He’s desperate to hear it again, to hear it screamed in ecstasy, to hear it whispered lowly in his ear. Anything. He just needs you. 

He trails kisses down your torso. You move sinuously beneath him, eagerly anticipating the featherlight kisses he places on your hip bones. On your inner thighs. On your dripping cunt. You spread your legs for him; an invitation of the sweetest kind. You knot your fingers in his hair as he begins his ministrations, his tongue lapping at your pussy from entrance to apex. He lingers along your clit, drawing lazy concentric circles around it until you’re brimming with desire. 

“Please, Leon,” you beg, “more.” 

His chuckle is low and dark. It reverberates through your core, heating and cooling the coil tightening painfully within your lower abdomen. 

“I’ve been waiting a long time for this, sweetheart. Let me take my time.” 

You arch into him, eyes wide with disbelief. “A l-long time?” 

Leon gives you an affirmative hum. You whimper as his fingertips dig into your thighs, as he drags you closer to his mouth with calloused hands. “A long fucking time,” he emphasizes before burying his face into your cunt. 

You moan at the feel of his lips, his nose, his tongue licking and sucking and savoring the ichor between your legs. He alternates between the flat and tip of his tongue. He nips at your clit. He gently prods your core with his tongue before slipping inside and coaxing forth a shattering, breathtaking orgasm. 

He holds you tightly in place, devouring you so wholly through and past your climax. It’s overwhelming, asphyxiating, beautiful and damned and in your fractured consciousness, you wonder why you didn’t succumb to these desires sooner. 

It’d be dishonest to deny your initial and longstanding attraction to Leon Kennedy. You’d withheld your curiosity as a matter of self-preservation — you can’t lose another friend to sex, you can’t lose another living arrangement. But that didn’t stop you from fantasizing about it at night. And in the morning. And whenever he’d walk around your shared apartment shirtless or in his gray sweatpants or when he held you when you cried. 

Stupid, you think now, stupid, stupid, stupid. 

Your own hands don’t even come close to comparing to the feel of him. At this point, you’re certain there’s no going back, either. You need more. You need more now or you’ll go insane. 

“Leon, please.” 

He rises to his knees, pink tongue swiping across his plush lips to consume as much of you as possible. His hands, so large and strong, rub the tops of your thighs. “Please what?” 

“Fuck me. Now.” 

He clenches his jaw in frustration. He so desperately wants to keep you like this, wants to take his time, wants to bring you to orgasm with his tongue and fingers at least thrice more before he allows himself to fuck you properly, but he can’t. He knows he can’t, not when you look like this: skin feverish, pupils blown wide, fingers knotted tightly in bedsheets as a means to keep yourself tethered. 

“Condom?”

“Top drawer,” you choke out, gesturing to the nightstand to your left. 

He scrambles to extract one from the back most corner of the drawer, and tears into the aluminum packaging with his teeth. You sit up, hands greedily tugging at the waistband of his boxer briefs, and take his hardened cock in your hands. 

A delicious, gravelly moan slips through his lips as you stroke him from base to tip. Your ministrations are slow, painstaking, and Leon’s finding it harder and harder to keep his resolve. His hand reaches for your throat. It startles you at first, but your eyes roll back as he tightens his grip ever so slightly. 

“How do you want it?” He asks

Your response comes out airy, breathless, needy: “I don’t fucking care.” 

“On your back then.” 

And you oblige, but not before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of you. He smells of cloves and ginger, all warmth and spice, and it’s so intoxicating you wrap your legs around his torso to pull him closer, closer, closer.

He litters your neck with wet kisses, leaving light bruises in his wake. You’d mind if you didn’t have all weekend to help them heal. You’d mind if this weren’t the first time in a while that you’ve felt yourself grow so slick with need that you’re surely dampening the plush covers adorning your bed. You’d mind if they weren’t coming from him. 

From his eager mouth.

From his generous tongue. 

From his fevered kisses. 

You angle your neck to grant him further access; he accepts it with genuine appreciation. 

You whine as his kisses slow, as he takes his time peppering the column of your neck, your décolletage, your breasts. And you’re so preoccupied with the way he sets your skin ablaze that the feel of his cock penetrating your core takes you by sweet surprise. 

He smiles into his next series of kisses, grows harder as you arch into him and dig your fingernails into his back. He allows you to adjust to his size before moving.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” he rasps in your ear. It sends ripples of want through your system. “So fucking tight, sweetheart.” 

“Leon,” you whine again, gyrating in desperation for release. 

Stars flit across your vision as he adopts a rhythmic pace. He’s slow at first, soft as you acclimate, but as soon as your teeth sink into the flushed skin of his shoulder and he recognizes the hunger in your eyes, he smirks. 

“I won’t hold back, you know,” he teases.

“I don’t want you to.” 

“Better fucking hold on then.” 

You open your mouth, snarky retort on the tip of your tongue, but a lascivious moan takes its places as Leon’s hips slam into yours. His pace is bruising, rapid, and deep. The tip of his cock kisses your cervix, triggering white spots to bleed into your vision. You close your eyes, you toss your head back into the pillow, you claw at him for purchase. When you exalt his name, it comes out stuttered, choked, garbled behind a stream of curses and erotic sighs. 

He presses his forehead to yours. Your lips manage to find his even through your euphoric fog. It’s difficult to maintain with the way he fucks you, so he cradles your cheek with one hand to keep you steady. 

“You’re so fucking perfect, baby,” he mumbles into your lips, “so fucking beautiful.” 

You bite his lip; he slips his tongue into your mouth. You taste his whiskey again, bitter and smokey, and moan as the tip of his cock pressurizes your g-spot. You’re close to coming undone, close to bathing in rapture, and you can’t help but feel disappointed for succumbing so soon —you wish you could stay like this forever. 

Thought that disappointment quickly dissipates as your orgasm snaps. You’re engulfed in waves of pleasure so sinful, so profoundly exhilarating. You cum with his name on your lips, and in ecstasy, it evolves into something deeper. An exaltation. A sacred prayer. An incantation summoning forth years of denied attraction. A testament to his patience. 

You come undone before him, vulnerable and raw, and he kisses you again because he’s so grateful that you’ve allowed him to see you like this. Keeping his eyes open as he approaches his own climax is challenging, but ultimately worthwhile because he swears he’s never seen anything—anyone—so beautifully and perfectly crafted for him in his life. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, I’m—“

“Cum for me, Leon. Cum inside me.” 

And now it’s your name that’s ripped from his throat, your name interlaced with prayers and enveloped in the sanctity of his climax. You wrap your legs more tightly around his torso, bringing him closer still. His head drops, forehead meeting yours, as he comes to. 

It takes you both a minute or so to catch your breaths. You pant into each other, remain tangled in your sheets as you bask in the aftermath. 

You expect shame to blossom in your chest. You expect regret, too, but neither come. Instead, you’re filled with a sense of belonging that is only further reinforced when you look into his irises. You dive headfirst into crystalline pools, so warm and inviting, and recognize that it should always feel like this. 

“You okay?” He asks between breaths. 

“Extraordinary,” you pant, “you?” 

“Never been better.”

He presses his forehead to yours, a delightful chuckle racking his chest. It’s hard not to laugh, too, hard not to pull him into a tighter hug. You’d hugged a million times before—he’s always been quite liberal with his affections—and a small piece of you always wondered what it would be like to do so in this capacity. It is, of course, better than anything you could have possibly imagined. 

You grab his face, and pull him into a soft, loving kiss. It’s deep this time, sweet and passionate and above all else, familiar. He scoops you into his lap after he pulls out. He kisses your head, your cheeks, your lips. He holds you, rubs soothing circles along your thighs, whispers sweet nothings in your ear. 

“So,” Leon asks after a while, “verdict? Better than those other guys?” 

“So much fucking better, unfortunately.” 

Leon looks down at your quizzically, “Why unfortunately?”

“Because I actually am looking for something serious now.” 

“So am I,” he blurts out. 

You lean back to get a better look at his face then purse your lips and ask, “Are you a clean person?” 

“Obsessively so,” he quotes, beaming at the memory of the night he first met you.

“And you’re not the ‘I can fix her’ type?” 

Leon laughs again, “Still not much of a handyman, really.” 

“Are you a serial killer,” you ask between kisses, “or sexual deviant?”

“No and only if you’re into that.” 

You wrap a gentle hand around the nape of his neck, and bring his lips down to yours. After a dizzying, passionate kiss, you press your forehead to his and ask, “Where do I sign up?”

And Leon realizes that he may not be so bad with words after all.

[kyracooneyx23]

Favourite Pest - Kyra Cooney Cross

Kyra Cooney-Cross x matildas!reader

part 2 of this

summary: You find out what's caused your best friend to act so strange.

warnings - nothing except its terrible

It was so nice to finally be back in camp with the Matildas again. Despite how much you tried to hide it, your time away from the sport had been the toughest months of your life. You were so grateful for all the physios and trainers at Chelsea that had made your return in time for the world cup possible. 'I don't know whether I should be happy or not that your back.' Caitlin said from opposite you on the table.

'that's so rude Cait,' you say placing a hand to your heart to feign hurt 'You should be glad your favourite person is back so your not stuck with these two losers.' You tease causing Mackenzie and Alanna to gasp.

'I'm just saying, now that you're back Kyra's going to be back to her pesty habits again.' She groans shooting a look at the young midfielder who was staring at the back of your head for the last twenty minutes since you had sat down to have dinner. Caitlin smirks slightly seeing her teammate pining over her best friend who was completely oblivious to what was going on.

Katrina had warned the other Matildas about what was going on with Kyra, but it wasn't a surprise to any of them as they'd been sick of the two of you being a simp for each other but not noticing because you both shared the same singular braincell. They were all just praying for one of you to man up and confess so you could finally get together.

'Kyra's only ever a pest when you're around. Since you've been gone she's actually been quite pleasant.' You turn around in your chair to look at Kyra, shocked that your best friend could ever be anything but wild around your tillies teammates who were your favourite people to annoy together. When you catch her gaze you send her a playful smile but she quickly looks down at her plate making you frown.

'Yeah, you bring out the wild child in Kyra.' Alanna pipes in, throwing a piece of carrot at you, the vegetable only slightly missing your eye you whack the tall girl before dipping your hand in the leftover pasta sauce on your plate and smearing it all over her face. 'Oh, your going to regret that.' She responds pouring a glass of freezing water over your head. You screech hopping off your seat and trying to shake the water off of you, catching everyone in the rooms attention.

'Fuck you Lani.' You snap at her, causing Mini to tell you to watch your language. You roll your eyes walking towards the bathrooms to dry yourself off a little bit.

Whilst your off in the toilets Tony comes in to where the players are eating to tell everyone the room arrangements as he reads of the names Kyra feels her heart sink as she finds out she'll be rooming with you. Normally she would be excited knowing the two of you would end up staying way past your bedtime watching movies and planning pranks but now she felt sick. Just looking at you laughing with Caitlin and Alanna made her stomach do flips, she was choking on her words and you were halfway across the room, she couldn't bare to imagine all the ways she could mess up if she had to sleep in a room with you.

Mini must've noticed Kyra's discomfort and places a discreet hand on her knee. 'If its really that bad I can ask if me and you can room together instead, I'm sure Charli wouldn't mind rooming with y/n.' The older girl whispers in Kyra's ear.

'What if she finds out though?' Kyra asks dully fiddling with the fork in her hand. She didn't want you knowing that she had swapped rooms just to be away from you.

'It's ok, I'll make sure she doesn't' Katrina assures Kyra wrapping an arm around the blonde.

'thanks Mini.' she mumbles leaning into the warm arms of her motherlike figure.

You walked back into your room noticing half your team gone. You look around for Kyra but she is nowhere to be seen. You thought it was weird for the whole time you were apart all you could talk about was how you couldn't wait to be reunited but now you were here it felt like she was ignoring you. 'y/n/n!' Charli's voice rings through the room as she walks over you pulling both of your suitcases. 'I'm sorry, but you're stuck with me for now.' You laugh, the girls infectious mood making you feel brighter.

You walk alongside the defender making small conversation with each other until you reach your hotel room. You begin to unpack your suitcases, giving up after a few seconds. Instead deciding to get into bed and watch a movie which you hardly got halfway through until the two of you passed out, the jetlag properly kicking in.

The next morning everyone was up early for training. You made your way into the breakfast room very slowly still not fully awake, you keep your eyes peeled for Kyra but she isn't anywhere to be seen. You're about to sit down at the table with Macca, Lani and Cait but before you can place your stuff down an arm is chucked around your shoulders leading you towards a different table.

'It's time we get you, they've already got their fair share of you last night.' Ellie Carpenter, who also only recently came back from her ACL injury, tells you sitting you down next to her at a table with Sam, Hayley, Mary and Courtney. You greet everyone and join in with their conversation but your only half engaged noticing Kyra walk into the room with Mini completely avoiding you as she sits down at the table furthest from yours.

'Is something up with Kyra?' You ask the five girls who pause their conversation.

'She has seemed a little bit off recently hasn't she?' Hayley states everyone on your table looking at Kyra who isn't touching her food instead looking into the distance her usual smile absent from her face.

'I assumed the two of you would be joint by the hip now your back,' Mary adds 'has something happened?' You shrug not knowing why your supposed best friend was acting this way.

'Maybe she's just jetlagged.' Sam states looking at you with concern. She was one of the people who looked out for you the most, being your Chelsea teammate she felt obliged to make sure you were ok, always doing anything you needed. You don't say anything else eating your breakfast before Tony calls everyone outside for training.

Your walking outside with Macca after getting changed into your training gear. 'Y/N, could we please talk for a second?' Tony asks you once your on the pitch you check his expression to see if your in trouble not knowing why you would be, you hadn't pulled any pranks this camp, afterall the person who always helped you execute your plans was avoiding you.

'Yeah sure.' You follow him to the benches on the side of the pitch.

'Is everything ok with you and Kyra?'

'I'm not sure, why?'

He hesitates for a second before responding to your question. 'You were meant to room with her but she requested to swap with Charli, and usually you two are the best of friends, if somethings happened I don't want to it affect the game on Friday.' The words shock you, you were already confused about why Kyra was avoiding you and had no clue why she would ever request not to room with you. You had hardly spoken a word to her, you were her best friend surely she would of been excited to get to spend time with you now you were back. Tears begin to form in your eyes and you rub them away, angry at the way she was treating you when you didn't even know what you'd done.

'I'll talk to her about it, thanks for letting me know.' You tell the Swedish man walking away trying not to let your anger show. You focus on training hardly talking to anyone except Sam who you do all the partner drills with. It gets to the time when you do a mini scrimmage and you are on opposite teams than Kyra. You play for a while not having many opportunities to create chances until Kyra receives the ball and you're barely two meters away, she is debating who to pass to when you decide to go and slide tackle her. You take her legs out causing her to fall onto the floor backwards whilst you run off with the ball before passing it to Sam who slots it past Teagan.

You walk to stand next to her as the ball is kicked back into play but she moves away when you get near her, you frown but put you attention back on the scrimmage.

You continue playing a while longer before Tony calls everyone back, giving a short debrief on tactics and all that before sending everyone off to enjoy the rest of their days as it was only a half day today. You grab a drink of water squirting some on Alanna who wraps you up in a headlock before carrying you inside and chucking you onto a couch in the games room where everyone went for a bit of free time. You lay on the couch before you notice Kyra walking in with Charli, you get up and walk over to the pair.

'Kyra, I think we should talk.' You tell her, Kyra gulps she'd never seen you so serious before and it was scaring her. When she doesn't respond you link arms with her pulling her away with you up to your room. You sit on your bed patting Charli's bed motioning for Kyra to sit there, cautiously she sits waiting for you to break the awkward silence. 'No need to look so scared, i just wanna talk.' You say calmly even though you were beyond pissed at the girl.

'How's your knee?' Kyra asks anxiously watching as your clench your jaw in frustration.

'I'm not here to talk about my knee Kyra, I'm hear to talk about the way you've been acting.' You snap at her getting straight to the point.

'What about the way I'm acting?' She laughs lightly and you can see sweat beads forming around her forehead.

'Don't act dumb, I've been back for over 24 hours and you've spoken a single sentence to me. I've tried to get your attention but all you do is avoid me, and I'm left wondering what the fuck I've done to make you act this weird. I'm not the only one who's noticed literally everyone I've talked to has asked me if somethings going on with us. It's not fair being treated this way when you won't even tell me why.' Your voice breaks and you feel your eyes begin to water 'I was so fucking excited to be back here not only because I'm playing the sport I love but because I got to be back with one of my most favourite people in the world, so how do you think it's making me feel when she is ignoring me and requesting for us not to room together?' You wipe your eyes not wanting to look like a baby in front of Kyra. Her mouth is slightly opened and her face is filled with hurt.

'I'm so sorry y/n/n.' Is all she manages to say after a long awkward silence.

'Really?' You ask slightly disgusted at her childish behavior 'Is that all you're going to say, I think I at least deserve an explanation.'

'I want to tell you but I'm scared it will mess things up even more.' She whispers looking down at her feet and playing with the rings on her fingers, one of them being yours.

'Kyra, I've seen you do the most stupid stuff and we've gotten into fights like this before and shit much worse but we always figure things out, I think we've got too strong of a friendship for it to be ruined by a silly argument.' You state.

'Ok here goes nothing.' She whispers under her breath not loud enough for you too hear. 'This is going to sound really dumb but when you were gone I started getting these weird feelings and I was really confused but I just blamed them on me missing you but after a while they didn't go away. I kept getting butterflies in my stomach whenever you would call and you were all I could ever think about, I wanted to spend every second of my free time with you. Then when you walked in I went into like shock or something, I was so terrified of messing up I didn't know what to do with myself so then I thought I'd stay away from you and the feelings would go away but I still don't know why I'm feeling this way and I'm scared because your the best friend I've ever had and I just want to say I really really like you y/n. Please don't be mad.' She speaks so fast it takes you a while to comprehend what she's just said. When you don't reply immediately Kyra instantly regrets confessing, you probably think she's weird now, why would anyone ever fall in love with their best friend. She considers getting up and just running away, maybe she'd move to Hawaii or some place like that and change her name so people would forget a mess like her ever existed. She's about to get up and leave when you speak.

'Why would I be mad, I like you too Kyra.' You say and Kyra's mood lifts but only for a second as you complete your sentence, 'I mean why wouldn't I, your my best friend.' Kyra's cheeks flush bright red and she buries her face in her hands not sure what to do with herself.

'No I don't mean as in friend, I mean I like like you.' Kyra says slowly trying to help you process the information 'as in more than friends.' Your jaw drops at her words, you didn't realise she liked you like that.

There had been times before your injury when you had begun to feel differently around Kyra, but you'd never told anyone this because you'd rather get to have her as a friend than not have her at all. You understood now why she had avoided you, you probably would've done the same if you hadn't told Sam about it and she told you to accept the feelings but not close off Kyra.

You had tried to ignore the way Kyra made you sweat with nerves and the constant need you felt to impress her, assuming that she didn't feel the same way. But here she was saying that she did and you didn't know what to do about it.

Your brain was telling you not to do anything irrational but the rest of you wasn't listening. You got moved nearer to Kyra, placing a soft kiss on the girls lips. For a moment you were worried when she just froze but then she began kissing you back.

The two of you melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around your neck as you placed your hands on her hips. It was soft and delicate, but it still managed to make your heartrate go wild. You'd only ever dreamed of it never imagining it to be real one day.

You pulled away when air became an issue watching as a large grin spread onto Kyra's face as the two of you sat in a comfortable silence.

'Do you forgive me now?' She asked and you laughed lightly.

'I will if you give me one more kiss.' You tease seeing her blush lightly. The aussie places her lips on yours again and you both fall back onto the bed. When your separated again she places a soft kiss on your nose.

'Do you want to head out and see the others?' Kyra asks you, causing you to shake your head.

'Can we just stay here for a while?' You ask 'I've only just got my best friend back, I think time just the two of us is well overdue.' A smile breaks out on Kyra's face and you match it on yours. You shuffle over slightly on the bed making room for Kyra next to you. She joins you the two of you lying so you can face the tv.

You turn the tv on and flick it onto a random channel, having a feeling that you and Kyra won't really be paying much attention. For a while you lay in silence, not saying anything. You're just glad that you've got your best friend back, even though it wasn't in the way you imagined and Kyra is relieved that she no longer has to act like a stranger around you, a massive weight lifted off her chest that she doesn't have to hide her feelings from you anymore.

'I'm sorry.' She whispers to you breaking the silence.

'Shut up stupid.' You shake your head not hearing it, placing a light kiss on her cheek. She gives you one in return before peppering kisses all over your face you laugh as she wraps her arms around you, lying on top of you and keeping you in position so you can't move. 'Fuck of Kyra.' You say but your words are muffled as she places a long kiss on your lips.

'I see what Caitlin meant by you being a pest.' you tell her laughing as she frowns at you.

'But you love me.' She grins and you shake your head slightly.

'Yep, you'll always be my favourite pest.'

sorry this is shit

[girllookingoutwindow]

In the beginning we can see he's worried. He asked her to marry him and he announced the engagement but it was very fast. He doesn't know how she really feels. The joke is there to calm her down, but specially to calm himself. He's afraid. And she's too.

It could be a different reason, but actually is the same: how the other really feels. And if they worthy of their love.

Then, when both are together, in the first opportunity he has tries to know if she is still in the same page. He thinks she feels bad because she doesn't want to marry him. Her answer calms him down a little and makes him smile, but he's not sure. He doesn't believe her yet.

That's why he ask again. His insecurities are very present. He can't believe that she feels for him the same. He doesn't trust in that.

So, he feels she's hiding something, and he said before he was giving her time but he can't. He does all the situation about his fears. About what he fears more: she doesn't love him back.

She isn't going to say what she needs and wants to say because she is afraid. She doesn't trust he's going to understand and lover her anyway.

So, she gives him the only truth that she can give him, the only truth she really knows. Something that is not what she needs to say, but the most honest she can be here: she confess her love for him.

But it's the truth he needs to hear. His first reaction is disbelief. He's processing, he was expecting the opposite answer. He's not sure.

She continues. And then, he wants to believe her, so he smiles. Even if he feels ashamed for not seeing it and seeing her before. Now, he sees her, and he doesn't want to lose that feeling. He wants to be in love. He's in love.

We can see all his sensitive here. They are tears in his eyes. His chest goes tight of happiness. He needs to express it. Do something to maker her happy like he's. That is why he needs to get closer to her.

Dancing is their love language. Their love is like a dance. They're lovers here. But they are friends too. They will dance together the rest of their lifes.

He looks at her eyes. He brings her hand closer to his heart. His heart belongs to her. His heartbeat is for her and connect with hers. Both are dancing in the same beat. Here they aren't two, just one.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

eventually

words: 700

warnings: established relationship, college student!reader, long distance relationship, cheating, not a happy ending, wheezie is a queen as per usual, mentions/implications of hooking up but the fic is pretty sfw

“it'll be… it'll be really hard and i understand if you want to break up.” just the words coming out of your mouth breaks your heart.

“is that what you want?”

“what?” you shake your head quickly, moving to sit even closer and taking rafes hands in yours, squeezing them tightly. “i love you. i don't want us to ever break up, but im going to college three hours away.”

“we will just have to go long distance.” rafe raises your joined hands and kisses the back of your hand to your fingers. “im not giving up on the only good thing in my life.”

“oh, rafe.” you pout, launching yourself forward into a tight embrace.

--six months later--

you smile at the email approving you to take your exam early. it's the last one you need and considering you already have a 4.0 in the glass, you don't see it dropping just because you get less time to study.

you quickly close outlook and open up your text messages. as much as you want to tell rafe that you'll be coming home two weeks early, you also really want to surprise him.

hey wheezie girl!! I need your help…

--

“where is he?” you whisper as wheezie let's you into the house.

“in his room.” wheezie also keeps her voice low. “he might be asleep though so i don't know if you want to wait.”

“no.” you shake your head quickly. you just got home and the first thing you did was drive to tanneyhill, you're not sure if you can wait even a minute longer. “i got it from here, thanks girl.” you give wheezie a big hug. “i missed you too, ya know.”

wheezie hugs you back before letting you tiptoe up the stairs, keeping your steps as light as to not wake rafe.

you take a deep breath when you see his door, excitement filling in you knowing he's just on the other side.

you grip the brass handle and turn it slowly, attempting to keep the door from creaking as you step into the dark room.

your eyes take a second to adjust to the darkness, the morning light blocked out by the heavy curtains. you recognize a figure in bed and take a few steps closer, but with every movement, your heart drops further.

the sob rips from your chest before you even realize you're crying, waking rafe instantly.

“baby?” he sits up quickly, his voice frantic. “what are you doing here?”

“baby?!” you squeal. “you don't get to call me baby when there's a girl in your fucking bed!”

the clearly naked girl, gripping the blanket to her chest is now awake and staring at the both of you in confusion, probably some touron who had no clue what she was getting involved with.

“p-please.” rafe stutters, standing quickly. “it doesn't mean anything, i don't even remember her name i just needed to-”

you hold your hand up. “i don't want to hear it. i can't believe you… this is over. we are over.”

you walk quickly out of the room and stumble down the stairs, feeling like the house is suffocating you.

you don't even realize that you bump directly into ward, practically crashing into him and forcing him back into rose.

“y/n, what's wrong?” ward asks just as rose asks you when you got home, the whole family knowing when to expect you.

“what's wrong is your son is a cheater.” you give rafe a glare as he stands at the top of his stairs in only his underwear.

“rafe-” ward growls out. he knows how good you are for his son, he's seen the shift in his behavior since you left.

“baby, i still love you, she means nothing to me! it was just casual-”

you leave the house as his pleas continue, not wanting to hear another word of his bullshit arguments, knowing two years has now gone down the drain.

“im sorry.” you look up to see wheezie standing by your car. “i didn't know for sure but… but i guessed. i know you needed to see it with your own eyes. he went to a party last night and-”

“oh, wheeze.” you quickly give her a hug. “it's okay. ill be okay.”

“you will?”

you don't know the answer to that question, not for certain as you look back at the house, rafe stood in the doorway but not following you as ward lectures him.

“not any time soon.” you admit honestly. “but i will be. eventually.”

sfw taglist: @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie @ethanthequeefqueen @ladyinbl00d @drewsephrry

[masonmtxo]

Feels like Summer

Words: 3k

Summary: what started out as a holiday fic turned into girlie getting broody

Notes: please leave feedback, it really means the world and is such a motivator 🩷

•••

You'd never felt more relaxed in your life, the sun beating down on your skin as you laid on the lounger beside the pool, the heat making you sleepy, despite the chaos taking place only a few feet away from you.

A stark contrast from your pure state of bliss, Mason could only describe the fun being had in the pool as absolute bedlam. There were excitable screams from children in all directions, a niece (though he wasn't sure which one) was clinging to his back as she squealed, before her grip loosened and a little pink swimming costume clad body dove onto the unicorn float beside him. Poppy's little face spun to meet him, a huge grin on her face as he playfully grabbed hold of the float she was now sat upon, dragging it through the water behind him as his heart soared at her gleeful screams.

Don't get him wrong, he loved playing football, but the extended period of time he got to spend with his family under the sun during his summer break was his definition of perfection. Nothing could beat the feeling of spending his days being the fun uncle, acting like a big kid with his nieces and nephew, competing with his brother to be their favourite. He was in his element, splashing around the pool and playing games until they were all exhausted, heading inside for a snack and a nap. And in Mason's case, a cuddle and some loving with you. Sometimes you'd get involved in the chaos, his nieces adored you and would beg and beg until you'd jump in with them, sometimes telling Mason it was "girls time" and he wasn't allowed to join in. But for the most part you stayed in the dry, letting Mason and Lewis act as kids entertainers and tire themselves out trying to compete with each other.

You watched from your place beside the pool, eyes covered by sunglasses, exchanging words with Debbie every now and then as she sat on the sun lounger beside you.

You're not sure why you chose to blurt it out so abruptly, but you couldn't help yourself, heart soaring as you watched him interacting with his niece, "he's going to be the best dad."

Debbie took a sharp intake of breath, whipping her head round to look at you and peering over the top of her sunglasses, "are you...?"

Her words drifted off as you quickly stopped her,

"oh no, no, no," you hurried out, not missing the disappointment that washed over her face, "I just can't help but get broody when I see him with kids."

You and Debbie had always been close, she had treated you like her own from the minute you had met and over the years you had formed a close bond. There was something about the way her kind eyes bored into you that always had you opening up to her, something that her son had inherited too.

"He's in his element when he's with them, isn't he?" She smiled softly, her heart clenching as she watched you watching him, overcome with gratitude that her baby had found someone who loved him as much as you did. "He's always been good with kids, even when he was young all the littlens seemed to be drawn to him."

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink before turning to face her, breaking your eyes away from Mason as he began tossing Summer up in the air, "He keeps dropping hints about having a baby. I caught him looking at baby United kits on his phone the other day so I know he's ready."

"So what's stopping you?"

"I dunno, I guess with the move up North and having to re-jig my whole life, I felt quite unsettled for a while and there was no way a baby in the equation would have been practical," you shrugged, unable to avert your gaze from him, not wanting to a miss a second of the sweet display.

Debbie hummed in agreement, sensing you still had more to say.

Sighing, you carried on, "part of me is selfishly happy he didn't play much this season, as bad as it sounds," you were embarrassed to admit it, feeling guilty about the way you felt, but it was the truth, "It meant I had him around a bit more when I was feeling down. Don't get me wrong I'd move anywhere with him if he needed me to, but I don't think I fully comprehended how big of a change it would be for me. I've only just started making friends that aren't other partners of the players, wnd even with them it took me an age before I didnt feel like the new girl."

"Oh sweetheart," she reached across the beds to take hold of your hand, squeezing it in hers, "you know you could have always called, I would have been there in a heartbeat to come and keep you company."

"Mase did keep saying in the beginning that you would be happy to come up and stay for a bit, but I just didn't want to be an inconvenience you know" you paused, taking comfort from her warm hand in yours as you finally opened up about a years worth of turmoil, "he was the one who was getting hammered publically, he was the one who had to start off again at a whole new club. I just wanted him to worry about himself for once, not me."

"He always worries about you, he called me a lot in the first few months as he had a feeling you weren't settled but you were refusing to admit it," Debbie's voice was soft, motherly in a way that made you feel comfortable enough to divulge all your inner thoughts and fears.

"Bless him," you smiled as you turned back to look at him, now teaching the girls how to do star floats on their backs, "I remember one time l'd had a really bad day, a group of the girls who l'd been getting friendly with had met up without me and I was so sensitive, cried about it when I saw them all together on instagram," you laughed, "and he was so sweet, kept asking if I wanted to move back home and he would see if he could commute from London because he could tell I was unhappy."

Debbie laughed, shaking her head with a smile as it was something he had also mentioned to her in one of his panics. She had shut him down instantly, telling him to not be so dramatic and it was just a big adjustment.

"I think he was worried I would break up with him," you spoke softly, admitting something that you hadn't actually vocalised before.

Remembering the way he was on egg shells with you for weeks, doing everything he could to try and make you feel like Manchester was home.

Debbie didn't respond, just gave your hand another squeeze in acknowledgment. She knew it was something he had agonised over, sometimes breaking down into tears as he poured his heart out to his mum over the phone, worried he was making you unhappy by forcing you to leave your life behind for him. Debbie had reassured him repeatedly it wouldn't happen, and she had been right. It was just a bump in the road, and with his recurring injuries and subsequent time off the tearful calls had become less frequent, the extra time you had been allowed to spend together helping you settle into a new normal.

By the time he had gone back to training full time, you'd found your rhythm, making friends through Anouska who had kindly taken you under her wing and introduced you to all the best coffee places and parks to walk Ace in, the puppy Mason had bought to make you feel safer and less lonely when he was away. It had taken time, but you finally saw Manchester as home, loving the city more than you thought you would.

You settled into a comfortable silence for a while before Debbie spoke up again, still holding your hand in hers, "You know when you two were house hunting after moving up there he asked Lewis to find options that were listed as family homes," she smirked, eyebrows raised suggestively as you turned to look at her.

"I knew you'd want to go back to the grandkids topic," you giggled, shaking your head at her lack of subtlety, another trait Mason had taken from her.

"Can you blame me? I'll never say no to more babies in the family," her smile was infectious, making you return her grin.

"We did discuss a bit when we were house hunting. I didn't want to buy something so big to be honest, purely because the amount of cleaning it would need," you groaned, being reminded that you worry had come to fruition, "but he made a good point and said it's going to be the house we have kids in, so may as well buy one that's ready for that step."

"And are you ready for that step?"

"Yeah," you nodded, feeling sure of yourself, "he's been ready for the past few years, it's been me that's always had my foot on the break. But for the last few months the feeling just hasn't gone away, I keep going over to Anouska's just to get my baby fix with Lumie," you laughed, "and every time Stacey hands Honey over for a cuddle I struggle to give her back."

"You better hurry up and tell Mason then," she teased.

"Tell me what?" You both turned to see the man of the hour pulling himself up out of the pool having caught onto the last few words of your conversation.

Releasing her grip on your hand, Debbie shuffled up from her seat, "I'll leave you two to talk."

Watching her go, you would help but roll your eyes affectionately at the little spring in her step as she rushed over to the other side of the pool where Tony was sitting with a beer, clearly excited to fill him in on the prospect that they may soon be getting another grandchild.

Mason was watching you, taking the opportunity to drink in your bikini clad body while you were focused elsewhere, admiring the curves of your body and the glow from the sun on your skin.

"Go on then," he broke the silence, "what have you got to tell me?" His head cocked in question.

"Come here?" You asked, opening your arms to invite him to lay with you, figuring there was no time like the present and if you didn't tell him he would spend the day pestering you until you inevitability broke down to pressure.

"I've just got out of the pool," he warned, glancing down to his wet torso when he noticed you were transfixed on his body, a slight pink dusting over your already flushed cheeks.

"Don't care, want a cuddle," you murmured, smiling as he carefully plopped on top of you, head resting on your chest as his left hand trailed up and down the side of your body. His wet body cooled you instantly from the layer of heat the sun had given you, goosebumps covering your skin from the combined sensations of the cold and his gentle touch.

You sat in silence for a while, gathering your thoughts while enjoying the feeling of having each other close, the last time you had an opportunity to spend time with him had been in bed that morning. You had awoken to day light flooding into the room having forgotten to close them the night before in your desperation to get each other into bed. Your neediness hadn't passed, knowing you had to make the most of your time together before spending the day surrounded by his family. He had fucked into you slowly from behind, whispering how much he loved you into your ear until you were both spent, followed by another quick fumble in the shower before getting ready to meet the others for breakfast.

The kids had stolen him after that, so you made sure to enjoy the moments you had with him during the day, even if they were few and far between sometimes.

“So, you gonna tell me what mum was talking about?” He broke the silence after a while, fingers tracing over your stomach and you couldn't help but smile at the irony.

"I want a baby.”

His head shot up from your chest instantly, wild eyes searching your expression, "Are you serious!?"

"Yeah,” you nodded slowly, “I've been thinking about it for a while, every time I see you with kids I feel like I’m going to explode. But that's only if you're ready too.”

He laughed, the grin on his face probably the biggest you'd ever seen, happiness radiating through his brown eyes, “You know I've always been ready to have kids with you.”

“I know,” you face was apologetic, reaching out to cup his cheek and trace a gentle path across his flushed cheek, “and i'm sorry for making you wait so long, I just felt like bringing a baby into the world when I was feeling a bit all over the place wasn't the best idea.”

“No I get that, it wasn't the right time last year,” he agreed solomley, though a smile was threatening to burst through, “I know we spoke about kids and how we wanted them soon when we moved into the house but I was always happy to wait until you were ready too.”

“I felt ready all along in terms of our relationship, like if it happened accidentally last year I never would've had doubts or felt rushed. I just didn't feel ready to start actively trying you know? Felt like we had a lot going on and the pressure would've got to me I think."

"We don't have to put any pressure on it, even if it takes time," he reassured, "the baby making is the fun bit anyway." His cheeky grin made you giggle, loving the way he always knew exactly what to say to relax you and make you laugh. "And if you have second thoughts and want to wait for a bit before we remove contraception that's fine. We can do everything at your pace.”

You shook your head softly, he was so unbelievably caring you felt your stomach clench with love, "no I don't need anymore time to think," eyes flitting away from him to admire a bird circling the sky above you,

"It's something i've been thinking about for months now. I thought I’d wait and see, to see if the feeling went away once summer started and you were home all the time and I wasn't so lonely. But if anything it has got worse, I've never been so broody in my life.”

"Yeah?" His voice was soft, his eyes a little bit watery as he struggled to contain the love he felt for you in that moment.

"Yeah," you confirmed, mirroring his expression.

He rested his head back on your chest, trying to steady his breathing as his heart hammered in his chest. You were finally saying everything he had been waiting to hear for the past year, excitement pulsing through his entire body at the prospect of getting to become a parent with you.

"I want two, maybe 3 kids I think,” you murmured.

"Oh at least 3 for sure, the more you let me have the better," he grinned teasingly, his chin resting on the valley between your chest so he could look up at you adoringly.

"You're gonna be the best daddy in the world," you hummed, stroking the back of his head through his wet locks.

"And you’ll be the best mum,” he whispered, pressing a series of kisses to your chest, trailing his lips up until he reached your neck, “wanna go practice making a baby?"

"Mason, I just spoke to your mum about wanting a child, I'm not disappearing off with you, she will know exactly what we're doing," you groaned, gently grasping his face and pushing him out from the crook of your neck in an attempt to stop him getting carried away.

Mason barked out a laugh, "Babe, mum knows if she wants another grandchild we're gonna have to be having lots of sex, probably even more than usual," he wiggled his eyebrows at you suggestively, trying to charm you into letting him have his way with you but you were holding firm.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean hiding away to have a shag while on a family holiday, when all your nieces and nephews are here as well."

"You let me fuck you last night," he grumbled, "and this morning."

"Yes, while everyone was in bed Mason," you chastised.

"Baby they aren't stupid, they know we don't go in our room at night and play scrabble til we fall asleep," his voice was teasing, letting you know he was only playing around with you.

"That's beside the point, Mase. If we disappear now you may as well stand up and make an announcement across the villa we're going for a quick fuck."

"I mean I wouldn't be opposed to doing that," he shrugged, playfully biting at the palm of your hand that was still cupped around his face, "at least we wouldn't be disturbed."

"You're an idiot," you couldn't help but laugh at him, flicking him on the shoulder in jest.

"But you love me and you wanna make loads of babies with me," his smirk was full of teasing, dipping his head to bite gently down on the swell of your breast knowing it would wind you up further.

"Mason, do you remember you said I could decide otherwise at any point?" You asked pointedly.

He nodded, his smile not dropping.

"Don't test me," you countered.

With another sharp laugh, he pulled you in for a kiss, cupping your face in his large hand, his lips sweet and soft against yours before pulling away, "fine, I'll wait until tonight then."

🩷✨☁️

Thank you for reading! Please leave some feedback if you can, it means a lot and motivates me to keep posting!

[dixons-sunshine]

A/n: Based on this post by @louifaith. An actual fic for this is in the works, but here's this in the meantime!

Imagine calling Daryl Dixon your husband for the first time.

It was the apocalypse, meaning that having an official wedding was damn near impossible. The best one could get to a real wedding was wearing your least ruined clothes and having someone like Gabriel officiate it. However, Daryl didn't want a big affair, so nothing ever happened—you were simply known as Daryl's partner, and that was alright by you. Whatever made him comfortable, you were happy with.

However, when Carol started calling Ezekiel her husband, even though they never made it “official” official (due to Carol not wanting to make it a big deal), it started to change your mind about things. You and Daryl were together for a long time. How would he react to you calling him your husband? Would he freak out? Would he correct you? Would he be mad? You didn't know, and you thought you'd find out.

It was a random night when you let it slip. It was one of those rare occasions when there wasn't any runs to go on, there wasn't anybody to save, and you could just enjoy a quiet night with the man you loved. You had whipped up something quick and may or may not have swiped a bottle of wine from the pantry, and you and Daryl had just been having a playful argument over a glass of the delicious liquid when you called him your husband.

“Ya ain't gon' win this one, sweetheart,” he had told you, smiling over the glass of wine he was taking a sip from. “Jus agree with me. It'll be easier than arguin'.”

You had playfully rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Yeah, yeah. Happy husband, happy life, right?”

Daryl had stopped, looked at you, scoffed and took another sip from his wine as an attempt to hide his smile. “Pretty sure tha' ain't how the sayin' goes.”

He didn't freak out. He didn't overreact. He didn't correct you. You took that as an amazing sign. You smiled at him and shrugged. “No? I'm pretty sure I'm right.”

You continued calling him your husband after that, and Daryl didn't correct you. That's how people started referring to Daryl as your husband, and you his wife. And if Daryl found you a ring a couple of weeks after that and nonchalantly slipped it onto your finger one night while cuddling, it definitely wasn't supposed to be a big thing.

“Thought we may as well make it official,” Daryl replied nonchalantly with a shrug.

And if you found Daryl a ring as well, he wouldn't be against wearing it. Just don't make a big deal out of it, or the archer would be a blushing mess.

[coco-loco-nut]

How Did It End?

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

summary: charles can’t shake the reputation of not being able to hold a relationship

masterlist ttpd masterlist

—————————

Sure, Charles dated around, but he was in his 20s, and it wasn’t like those relationships were super short. He thought the reputation assigned to him was unfair. So when he met you, he thought things would be different. How did things die so quickly?

He was used to the scrutiny at that point, so he did his best to protect you, like you were a flower that he needed to take care of. Maybe that’s what let a disease sink in.

“Charlie, we can’t hide. I don’t care what people say, I want everyone to know how much I adore my boyfriend,” you begged.

“Mon amour, they are ruthless. I don’t want you getting attacked because you are with me,” Charles frets.

“Charles, I can’t keep hiding,” you say, moving away from his touch as he reaches for you.

That became more and more frequent. Charles wasn’t wrong, the attention you got from the media was overbearing at times, but you were happy to be with him.

Charles could tell you were subconsciously pulling away. You shared love language is touch, and it was less and less frequent. It started to feel foreign rather than comforting.

That’s not to say that it was all bad. You and Charles truly believed that you were it for each other and this was just a low spot to work through. You were blind to what was to come.

The downfall really happened during a post-race party. You and Charles had been separated from each other, and people decided that that was the correct time to plant seeds of doubt in both your minds.

“God, Pierre. I don’t know what to do. She deserves better than me, I think things are ending,” Charles says on the phone with his childhood best friend, running a hand through his hair. Little did he know that you were having the same conversation with some of your friends, asking for advice.

“I think it’s time to call it off,” you and Charles get the same reply. As much as neither of you wanted to, the seeds had been planted, and that comment was like a good rain that helps it grow.

Not even a week later, you are moving your things out of Charles’ apartment and back to your apartment in London. You thought you had some peace and quiet at the start of your separation, but then the gossip pages got pictures of you and Charles. You were out shopping, feeling absolutely lost without him, you didn’t even realize that

Charles could hear the hungry voices around him, vultures waiting for the next bit of gossip. Former friends sending him pictures of you shopping and looking miserable, people whispering around him when walking around Monaco. It was all too much, and it was always the same question.

“How did it end?” like his life was a circus, and he was reaching his breaking point. The more he is asked that question, the more he can’t hold onto his PR filter.

“I can’t pretend like I understand how it ended. She was my everything, we had dreams together. It feels like her ghost and I are sitting in a tree, like that nursery rhyme. D-y-i-n-g,” Charles rants to Max, one of the few people to not offer the fake sympathy.

Charles was miserable attending Silverstone. Knowing you were so close but so far, it was torture. He just wanted to hold you in his arms, show you off to the paddock.

“Mate, he looks awful. What happened, where’s Y/n?” Lando asks Carlos, observing the Monégasque driver.

“Didn’t you hear? They called it all off,” Carlos says as Lando’s head whips over to look at Carlos in shock.

“How did it end?” Lando asks. Charles wants to rage at everyone and everything. It’s never asking how he is doing, only how it ended.

“I don’t know,” Carlos shrugs.

Charles knows how it goes, if he tells someone what happened, they will promise to keep it to themselves but end up telling all of their friends. It’s a spectacle, every time a failed relationship of his makes light.

You show up to the race in disguise, having been dragged out of your apartment by your friends.

“He looks miserable,” you say, watching Charles on the screens. It’s not too noticeable to anyone who doesn’t know him well.

“The same as you. Maybe you should reach out,” one of your friends suggests as you stand at the front of the barriers for the Ferrari fan zone.

“I, I shouldn’t. We broke up for a reason,” you tell her, not noticing Charles’ gaze on you.

“Maybe so, but it seems like you two need to talk,” she says and you look up at Charles who holds your gaze for a second.

“Maybe,” you can’t help the slight blush that appears on your cheeks. After the event, you see a text from him in your messages. You never blocked Charles’ number, you couldn’t bring yourself to.

You meet Charles at a park nearby, and it’s starting to feel like a bad idea.

“I’m sorry for all the media attention that came with the breakup,” Charles starts and you feel anger flare up.

“That’s what you are sorry for?”

“No! Well, yes, but I’m also sorry that I never publicly showed you off. All I could think about the past few weeks is how much I wanted you by my side. I love you, you are different than anyone I’ve dated before,” Charles corrects himself.

“Charles, don’t say that. Of course, I love you too, but I know how this goes. You will try and change, and things will be okay for a little, but then they will revert to how they were,” you sit on the bench nearby.

“No, they won’t,” he rebuts, but you don’t believe it.

“I hate seeing you miserable, but I can’t be in a relationship that makes me miserable in the long run,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“Y/n,” he trails off, unsure of what to say.

“I’m sorry, but I didn’t opt in to be your odd man out, Charlie. I was going down with the ship. You said you loved me but where were the clues? You never showed me off, I was stuck at home while you were out,” you go on a slight tangent.

“I never meant to cage you, I just wanted to keep you safe. I realize how wrong that was, now. I put the weight of the relationship on you, I’m so sorry,” Charles begins to realize you won’t budge, that you need to protect yourself.

“I’m just getting color back into my face, and you will too. You and I will find someone who meets our needs, and this will be just a small blip in your life,” you smile ruefully, removing your hand from his.

“I’m not the one,” Charles exhales, and you shake your head. You know what’s bothering him and why he’s fighting for you now.

“Ignore them. Those who truly know you don’t believe the reputation the media has spun of you. I’ll be cheering for you, Charlie. Maybe we can be friends one day,” you stand up, taking in the sight of him one last time. Charles watches as you walk away.

Neither of you saw the camera trained on you, but Charles took your advice. When the photo was published with the caption “how did it end?”, he ignored it. And when he finally met the one, he realized you were right once again.