#i am so ready for summer please i’m so tired

[sal-fishing]

new jersey accent sal my beloved

[rangerbarbz]

Please

Author’s Note: Man, I am a busy bee. I apologize for how little I’ve been writing. I never catch a break, but I am so thankful for y’all. I hope the summer is treating you well!!!

“Please”

Summary: Ford lets out his frustrations on reader after a continuously failing experiment

You laid flat on you and Ford’s shared bed, stomach against the quilt that covered the mattress. Ford was downstairs finishing up an experiment while you were reading a chapter in your new book. The rest of the Pines family were on a daycation out of town leaving you and Ford by yourselves. It was nice to have this private time to spend with him. 

You flipped to the next page and shifted the weight of your head onto your other hand. It was no telling when Ford would emerge from the basement to join you. He had been down there for an hour now. At least you thought he had; you were pretty engrossed in this novel so who knows? You had changed into a tank top and shorts to make sure when he did get done with whatever he was working on, you’d be ready to fall asleep in his arms. Or so you thought. 

You heard Ford’s boots stomping down the hallway, your head perking up at the sound. You closed the book and placed it on the bed before standing up to approach the doorway. 

“Ford?” you called. Just as soon as you reached the door frame, he was there. His silver hair was tousled and his eyes looked more weary than usual. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against his chest. He was wearing stained jeans and a taut, black t-shirt and smelled of his musky deodorant with a hint of moss. 

“Honey, are you okay?” you asked gently, letting him bury his face in your neck. His body was hunched over to make sure he was holding as much of you as possible. You rubbed your hands up and down his back soothingly as he started kissing your jawline.

Ford’s eyes met yours; they didn’t look tired anymore. They were fiery.

“I’m fine. It…It was just a hard day,” he explained quietly. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” You placed your hand on his cheek, letting him lean into the palm of your hand. 

“No, sweetheart. Not now.” He began kissing your wrist. “I just want you, please.” His words were mumbled against your skin. You felt your face get hot as he continued kissing down your arm, his eyes blissfully closed. 

You cupped his face to make him meet your gaze. “Take me then,” you whispered. Ford groaned in appreciation, his strong hands covering the sides of your face. He was kissing you with such a force that was uncharacteristic for him. His tongue flicked your lower lip, begging for a taste of yours. You let him deepen the kiss by opening your mouth and wrapping your arms around his neck. He was frantic trying to touch every inch of you. 

Ford suddenly broke the kiss. “I’m sorry. I forgot I had these damn boots on. Let me take them off before we get too far.” You nodded, unable to form actual words. He then bent down to start unlacing his shoes. However, his mouth was focused on something else. He began planting kisses from your knee, lips inching up your thigh. You let out a soft gasp; your fingers carding through his hair. His stubble was teasing the satin skin that was close to where you wanted him most. 

He suddenly stood up to place his lips on yours again. They never left even as he flung his boots and socks off making you giggle. You felt him smile against you. One arm then supported your back while the other snaked around your waist. You were gently laid on the bed as Ford kissed you passionately. 

He then lifted himself up, centimeters away from your face to look at you. His eyes were locked onto yours. After what felt like hours under his gaze, he leaned down to your ear. “I love kissing you,” he said in a low voice. He dragged your earlobe through his teeth, and your body shivered at the contact. His lips continued their journey down your neck, small moans escaping your mouth. Your legs had wrapped themselves around his torso.

He grunted against your chest, pulling down your tank top to expose your nipples to the cold air. His eyes darted hungrily across your breasts before tracing your areolas with his hot tongue. A sharp contrast to the temperature of the room. You cried out, once again holding his head in your hands. His right hand crept upwards to your other breast as he sucked your nipple into his mouth. 

“Ford, please,” you breathed, grinding against him to gain some sort of friction against your throbbing core. He was incredibly hard and straining against the zipper of his blue jeans. He groaned and bit your nipple to tease you back. You yelped a bit, face growing red from the sound you made. Ford didn’t seem to notice. Or, if he did, he didn’t mind. His hands grazed your waist down to your hips, thumbs rubbing circles into your soft flesh. 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about this.” Ford pulled down your silky shorts to expose your dripping cunt to him. He tossed the article of clothing to the floor, his attention never leaving you. His hands drifted up the sides of your thighs, pressing them around his head. He blew cold air against your sensitive clit; his eyes locked onto yours to see your reaction. You yelped and threw your head back which made Ford chuckle. 

“You’re so sexy like this,” he grumbled against your inner thigh. He peppered kisses up your leg. The tip of his tongue teased your opening slowly.

You gasped. “F-Fuck.” 

Ford’s lips wrapped around your clit and swirled his tongue gently. He lifted your right leg, putting it over his shoulder to give him better access. His once calculated licking began to turn sloppy as he dove into you. He slipped his big hands underneath you to cup your ass and pull your cunt closer to his mouth. He moaned into you while your hips grinded against his face. 

Just when you thought you were going to burst, his tongue slipped out of you. He gave your swollen labia a kiss. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I want to feel you around my fingers,” Ford admitted. He adored fingering you. You were almost positive it had something to do with the fact he had been made fun of his entire life for his hands. The hands he was once so insecure about were now able to evoke such pleasure from you. It made him feel powerful. 

His thumb grazed your throbbing clit as he slid one finger into you. His breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of your warm, wet entrance. You cried out how he filled you up so easily. Your nails dug into his shoulders; his finger began to pump in and out of you. 

Ford’s cheeks were tinged pink. He became so flustered seeing you write underneath him. “Oh, God,” he whimpered. “You feel so good…So beautiful.” He began to pump faster to hear more of your sweet moans. 

“Ford,” you breathed out. “Please, I’m so close.” He moved his other hand to your upper back, carefully lifting you up. 

“I know, baby. I know. I got you. Just let go, honey. Let me feel you,” Ford cooed. Your body did exactly what he said. You felt shivers run over your entire body; your cunt pulsating around his fingers. He hugged you against him, still fingering you but slowly now. Your head fell into the crook of his neck. You were breathing heavily, riding out your orgasm. 

“There you go. Atta girl.” He kissed your temple. “Do you think you got one more in you, honey?” You leaned back and looked at him, a grin on your face and a glazed over look in your eyes. 

“You betcha, Dr. Pines.” He smiled devilishly at you before standing up to swiftly remove his shirt. His pants and boxers were soon to go. You bit your lip as you watched him undress. He had such broad shoulders, toned muscles, and a painfully erect cock. 

You rolled over, showing your ass off to him. You looked back at him to see his mouth slightly agape, admiring your curves. To him, you were the most entrancing thing he’d seen in all his years. He kneeled on the bed behind you, running his hands over your smooth back. 

He caressed your ass before parting your flesh to expose your cunt once again. He breathed deeply, his cock teasing your entrance. He let your slick coat his tip before sliding into you completely.

Ford groaned, his head tipping back and eyelids fluttering. You whined at how he stretched you out. It hurt so good. He moved his hips slowly at first, letting you get accustomed to him. 

“H-how does it feel, sweetheart?” he asked shakily. 

“Harder, Ford. Fuck, I want to feel more of you,” you replied quietly. Ford sighed and laid his body against your back. 

“Don’t say things like that if you want me to last, Y/N,” Ford growled into your ear. His thrusts became sporadic, a bead of sweat dripping down his face. His hands reached around to hold onto your breasts. You could feel the build up of another orgasm already. 

“Ford.” Your voice had squeaked from the intensity of his thrusts. Everything felt so good it was overwhelming. 

“Where do you want me?” 

“Inside.” Ford let out a guttural noise at that. You then began to feel his dick twitch and that familiar warmness spread inside you. One of his fingers sneakily moved down to your clit, applying just enough pressure to bring you to climax. You screamed his name and pulsated around him. Your body collapsed onto the bed. He rested beside you. He held you flush against his chest; your breaths became synced together. 

“Let me clean you up, hon,” Ford whispered. He stood up and walked to the bathroom to retrieve a warm washcloth. “Roll over, sweetie.” You lazily flipped over with a grunt.

Ford giggled. “You’re so cute.” He started to clean up the evidence he had been there  from your inner thighs and folds. You gazed up at him lovingly. “There we go,” he said. “Good as new.” He placed the washcloth on the other side of him. 

He was smiling ear to ear down at you before placing a gentle kiss on your lips. “I’m going to run us a bath.” He kissed you again. “I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” And you meant it with every cell in your body. 

[erenjaegerwifee]

Summers In Pandora 🌸 Day 5 - Jealousy 

Paring: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Summary: Neteyam wants your attention but you’re too busy giving it to someone else

Warnings: MDNI 18+, established relationship, jealous neteyam, rough sex, explicit language, orals (f receiving), p in v, neteyam getting mad he keeps getting interrupted,

Word Count: 2.5k

Index: kelku - house, sevin - pretty

Disclaimer: All my characters are aged-up! If this makes you uncomfortable feel free to scroll and don’t read!

Main M.list | Event M.list

“Baby come on, just the tip” Neteyam’s hands roamed your body as your stood in front of the mirror of your kelku fixing your top while you get ready for your daily clan duties. Neteyam should always be getting ready but he seems to rather rut against your ass begging to fuck because he woke up with a ranging boner.  

“Nete, we have to leave I’m gonna be late for class.” you loved your job in the clan, it mainly consisted of teaching young healers but you like to help out wherever you can. You and Neteyam have been in a relationship for the pass 3 years, you both just turned 19 so you thought it was bit immature to mate so soon. Even thought you were not opposed to the idea; both your parents told you to wait until you turned 21.  

It has been about a year now you and Neteyam moved in together and it has been wonderful, you never realized before how horny he is until you started living together, not that you’re complaining. He is so active during the day and still he tries to fuck you every chance he gets. “Baby please I won’t take long” his hands squeezed the skin on your waist as he kissed your neck trying to convince you to get naked with him.  

You almost gave in before you head a knock on the wood next to your kelku doorway flap. “y/n are you ready? We're gonna be late” you heard Neteyam hiss at the voice on the other side of the tent. One of your newer students has taken it upon himself to follow you around like a tail. Which often meant he walked you to the healer's hut and back every day.    

Neteyam hated every part of it, why is this boy walking you around like you don’t have a man to do it for you. He doesn’t like it one bit. Neteyam was so tired of him showing up at your shared kelku as if he doesn't know Neteyam also lives there. He let go of you and threw on his towel on hastily around his hips matching towards the entrance flap, neteyam swings it open coming face to face with the man himself. “Why do you keep coming here? Can’t you give her space and wait until she gets to the fucking healers hut then see her? I am very much capable of walking my woman to and from her working station boy.”  

“When she tells me to leave her alone then I will until then you can’t tell me what to do” he sounded like a spoiled child. 

“Boy don’t make me pull rank on you, that is my wife-” 

“Girlfriend, that's your girlfriend. I still have a shot” 

Neteyam was about to knock him on his ass when you ran out of the kelku towards him, “Neteyam no, don’t hurt him he’s harmless” 

“Harmless? You call this harmless? He's basically a stalker.” Neteyam tries to walk around you but you place your hands on his chest, “No no stop baby come on, I have to go I’ll come by and see you a little later, ok? Go get ready for training” every pause in your sentence you kissed his both cheeks so he would calm down. With a sigh you know he was going to let you go.  

Neteyam wrapped his arm around you and kissed you deeply on the lips, he tilted his head sticking his tongue in your mouth as if her was stacking claim in front of the other man, you melt into him so easily, you always loved it when he kissed you, when he did anything to you.  

You pull away from and breath and gave him one last peck before saying goodbye for the day, you send him a sweet smile as you walked away with the boy trailing behind you like a puppy. Neteyam watch you walk your perfect figure away from him, sighing before walking back into the hut to get ready for the day. 

“Seriously you need to stop doing that, I’m not gonna be there to save you one day and Neteyam will knock you on your ass with his little finger.” you express to the boy. His ears pinned back as he nodding to your words, he never intended to make up upset, but seeing you with another man just makes him angry. 

“I’m sorry...” he said in a small voice, “It’s fine but you need to watch your behavior around him, it’s bad enough as it is” you told him as you walk into the healer's hut to start your lesson. After it was over you make your way to the training grounds to see Neteyam. 

When you get there, you watch him spar with another warrior and you say hi to his father and his brother, “Hey Mr. Sully, Lo’ak how’s it going?” they turn towards you and greet your back, “y/n how many times have I told you that you can call me Jake, or dad. You're my daughter in law.” 

“Oh, not yet dad, he has competition now” Lo’ak raised his eyebrows at you making jake raise a questioning eyebrow you. You turn back to look at your future mate sparring with the other warrior, “What did you hear?” you asked Lo’ak. “I hear that Neteyam is deeply frustrated about the puppy dog that follows you around.” his comment made you laugh.  

“Lo’ak please, I don’t want anyone but Neteyam he has no competition.” you turn your head to admire you boyfriend’s godly figure. “Why don’t you just tell him to leave you alone?” Jake asked, “Well dad, I don’t want to hurt his feelings, or make it weird he is one of mt students, I’d hate to have to teach someone who resents me” you sigh and Jake nodded. 

“I mean, I can see where he’s annoyed even now, I hate it when my wife has to associate herself with other men” Jake told you. “Oh, so he got the jealousy from you?” you laugh then Neteyam walked up to you three, “hi baby” he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you close and kiss you. “Hello bro, we aren’t also standing right here”  

“Shut up Lo’ak, so baby lesson’s over? Wanna go home and have lunch?” he asked you. “Sure, let’s go” you held his hand as he led the way to your shared kelku. He walked in behind you closing the flap and pulling you close to by your waist and kissing you, “Neteyam hm, I thought we were having lunch” you said in between kisses. Neteyam picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his slim waist, “yea baby I’m gonna eat”  

He laid you down on the hammock that sat in your common area, he didn’t want to wait to make it to your bed. Neteyam got down on the floor between your legs and pushed your loincloth up taking in the view of your pussy. You had a blush on your face looking down at him between your legs and without warning he just buried his head into your pussy flicking your clit with his tongue. 

Neteyam slid his tongue up your folds while he ran his hands up your body under your top toying with your nipples. The sensation drives you mad and you throw your head back with a moan of his name, “fuck nete-” he sucked on your clit in the way he knows you like it, “yea sevin, you taste so good” Neteyam laps up all your juices, flicking on your clit you were so close to coming when your kelku flap burst open. 

“Y/n? Are you here? Tsahik said she needs yo-” your puppy dog says as he walks in seeing Neteyam’s head dipped between your thighs. You scramble to pull the throw blanket over your legs and Neteyam’s head hiding him from view. Neteyam slide out from under the blanket menacingly, he turned his head to the boy standing at his kelku entrance. “I’m giving you one second, run away or I will hurt you.”  

Neteyam’s lips glistened with your juices even while he spoke to the boy and sent him running away from your kelku. When neteyam turned back to you, you had the blanket up to your nose and you were crouched up under it looking at Neteyam. He was pissed he had enough if this situation, for weeks you have been saying that puppy dog was harmless but it seems you were wrong. Neteyam had no idea he was so comfortable barging into your kelku. How often does he do that? 

“Baby, was that the first time he came in like that?” you hesitated before shaking your head ‘no’. “He did it before, while you were training, but I promised nothing happened.” Neteyam straighten his back and gritted his teeth, “It doesn’t matter if nothing happened when did he get so fucking comfortable to burst in here like that? And only when I’m not around, I bet he thought I wasn’t here when he did it.” you shrug your shoulders not knowing if talking would make the situation better or worse. Truthfully you didn’t know what brought on his behavior, but you didn’t want Neteyam to get upset so you never told him. “And you didn’t think to tell him to stop coming into your private space?”  

You heard it in his voice, he was pissed about this, he had every reason to be as well, “why didn’t you tell me?”  

“I didn’t want you to get upset”  

“Fuck Y/n did he ever see you in any kind of intimate positions when he bargained in?” his voice was strained but you decided not to lie. “Uhm well, not really, the first time I was making lunch for when you would come home to eat and I wearing that robe you made for me, the silky one. After that he kept coming back every couple days, he never ventured in he stayed by the doorway.”  

Neteyam rubbed his hand over his face, you liked that robe, ever since he made it for you, you loved to wearing it, but you usually did so without any clothes underneath, and Neteyam loved coming home to his naked girlfriend only covered in the thin piece of silk. He thought your nipples looked so cute against the cool fabric, the way they printed out sent him mad. 

It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know you were accidently flashing the boy, it was his fault so not respecting your space but he’ll teach him a lesson right after he does you. For keep secrets. Neteyam ripped the blanket off your body and stood up tossing it to the side, he took a step back and ordered you, “stand you, strip”  

He watched you get up and strip off your clothes for him. Your hands moved to cross over your chest but he stopped your quickly placing his hands on your wrist and pulling them apart, “no don’t hide these from me.” Neteyam walked up to you and places his hands on your tits playing with them and he brought his mouth to yours kissing you. 

You whimper into his mouth as he kneads the flesh of your tits, he tugs at your nipples making them hard and sensitive. You thought he might take you to the bedroom but instead he picked you up and sat on the hammock seating you in his lap. Neteyam didn’t break the kiss though, his hands move down your body touching everything he can.  

He always was such a passionate lover; always make you feel loved when he touched you. “Neteyam-”  

“Shh baby, I’m tired of being interrupted, I want some time with you, need to show everyone who you really belong too” his lips moved down to your neck sucking on your skin, he leaves deep purple marks and pulls away to admire his work every time before moving on and making another one. He kissed you down sucking on tits flicking his tongue on your nipple.  

You squirm in his lap and thread your hands through his braids keeping him close to you, Neteyam takes one of your hands out of his hair and brings it down to his cock, you didn’t even realize when he took off his loincloth. You gripped his thick cock squeezing it before bringing your other hand down to stroke it with both hands. Neteyam whimpers feeling your soft palm on his cock. 

He moved away from your nipples and back up to kiss your lips twirling his tongue around yours. He pulled away from the kiss but his lips still touched yours as he said, “spit on it”  

You tilt your head down spitting on his cock rubbing your slit over his length. Neteyam lifted your hips up and over his cock lining you up before he slowly lowered you down on his length. Your jaw was slack as you looked down at him but he wasn’t looking at you, he was looking down at his cock disappearing inside your cunt. “Always so tight baby” 

His eyes dart back up to your face when you bottom out and moan, he gives you a minute to adjust before he is lifting your hips up and down on him. Neteyam loved watching you on top, it’s probably one of his favorite positions. He loved watching your tits bounce in his face. Neteyam quicken his pace bouncing you faster on him listening to the way your moans got louder and the way you stuttered out those pretty ahs for him.  

“Listen baby, you listening?” he said as he sets a pace for you. “You. Will. Not. See. Him. Again. Do I make myself clear?” Neteyam said every word each time bouncing you in his cock. You clenched down on him at his words, you always did love it when he got possessive for you. 

“Oh-okk, ok” you chanted. “Let me hear you say it you’re not gonna what?” 

“Not. Gonna. See. Him” you stutter out on his cock. Neteyam smiled at your submissive nature knowing you’d never get like this for anyone but him, “good fucking girl.” Just then he saw a figure outside his doorway flap, someone was peeking through. He recognized the boy immediately and decided to have a little fun with it.  

“Oh Eywa fuck, fuck yea” you moan getting close to your orgasm making Neteyam smile watching you lose yourself on him.  

“Tell me baby, who owns you?” he smiles up at you even though you weren’t really in your right mind. “Yours-you Neteyam!” you screamed his name while cuming hard on his cock gushing your juices on his thighs. “One more time baby say it again who owns you?” he said, his voice was strained he was getting close too. “You Nete- you!” you mewl in overstimulation as he cums deep in you. Your jaw went slack once more as he held you down on him to take him seed, he drops his head on your shoulder kissing your neck as his dick pumps cum inside you. You felt him twitch when he bites down on your neck softly feeling the way you clenched down on him.  

With his tongue on your neck, he looks over your shoulder and saw the boy was gone. He really hopes he got his point across this time as he plays with the end of your tail that’s wrapped around his forearm.

🌸 I hope you all enjoyed reading! I have tons of fun with this one! If you didn’t know before I’m a Neteyam girl at heart!

🌸Reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated!

Taglist:

@rivatar @delusionalwh6re @strongheartneteyam @nilahsstuff @inlovewithpandora @neteyamsoare @m1tsu-ki @kylimarz @teymars @xylianasblog @beensbaee

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon is the father of your children… to whom you are the greatest defender. (Part II)

Warnings: this time we have drama, angst, but fluffy like usual. Maybe some smut. Long post.

@dracaryxzs tagging you once more, hope you like it!

***

• The Last Feast.

You are present at your father’s last dinner. Despite detesting the circumstances, you put an effort at your husband’s request, as much as either of you are uncomfortable with this growing awkwardness—thanks to your father’s preference over Rhaenyra and your mother’s likewise neglect.

Not to mention the Strong bastards who tease your lover endlessly—as well as your younger brother Aemond. You recollect how, when you were ten and two summers, you hit Jacaerys in his face and kicked Lucerys’ belly after their bullying over your family.

“You have no idea whom you are messing with, boys. I may be kind, I may be sweet, but I am as dragon as either of you are. If yet one may say so… considering there’s nothing Valyrian on you.”

Words—and deeds—that earned Aemond’s respect and Aegon’s admiration. Today you wish you had better control of your temper, perhaps being more diplomatic, but you’d still stand up for Aegon nonetheless.

“You look thoughtful today”, you hear Aegon telling you. “I think it’s too early for you to join this bloody dinner. You have been just churched, Y/N.”

You smile, letting memories of a distant past fade when Aegon comes at you, holding you from behind as your ladies have just finished dressing you and brushing your long silver locks.

Today you opt to wear your two-sided braided hair and a long, silk green gown which may reinforce your curves. His hands are precisely there as his eyes stare at your reflection in the mirror of your privy quarters.

About a month and half ago, you gave birth to your fifth child—and you’re already the mother of Aegon, Alysanne, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera—whom you named Baelor after your grandsire. To the surprise of many, you are not only as fertile as your sisters and mother, but just as strong.

Even though ladies are strongly recommended to avoid events after this period of churching—where they go through the process of getting cleansed carnally and spiritually under the Septs of the Seven—you care very little about such rules, specially when your sire father is about to depart this world—something that gives you mixed feelings.

“I am as good as before”, you turn at him with a smile on your lips. “I may look tired but that is because I had to wake early to feed Baelor.”

Aegon chuckles lightly.

“…all the whilst our dearest Jaehaera was found sneaking under our blanket.”

You laugh heartily.

“She seems to take after you, I’m afraid. Are you ready to put some reins in her, Aegon?”

To which your husband scoffs.

“Please. I’m here to protect and spoil my princesses. Yourself included, dear”, and saying so, he presses a kiss on your cheek. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

You spot a glint of mischief behind his eyes; it already makes your intimate parts ache for him. You gently put two fingers over his lips and bite yours when he takes to his mouth, sucking each without parting gazes.

“Mm. Someone’s not been churched enough, I see.”, Aegon teases you, now going to press you against the wall.

“My darling, you best not ruin me for the feast. We are awaited”, you try your best not to give him, but what power do you have when he, taller than you, towers over you and starts to lift the skirt of your gowns…

“Oh there you are!”, you and Aegon almost jump out the moment you hear Helaena’s voice. “Alysanne and I were looking for you!”

Suddenly the seven year old princess with short curly hair and eyes that resemble her parents shows up dressing a gown that is very similar to her aunt’s.

“Papa! Mama! Aunt Laena did my dress, look! I’ve been looking for you in order to show you it!”, she steps up proudly under Helaena’s fond gaze and clapping hands.

You are quickly straightening yourself when Aegon promptly goes to one knee to match his daughter’s height and speak as if nothing was going on before their… sudden arrival.

“You look gorgeous as ever, Alys! Beautiful like your mama!”, he beams at her, before lifting his daughter and holding her tight.

“Weeee!”, Alysanne giggles. “You can still carry me! Look, aunt Laena! Look how strong my papa is!”

Helaena is all smiles at the scene. You join her side, adding a teasing comment:

“It appears your father is still strong, uh? Here I was thinking otherwise.”

Aegon rolls eyes at you, but Alysanne points out her tongue in turn.

“There is none as strong as my papa!”

“That’s my girl!”, he kisses her cheek, spinning her around a little more before downing her at last. “Now, you best go to see your grandsire. Where is Egg? And your twins?”

“Egg has joined Maekar”, she tells him in reference to Helaena and Aemond’s oldest son. “They are insufferable.”

Helaena chuckles lightly.

“Best mates, as they should.”

“As for me… at least I have Rhae to be friends with”, and that being said the princess runs after her cousin, Maekar’s own twin, both born in the same year as Alysanne’s.

“You should be more careful, leaving the door unlocked”, says Helaena, amused.

And she turns before either of you could form a proper answer. You sigh and as you link your arm with Aegon’s, you say:

“She is not wrong, you know.”

“Where can I be faulted if these kids are growing too fast these days”, grumbles Aegon.

You poke his side playfully.

“The joke’s on you for being careless and leaving the door open.”

Aegon chuckles, pressing another kiss on your cheeks before going to the king’s privy quarters where a family reunion is expected.

*

You are sitting opposite Aemond and Helaena, next to your husband on the left side of the table. You are making sure your children are behaving well at the same time instructing your maids what to do in case they get…bored.

Whilst you do so, Aegon avoids Rhaenyra’s gaze, who sits on the opposite right of the table, with her own offspring. Trying to sweep away the taste of bad blood, he rather focuses in his own children.

The sight of his growing family brings a relief to his wounded pride. For years, longing for something his father and mother lacked in providing, seems to have been filled with your love and these of his children.

When seeing how Egg is looking for him and, once finding his gaze, smiles in search of approval, Aegon forgets his haunted memoirs and gives his boy and heir a positive sign with his thumb up.

It’s how happy Egg is that makes Aegon believe that he’s overcome his broken heart. By how proud his son looks just after being acknowledged by Aegon makes him think that… had only his father done that for years, one small gesture such as this, well… wouldn’t things be different?

Looking now at his daughter, Princess Alysanne. She’s every inch his own and Aegon takes pride in his eldest girl. She is sweet tempered and talkative—oh doesn’t she like to talk? Aegon observes how she and her cousin, Princess Rhaella, engage in some serious conversation which the prince supposes to be about dragons.

He does approve how they are bonding. And when his gaze meets Aemond’s, the eldest of the two realizes this is a better out coming than both of them expected—considering their upbringing. Aemond, of his part, gives a small smirk, considering he is proud too of his children.

And then… there are the twins, of course, and the newly born son who’s not present. Jaehaera and Jaehaerys are not gloomy nor moody, simply the mirror of Aegon’s domestic joy.

This picture of the family he never had that is now his new reality makes him at peace with his parents… even if at times, such as now, he is remembered of everything he didn’t have.

“I would like to make a toast”, says King Viserys, and his voice drags Aegon out of his particular bliss. “My family reunited here. Everyone together as it should, the perfect reflection of how peaceful our realm is.”

All eyes are set on the dying king. The evidence is clear and you cannot help yourself wondering… how all would’ve been different had he acknowledged Aegon’s inheritance. When casting a quick look at your sister Rhaenyra, you realize that she’s never wanted the high prize.

“Mama”, your daughter’s hand pushing your sleeve draws you out of your thoughts.

“What is it, sweetling?”

“Will the dragons die?”

You furrow your eyebrows, ignoring Helaena’s curious gaze at the sight of you two.

“Why would you ask this question?”

Alysanne hesitates, suddenly realizing this may not be the most proper place to speak. But since the music is now playing and the babbling is loud, you encourage her to speak her mind.

“I… I had a nightmare again.”

“With what, my dove? You will claim your dragon, eventually”, you assure her.

“I know I will, but this isn’t it. I am talking about a red dragon being smashed. It looked terrifying to watch.”

Back then, you do not comprehend what red dragon is your daughter speaking of: neither you nor Aegon’s dragons possess red scales. Before you could find a way to assure your daughter this is nothing but a bad dream, a sound takes you out of your thoughts.

“I’d like to make a toast for these… Strong boys.”

Your eyes go wide at Aemond’s bluntness. Helaena is too surprised, and you two share a meaningful, confident look. Both of you take your children out of the dining table, sensing trouble is coming out.

Later, you come back to rush Aegon out of this mess.

“I was handling just well”, he tells you prideful.

Indeed, to your relief he bears no black eye. But by how Rhaenyra looks angry, you know enmity is official.

You hold her stare as you stroke your husband’s face.

“I know. Who could beat you, anyway? You did nothing wrong.”

And by saying that, you kiss his lips, finding home in his embrace.

***

• A Storm Of Iron Blades.

Later that night, there is nothing to occupy your thoughts. With your children asleep and your churching period finally at end, you gladly resume your activities.

And your favorite one is riding your husband, of course.

“Aegon!”, you cry out his name, searching for support against the wall as his hands hold firmly your hips whilst his tongue does wonderfulness in you. “Oh Gods!”

And you move your hips gracefully, smirking at the sight of subduing such a prideful prince, yours to be king.

You arch your back, smirking wide as he slaps your hips, hair now a complete puddle of mess as you come undone.

Your husband drinks every juice you give him, such is his thirst. But domineering he still is as, restless like usual, he flips positions and is now thrusting right into you.

“We are conceiving again”, he whispers against your hot skin, turning you around so your face can be seen. Aegon wraps a hand around your neck all the whilst he pulls your hair the way you like him to.

“One more child?”, you moan loud, burying your nails against his skin as you two move as one.

“I told you we are making this a grand family”, he thrusts harder, pleased to earn a louder moan this time.

Matching his hips with yours, Aegon knows you delegate him control. Every time you come after churching, you settle under him, legs firmly tied around his waist… and when you try to swap, oh snap! He got you there.

“Kiss me!”, you demand him. “Now!”

Aegon gladly complies to your commands, pursuing your lips desperately so. In a crazy demonstration of how your connection works, both of you reach climax at the same time.

As he lies his head at your left breast, Aegon strokes your cheek and says:

“Thank you.”

“What for?”, you ask him surprised.

“For giving me what I was refused: a family.”

You peck his lips, cuddling onto him.

“I love you, Aegon. I hope you know I’d do anything for you. Anything at all.”

As he looks up at him, Aegon knows the veracity of these words. And when he kisses you, the prince fears for them at the same.

*

Little Egg comes early next morning to get his father’s attention. You realize they are very close, which makes your chest swell with pride. It’s you who welcome your eldest when door opens and you are still breastfeeding baby Baelor, despite Aegon’s protest that you should be doing so in your bed not on your feet.

“Darling! What is it?”, you smile brightly at him.

Despite the nickname, Little Egg is hardly little now. He’s grown quite fast for his age and will most likely to be very tall in his early adulthood. His hair is long now, emulating his father’s.

“I want to see my lord father.”

Thankfully, Aegon has just left his privy quarters when his son’s voice reach him.

“What’s lord for? Father is just fine”, Aegon pulls a grimace at the formality.

Little Egg chuckles.

“My lady grandmother told me I should be mindful of my manners.”

“Who cares about what that old woman says?”, and here he ignores your weak protest at how your mother is addressed. “Come here, won’t you hug me properly?”

As you sit to finish feeding your baby and hold him close, you delight at the scene of Little Egg running to the arms of Aegon, chuckling as he is spinning around before putting down.

“A egg has hatched”, says your brave little boy. “I reclaimed it as mine.”

“Well, of course it’s yours!”, says Aegon, admired. “We put that egg with you since you were born. You slept it tightly with it!”

Little Egg blushes at his remark.

“Well, either way, it’s born! And it’s mine!”

“Fantastic! What’s the name of it?”

“I thought about something to honor your dragon, papa, since it’s golden with details in silver. So I figured to call it Goldenfyre.”

You swear you thought Aegon’d burst into tears. You too think some tears come from your eyes, aware of how important this is to your husband. A moment once stolen in his childhood, but somehow regained to compose his son’s.

“Will you show me Goldenfyre?”, Aegon smiles proudly at his boy.

“Yes”, Little Egg smiles timidly, but you spot pride in his eyes. “And after that I want to show mummy too.”

“Of course my dearest”, you tell him just as delighted.

“I also saved an egg to Baelor”, he tells you proudly when coming at you to earn a motherly kiss you give him.

“That’s my boy. Remember, this is your brother whom you shall always protect.”

Very serious, says your small version of your husband:

“I will not fail in this duty, mother.”

“I know you won’t.”

As you look up, finding Aegon as tearful as you, contentment finds solace in this new home, built over a wrecked one. Perhaps the Gods could be good, after all.

*

Not everything is about family, however. You need a moment to fly with Dreamfyre again and are about to do so with your youngster one when the Queen comes after you with a grave expression.

“Where is Aegon?”

“Greetings to you too, mother”, you do not mind the disdain in your tongue. “He’s with his son. Something you could have done too if you had the time.”

Alicent looks at her daughter as if she somehow wished you were like Helaena: quieter and serene, even though you are more than aware how your younger sister is also estranged with the Queen. Not that you have been very wayward, you have rarely been at her presence… is all.

Old wounds takes time to heal.

“This is not the moment nor the time to point out my wrongs. I know you will not understand the sacrifices I’ve made for this family, but I need you to summon Aegon.”

“Can you not do this yourself since you have sacrificed so much for us?”

Alicent sighs. At times she finds hard to look at you, and you know that is because you resemble Aegon.

“Your father…”

Now she has your attention. You think wise to give your maid your Baelor.

“Yes?”

What you find in your mother’s eyes knocks your pride down.

“Your father has… departed this world.”

In other words, you know you should be prepared to war. And how strange it is when for the first time in a long while you and the queen find comfort in each other with a hesitant embrace.

Outside, you could hear the lightenings.

***

You are flying Dreamfyre when clouds start to rumble. Your dragon turns her head to give you a look as if she’s sensing your intimate thoughts. Amidst the announce of a storm sun is starting to rise in the horizon and you should go back… but you are reluctant. So she knows where to take you.

To your surprise, though, you find him there. In the very spot where everything began. Has it almost been ten years since you and him professed feelings for each other? It certainly doesn’t feel like it.

“Egg”, you call him affectionately. “I wasn’t expecting to seeing you here.”

Aegon looks distraught, a view that much plagues your heart. You take his side and hold his hand.

“War is coming. She’s not going to accept I am our father’s heir.”

“We can do this”, you tell him firmly. To his surprise, you are determined to go to the end of it. “I know my place, but you must know yours. Father has determined as tradition has that a male heir is to sit upon the iron throne. This happens to be you.”

“I wasn’t prepared for the role”, Aegon admits in one of his rare displays of weakness.

You cup his cheeks with both hands and make him look at you. Aegon finds comfort in you, solace for his insecurities, which you know so well. What’s more is that you never left him.

You stayed.

“Circumstances are better teachers than theories. I can help you with that, though. I am not made of silk or dragon blood”, you flash him a side smirk. “I have a brain sharp as sword.”

“Y/N… I never underestimated you. We…”, and here he whispers. “We both know you’d be a better queen.”

You chuckle quietly, rubbing your nose against his. Rain starts to fall but you both seem immune to it.

“Shush. I know my place, husband. You will be a great king.”

As if convinced by your arguments, Aegon rests his head against your shoulder, and you rock him gently, stroking his silver locks.

“We are doing this for our children.” He tells you firmly, regaining his composure.

Hands intertwined, eyes locked. Mutual communication.

“My Visenya”, Aegon smiles, besotted.

“My Conqueror”, you beam at him.

And all is sealed with a kiss.

*

The green council is gathering and in the meantime you spend your time with your sister and your children.

“We must be wary”, whispers Helaena to you.

You cast her a knowing look.

“Can we prevent it to happen?”

“I don’t think so. The crown has a price to pay.”

“I shall do it so”, you tell her firmly.

And then the conversation breaks suddenly.

“Mama”, says Alysanne, running to her side. “Will papa get burnt?”

Never before you detested these dreams your daughter and sister share.

“No”, you assure her firmly, giving a side glance at Helaena, who’s holding her own children protectively. “Nothing bad will happen to him. This I vow.”

To the rest of the day, despite not contenting yourself with embroidery, you settle with the role of mother just fine. But as rain gets heavier outside, you know another will come eventually: that of a wife ready to fight for her husband.

Later that evening, as you watch the children playing with their father and you rock young Baelor against your chest, Aegon tells you the plans of his coronation.

Alysanne and Little Egg are almost fighting over who climbs faster in his father’s shoulders and when he turns at them with that smile you love and says:

“Hey. What did I say?”

“One at time”, grumbles Little Egg. “But I am the heir, therefore…”

“Heir you are, but you must not forget your manners, my son. Ladies first, or has chivalry died?”, and here you try to hide away your amusement.

“Fine. You go, sister.”

Alysanne puts out a tongue, but she too earns a reprehension of her father.

“Now, now, this is not the way, Lys.”

“Sorry”, she puts out a face that makes her irresistibly cute. Aegon chuckles and kisses her temple before putting her over his shoulders. “Weee! I’m flying!”

Aegon makes a noise that you suppose to emulate a dragon’s. The whole scene is adorable and gets your children’s attention. Soon he does the same to everyone—but Baelor, who’s asleep.

“Very well. Your father is tired, he’s done for the night. It’s late and you should be put in bed.”

“Papa”, says Jaehaera, putting his sleeve.

“Yes, daughter?”

“Can you tell us a story before we go to bed?”

“Yes!”, Alysanne runs to her sister’s side and the boys too, despite them pretending to lack interest, which amuses you.

“It’s your day, honey”, you tell him in between giggles. “I’m already occupied here.”

Aegon rolls his eyes as if he doesn’t want this arduous task. However, he makes sure to get the four children to put in your bed before getting to such a mission.

First, he gets Alysanne and Little Egg under blankets before putting the twins on his knees. Second… he makes sure to get their attention.

“Now listen up. Do you want to hear a story about a dragon princess who saved her dragon prince?”

“Hear! Hear!”, Little Egg cries out. “Ladies and gentlemen, no bard nor storyteller can match our dad!”

Aegon blushes.

“Why thank you for the praise, son. So I guess this is a yes?”

“Of course! There is romance too so we are all very pleased”, says a very romantic Alysanne.

You watch as your husband is set loose to your children. He likes the attention, but more so… he likes being their father.

If we were peasants, we’d be a merrier family.

Sweeping away these melancholic thoughts that make reference to an inevitable upcoming war, you focus on how happy he looks when the burden of wearing a crown is not smashing over him.

How loved he is when surrounded by these innocent toddlers who want to please him—and Aegon is eager to please them too.

You are teary at the scene. Alysanne is watching attentively as her father tells in his own your love story behind a great deal of creativity and fantasy, which makes you chuckle quietly. Jaehaera and her twin brother are not too far behind. These youngsters who like to make your quarters a mess are unusually quiet, captivated by their father’s voice, eyeing him with the most genuine devotion of a children.

Eventually though as the story comes to an end, they are all snoring.

“Well, my king. Our bed is full”, you laugh quietly as you put asleep Baelor carefully in his cradle.

Aegon smiles, moving to where you are and putting you against his arms.

“Thank you for giving me these beautiful children. I cannot believe I am this blessed.”

“How could it be otherwise? Oh Aegon, I love you.”

You spot some tears forming behind his eyes. He clears his throat, still uncomfortable with his own sentiments. Nevertheless he says:

“And I love you, my preciosity. You are my moon and stars.”

“And you are my sun and universe.”

This evening ends well. And you kiss him in turn.

*

But even sun sets in paradise. You are outdoors with Helaena, two maids and your children when Aemond comes in.

By the looks on his face nothing good is coming. You prepare for the bad news.

“What is it?”

Aemond cannot look at you, but it’s Helaena, who runs to his encounter, who casts a look at you and says:

“War has found its home. We best be prepared to fight it.”

Like a premonition, heavy rain starts to fall. You touch your hip, feeling that dagger you keep hidden underneath your silk gown.

“Well… Let war come. It will end with fire and blood”, you whisper to yourself before going back inside with the toddlers.

***

• A Dragon for A Dragon: The Cause Must Be Avenged.

You are by your husband’s side when the crown is put atop his head and Aegon raises his sword, applauded under the cheerful voices of “Long May Live King Aegon!”

It’s at you he looks for when his smug smirk curls on his lips. You nod approvingly, pride sparkling in your eyes.

Later that day, when council is opened, you are with the children when your husband summoned you. To a general surprise, Aegon wants his wife to be present at his council.

“My lady Y/N is as competent as my brother, Aemond”, he nods at his one-eyed sibling, who gives you a quick, indecipherable gaze. “That is my decision.”

“It is as it is”, says Otto in a dismissive tone. “We need to ponder what to do to counter Rhaenyra’s actions. She’s not inclined to peace.”

“We ought to do what it takes to preserve my crown”, muses Aegon. “Who are our allies?”

Someone starts to list them. You watch Aegon’s reaction, furrowing his eyebrows as he ponders what to do with the information.

“If I may speak”, says Aemond after some babbling dies. “I suggest we take Harrenhal. It’s my understanding the Blacks are heading its way there.”

“We use our dragons before they do. But if they are armed…”, you muse in almost in an inaudible suggestion.

Aegon shoots you a glance.

“Don’t.”

You sigh heavily, but don’t argue.

“I can go.”

“But we need Vhagar”, says Aegon. “Perhaps we can do without a dragon.”

“That is impossible. We are talking about a war of dragons, Your Grace”, says Otto, somewhat impossible. “We must preserve the dragons until we cannot. There’s no need to be in such a hurry. We will come out with a defense tactic.”

“Who’s the one intending to claim Harrenhal?”, you ask suddenly.

Ser Otto gives you a quizzical look, but it’s Aemond who answers you.

“Our uncle, Daemon Targaryen.”

“He’s the right hand of Rhaenyra”, you think out loud, not minding to call her a sister when Helaena does this role a lot better. “What about the other’s?”

“You are not considering getting into this fight, are you?”, to your surprise its Queen Alicent who voices out a general preoccupation.

“Visenya did so, my mother. Whilst I perform my duties accordingly, I shall stand for my husband’s right to wear his crown”, you flash him a smile and are pleased to see him regaining confidence.

“Your loyalty is touching, dear”, says Otto genuinely caring, for you and Helaena are his favourite grandchildren. “However, what military expertise do you have?”

“I am a great dragon rider and I could use this well”, you don’t find prudent to share that you’ve been taking sword lessons for a while. And by the looks Aegon gives you, you know he knows. “I could beat Baela, though.”

“This isn’t about vengeance. It’s about war.”

“War is founded upon vengeance, grandsire”, you speak gently. “Let it be said. A dragon for a dragon, my Aegon shall be avenged.”

That said you recline back to your chair, pleased to leave everyone in the room astonished with this side of yours few—except Aegon, Aemond and Helaena— are familiar with.

*

“You must stay for the children”, says Aegon. He’s walking from one side to the other, in evident display of nervousness.

It’s just the two of you in the council room this afternoon.

“I cannot handle the possibility of…”

He leaves his fears unspoken and it’s when you walk to where he is and holds his face with your hands.

“We are in this together, whether you like it or not. Your birth right will not be stolen from you. As our children’s…”, you smile at him, fondly. “We will wage this war, but with no need to be cruel.”

Aegon rests his forehead against yours, nodding in an agreement. It’s when he pursuits your lips and you let him lead the way. Suddenly, the kiss evolves and you are gladly lying against the table as he moves over you.

Every issue is kept drowned when the needs of flesh overcomes each. Aegon needs you as much as he needs you. Here comes that boy, starving for affection, that you know.

You gasp as his callous hands run over your thighs, lifting the skirts of your gown as his lips brush against your neck, biting your neck, leaving traces of bruises.

“Aegon”, you moan out his name in response of his eager fingers digging to your core. “Oh Gods!”

His eyes look for yours and when finding yours, your hands hold his hair, pulling him over you.

“My husband”, you gasp, moving your hips against his skillful hands, and soon you take your seat at the edge of the table.

“No”, he groans against your ear when perceiving your intentions. “Just sing out to me…”

But you answer to none—despite gladly obeying him in all when it’s due—so you smirk rebelliously when your hand finds the path to his pants.

“Come here… Let’s do it together”, and you whisper in his ear. “Remember when you taught me?”

Aegon closes his eyes, already unbearably aroused by your words. You bite his earlobe, moaning softly as you speak unspeakable things, caressing his manhood until it pumps against your palm.

“Fuck”, he rests his forehead against yours, eyes closed. “Fuck, Y/Nickname…”

“Yes, baby. Together. We are always together…”

And when he rises his eyes and bites your bottom lip… well, he replaces his hand with something else and it takes little time until you reach climax.

Together.

As it has always been.

“I love you”, you mumble in his ear.

“I love you”, he whispers back.

***

“A king cannot be so until he leads his soldiers”, says Aegon before the council.

To a general astonishment, this is Aegon announcing his preparations to war.

“A king delegates others of his trust for a good reason, Aegon”, your mother snaps at him. “Do not play the reckless…”

“I think it’s funny”, you muse out loud, attracting the council’s gaze—with particular notice to a smirking Aegon, aware of how subtle your temper works, and for which he’s grateful. “How so many of you planned to make the transition to this new reign in a peaceful form, and yet when it is more than clear that war is inevitable… you stop the king to do what’s must. War should have been prevented many moons ago, but this is not the time to live based on “what ifs”. If diplomacy is not the answer…”

You stand, and you swear you detect an approval smirk from Aemond himself.

“…then fire is.”

“May I suggest a fare point that could be turned to our advantage?”, and here Aemond speaks in turn.

“Well, it appears I speak to deaf ears”, grumbles Otto Hightower.

“Listen to Aemond, grandsire. We are not as impulsive as you judge”, you speak softly.

After a moment of silence, the Hand of the king reluctantly lets Aemond speak, of which your brother is thankful for. And you take your seat next to your mother.

What happens next, however, will test the stability of your husband’s cause.

*

“Baela has been spotted flying near Storm’s End”, you are glancing through the window when you hear Aemond’s whispering to his brother. “She’s sent there in order to bring Baratheons to Rhaenyra’s side.”

“And what do we know about their position?”, inquires Aegon.

As the two men speak, your eyes concentrate at what happens at the yard. Unaware of a grave event that is to mark their father’s reign, Little Egg and Alysanne are playing with Maekar and Rhaella in complete synchrony. You feel a fang of guilt for not spending time with them, but you convince yourself this will pass. After all, you cannot neglect the role of wife. When you told Aegon you’d do anything for him, you meant every word.

“Y/N”, Aegon comes at you, hands resting over your waist. He knows what afflicts you. “When I told you to stay, I’ve meant it.”

He turns you at him, sensing your tears as if he senses his own. You cannot repress all this stress that you’ve been going through. You simply… cannot. And he’s there to hold you, to pick your pieces up.

“You don’t have to be strong the entire time”, he whispers to you, cupping your cheeks and fighting away your fears. “Look at me. I demand it as your king.”

You chuckle lightly, but when you raise your gaze, you know you are the one exposed for the very first time. And Aegon appreciates it.

“This is often the reversed role, is it not? It’s usually me asking for comfort and not the other way around”, and here he wipes the tears off your eyes. “Your unending loyalty to me, regardless of my vices and countless flaws, is a very endearing gift. We have fragilities and they do not make us weak. It makes us… humans, I think. Not a word I think of often, but here’s a brilliant learning you’ve taught me.”

And he proceeds:

“I honestly did not wish our family ripped apart like that, more than aware knowing how a war between kin displeases the deities. But what else can I do? This is not about us, but about our children’s future. I want our five, and hopefully six, toddlers to grow strong and with a prospective future”, he smiles when he manages to get something out of your sadness. “I lament it mostly deep that I’ve brought such misfortune to our family. I wish it was otherwise, that you were proud of me…”

“I am proud of you”, you cut him. “Aegon, I could not look elsewhere and choose someone else to be espoused to. As much as I get along with Aemond, this isn’t the man I love. Who did I come up to this world with? You, Aegon Targaryen. I weep because I want to give you the peace you deserved. I witnessed all these wounds and…”

Aegon swallows his own tears, knowing today you are the one who needs comforts. He comes to realize that, being this stronghold for so long, you too had your own wounds, your own pieces to get.

Oh my darling, Y/N. We are their creatures, are we not?

“You are my sun and stars”, he mumbles. “You don’t have to go through this by yourself, Y/N. We are healing together, won’t we? This is us against the world, my lovely wife.”

Lifting your chin, he presses a soft kiss over your eyes and says:

“You gave me everything I was refused in these years. You gave me love when I had none, you restored me trust when I lacked in; you granted me happiness when I was unworthy it. You make my days a lot better.”

A pause comes where a comfortable silence hangs in between. You rest your forehead against his, breathing in his silence.

“If we came to this world together…”, you whisper secretively.

“…then it is only natural that we leave it together”, Aegon vows it with a smile on his lips.

The decision is done and the pact is made.

***

You see Aegon flying high with Sunfyre and a bad feeling consumes you. Aemond is there too, so he’s going to Vhagar when you stop him.

“Nay”, you tell him firmly. “Leave this to me.”

You are not wearing your court garments, but prepared to go to war. Underneath green and silk, with some adjustments, you are dressing hauberk with two sharp blades carefully guarded. Your long silver hair is tied in a perfectly braid.

“Today we don’t spot Alyssa”, says Otto, concerned about your bold attitude, narrowing his eyes as you mount Dreamfyre and fly high. “But Visenya Targaryen has come to us.”

A remark that would later echo through generations of poets.

*

What you and Aegon agreed was to inspire soldiers in order to go to local Y/C and there make it a stronghold to his cause. However, spies delivered news that Baela Targaryen is preparing to wage war… with her grandmother, Rhaenys.

Yet, who’s coming is Rhaenys’s red dragon, Meleys. Suddenly you are remembered of your daughter’s dreams and her fear in losing her father.

In order to try to prevent agony making a nest in your heart, in barely gritted teeth you command Dreamfyre to fly above skies—as high as possible without, however, missing Aegon’s position. After that, you promised yourself to fly to Baela’s encounter: there is an unknown bad blood that you find urgent to resolve at last.

In the meantime, though, this isn’t about you, but your king, your lover, your brother, father of your children. This isn’t about a crown, but the legacy of your family—misadjusted they may be, but it’s still the one you are part of.

Grey clouds begin to assemble, but Dreamfyre flies as if it’s in her natural environment. She knows your thoughts and sentiments, she’s prepared to fight even if for a while she hasn’t been part of any of the kind.

But she can fiery.

“Baby girl, be careful. Meleys can be…”

Your words die in your throat when you see fire coming from the old red dragon. Suddenly, Dreamfyre takes a deep dive and gives such a strong bite against Meleys, getting her off guard. Part of the flames may get to you, and you think you hear Aegon screaming your name—you’re fueled with adrenaline, and you cannot stop.

All you know is that, moved by your sentiments, Dreamfyre does drag Meleys down. And it only comes to an end when both rider and creature fall down.

An explosion is heard and felt. You are flying high, Dreamfyre’s sound coming as if echoing your silent mixed feelings. Now adrenaline comes to pass, you realize part of your arm is burnt—and it hurts like hell.

“Are you well, D?”, you ask your dragon, more concerned about her than to your own wounds, in spite of the unspeakable pain.

As if to nod that she is doing perfectly well, Dreamfyre turns her head. It’s when Aegon comes at you.

“My wife!”, and when you turn at him you spot concern in his eyes.

“I told you”, and suddenly weakness comes to shake your senses. “I’d do anything… anything… for…”

And why do words die in your mouth and everything is dark? You have no idea, but you swear that you hear Aegon yelling as your eyes close.

***

• The Aftermath.

In a twist of events, Aegon II refuses to leave your bed until you open your eyes. Nothing can take his mind off you, therefore all matters are placed for now in the hands of Otto Hightower.

Your children have momentarily been put under the care of their aunt Helaena, for so distressed is the king that he cannot fail his children now.

But gods be good and you recover your strength. To your surprise, Aegon is next to your side.

“How… What…”

“My beloved wife”, Aegon smiles warmly when seeing you well and safe, mostly important: alive. “My greatest defensor. Imprudent and reckless, but possessor of the sweetest heart I know.”

He kisses you carefully, as if he’s afraid of losing you.

“What happened? Did we win? How’s Dreamfyre?”

“Calm yourself, love. Rest”, says your husband in most affectionate tone, though firm. “Dreamfyre suffered little damaged in comparison to your broken and burnt right arm and neck. Good grief, woman. It was supposed to be me.”

“No”, you breathe out of relief. “Not you. Never.”

Carefully you lean to his side, not minding the slight pain given just by a slight move. You caress his face, seeing his concern, the fear of losing you… that you risked your life for him, something none has ever done for him…

“I love you”, he whispers like the needy boy he is. “Don’t leave me, Y/N.”

“I love you too, my king”, you brush your lips against his, fingers intertwining together. “We promised to leave this world the same we walked in here, didn’t we?”

Aegon half smiles at you.

Even though the battle is won, the war hasn’t ended yet.

*

With you regaining your strength, domestic life—where the king’s and yours are concerned—goes back to what it was before your accident.

“Papa, is mama well?”, Jaehaera asks him, eyes tearful.

She’s clinging onto him as he rocks her in his arm. This afternoon you are resting and he’s decided that he needs a break of governing for a moment as well.

Under his watchful gaze, Alysanne is working in her embroidery and Jaehaerys is playing toys with his eldest brother.

“She is resting, my love. But I assure you”, and here he pauses to kiss his daughter’s cheek, earning him a beam that breaks his inner walls, “that she is well. Your mama is as dragon as you.”

“I am a dragon because of her”, Jaehaera corrects him, which makes Aegon chuckle.

Oh aren’t you adorable? How could I father such a pure child? And how… how else does she love me so?

In order to avoid the depth of such thoughts, Aegon limits himself in kissing his daughter’s forehead. Then he drives his fatherly gaze to his offspring.

“What are you seeing there, Alys? Let me see.”

Alysanne is blushing before her father’s attention. Very pompously, she takes her embroidery work so he can take a look.

“Aunt Helaena has taught me how to use the needle properly. I was struggling with the smaller ones”, she admits somewhat shyly so. “So here’s a green dragon. I want to mark in my gown your coat of arms, papa.”

Aegon swallows before the sight of his daughter, whose eyes show an eagerness to please him—a feeling he knows so well, but unlike Alysanne’s case, he was never corresponded. Precisely why the king beams and says:

“I am very proud of your skills, Alys. I am unworthy of such an honor”, says he with a wide smile.

In this sacred moment with his daughters so close, Aegon doesn’t see you come by. You are leaning against the wall, pleased to find your family in complete harmony.

Your boys, getting along… Jaehaerys trying to impress a very serious Little Aegon in his building, earning an eventual smile of his older brother’s approval. All the whilst Jaehaera sleeps in her father’s lap and Jaehaera is blushing pleasantly at the praises she receives him.

It makes you think of your own scars. How many times you tried to please your father and all you got was dismissive waves, distant conversations and comparisons to Rhaenyra?

Containing a sigh, you know how all of this is nothing to what you have now, but it’s pointless to deny these scars. They make you who you are, as it’s Aegon’s case.

Both of you are everything your parents were not. When Aegon looks at you with a smile on his lips, you smile too because you know you succeeded at it.

**

Despite the gleeful scenarios, war is still going. You are barely recovered when there are news of Baela flying to take y/c, a very important spot for the cause she defends.

You are listening to the Green Council’s strategies when you find Aemond and Aegon’s gaze on you. You lower yourself, but you know why they are concerned about you.

When defending Aemond so many moons ago, it was Baela who hit you hard. Even though you managed to knock her down, your fury was such that left the boys open mouthed by then.

A grudge that you were never able to overcome. A wound that time didn’t heal.

But the opportunity comes just fine.

“I can patrol skies”, you announce casually.

“I forbid you, Y/N”, Aegon is the first to protest. “There is no need to…”

“Y/C stays close to King’s Landing”, you muse, trying to remain calm.

“She’s not daring to come nearby when Vhagar is here”, interferes Aemond.

Both of you exchange looks. You bite down your lips, saying no more. However… opportunity to fight for your husband is coming once more, and yet at what cost?

Days go by when it’s decided that Aemond shall take Harrenhal on behalf of the Crown. This comes after Rhaenyra suffers another blow: her son Jacaerys was defeated once for all in an encounter against Aegon himself.

“I’m proud of you”, you smile the brightest as you two parade at the capital. “A great victor, that you are!”

Aegon flushes at your compliments. This day you and him ride splendid horses before all, richly dressed in order to reinforce signs that the civil war is coming to an end.

“As I am”, he takes your hand to his lips, not minding the courtly rules where public display of affection is concerned. “My greatest defensor. I am nothing without you, Y/N.”

Despite taking pride in this acknowledgment, you play the humble.

“My king, this is untrue. I only do what I am asked of: to daily submit my will to yours, to provide you heirs, to pledge for the safety of our subjects during this rebellion”, you smile at him for, despite the embellishment of your words, you speak such with your heart.

“My queen, blessed by the divine with the utmost caring for this one who gives you word; your unending loyalty and wisdom beyond your years played a great part in the conduct of the affairs of this realm. Whether I wage wars, whether I bring peace to our subjects it is in you and in the beautiful children you provided me that I think of.”

In silence, when he squeezes your hand and nods at you, you know what he means. And as you smile timidly and play the humble queen, he knows what you speak too.

In your own ways, underneath this public exhibition, one tells the other:

I love you.

‘Tis enough to make the people rejoice and praise for the health of King Aegon the Wise and Good Queen Y/N of House Targaryen.

***

• Epilogue.

War had its costs. But it eventually came to an end. Upon its twilight, revenge bled two broken houses of one dynasty for the last time. Aegon met his sister, Rhaenyra, just after you defeated Baela at the Battle of Stormlands, which would later be sang by bards how ‘two damsels, misled by the ambitions of men, took their dragons to a deadly feast and thus they danced’ until ‘the lady Baena was stabbed in the heart by a very bold move of Queen Y/N’.

Some of superstitious folks believed to have seen in you the ghost of Queen Visenya.

You brought a victory to your cause, but got yourself a broken arm. Dreamfyre was hurt too, but not injured enough to impede her to fly with you over the lands of the Baratheons, who welcomed you.

In the meantime this happened, Daemon Targaryen was defeated and Aemond conquered it all. Daemon’s lover, the witch queen of the place, Alys Rivers, attempted to transfer her affections to his nephew—unsuccessfully so. It was rumored that he said the following words:

“Mine heart knoweth no lady that is not mine damsel, Helaena.”

What was her destiny after these words were professed? The chroniclers could not tell. She vanished and many attributed to Lord Aemond her death.

Whatever the truth, Lady Helaena and her offspring moved with Silverwing to meet her husband, ignoring his orders that she should not do so until he sent for her. Apparently she knew what the outcome was going to be.

As for the battle between Rhaenyra and her brother for the throne, Rhaenyra was defeated. However, it was you who interfered on behalf of the kingdom to impede her death.

An agreement was arranged: Rhaenyra, albeit reluctantly, renounced her rights to the throne and agreed to wed her sons to you and Aegon’s daughters, as well as to wed her daughters to your sons. Peace was finally sealed and she was left to live in Dragonstone.

Once reunited, in the present day this feud is now a page in history. You are enjoying better days, ruling behind the scenes as Aegon conducts the realm with a wit that surprised most.

“He is a good king”, you tell your mother in a day where, to a general surprise, Aegon brokered a peace treaty with the Dornish. “Why it surprises you goes beyond my comprehension.”

Today you are dressing a long green, silk gown with reinforces your curves; your silver locks are carefully braided under a hair net that reminds Alicent of the days the dowager queen used to wear it herself. Besides the ravishing look, you wear the jewels Aegon recently gifted you: a pair of emerald earrings and a gold necklace.

“He was hardly the most devoted to studies, is all”, so your mother tells you.

It is a curious contrast how, after many years, you and her found a way to overcome parental issues. But even now, you find difficult to accept some of the critics she at times weaves to her eldest boy.

“Please, it was only lack of proper encouragement”, you roll your eyes as a response.

“I see I cannot make a comment about my son when I’m with you. Let us change topics”, and here she smiles. “I heard you are carrying another child.”

“Well, what can I say? Aegon makes it difficult not to engage in marital affairs”, you giggle maliciously.

Upon which Queen Alicent scoffs, feigning offense.

“To hear these words from the Good Queen Y/N?!”

“Why, I am not complaining. Pretty much otherwise.”

In between chuckles, you move to the gardens where the dowager queen finds all her grandchildren playing together.

Aemond, recently acknowledged as Hand of the King, is talking to Aegon, probably something about the affairs of the realm—judging by their serious countenance. But the one eyed prince is also attentive to his wife, Helaena, who’s teaching the now ten year old Alysanne to improve the girl’s skills, joined by their daughter Rhaella, same age as her cousin. As well as how Maekar and Little Egg—as Aegon’s heir will be always known—are talking nonsenses of their age.

The little ones are not too far behind. Aegon is holding three year old Baelor as he talks to his brother, but is in a position where he can watch over the young toddlers. It does not go unnoticed by all how Jaehaera tries to be friends with another Aegon, Rhaenyra’s son, who was sent with Viserys to be educated at court. Aegon doesn’t look very pleased, but young Viserys is too busy playing with cousins Jaehaerys and Aerys.

When seeing you with their mother coming at the happy meeting, Aegon soon excuses himself to greet you.

“My mother”, he pays the due respects to Queen Alicent, and then doing the same to you. “My lovely wife.”

“Aegon my darling”, and here you pick the chubby baby out of his arms. “Baelor, did you miss mama? Or were you too spoiled by daddy?”

Aegon gives you a smug grin.

“Well, isn’t this why I’m their father in the first place?”

“Not to overindulge, my love.” But not even you believe in what you are saying.

Soon, Helaena and Aemond join the three of you.

“Together at last”, and not to a general surprise Helaena greets you with a warm smile and her own way in showing her affection to you.

“Greetings to you too, my dearest. I was having a moment with our mother. She has some news to share”, you flash the dowager queen a mischievous smirk, pleased to find her blushing.

“Oh…”

“Shh, don’t ruin the surprise.”

To which Aemond confides a whisper to Aegon:

“As if it’s a surprise to know what she’s yet to tell.”

“It did take more years than we’ve judged”, the elder of the two agrees, struggling to muffle a chuckle.

“Well, I was worried… due to the recent events that concerned us all, that…” the Queen doesn’t really know how to put it.

But Helaena makes it easy for all of you.

“If you are happy, then we are happy for you.”

“You deserve it, mother”, you echo your sister’s support.

“But I…”

“Do not protest. We’ve always seen Ser Criston as the father we didn’t have”, says Aegon.

“He did indeed raise us, though”, so Aemond points the obvious.

“I appreciate your support. Then I think we should invite Ser Criston to join us.”

“Later, perhaps”, says Aegon, mirroring that old mischievous spirit that characterized his youth. “I need a moment with my wife and my children if you excuse me.”

“Oh yes, the family man”, teases Aemond discreetly before getting a punch in his arm.

This afternoon, all parts well and in restored peace as it should have been the way it started long time ago.

***

Aegon has just flew with Sunfyre and Little Egg with his own dragon. It’s a good time to do so and represents a unique moment between father and son.

When looking at this growing boy, who’s about to rise to Prince of Dragonstone in due time, Aegon struggles to see he’s no longer that toddler easily impressed with Sunfyre and his first time flying high.

“You are looking at me in a funny way”, says his son as they land and go back to their quarters. “Do you have news to share? Or is it the way I conduct…?”

“No, no. Not at all”, and here he pulls Egg under his arm, ruffling his hair and pleased to get him some chuckles. “I was just noticing that you are growing to a fine man and I am not ready to let that go yet.”

“You sound like mom”, and so typically he pulls a grimace.

“Your mother loves you as much as I do. One day you’ll have children of your own and you’ll see what I mean. As for news, did I tell you that your grandmother secretly remarried and believed no one would suspect she did so?”

The fourteen year old boy laughed loud. A sound that somehow is almost equal to his. Aemond smiles.

“No! I cannot believe my ears! Was she espoused by Ser Criston? But that man…”

“Shush. He’s your grandsire now.”

But the idea brings the two to joint laughters.

*

Aegon is all smiles when he’s with his girls too. After spending a while hearing Jaehaerys’s proudly progress in his studies, a deed that does impress him, he’s doting on his princesses too. You are already pompously dressed for the dinner when you find your husband hearing Jaehaera’s recent claimant in her dragon which she named Moonfyre because of the curious mix of silver and red scales.

A deed that did impress her elder sister and father.

“I know we have a great bond”, says the seven year old excitedly. “But…”

“But you are likely the youngest of our dynasty to have ridden a dragon! And all by yourself!”, and here Aegon cannot help himself and fuss over Jaehaera, who blushes pleasantly. “My little girl is getting me some headache in the future, I can already foresee it!”

“Well, she has so much of her father to be blamed on it”, you smile at him.

What a scene. Aegon joins you, not the king circumstances made him, but the grown man you loved since you could remember. When he tangles you in his arms and doesn’t mind being affective to you—“uuuuuugh” would tease the boys and even Jaehaera makes a grimace—, you know those wounds took time to heal.

Love prevailed over all.

As you’ve always believed it.

*

King Aegon II and his Good Queen Y/N of House Targaryen were found dead in an embrace that would be turned into marble. Theirs is one of the longest reign, despite the early years of civil war.

Aegon II is succeeded to his eldest son, Aegon III, married to Rhaena Targaryen, daughter of Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen. Aegon’s Hand was his long time loyal cousin, Maekar, who wedded his sister Rhaella.

No more turmoils to be seen… for a long while. Dragons did die, as foreseen by Alysanne, who became Princess of Dorne in due time, but they also survived and prospered.

[doitforbangchan]

Beside you - L.M

Pairing: Idol!Minho x reader

Requested: my wonderful friend @softkisshyunjin requested this ages ago. Sorry for the wait love 💖

Warnings: Angst, fluff, cursing, established relationship not edited 😘

WC: 1.4k exactly

This is based on the song 'Beside you' by 5 Seconds of Summer Masterlist

“All packed?” 

“Mm, almost. Just need to get my last pair of shoes.” Minho replied, reaching into his closet and pulling out his favorite pair of kicks. He set them in his suitcase and zipped it up with a sigh. “There. I think that’s all.” 

You offered him a delicate smile, smacking the top of the suitcase for good measure. Today he was leaving for another country for a series of interviews and performances for the newest comeback. You were more proud of him and his success that words could describe, but that didn’t mean you both hadn’t been dreading today for weeks. Even though you had been together for years at this point it being away from him never got any easier.

Minho ran a hand through his hair as he turned to face you, “I don’t wanna go.” 

You snorted, “Don’t say that, Chan would have your head if he heard you say that.” You reached out and smoothed the creases in his shirt, and he grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart. 

“I’m serious. I don’t want to go if it means leaving you here alone. Again.” He gazed deep into your eyes, no hint of jest in his expression. You gulped as you tried to find a good reply, and Minho could the thoughts swirling around in your head. Words you would never say aloud. 

“Well,” You started, clearing your voice. “I’m not alone. I have our babies, and you know those three are a full time job with their antics. They get it from their dad, afterall.” Of course you would use the cats as a deflection. 

“You know what I mean.” He put his forehead against yours and closed his eyes. “I’m being serious, you know.” 

“So am I, Min. This is your dream- your calling even. There's no way I would let you stay here when you have all the STAY to make happy. I’ll be ok.” Your hand that wasn’t on his heart cupped his cheek and rubbed his cheek bones softly. “Plus, you won’t be completely gone. Not really.” He hummed in question. “I’ll have you here in my heart, just as you’ll have me. Just don’t ever leave it.” 

“Never.” He answered immediately. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, Minho.” You pressed a kiss to his lips and he pulled you into his hold, squeezing you tightly and letting all the emotions within him pour into you. “Promise to call me everyday?” 

“I promise.”

The dial tone kept ringing as Minho held his phone up to his ear. He knew it was late back home, maybe too late, but he needed to speak to you- to hear your voice before he got ready for bed. He had broken the promise he made before he left to call you everyday. In fact he had gone two full weeks and hadn’t called you in over two days, having been extremely busy since he got off the plane. He was exhausted but the only thing that would give him strength to get through the long day tomorrow was you.

“Come on.” He muttered, chewing his bottom lip. “Pick up..” 

There was a crackling as the phone stopped ringing, a scratchy voice answering. “Hello?” 

Minho could tell by your voice that something was wrong, that you had been crying. “Baby? Are you ok? What’s wrong?” 

You tried to hide your sniffling with a poor excuse for a yawn, “Nothing, Min. M’ fine just in bed. Tired.” 

He knew you were lying so he pressed a little harder. “Y/n, my love, please talk to me. I can’t do anything to help if I don’t know what’s wrong.” 

“There’s nothing you can do to help, Min. It’s a me problem. I’ll get over it, I promise.” At your words he felt like he understood why you were upset, and it damn near broke his heart into tiny pieces. 

“I miss you too, my love. So so much.” His voice cracked as he professed. “I’m sorry I didn’t call yesterday. I’m so sorry.” 

There was no denying the pain that resounded in your cries when he revealed the reason for your sadness. “M’ sorry, I tried not to let it get to me. I should be used to this by now but here I am blubbering like a toddler.” 

“No, don't say that baby, it gets to me too. I miss you more than I miss breathing.I would give anything to be beside you right now.” He clutched the phone tighter in his hand, “I know you lie awake at night..” The singer was trying to find the words to say but his mind kept going back to his yearning for you. “I can’t stand being so far away while you sleep alone. My heart wants to come home.” 

“I couldn’t be selfish and ask you to do that.” 

“Then don’t ask. You don’t have to.” His mind was racing a million miles a minute, and the beating in his chest told him his heart was much the same. “I’ll fly you out.” 

There was a beat of silence from your end and it filled him with anxiety. 

“Min..” It came out as a whisper. 

“I’ll buy you a ticket right now. I can have you on the next plane out. I would do anything to have you here. Anything to be beside you.” He was frantic as he pulled out his laptop and booted it up. 

There was more silence from your end, but he paid that no mind as he looked up the next available flight. 

“Here we go, I know it’ll be a little early but there’s one departing at-” 

“Minho.” Your voice snapped him out of his rumination. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. The company wouldn’t like it if I tagged along, they already have their reservations about our relationship.” 

He scoffed, entering in your information on the laptop. “ Who gives a shit what the company thinks about it?” 

“I do, Minho. And you should too. JYPE is responsible for your whole career.” 

“Yes, they are. But I’m also a part of the reason they make so much money.” His words were cocky and he knew it but he needed to get his point across. “What are they gonna do? Fire me? As if that would fly. And if they try to say anything about it then I’ll walk.” You went to protest but he cut you off. “I’m not joking, I can’t let you be alone any longer. I need you with me.” 

“I’m not alone, you're here with me. There are pieces of us both under every city light. We are never without each other, even if sometimes it hurts. We both fall asleep underneath the same sky, and we both wake up under the same sun. Separate but never truly apart.” You sniffled and Minho knew you were wiping your tears away. The ache in his chest was still heavy, even though the way you expressed the connection you share so beautifully had eyes welling up in his own eyes. Good thing you couldn’t see his face right now or you would have teased him.

His voice broke as he spoke into the receiver. “This hurt is almost too much to bear.” 

“I know, love. But it’ll be over before we both know it. I just keep telling myself that.” 

“When did you get so wise?” He tried to crack a joke to lighten the mood, and was greeted by a small giggle from the other end of the phone. 

“One of us has to be and we both know it’s not you.” 

“Hey! I’m wise.”  The man protested.

Silence

“Sometimes.” He relented sheepishly. You both couldn’t help the laughs that escaped you both. “I still think it’s a good idea to fly you out.” 

“Let’s sleep on it, and if tomorrow you still want to buy a plane ticket we can discuss it further.” You suggested light heartedly, and even though Minho knew he would feel the same way then as he does now he agreed. “We really should get some rest, Min. You have a busy day tomorrow.” 

“You’re right, I will be busy.. Buying the love of my life a ticket straight to me. Mark my words, this will be the last day I wake up without being beside you.” 

I know it's a lil short but I am so happy with this little fic :') I hope you like it Amber 💝thank you for your patience

©doitforbangchan 2024

@jehhskz @ayejaii

[thetriumphantpanda]

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Monday)

Summary | Day One of your trip to the lake house with Joel and you can't keep your hands off each other. It's all about making up for lost time.

Warnings | Fluff, 2(3?) lovesick fools, mentions of food and alcohol, explicit smut, breeding kink, oral sex (F & M Receiving), unprotected PiV sex (We can't all have a sexy Joel Miller to make us pregnant, please wrap it up), talk of UTI's (Honestly, not worth it, PEE AFTER SEX PLEASE), as always, Tommy kinda getting cucked and Joel just being Joel.

Word Count | 5.1K

Authors Note | The love that this series has received already, without me even posting a chapter has been overwhelming and I am so grateful to you all for being so enthusiastic about this. This little trio means more to me than you can ever imagine and I'm so incredibly happy to be able to bring them back to you. I would love to know what you think about this first instalment, so please leave your comments, reblogs and my ask box is always open if you want to scream about this with me. If you enjoyed this then please consider leaving me a tip on my Ko-Fi here.

SEASON TWO OF TRIAL & ERROR. Read the first instalment here (This probably won't make sense without it.)

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

You press a kiss to Joshua’s forehead as he keeps his hands around Tommy’s leg. He’s four now, toddling about, like a perfect little human, and still, whenever you see him, your chest swells with happiness and love in a way you didn’t think would still be possible. 

“You be good for daddy, okay?” You smile, ruffling the hair on top of his head, before bending down to his height, opening your arms for him to fall into as he hugs you, “I’ll be back soon, I promise, and I’ll call every day.” 

A whole week away from your baby boy was daunting. You don’t think you’ve ever spent longer than twenty-four hours without him, but you know he’s in good hands. His dad knows what he’s doing, you’re not worried. 

Tommy has picked Joshua up into his arms, the little boy clutching onto the collar of his shirt as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. You smile into his kiss, letting your hands drop to his waist to pull him a little closer to you. 

“You make sure you give the old man a run for his money, okay?” He smirks when he pulls away, hand running over your hair. 

“He’ll wish he hadn’t come up with idea.” You whisper back, one last chaste kiss to Tommy’s lips and Joshua’s head. 

“You ready?” Joel asks from across the truck, sliding into the driver’s side. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.”  

Joel is nervous. He very rarely feels like this in his older age, especially when it comes to speaking to Tommy. They’ve grown up together, he basically helped raise him, had countless awkward conversations with him, including the one that got him here in the first place, waiting patiently for his birthday so he can steal away his girl and have one night with her all to himself, but he’s still nervous. 

It's the end of summer, Sarah will be leaving for college in the next few days, dead set on becoming a doctor, so Joel’s decided the only way to celebrate his little girl going off and doing what neither he nor his brother could do, and to ease the impending loneliness he’s going to feel at having this big house all to himself, is a cookout. He’s fed everyone, spent time keeping Joshua amused so you and Tommy can eat in peace, and now, a few beers in, he thinks he’s ready. 

He walks down to Tommy, who is cleaning the grill off, listening to the sounds of you and Sarah chasing Joshua around his garden, trying to tire him out. He puts his hand on Tommy’s shoulder and squeezes and they share a smile between them. 

“You alright, brother?” Tommy asks, brushing down the last of the grill. 

“I’m good,” Joel replies simply, “But I have something to ask you, a favour.” 

“Anythin’ for you brother.” He smiles, setting down his cleaning tools and picking up his beer. 

“I know we never discussed it, between us, but what happens between me and her, it makes me happy, y’know?” 

Tommy’s smile gets bigger, and Joel knows that because it’s all his brother has ever wanted for him, to be happy, and he doesn’t think he’s ever been so grateful for the man in front of him. 

“I know second time around it’s takin’ longer than we’d all like,” Joel sighs, you’d all been trying for months for the second baby – people had told you second time around was easier, but whoever decided that was a damn liar, “I just wondered, y’know, ‘cause she’s stressed and all, whether I could take her away?” 

“Take her away?” Tommy asks, eyebrow cocked with his lips on the bottle of beer. 

“Not from you,” Joel stutters, “Just for a week, somewhere quiet, I don’t know, the lake or somethin’, just see if her relaxin’ might help things.” 

“Where were you thinkin’?” Tommy asks. 

“I’ve been lookin’ and there are some nice places up in Colorado,” He rubs the back of his neck, not wanting to admit to his brother that he’s trawled the internet late at night trying to find somewhere he can afford, that in his mind he has it all planned out, “Close enough that we can get back if anything happens with Josh.” 

“I don’t know that she’ll get the time from work, Joel,” Tommy sighs, “It ain’t that I don’t want her to go, I know she’d love the time away, but she’s pressed.” 

Joel turns around and follows Tommy’s eyeline, you’re sitting on the grass with your back against the veranda, watching as Sarah plays with Joshua a little further away. Your head is leant back against the wood and Joel can tell you’re exhausted. A full time job, plus being a mother, whilst Joel’s got Tommy working longer and longer hours so they can finally get their business off the ground properly. 

“When was the last time she was anythin’ but a mother?” Joel asks, turning back to his brother, “Come on brother,” He pleads, “We can give her a break, give her the chance to be just her again,” Then he decides to sweeten the deal, “I’ll even give you the week off work.” 

“You really don’t have to beg me Joel,” Tommy insists with a smile, “If she can get the time off work, then you can have her.” 

You’re three hours into the drive. Joel has insisted he can make it in one go, with a few comfort breaks on the way, despite it being a twelve-hour drive, but you’re not going to argue with him. He’s well and truly in charge this week and you’re more than happy to relinquish control to him. It’s nice, having someone else worry about you, whether you’ve got enough snacks to keep you going, whether you need to stop to use the bathroom, whether you need to close your eyes and take a nap, as opposed to you worrying about doing that for your son. 

Joel is tapping his hands on the steering wheel. Sarah had made him a mixtape before she left, supposedly full of the songs they used to listen to in the car together, though you can’t imagine Joel had allowed much Taylor Swift judging by how fast he was to press skip when the familiar sounds of Teardrops On My Guitar started playing through the truck. He’s just finished singing along to Bon Jovi, a smile on his face as he looks at you. 

“I love your voice,” You smile, running your fingers lightly up the arm that is resting near you, his warm palm on your thigh as he drives, “It’s not too late y’know, to make it big with your guitar.” 

He snorts but with a smile on his face, “I was never any good at bein’ on stage, always got choked up and froze,” He turns his head to you a little, “I’m happy to just save my singin’ for you.” 

The CD he’s got playing skips to the next song and the sounds of Destiny’s Child’s Survivor start filling the car. Joel is already moving to press skip so you grip hold of his wrist. 

“Don’t you dare,” You warn, “This is such a good song.” 

“Sweetheart, come on, you don’t really wanna listen to it.” 

You chuckle at him, “You’ve listened to everything you wanted, just give me this one song.”

“If I’m lettin’ you listen to this,” He growls, “Then you’re gonna owe me.” 

“Is that right?” You play coy, “And what do you deem suitable payment for a single Destiny’s Child song?” 

You watch his face, still trained straight ahead on the highway, but with that smirk that you always love to see from him. It means he’s thinking something filthy and filthy Joel is something you simply cannot get enough of. You watch as his eyes meet yours momentarily and then drop to his lap. If you hadn’t been so focused on his face, you’d have missed it, but your eyes trail down his body where you can already see him growing in his jeans. 

You lean back in your seat, nodding to yourself, “Joel Miller, grown man, wants me to suck his cock whilst he drives, just like a horny teenager.” 

He brings a hand to the back of your neck and squeezes, trying to gently drag you forward, “I’ve waited a fuckin’ year to have you to myself, pretty girl,” He speaks lowly, “Didn’t think I was gonna wait for a bed, did you?” 

You chuckle but move to undo your seatbelt. He keeps his hand resting on the back of your neck, but it’s gentle. He doesn’t pull you towards him, just waits for you to set your own pace. You reach across the console of the truck with your hand, palming him through his jeans, reveling in the way his head tips back and he lets a long sigh fall from his lips. 

“You missed me, huh?” You tease, bringing your fingers up to the button on his jeans, you should have known he had something planned when he turned up without his belt on. 

“You seriously askin’ me if I missed you?” He asks as you pop the button and drag his zipper down slowly. 

You lean over, lips pressing a chaste kiss to the scruff on his jaw, “Boost my ego, Joel Miller,” You whisper into his ear as your hand sneaks underneath the waistband of his underwear, “Tell me how much you missed me.” 

He lifts his hips for you a little so you can shuck his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out. You lean over, Joel’s wide palm still resting at the nape of your neck as you fist him, running your hand up and down his length. If you were a stronger woman you’d tease him, but you’re as desperate for him as he is for you, so you bring your mouth right to him, swirling your tongue over his tip, lapping up the drops of pre-cum that are waiting for you. 

Your wrap your lips around him and swallow him down as far as you can take him without him hitting the back of your throat, using your hand to pump the length your mouth doesn’t reach, swirling your tongue around him as you pull your mouth back up. 

“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl,” Joel groans above you, hand tangling in your hair as you continue to bob your head up and down on him, “You’ve done this before.” 

It strikes you in this moment that in the four or so years you and Joel have been together like this, he’s never once let you put your mouth on him like this. Before Joshua, he had always been hyper focused on your pleasure, whether you felt good, and in the years since, in those few short hours you had together, he’d never once asked for it, had stopped you when you tried, he’d only ever come for you when he was fucking you. 

You sneak your hand lower, cupping his heavy balls in the palm of your hand as you take him further down your throat. The added sensation of your hand has him bucking his hips up into your mouth enough that you have to pull away from him, coughing and spluttering. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” He worries, taking his hand from your head, “Are you okay?” 

“Focus on the road, Miller,” You demand, moving to get right back down to business, “If I choke to death on your cock that’s my business.” 

“Kinda hard to focus on the road when I’m seconds away from filling your mouth, pretty girl.” You can hear the strain in his voice as you start working his cock again, pulling off only long enough to reply. 

“That’s what I want,” You whisper, “You gonna come down my throat Joel?” 

“That what you want?” He grunts from above you. 

“Wanna taste you.” 

“Well pretty girl, you just keep goin’ and I’ll give you what you want.” 

He stays true to his word, and after a few short minutes, he’s gripping a fistful of your hair, breathing your name out, as his cum spreads across your tongue. Salty, masculine, musky, but distinctly Joel, and you think from this moment on you might be hooked on the taste of him. 

You pull back up, sitting back in your seat, Joel turning his head to watch you as you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out just enough to show him what he’s given you. Then, you close your mouth and swallow every last drop, wiping the small amount that had gathered in the corner of your lips back into your mouth.

“Jesus,” Joel breathes, “You’re somethin’ else, baby.” 

It’s late evening by the time you and Joel arrive at the lake house. It’s dark so you can’t properly take in your surroundings, but it’s peaceful and quiet, and when you step out of the truck, it smells different. The smell of pine and fresh water fills your senses and it’s at this moment you realise you really needed this – a break away from the suburbs and the city you’re so used to. 

You make a simple dinner of chicken and roasted vegetables, washed down with lukewarm beer that hadn’t had a chance to properly chill. Joel insists on doing the dishes, silently cursing he didn’t pick a cabin with a dishwasher. The more time he has to spend washing up, the less time he can spend buried deep inside you, which is what he wants most right now. He’s hungrier for you than he’s ever been, you having refused his offer to pull off the highway so he could return the favour earlier. 

You’ve taken two fresh beers from the fridge outside with you. He can see you sitting on the small swing seat on the porch, taking small sips of your drink as you wait for him. You’re on the phone to Tommy, letting him know you arrived safely and then he can hear your voice change as you speak to Joshua – more high-pitched than normal. The conversation doesn’t last long, Tommy clearly needing to put Joshua down to sleep, so you’re hanging up the phone in no time. He notices you shiver through the window, so he digs out one of his flannels from his bag that hasn’t made it to the bedroom and takes it out with him, draping it across your shoulders. He takes a seat next to you, his thigh touching yours, as you hand him his beer. 

“I bet this view will be beautiful tomorrow.” You muse, taking another sip of your drink. 

“I don’t know,” He speaks back softly, looking at you, “It’s pretty perfect to me already.” 

You can feel your face grow hot at the compliment, but you smile. Joel drapes his arm across the back of the bench, and you automatically shuffle in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as his hand trails up and down your arm. 

“So, how have you really been in that house without Sarah these past few weeks?” You ask, hand coming to rest on his thigh. 

“It’s been strange,” He answers honestly, “But I’m so proud of her, my little girl training to be a doctor.” 

Your heart swells because you’re pretty fucking proud of her as well. She’d worked so hard to get into medical school the past few years, finally settling on what it was that she wanted to do, and you have no doubt that she’s going to find some incredible medical breakthrough during her career. 

“Still don’t know where she got her brains from,” He grumbles, “Sure as hell ain’t from the side me and Tommy got ours.” 

You swat your hand to his thigh, “What have I told you about being kind to yourself?” You chastise, earning a low laugh from him, “Don’t sell yourself short, you started your own business Joel, not everyone can do that.” 

He nods, but you think it’s more to placate you than understanding his worth, but you decide to let it lie, “You know, she’s not far from here,” You offer, “If you wanted, you could go and see her.” 

“I’d like that,” He smiles, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “I’ll call her tomorrow, gonna have to think of a white lie as to why I’m all the way out here though.” 

“I’m sure if we put our heads together, we can think of something.” 

It’s silent for a while between you. Listening to the wind rustle the leaves on the trees is soothing. Pair that with Joel’s gentle tracing up and down your arm, and the way he’s slowly rocking the swing with his foot on the ground, and you’re almost ready to fall asleep. 

“Hey Joel,” You whisper, leaning your head up towards him, he answers with a hum of acknowledgement, “You wanna take me to bed?” 

He leans down, pressing his lips softly to your own, “I thought you’d never ask.” 

You stand, extending your hand to his, which he takes, letting you lead him back inside. Because he’s used to it, the routine of checking the locks at home, he makes sure he double checks all the doors are locked before letting you take hold of his hand again and lead him down the small hallway, into the master bedroom at the end. 

The bed is huge, white sheets resting on top, with plump pillows at the end. If it wasn’t for Joel’s hands on your hips and his lips on your neck, you’d be focused on falling into it and going straight to sleep. He’s walking you forward, trailing wet kisses down the expanse of your neck, then he turns you once your knees hit the foot of the bed. 

He brings his palms to your face, cradling it in his hands as he leans down, pressing those soft, plush lips to your own. You bring your arms to wrap around his shoulders, pressing yourself up on your tiptoes as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling your body flush to his broad frame as he opens his mouth, tongue licking into your own mouth as he deepens your kiss. It’s the first time he’s kissed you since last year, both of you having some form of silent agreement with each other that Tommy doesn’t need to see that. He see’s everything else you do when you’re together, when he’s watching his brother fill you up, this here, when Joel kisses the very breath from your lungs, this is just for the two of you. 

With his mouth still latched to yours, he uses his hands to push his flannel from your shoulders, before he reaches down and tugs your own shirt from where it was tucked into your jeans. He takes his time, unbuttoning it one notch at a time, until that too is pushed from your shoulders. You don’t even realise he’s undone the button on your jeans until he’s pushing them down your hips – too focused on the way his mouth tastes. 

“Sit down, pretty girl,” He whispers, dropping to his knees, “Been drivin’ me wild all day,” His hands trail up your legs, parting them in front of his face when you perch on the edge of the bed, “Thinkin’ about you all wet down here, after you sucked my cock.” 

He runs his thumb over the front of your panties, tracing the seam of your pussy, which has indeed been completely soaked for him since you sucked him off. He presses his mouth, wet and hot, against the delicate skin of your thigh as you let your head drop back and a sigh to escape your mouth. His mouth comes to rest between the crook of your thigh, where the seam of your underwear is, and you think he might just pull them to the side and give you what you want, but instead, he starts a trail of kisses from the opposite knee, moving slowly up your other thigh until you’re squirming for him. 

“Don’t tease me,” You beg, running a hand through the curls on his head, “Make me feel good, Joel.” 

“This what you want, pretty girl?” He asks, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, dragging them off you when you lift yourself off the bed a little, “Want my mouth here?” 

His thumb runs up the seam of your pussy, the friction without the barrier of your panties delicious now. You spread your legs for him, heels resting on the bottom of the bed, baring your spread, aching cunt for him. His palms are resting on the inner part of your thighs now as he leans in, lips pressing a single chaste kiss to your clit. 

“Fuck,” You breathe out, chasing the feel of his lips as he pulls away, you almost whine until you feel him push one of his delightfully thick fingers straight into your weeping pussy, “Fuck Joel, holy shit.” 

He’s grinning up at you like the devil when you look down, pulling his finger out all the way before slipping it into his mouth to clean it off, “You been this wet all day?” He asks, thumb moving to gather the slick at your entrance to drag to your clit, moving in featherlight movements. 

“Y-yes,” You manage to choke out, “This is what you do to me.” 

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he puts his face right back where you want it, tongue licking a firm, wide strip from your weeping hole and up to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to place precise flicks on your swollen bundle of nerves. He’s so fucking good with his mouth it actually hurts. He’s managed to learn exactly how you like it, what combination of moves with his mouth and the addition of his fingers bring you over the edge the fastest and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. He slips two of his fingers back inside you, curling them straight up into that spot within you that makes you cry, lips sucking your clit into his mouth whilst his tongue still moves perfectly across you. 

“God fucking damn it, Joel,” You cry, fingers tugging at his hair as you push your pussy closer to his face, “Gonna make me come.” 

He doesn’t bother to pull his mouth away from you to tell you it’s okay like he usually does, just continues the movements just as they are until your crying his name out, the rope that was pulled taught inside you snapping as your pussy clenches around Joel’s fingers and you come so hard your vision blacks out for a moment.

You collapse down onto the bed, arms no longer able to hold you up as Joel takes his mouth from your clit, gently pulling his fingers from you. Without needing to be asked, you scoot up the bed, letting air fill your lungs. Your eyes are trained on Joel as he starts to undress in front of you, smirking at you when he drags his shirt over his head. 

“You should charge people for this,” You mumble, “Sure a lot of ladies would pay good money to watch you strip.” 

“Like this?” He chuckles, slowly undoing the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down painfully slow as you start humming, encouraging him to really put on a show, “Zip it.” He laughs, pushing his jeans down his legs, his cock hard and pressing against the thin material of his boxers. 

He shucks them off his body as well and you watch, captivated as he fists his cock, he is, next to his brother, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Joel Miller,” You breathe out as he clambers onto the bed, pulling you up slightly so he can take your bra off, “Do you know that?” 

His mouth is pressing kisses between your breasts, letting his teeth nibble small marks across your chest before he takes one of your nipples in his mouth. You can feel his cock pressing between your folds, running up and down your pussy as he settles properly between your thighs. You run your hand through his hair as he trails his lips up to your face, peppering your jaw with kisses. 

“Can’t say I’ve been told much,” He whispers into your ear, “But I’ll take it.” 

You can feel him reach between you, base of his cock in his hand as he brings the tip to your slick cunt. He thrusts forward just a touch, giving you the tip, lips settling onto your own so he can swallow the small moans you let out as he inches deeper and deeper into you until he bottoms out. You shift your hips underneath him, legs hitching around his waist. 

“Baby please,” He pleads, “You gotta give me a second,” His head dropping to the crook of your neck, “Fuck, how does it always feel like I’m fucking you for the first time?” 

You want to give him all the time in the world but you’re just as bad as he is. He needs to move, and he needs to move now otherwise you think you might actually die. 

“Please Joel,” You moan, rolling your hips up into his, hand still firmly tangled in the curls at the back of his neck, “You need to move.” 

“I ain’t gonna last, babygirl.” He groans as he pulls himself out and slams back into you. 

“Don’t care,” You moan as his lips attach themselves to your throat, “Just need to feel you.” 

He moves, placing his hands on either side of your head, pushing himself up, as he drags his cock from your tight heat and starts thrusting properly. You’ve had this man more times than you can count, two or three times a month for the past six months whilst you try for your second baby, but the way he feels inside of you never fails to set your body on fire. 

He’s always so big, and you feel so fucking full of him. You close your eyes and tilt your head back further into the mattress as he drives himself deeper into you, head of his cock brushing against your cervix. It’s pain and pleasure, it’s too much and not enough all at the same time. He makes you stupid when he fucks you like this. Focused on one thing, and one thing only. 

One of his hands clutches your chin, his voice hoarse with pleasure, “Look at me,” He demands, “Give me those beautiful eyes when I fuck you.” 

You do as you’re told, eyes opening and staring into his own chocolate orbs that are dark with lust. God, you love him. You know you shouldn’t love him this much, it’s dangerous, but he’s so fucking good to you, you can’t help yourself. 

“Good girl,” He praises, making your pussy clench around him, “Doin’ what you’re told, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” 

“So good Joel,” You moan, fingers gripping the meat of his biceps as you hold onto him, hips rolling up to meet his with every thrust, “Want you to come for me.” 

“Yeah, want me to fill you up, pretty girl?” 

“Yes Joel!” You cry, “Fill me up baby, please.” 

His hips start to falter from their precise thrusts of before, he’s so fucking close, you can see it on his face, hear it in his growls. He dips his head back to the crook of your neck, teeth nipping along your collarbones as he pounds into you. He lets out one long moan of your name as he stills inside you, and you can feel the familiar warmth of his cum filling you up. He brings one of his hands down to cup your ass, lifting you up a little, as if he thinks the angle of your pelvis makes much of a difference when it comes to getting you pregnant. 

He groans into your neck as he slips out of you, letting your hips finally drop to the bed as he rolls off you, collapsing in a heap beside you as he catches his breath. You lean over, kiss pressed to his cheek with a mumble that you’ll be back in a minute once you’ve cleaned up, the pain of last month’s UTI still fresh in your mind after you fell asleep without going to the bathroom. 

When you return, two glasses of water in hand, he’s already pulled back the sheets and has settled himself back against the pillows. You hand him his glass, setting yours on the nightstand as you climb into bed, settling your aching bones against your own pillow when you realise this is uncharted territory with you and Joel. When you spend your one night with him, neither of you sleep – you spend as much time as you can connected, making each other feel good, and when he’s with you outside of that, with Tommy watching, or joining in, whichever he feels like doing that night, he’s always gone in a flash. You’ve never settled down to sleep next to him, you don’t know if he snores, you don’t know if he wants you to cuddle into his side and drift off to sleep together. 

“Stop thinkin’,” He sighs, “And c’mere.” 

You smile, crawling over the space between you as he moves his body down to lie flat on his back. You drape one of your arms over his tummy as his wraps around your shoulder, the other resting on your arm wrapped around him. You bring your leg up to wrap between his and let out a sigh. 

“You have no idea how much I’ve always wanted this,” He whispers quietly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Somethin’ so simple as fallin’ asleep with you.” 

You hum against his warm skin, letting the thumb that’s resting on his tummy start rubbing small circles on his skin, “It’s nice,” You speak, punctuating it with a yawn, “Hope you don’t snore though.” 

His chest rising with a chuckle as he pulls you tighter to his body, “Go to sleep, babygirl,” He speaks quietly, “I’m gonna wear you out tomorrow.” 

You don’t know whether he’s referring to the hike he wanted to take you on through the mountains, or the fact that you both know what you’re really here for. Is he going to keep you right here on this mattress all day, filling you up until you can’t take it anymore? Either way, being here with Joel has already been the ointment you needed for your stress. Your shoulders are more relaxed, and you don’t have the headache you usually do at the end of the day from gritting your teeth. Whatever he’s got planned, you’re going to take it, and for now, you’re going to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that this time, though longer than you ever get, is still fleeting. You can worry about that another day. 

Taglist: @morning-star-joy @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @tightjeansjavi @kaitangatatacos @paleidiot

[the-modern-typewriter]

The Art of Turning 30

“So, am I allowed to talk?” Annabelle gave an awkward little laugh, that she immediately wanted to stuff back into her mouth. “I’ve never done this before!”

“You can talk.” Julian flashed her a quick, reassuring smile. “At least until I tell you not to.”

They both laughed, then. Julian’s laugh was not awkward.

It was six months until her thirtieth birthday.

She had met him at her girlfriend Camille’s twenty-ninth birthday party, a few weeks ago, only to be surprised that they’d somehow never crossed paths before. London was big, but it wasn’t that big surely, and Julian was an artist.

Annabelle felt like she spent half her free time at artsy bohemian parties and amateur gallery openings, though maybe that was why. He wasn’t an amateur, was he?

She’d looked him up online after and seen several shining reviews of his first exhibition, and a rosy buzz of anticipation at what he’d do next.

She remembered that buzz. People used to get that buzz when they talked about her. Apparently, his work was ‘visceral’ and ‘felt startlingly alive’.

It seemed impossible that he wanted to paint her, of all people.

Annabelle shifted on the stool, glancing around Julian’s studio space as he finished setting up his easel and paints. Oils. He’d said he was using oils. That mattered in painting, didn’t it?

The studio was everything she’d always imagined a professional artist’s studio to be. It was quite large, with clean wooden floors and white walls crowded with stacks of sheet-covered canvases in progress.

There was only one that was ready and visible; a painting of a beautiful blond man, probably nearing thirty too, lounging on the same stool that Annabelle was perched upon. He gazed out at the viewer with a hungry sort of hope. Like they were the best thing he had ever seen.

The studio smelled like drying paint and the sandalwood diffuser wafting its calming scent from the window sill. Sunlight coated the room like honey, or gold.

“You’re not going to make me look ugly, are you?” she asked.

He smiled again, meeting her eyes. “I couldn’t possibly.”

He probably flirted with all of his models, but she still felt a blush of heat rise to her face.

He looked like he could be in a painting, or one of those classical sculptures still concerned with archetypal ideals of beauty. Of course, she was with Camille, so nothing would happen…but still. The attention made her heart pound. Camille was usually too tired from work to flirt with her anymore.

Annabelle wasn’t sure how good she’d be at seeing a painting of herself that she hated, and not letting it show on her face. She’d probably tear up. It would be embarrassing for both of them. She shifted on the stool once more, and tugged at the hem of her summer dress.

“This is for your next exhibition?”

“I think I’m going to call it ‘The Art of Turning 30’.”

“Explains why I’m your muse instead of some gorgeous twenty two year old ingenue.” She laughed again. He did not. She continued, even as she willed herself to stop babbling, because he wasn’t looking at her with the expectation that she do anything. He plucked up a pencil, beginning his work. “It’s like, when you’re a woman, after you turn thirty your life is over, right? It’s like with my acting. And then by the time you’re forty all of a sudden all you can possibly be is, like, a mother or a witch. Or, you know, the dead wife. It’s all downhill.”

“You wouldn’t want to be a witch?” He raised a brow. “They always seemed pretty powerful to me. I could see you as a witch.”

“But do you know what I mean?”

“Can you turn your head a little the left, please?”

“What? Oh. Yes.”

She turned her head to the side, towards the window, and hoped the sunshine made her seem younger rather than highlighting every growing crag and wrinkle.

She could only watch him out of her periphery vision now; a wistful muse, seemingly unaware that she was being observed. She tried to look deep and mysterious.

“Perfect,” he said. “Thanks. You’re just perfect.”

The canvas of the blond man fell to the floor with a soft thump.

Annabelle jumped.

“Sorry.” Julian shook his head, another easy laugh on his breath. “The landlord never lets me put proper hangings on the wall here. Says it wrecks them. I guess so long as they don’t do that at the exhibition?”

“I don’t know, you could probably play it off as a stunt…lean into the photorealism.”

“Now, there’s an idea. Genius.” 

She probably didn’t look deep and mysterious. She probably just looked smitten.

***

She sat for Julian three times a week for the next several months.

It became a pocket of peace in her life, the hours when it was okay to finally stop and be for a while, because everything else seemed to be hurtling through her fingers faster than she could clutch hold of it.

She’d always imagined that she would be a successful, or at least up-and-coming, actress and screenwriter by the time she turned thirty.

Sure, women only made up around 30% of the directors or writers behind the camera, but back in school everyone always said that maybe she’d be the one to change that. She wasn’t entirely sure when they stopped saying it, but they had.

It was three months until her thirtieth birthday.

“Here.” Julian caught hold of her chin, featherlight, angling her back towards the sun. The days were getting shorter. Time was running out for them both. “You were like this.”

She had got in the habit of always sitting a little wrong, because he’d always adjust her, oh so careful and attentive, like she was his masterpiece.

She would have probably preferred to be her own masterpiece, but being his seemed like the second best option. She could practically feel the ghosts of forgotten, underappreciated female muses-past screaming at her that no, it was always better to be somebody than someone’s, but frankly she wasn’t sure she could be picky.

She’d been getting less and less call backs, and was starting to feel more like she was a part-time waitress dabbling at film than a part-time actress-filmmaker working hours in hospitality to make ends meet.

It was like a window was closing. Her window. That morning she’d found an honest to the devil grey hair on her head!

Camille told her that she was being ridiculous – that she’d become increasingly vain since Julian started painting her.

Annabelle had snapped back that vanity wasn’t vanity for an actress. Her looks were her currency.

It hadn’t always been so hard, had it?

All in all, it didn’t seem like a sin to let him touch her. It was nice to be touched. There was nothing untoward in that.

She peeked up at Julian, standing over her, his star ever on the rise. Their stares met again. He smiled that quick, reassuring smile of his.

“You look tired,” he said softly.

“Sorry.”

“No, no.” He widened his eyes. “I didn’t mean—” he huffed gently, and let go of her. “I haven’t got to your mouth yet. If you want to talk about it.”

Annabelle grinned back before she could stop herself.

It had become a standing joke. She sometimes felt she spent their whole time together talking about herself, but he always said it was interesting and made the hours fly. He was a very good listener.

More privately, she sometimes suspected that he was leaving her mouth for last just so they could continue chatting, but she wasn’t allowed to see the painting to check. The thought was thrilling though.

 “It’s nothing,” she said, even if she already knew she’d probably tell him everything on her mind. “I don’t know.”

What would she do when the painting was done? She’d see him at his exhibition opening, probably, but there would hardly be a reason for them spend time together like they did when she was sitting for her portrait.

Maybe it was silly to consider him one of her friends. She’d miss it, though. She’d miss him.

Maybe he’d want to do another one of her, but who was she kidding? Maybe in ten years, when he did a gimmicky but charming follow up. The Art of Turning 40: Where Are They Now?

What did he know about turning thirty anyway? He couldn’t be more than twenty-five. He had loads of time.

“There’s an intimacy,” he murmured, “to painting someone. Especially like this, in the old fashioned way. A lot of people use photographs and quick studies because they’re more convenient and you don’t have to catch the right light, you know? But I love it.” The air filled with their breathing, and the soothing dab of his paint brushes on his palette, mixing up the colours of her. “You really get to know people this way. It adds soul to the work. It’s magic.”

She felt, more than saw, his gaze cut over her again.  Her blood was electric beneath his scrutiny.

He continued, softly.

“I knew from the moment we met that I wanted you to be my centrepiece for this one.”

“Flatterer.”

“It’s true!” He laughed. “You have this great energy. I knew you were going to be interesting, and I was right. And you know how to model well. Because you’re an actress, right? You’re used to people looking at you.”

An actress, no ‘wannabe’ or ‘aspiring’ or ‘failed’ tacked on front. She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him as best she could without turning her head.

“My boss always says I should have more energy, then I’d wait tables faster.”

“What does Camille say?”

“Camille—” Annabelle blinked in surprise, then swallowed. Her hands curled in her lap. She resisted the urge to sigh.

“Uh-oh.”

“No, no,” she said. “It’s fine. I just – she thinks if I’m not happy I should do something about it. She’s always telling me about other things I’d be really good at that have better pay, or more sociable hours.”

“So, give up on your dreams already.”

“Yeah.”

Annabelle deflated. She knew that Camille didn’t mean anything bad by it, but that was what it implied, right? She was never going to be a famous and successful actress or screenwriter, so she should settle for something manageable.

“Well, she’s not a creative, like us,” Julian said. “She doesn’t get it.”

Like us. Annabelle was a horrible girlfriend for feeling a swell of pleasure at that. It was true, though. Still.

“We’ve been together for a really long time, and she’s been really supportive. I think she’s just finding the whole ‘me turning thirty’ thing annoying. Mainly because I won’t shut up about it. Which I’m sure you sympathise with!”

Camille said that anyone who claimed life stopped at thirty was an idiot. There was no limit for potential, no one age where everyone had to have their life together and perfect by.

She was probably right, but Annabelle could still feel the panic of it clawing at her the closer her birthday got. Even if she was successful after thirty, she wouldn’t be one of those young geniuses that everyone had expected her to be. She wouldn’t be exceptional.

She would just be Annabelle. It didn’t feel like enough. Maybe if she could see herself like Julian apparently saw her, it would be better.

“Chin up,” Julian said.

Annabelle cleared her throat again. “Right, yeah.”

“No, I mean.” His voice was deadpan. “Your head. You’ve moved. Drooped.”

She shot him a look over her shoulder. The melancholy shoved itself down again in the pit of her stomach.

He tossed her a wink from behind the easel, to indicate he was joking. Only trying to cheer her up and lighten the mood.

“So, I still don’t get to see what else you’re working on, huh?” she asked.

“I’d have to kill you.” He switched to another, smaller brush in her periphery vision.

She snorted.

“It would be very inconvenient all around,” he said. “Rigor mortis sets in fast. I’d never get the painting done in time.”

“Well we can’t have that. After you’re finished with me then, I suppose.”

“Our art is a part of us, Annabelle.” He shot her another glance in turn, brush poised above his image of her, considering. “So how, then, could I ever truly be finished with you?”

Her breath hitched in her throat. She debated possible responses to that, and how he could have meant it. Her body felt warm and flushed.

He gestured that she angle her head left once more, not looking away for a second himself.

Annabelle turned.

The summer waned outside the window, but in the painting she would still be in her sundress, legs tanned and toes painted sky blue.

Thank god he kept his studio warm. The minutes ticked by, the air between them settling tranquil once more.

“Sometimes,” she said, softly, “I wish we could stay like this forever. Freeze the moment. Is that stupid?” It felt a confessional thing to say. Bold.

“No.” She could hear the equally soft smile in his voice. “It’s not stupid. Isn’t that how I got you to agree to do me this favour?”

She remembered the party; an adult version of what they all used to do, even if it still felt like they were all pretending to be grown-ups. Or at least, Annabelle felt like she was pretending. She didn’t feel twenty-nine.

She’d clutched her glass of wine and hovered near a somewhat strained conversation about mortgages and the state of the housing market, and how none of them were going to be on the property ladder before they were fifty, before she caught sight of Julian coming in. 

She echoed his words, and didn’t have to fake her wistfulness that time.

“To be remembered in art is the closest any humans’ get to immortality.”

He echoed the next line back at her. “Doesn’t that sound like fun?”

And she’d said yes.

***

“I’ve got a date for the exhibition,” Julian said, from behind his easel. “A few weeks after your birthday. Short notice, I know. Soz.”

“Ugh, don’t mention the B word. But that’s exciting! Can I come?”

“Of course you can come,” he said. “It’s why I’m telling you. This wouldn’t be possible without you.”

“I mean, while sitting here is terribly difficult,” she said, “I do feel like you should get some of the credit. Just some.”

She heard him laugh.

She’d grown to love Julian’s laugh; he was so ready to do it, at least in their sessions.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Camille laugh at something she said. Then again, she wasn’t sure the last time she and Camille had spent all that much time together.

By the time Camille got back from a day of teaching, Annabelle was usually already out for the night shift at the pub she waited in. Yet another thing in her life that wasn’t working like it was supposed to!

Camille said that could be worked on if, hey, Annabelle was willing to actually prioritise their relationship.

It had been one of their worst arguments to date.

“There’ll be thirty paintings in total, I think,” he mused, more talkative than normal. “Yours being the main one, like I said.”

“I’m sure you will perfectly capture the raw turmoil of turning thirty.”

He laughed again. It had been one of the most notable reviews of his first exhibition – except the exact wording had been that his work perfectly captured ‘the raw turmoil of adolescence, as an emotional and nostalgic period of change and growth’.

He’d finally caved and showed her some of his previous pieces, other than the ones she’d managed to find online, as a compromise of his refusal to show her how his painting of her was coming along.

Most of the individual pieces from his first exhibit had been sold off, but he’d kept the main one.

His main piece – Girl On Swing – got the most praise, so it had apparently been a bit of a scandal that he hadn’t sold it. He’d had offers.

It was a triptych (Julian’s word) of a girl, unsurprisingly, on a swing.

In the first of three paintings she was a child, carefree and giggling. In the second, a young teenager, her face a storm of emotion. In the final one, she was a young adult, caught mid-leap flying off the swing she’d been sitting on for seemingly eighteen years. Her arms were painted halfway to transitioning to a bird’s wings. She was no longer looking back at the viewer but forward, to all that life had to offer.

Annabelle wondered what people would say about Julian’s version of her.

People liked to fantasise about how amazing being a teenager was when they were an adult, but she hadn’t met anyone who fantasied about turning thirty. It wasn’t nearly as glamorous.

She hoped he made her glamorous.

“Of course,” he was continuing, “with the date so near, we might need a few more sessions to get finished on time.”

She looked over at him again, then, even if she wasn’t supposed to be moving.

The golden light danced across his handsome features, and caught the edges of the canvases behind him. There were twenty nine of them waiting.

“I make a pretty good lasagne,” he said, biting his lip. “If I say so myself. Compensation. If you don’t mind finishing late. There’s also a nice wine I got for Christmas that I really couldn’t drink alone.”

“I don’t mind,” she heard herself saying, before she’d even thought about it. “I don’t mind at all.”

“It’s a good venue,” he said. “A really good venue. Everyone’s going to love you.”

With him, maybe, the window wouldn’t close.

***

“I’m done, except for the varnish.”

The words sent a bolt through her, stirring away the sleepy content that came with posing for an extended period of time. She felt seen. Now, though, she wanted to see. Finally.

It was the day before her thirtieth birthday, and Camille had a massive surprise party planned, that Annabelle was both pretending that she didn’t know about, and dreading like a punch to the gut.

It was sweet that Camille was doing it. But also, maybe, if she didn’t celebrate the date she could still, somehow, be in her twenties for another year. That was how it worked, right?

“You are?” She leapt off the stool, and felt her joints click. “Can I see? I feel like I should have a right to see before everyone else. I won’t tell anyone.”

“It is top secret.” He pretended to consider.

She took the opportunity to relish actually looking at him for once; there was a kiss of red on the cuff of his painting shirt that hadn’t yet dried. It was the exact colour of her lipstick. She smiled.

He really had left her mouth for last.

“Fine,” he said, and gestured her over, eyes bright with amusement. “But only because I know you won’t tell.”

In the short space of walking over, Annabelle had time to feel her stomach clench. Her old fears boiled nauseously to the surface.

What if it was awful?

What if it wasn’t what she wanted, as if that had ever been the point?

What if her immortality looked like the part-time waitress she didn’t want to be?

She would have to keep a straight face, and not hurt his feelings. He’d been working on it for so long. It would ruin everything if he knew she hated it. It would no doubt be technically very skilled. She should have researched painting techniques she could comment on.

She rounded the easel, a little dizzy.

His hand fell on the small of her back, thumb tracing the curve of her hip, idly almost.  

She stared.

Her painted self was lovely. So alive, as if thirty couldn’t possibly contain her.

It was not as realistic as ‘Girl On Swing’ though.

She was caught in the motion of talking, hands gesturing animatedly in the air despite her best efforts of posing, and though her face was turned towards the light of the window it was as clear as confession that her eyes were always turning towards him, trying to steal a glimpse.

She looked at him, at the viewer, like he was the best thing she had ever seen.

Camille would see the painting too.

She had already said that she had to come to the opening, especially ‘after all the time her girlfriend had spent with this Julian fellow instead of her.’

Annabelle swallowed.

The perfect bubble burst.

She released a shaky breath, abruptly more aware of his hand through the thin material of her dress.

They hadn’t done anything.

Even the night when she ended up staying over at his, after lasagne and wine, they hadn’t done anything.

The painting made it look like they had, though. She wasn’t even sure she could accuse Julian of exactly making it up, either.

He had painted the truth. Raw. Even when it would have been politer to hide it.

“Oh,” she said. “Wow. Um. Julian—”

“Happy Birthday,” he murmured. “For tomorrow.”

His hand moved up to the back of her neck and all of the colours of the painting swirled and rushed forward to meet her.

“Oh, and Annabelle?” His voice sounded very far away. “This is the bit where you stop talking.”

***

Annabelle had been thirty for nearly a month. Well, not exactly.

They all said that she looked amazing. So realistic.

She couldn’t move. She couldn’t feel her body. But, she could watch, from her frame.

She’d watched as Julian approached her with a paintbrush dipped in varnish – to seal the work – and she’d watched with her world turned sideways as they carried her canvas from the studio to the gallery.

She’d watched as they hung her up on the wall and made comments about her like she wasn’t there at all.

She’d screamed, too, or tried to. They hadn’t been able to hear her.

Julian had approached her again when they were alone, hands in his pockets, perfectly relaxed and pleased with himself.

“It’s a good trick, isn’t it? I’ve always had the knack of turning people into portraits.” He’d flashed her the same quick, reassuring smile he always did as he peered up at her. “As I said, it’s all about getting to know the person. Getting them to pour their soul out to you.”

He’d laughed, like he so often did, only this time it was at his own joke instead of hers. Or maybe she had always been the joke. 

“I did worry for a moment that I wouldn’t be finished in time. But, don’t worry. We made it. You’re twenty-nine forever! Just like you wanted. Just like I promised. I’m not that cruel.”

She’d wanted to tell him that this was not what she’d wanted. She wanted to ask a million questions. She wanted to punch him.

Instead, Annabelle watched as Camille stepped into the exhibition room, on opening night.

She watched Camille scan the crowd, feverishly, expecting her to be there.

She watched as Camille’s attention snagged on the vast painting of her across the room.

God, Camille.

Her girlfriend made a beeline over. It had been an age since Annabelle had last looked at her, properly looked at her, hadn’t it?

Camille’s face crumpled a little as she studied the portrait; a myriad of regret and fear and confusion. Hurt. Her eyes were red and swollen like she’d been crying. She raised one hand towards Annabelle’s life-sized face, as if to touch, but didn’t. Her fists curled at her sides instead.

Guilt twisted in Annabelle’s gut. Camille looked exactly like how one might when learning that their girlfriend had cheated on them.

She felt an absurd surge of hope, despite everything, that Camille might see her where no one other than Julian had. The portrait, for all of its intimacies, suggested a grand love affair. People didn’t vanish fairly from grand love affairs, they just didn’t! It was suspicious, right? He was the last person to see her. The proof was in the painting!

Camille stared at her for a moment longer, her jaw set with grim determination. Then she scrubbed a hand over her face. Her shoulders hunched against some unbearable, undefinable weight. Her dark hair was greasy with worry.

“I’ll find you,” Camille still whispered. “I swear, I’ll find you.”

Annabelle’s stomach sank.

“No, Camille—” Of course, the words didn't come out. Nothing did.

She’d had been such an idiot, hadn’t she?

She felt a fresh stab of longing for that surprise birthday party.

How long had they waited for her to arrive? Waited for her.

Had Camille reported her missing? There would be no body to find, no evidence. The painting, the wanting limited eyes she looked out of, felt like a mockery.

Maybe the life she had with Camille hadn’t been perfect, not by a long shot, but at least they’d been alive. At least they’d been real.

Camille began to turn away.

“Please.” Annabelle’s voice broke. “I’m so sorry. I’m here, please. Don’t leave me! Camille!”

More attendees bustled to claim prime spot in front of the painting, murmuring about how talented Julian was, speculating on if Annabelle was his lover. Camille flinched.

“It makes me feel,” one of gallery attendees said, “like I’m interrupting them in a private moment, you know? Of course, it’s so Julian that she’s not actually a nude—”

She couldn’t see Camille anymore.

She was never going to see Camille again, was she?

CAMILLE. CAMILLE. CAMILLE.

Annabelle screamed it with everything she had, every atom of her, with the absolute certainty that if her girlfriend walked out the gallery door that Annabelle would never escape the painting.

She would never get to say sorry, or kiss Camille, or tell her properly that nothing had happened or would ever have happened, despite what she may have let her foolish heart feel.

She’d just liked the way he looked at her.

She didn’t want to stop the clock.

She wanted her life back, to live.

The painting hit the floor of the exhibition with an almighty crash.

Everyone scattered back. Red wine spilled like a crime scene against the polished floor.

Camille whirled back around too, alone a few metres away, her eyes wide and startled.

Julian appeared, clutching a glass of champagne in one hand.

“Goddamn these hooks. Who set this up? It’s a hazard. Everyone alright?” He looked around at his adoring fans, and summoned up a rueful smile. “I should have just got eyes to follow you all around the room instead, huh?” He looked down at her, where she stared up, in the same narrow periphery vision he’d painted her with. “Really leaned into the photorealism.”

Past him, past his taunts, Camille looked between the two of them. Uncertain misery flashed across her features once more. She opened her mouth, as if to say something, before closing it.

Annabelle willed her painted self to move again too, to speak, to do anything. She willed Camille to question, to press, to not give up on them and on her. Not now.

“Camille!” Julian had caught sight of her too, and straightened. He gestured for one of the gallery employees to get Annabelle back into position. “I’m so glad you could make it! Is Annabelle not with you? She was so excited for the exhibition…”

“You haven’t seen her?” Camille’s voice broke. “I – I thought she’d be here, at least. With you.”

“With me?” Julian spoke mildly. Innocently. “No, no. I haven’t seen her. I thought she was with you. Is something wrong?” His tone gentled, as he walked towards Camille. “She mentioned you’d been having some problems…”

“No – it wasn’t like that – Camille—”

Crowds swarmed Annabelle’s painted self once more. She was lifted back on the wall, as if nothing had happened.

"Let me get you a drink," Julian said. "You can tell me everything."

She caught a glimpse of Julian's arm wrapped around Camille's waist. The way she leaned into him, looked up at him. His lips by her ear.

"Camille—"

By the time the room cleared, they were already gone.

[issatalk]

“Meu Amor”

pairing: inês bettencourt x oc

fluff

prompts:

inês is out playing with the portugal team and you surprise her

“meu amor, i miss you so much” inês said with a slight pout on the face, she was on her fiba europe tournament representing Portugal in Lithuania. she had been extremely excited all summer over that tournament and had been telling you on how she hoped she was picked so she could represent her country. “ i miss you too baby, so much, i wish i could be there with you” i said not lying in a single word, i truly missed my girl and being 30 hrs away from one another with a 7 hour time difference was heavy on both. “ i wish i could hug you and kiss you, i miss those big cheeks “ she said with a sly smile at the last phrase. i laughed the least i could because being sick in the summer sucks and not being to able to be with your girlfriend for something she loves also sucks but laughing and your throat hurting sucked even more.

“i’m finally on my last days of meds, i’m definetly feeling better! how was your game? how did you feel?” i said trying to get some words out of her “ well in all honestly we were pretty tense at first, i guess we were nervous but after a while we got the hang of eachother and did pretty well. i dedicated you a basket”

“oh yeah? which one?” i laughed know she just came up with that, whenever she plays she is always locked in and doesn’t think about anything but the game,but i let her keep talking. “the one where i did a right handed reverse layup” a big smile came out of her proud of her accomplishment on court. “well ok, if you say so” i was getting tired the time delay had me crazy and all i wanted was to be with my girl, she was doing some stuff around her hotel room “hey babe” i said “i’m going to sleep now, it’s late and you know i’ve got to get some rest” “ oh yeah of course, i love you, sleep well and get better please” i smiled hanging up the phone.

to her surprise she didn’t know i was lying, i was sick and did feel bad from time to time but i was on my way out of being sick and on my way to Lithuania. ever since she got the news on her secured placed for the team i knew i had to give her a big surprise, i told her that i wouldn’t be able to go and that i had to stay over summer for work and family, when really i had bought plane tickets and reserved my hotel to watch her in every single game. knowing how much this meant for her i knew she would love this. i was on my way to the airport and finally after a couple of layovers i was exhausted. in the process i had received messages from inês that she wanted to facetime but i had to make up excuses saying i was too tired and felt bad. i actually felt kind of bad for lying to her but i knew it would be so worth it. a whole day without hearing her voice i was exhausted from all the traveling.

as i took a taxi to take me to my hotel i swear i was going to faint, how do people deal with this it’s just too much. arrived at the hotel checked in and had my room ready, i ran like a little kid as fast as i could to my room, key in hand i opened the door and as soon as i was inside i plugged my phone and fell asleep hard.

i woke up to my ringtone and checked the screen, inês was calling “ shit” i said to myself, what would i say to her? she will notice the background being unusual, maybe i will just tell her i am out somewhere, yeah let’s say that. with my hair in a big mess and the darkest eyes bags in the world i ran to the bathroom coating my face with cold water to wake up,knowing she might get upset if i don’t respond since it’s been almost two days of my traveling, then i hear the ringing stop but a bunch of notifications sounds came up. oh was she worried now. “shit, ughhh” this surprise was going heaviness than expected.

i read her messages and they went something alike ‘are you feeling better?, goodnight love you, we won!!, goodmorning to the most beautiful girl!, are you okay baby?, are you okay? in worried you haven’t been answering’ and in all honestly i was so tired i lacked mobile service the whole trip and all of the wifi sucked so i most definitely had not been notified of her messages through the whole trip. i now feeling bad for everything called her. “inês hello baby” i tried to say as cheerful as i could with all the little energies i had, i put on a big smile for my girl. “ meu amor, você me deixou preocupado” she said quickly definitely as she said worried. “ oh no, don’t worry i am ok it’s just been really long couple of days and you know they are heavy” “ oh, i’m glad you are okay, i was so worried, how are you feeling now ? do i finally have a healthy girlfriend to kiss when i get back home?” i laughed out loud “yes i am officially well of health” yeah right ms.big eye bags “i’m so glad” “ i’ve been seeing your games! but how do you feel?you have been doing amazing bringing the team good points and amazing assistance as always”i commented changing the topic so she didn’t notice and would concentrate on something else,”the girls have been good” and she went on ranting about everything going on. god i cant wait to kiss her again she’s so beautiful and i’m only watching on a screen cannot wait to see her in real life.

the morning went on as our talk was cut short because she had a game later in the evening so she had to warmup and all that. i took my opportunity to shower, get ready, did my make up and dressed cute in her UConn jersey. took a taxi to the stadium and i was so nervous to surprise her, thankfully i had reached out to one of her closest friends from the team and was getting updates from everything going on. she and i had been communicating and she was the only one who knew i would be surprising her and helped me get everything set up. heading to the stadium and arriving i made sure to text anya that i was here and also sent a good luck text to inês like always just so she didn’t start suspecting anything. i sat in the public section and hoped she didn’t see me till the end.

as the game went on portugal was a couple points down but they still had 5 minutes in the fourth quarter. inês was in the game, as you cheered from the bleachers still not spotted by your girlfriend, you kept screaming and cheering for the team. they were catching up and were only five points apart and in that moments inês had just banked a three and as loud cheers came from your mouth , celebrating that your girl had been closing the game up. her teammates kept playing a to a near lever of the actual floor and as inês and the team were going into the hall to go to their locker rooms, anya had spotted you and told you exactly at what time the team would go to the bus so that you could come out of it before everyone went in.

you followed her instructions clearly, as you were now on the bus that would take them to the same hotel you were staying in. a few minutes passed and you were talking to the driver about stupid and common things, you received a notification “ babe! we won!!” a text from inês came in, along with a bunch of smiley face emojis. in that exact moment you also received a text from anya saying they were on their way, which made cut the conversation with the driver as she closed the doors so you could surprise your girl.

as you saw them walk out of the building all in their uniforms with their sweats and full of bags you knew this was the time. they kept approaching the bus and as soon as the doors were opening you waited until someone stepped in , anya. as soon as she was in she told you that everyone in the team knew and that it’s for to go out, those words fell out of her mouth which made me run out of the bus. i went down the steps and every turned to look at me while my girlfriend was looking at something in her bag, a teammate poked her arm, then she turned and looked up.

she stayed still, but a big smile started to form on her mouth, she ran as quick as she could dropping everything and went straight to hugging you. the hug was so full and felt so comfortable, finally being back into my girlfriends arms. we separated and her questions came right up “meu amor,what are you doing here omg” she looked at me in shock, inspecting my face to look out for any answer “i though you were in connecticut, i can’t believe you are here”. “surpriseee” i said with a big smile, she hugged me again and gave me a small peck.

while the team was on their way to the hotel on the bus i had to call a taxi once again. as soon as my ride arrived at the hotel, inês was waiting for me at the entrance. “let me hold this bag for you pretty lady” she said in an exaggerated deep voice, i only laughed as we started talking. arriving in my room now ours, i went ahead and explained her my whole plan” i know how important this is for you and i wnat to make it known that i’m willing to be there for you always” i told her, my words full of sincerity “meu amor, i love you, thank you for this”

[hamlets-ak]

ice cream hunt ༊*·˚

m.list ◦ askbox

synopsis: on a hot summer afternoon reader and timmy go for an ice cream hunt in nyc

It was a warm smokey summer afternoon. New York was an oven. The day; Thursday, the most boring day of the week.

Windows and balcony doors opened wide, let the last sun rays swim inside your apartment alongside a small breeze that made the curtains fly and then linger on the floor. There was music from your neighbor's house concealed by the loud tireless honking of cars down the street.

You and Timothée were laying on the couch, only wearing the sunlight, half-asleep, half-awake, watching mind-numbing sprit-crushing TV shows. He held your feet on his lap as his head fell back melancholically, breaths escaping his pouty lips.

« Tim are you sleeping? », you asked. He mumbled something in response and then turned his head in your direction, face red, sweat holding onto the skin under his eyes.

« It’s so hot, » he told you. You smiled.

« You know what I want? », you asked.

« No. » You lightly tilted your head, the smile gradually growing until it reached your ears. Timothée groaned pulling his hair back and holding it out of his face already knowing what you wanted to tell him. « Baby, it’s so hot... »

« Come on! Let’s go out for a walk. »

« Someone literally got a heat stroke the other day- », Tim said. You rolled your eyes.

« You are just being lazy, » you murmured throwing your head back dramatically.

« I’m not being lazy. It’s just too hot outside. »

« We can go for a walk and get some ice cream. »

« Ice cream would be nice, » he mumbled.

« Then let’s go get it! », you said sitting better, your back leaning on the couch. Timothée just looked at you as you took your feet off him and stood up. « Come on, get dressed, » you motioned your hand to him.

« I’m so tired, I can’t even get up, » he told you, eyes following all your moves. You threw a t-shirt on top of his face.

« How can you be tired? We’ve been watching that crap all day. »

« Look, » he uncovered his face. « If you manage to pull me up from the couch, we’ll go get ice cream. » Your stare stayed at him for a few seconds and then you smiled.

« Your laziness is next level, » a chuckle escaped your lips. He beamed at you. « You want me to get you dressed too? »

« Yes, please. »

« Timothée get up, » you said putting on your t-shirt.

« Ah, help me, » he tented his arms forward.

« Lazy! »

« What do you mean? That’s my charm, » he smiled.

You walked closer to him and he tied his arms around your hips pulling you closer until his cheek touched your belly. You pulled his wild hair back and leaned to kiss his forehead.

« You are a lazybones but I still love you, » you lowered your gaze at him. He looked up at you with a grin that made his eyes squint and his nose wrinkle. Timothée nodded letting you take his curls back. « Come on, » you took his hands on yours, and before letting a wet kiss on the back of his palm, you pulled him up.

« You really want ice cream, huh? », he laughed wrapping his arm around your shoulder and giving you a peck on the lips.

« Ah, you are sweaty! » You lightly pushed his chest. He grinned as he picked up his t-shirt and put it on.

« Got the keys? », he asked once you got ready.

« Got ‘em. »

Wind rushed past you with razor teeth, hot like the breath of a dragon. You strolled down the street, two flames under the starless purple sky, dark and bright, streetlights following your steps. Timothée held your hand while crossing the road and he insisted on staying on the outside of the pavement, making your walk seem like an adventure.

You asked him if he remembered what was your favorite ice cream flavor and he just rolled his eyes as if you asked him his name. You laughed about nothing special while wandering around the city, watching the colors change above your heads until the sky turned into a blue shade like the deepest part of the ocean, and you finally reached the ice cream parlor.

« What will you get? », you asked.

« What I am always getting, » Timothée said and then furrowed his eyebrows wearing his playful smile. « You remember or... »

« Or... », you shook your head questionably. « I’ll just get you whatever I want. »

« Sounds good, » he nodded, curls bouncing up and down. You smiled as your hand fumbled on his hair and pulled it behind his ears.

You left him chuckling to himself while you walked closer to the counter. His eyes followed your every move and stayed on you even when you looked away. You turned back to him, eyebrows furrowed, and shook your head watching the way he was staring at you with his sweet smile and red cheeks. Timothée shrugged imitating your move.

« Here you go, » you gave him his cone but quickly pulled it back to take a quick bite. He pressed his lips together looking at you for a few seconds before bringing your arm up and taking out his tongue to lick your cone. You burst into laughter at the way his nose was covered in ice cream too.

« Dummy, » you smiled cleaning his nose with your paper towel.

« Yours is better, » he said. « Wanna change? »

You slid your hand around his arm as you made your way back home slowly with steady steps and different cones, following the sidewalk.

[damiansgoodgirll]

I really need reader comforting jey uso after what happened at summer slam please 😭💖

i wanna hug him and tell him that we are so proud of him and that he’s not alone 😩😩😩

jey uso x reader

proud of you

you didn’t see it coming.

no one saw it coming.

it was going to be a not so simple and easy match but it was supposed to be a normal match.

jey fighting roman.

and it turned out to be jey fighting roman, solo and jimmy. you knew solo was going to interfere and jey knew it too and he was ready for that possibility but he never expected his own brother, his own twin to turn his back on him.

you were watching the match behind the scenes and everyone, you and your friends and his colleagues were rooting for him.

but you all couldn’t contain the gasps and the shock when you saw jimmy taking jey’s body away from roman.

it wasn’t right. it wasn’t fair.

“what the fuck is he doing…” you whispered. you knew nothing about that and jey was as confused as you all were.

and so the match continue but you saw how tired jey was and how disappointed he was. so roman won, again.

you couldn’t stand the idea of seeing roman with the titles once again. someone needed to beat his ass but you knew he wasn’t going to defend his titles on easy matches like smackdown, he wanted something big, a large and loud crowd and you knew that if something was going to happen, it was going to happen at wrestlemania, next year and you were losing all your patience.

you knew jey deserve to be champion and everyone agreed with you. you couldn’t believe that roman was still the champion, but again, he can’t win a match without getting help.

and now he was alone.

no roman, no solo and no jimmy.

jey was heartbroken, when he came back into the backstage. he wanted the title and he wanted to prove everyone that he was deserving of that and he knew, the moment the match ended that he it was all over, the possibility to prove himself, the chance of getting the same appreciation roman got, it was all over.

“hey baby…” you whispered, walking slowly toward him.

he didn’t say a word. he didn’t need to say anything. he just lost himself in your embrace the moment you opened your arms.

that’s all he needed.

“i’m so proud of you baby…” you hugged him tight and he held you close to his chest.

“i lost…” he whispered “i lost…”

“but you did so great baby” you looked into his eyes “everyone was cheering for you, you did an amazing job”

“but i lost…” he whispered again.

“it wasn’t a fair match…jey it was you against three people, you did your best and everyone saw that” you wiped a tear that rolled out of his eye.

“jimmy…i can’t - i don’t know that to say” jey was as shocked as everyone was.

“no one saw that coming…” you said “everyone was shocked as you were…no one would have expected to jimmy turn on you…”

“i really wanted to prove myself - i really wanted the title, and everyone to be proud of me…” he said honestly.

“everyone is proud of you jey…it wasn’t a fair match and you know it, three against one? you should have won and you know that, but unfortunately it didn’t go as planned…that doesn’t mean you’re less, you’re amazing and i love you so much, you’re an amazing wrestler, i know that, you know that and your fans know that too…i’m so proud of you jey, i am” you said, your eyes never leaving his bigger ones.

he looked at you completely speechless, no words could explain what he was feeling in that moment but it was glad he had someone like you that was able to keep him grounded.

“thank you…for being by my side, always” was the only thing he said. words couldn’t explain how much he loved you and how thankful he was for your support.

“always, i’ll always stand by your side jey…” you softly smiled at him and closed your eyes when you saw him leaning his lips towards yours. it was a soft kiss, almost like a “thank you”.

you knew it was going to be hard for him, but no matter what you knew you would never leave his side and that he could always count on you.

[msjarvis]

It's my first day of summer holidays. The last month has been intense, difficult and extremely tiring work-wise. So tiring that I've had a hard time maintaining social contact and keeping track of what was really going on around me in real life, let alone online. Of course, I knew about that blog. 😒 I knew about the negativity and the lies. How some of you have decided to leave or have been forced to change accounts to defend yourself. I've blocked and reported that blog and any negativity I've encountered whenever I've managed to log on into this hellsite.

But only today, having more time on my hands and reading some of your testimonies, I am realizing what some of you have really been through… and my heart goes out to you once again. 😢

I am sorry that you had to suffer this attack. I am sorry that some little, miserable individuals questioned you and undermined your mental wellbeing. I am sorry that you had to suffer harassment and that you did not feel safe. I am sorry that a platform that prides itself on being inclusive allows such attacks and does not give the possibility to really and concretely defend oneself. (I’m looking at you @staff 😒😒😒)

I have already reached some of you (the ones with whom I have a little more “familiarity”) via dm but I want to reiterate, to those I have already reached and to everyone really that....

❤️ YOU ARE VALUED. YOU ARE APPRECIATED. YOU ARE LOVED. YOU ARE AMAZING. YOU ARE SO BRAVE. YOU KICK ASS. ❤️

You are all heroes in my eyes. I’m sorry I wasn’t completely aware of the extent of the shitstorm and most certainly my contribution to fight it was not enough… but please know that I am and always will be in your corner, supporting you, ready to encourage you and reiterate how important and vital you and your light are.

And I know that certain events unfortunately (alas rightly) undermine the level of trust, but if anyone ever needs it, my inbox is always open. 🫂

Much love to you all… ✨💖✨

Ps: I am aware that this message of mine will be read by few. I am nothing in the community and that's fine. The goal of this message is to leave a glimmer of light for those who need it in the hope that positive energy reaches everyone... ❤️ Even those who, in order to protect their own well-being (which is the most important thing), decided to leave. Spread love and positivity always! ✨✨✨✨

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfics - Penpals

Words: 792

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

21st August

Moony,

Please tell me you’re still coming this weekend. Evans actually replied to one of James’ (many) letters, and not just to tell him to fuck off, and he is being unbearable. If I have to hear one more sentence that starts “She said” I might just unforgivable myself. Please put me out of my misery, I’ve been helping Effie cook just to get away from the lovesick prick. Note that I can cook now. I’ll show you this weekend, I asked her to teach me how to make Samosas and they’re surprisingly easy. So I can make you samosas now! Hope the moon wasn’t too bad, wish we could have been there.

Padfoot

✨✨✨✨

21st August

Pads,

I’ll be there Friday night, I promise.

To be fair to James, it’s a pretty big deal for him. But rest assured I’ll tell him to shut up if you need me to. Lily didn’t tell me that she replied to him, so now I need to fire off a letter to her and ask her if she sustained a head injury. Please don’t off yourself, I don’t want to spend the week with lovesick Prongs on my own.

Samosas! For me? I’m glad James’ arseholery has resulted in something good at least. I will never tire of Effie’s Samosas, so the bar is high! I hope you’re practicing ready for the weekend, I expect to be wowed.

The moon wasn’t great. I have two ugly new scars on my jaw/cheek, just to prepare you for the weekend.

The wolf misses his friends, and I miss mine.

Moony

🌙🌙🌙🌙

21st August

Dear Lily,

I have received news that you sent a letter to James, and I was so concerned that I had to write to you immediately. Are you alright? Were you injured? How bad was the head injury? Do they think you’ll ever gain back full brain function?

But seriously, what the fuck? He won’t shut up about it and he’s driving Sirius mad. I’m spending the week with them and if he’s as insufferable as Sirius claims, I will be blaming you.

Hope you’re enjoying France.

Also, I told you so.

Remus

🌺🌺🌺🌺

22nd August

Moons,

Sorry the moon was shit. We’ll be back at school by the next one and it’ll be better. Also, I won’t tell you again, your scars aren’t ugly. They’re cool and rugged, and make you look distinguished and mysterious. I will hear no arguments on this subject, thank you. I also meant to ask how many books you’ve read this summer. I think you’ll be incredibly proud that I have read seven whole books in the last month. One of them was mostly pictures, but I think it still counts. I’m agonised that your only issue with my death is that you’ll have to cope with Prongs’ pining alone. Do I truly mean so little to you, Remus? I fear I shall never recover from this slight.

Yours,

Pads

PS: I made another batch of samosas and honestly, you’re going to swoon when you taste them. They’re so good. Effie seems to love bonding with me over a hot stove, and it’s very sweet. I love living here so much. I try not to think about what I’d be doing if I wasn’t here, but sometimes the comparison is helpful. Well, that got sappy. My next letter will only be discussing Quidditch and boobs to make up for it. Counting down the hours til Friday.

✨✨✨✨

23rd August

Pads,

Not long to go now. Can’t wait to see you later, and for samosas.

Seven books? Wow. That’s impressive! I’m a few ahead of that, but I’ve literally had nothing to do but read since July. Moony and Padfoot book club, when?

Can you believe it’s been over a month since I saw you? Maybe you’ve finally had that growth spurt you’ve been hoping for. My mum seems to think I’ve grown, but she always says that.

It wasn’t enough for me to tell you not to top yourself in general? Do you need me to tell you how much I’d miss you creeping into my bed at 3 am and hogging the blankets? Or how sad it would make me to not have to share every cup of tea I make? Weirdly, I would actually miss that, to be fair, so please be alive when I get there.

If I wanted to hear about Quidditch and boobs, I’d write to Prongs. Please spare me. I’ll probably be with you before it arrives, so there’s little point. I might send this right before I floo so you don’t get chance to reply. If so, hi, I’m already here!

Looking forward to swooning over you! your samosas!

Your

Moony

🌙🌙🌙🌙

[ninapi]

Glitched

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●

Premise: Rintarou unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams through an online game and he does his best to find this mysterious girl in the real world and keep her for good.

Word Count: 3289

Note: Hello, my beautiful dumplings. Welcome to my Suna miniseries, huhuhu. This will be a short story (4 chapters lol sorry, that’s my definition of short 🙃 sometimes I wonder how people write complete stories under 800 words, I just cant-), while I prepare for my new big series. Some high school drama, no multiple endings or routes just one~ Smooches for all of you.

Warning: Mild spoilers, if you’re up to date with the anime you’ll be just fine.

Chapter 1: Not so bad.

Suna Rintarou was by no means enjoying his second year of high school. Summer weather was definitely not his favorite, always tough on him, but the agony was even worse this year. He was tired, not just physically but mentally, the toll of dealing not only with his own sense of failure but also his teammates who were gravely disappointed of not being able to give their captain the satisfaction of going to the finals and bring victory to their school in his last year on the team.

It hasn’t been long since Inarizaki lost to Karasuno, which meant the practice schedule has increased not only in frequency but also in intensity. Days were very long and every single muscle in Suna’s body hurt. He was really looking forward to the holiday weekend, meaning he would have an extra day to rest.

His classmates were raving about this new online game that had recently come out and was very popular. They had plans to play together during the weekend and advance into one of the heaviest of dungeons before classes resumed, but their plan came to a sudden stop, the twins were being dragged by their mother into a family wedding across the country and they wouldn’t be able to join the team.

The boys were devastated, whining men heard all over the class. They were really counting on the Miya power to beat the hell out of the dungeon boss, help was needed desperately.

¨Hey Suna, I know you said you didn’t like the gameplay you watched the other day but can you please join our team? Without Osamu in our side we are doomed.¨ Suna heaved a deep sigh, collapsing on top of his desk. ¨Am I your last option? Can’t you find someone who really wants to play this? I’m so tired, I was planning on staying in bed all weekend.¨ Osamu pulled him back up, giving him a stern look, ¨Come on, help your mates. I wish I could stay and beat them up but there’s nothing we can do about it, it’s just for this weekend, we’ll be back for the next and continue where you left off.¨ he really didn’t want to do this, but if he didn’t agree to it they wouldn’t shut up until he did, ¨Fine, text me the link. I’ll be there after dinner.¨ the boys were smothering him with hugs and trying to kiss off his face in joy, making him grimace as he shook them all off and went back to sleep on his very comfy desk. The thought of finally resting this weekend turning into nothing but a sad memory.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

The guys added him to a group chat and everything was ready for the first quest. 

His sister tied his hair up at the front in a tiny ponytail so he would look like some of those cute game-streamers she watches, not caring if her brother needed it or not with his hairstyle. He was beyond annoyed with life in general, why do people not leave him alone, even his sister was now conspiring to destroy his peaceful long holiday weekend, ¨Curse those damn twins. It’s all their fault.¨ he was grumbling under his breath while putting his headset on and going in the game to create his character.

¨Alright guys, let’s go level up first, stay in this area and let’s meet up at the bottom of the hill when you reach level 20, then we’ll move in to the forest.¨ they all hummed in acknowledgement, breaking the group. Suna went off to chase some slimes and smaller monsters, hating his life every second of it, the game had a very cute looking art style and it was just not his jam at all. He found it hilarious though that the toughest guys in his class were all hunting cute rabbits and crying over it out loud and in their shared group chat space, so he made sure to screenshot some of those moments, posting them in his account and tagging all his playmates. He had to get something out of this torture, at least he could make fun of them for a while.

His character stopped moving and it turned into a pixel block, ¨Guys, is the game acting up or is it just mine?¨ he could only hear static coming through his headset and some of the guys were posting on the chat that the game kicked them out and they were rebooting their pc, so he just stayed there waiting for the rest to go back in. His character was still a bit glitchy but it was moving now. Then all of the sudden he heard a very loud screech pressed to his left ear, and he was positive that it was not human. ¨Oh my god, sausage! What are you doing to my poor headset? Leave it alone!!¨ saying he was confused was an understatement, all the players in his team were dudes, ¨Ehm, hi?¨ the line went quiet but he wasn’t hearing any more static, just some shuffling on the other side, ¨Who’s this?¨ you were sitting on your chair now, the fluff ball being kicked out of your room for good. ¨Uhm, Rintarou? How about you? Did the guys call you over? I didn’t hear anything about any girl joining our party.¨ Rintarou? What- you were just chatting with your girlfriends when your cat jumped on you and stole your headset, there was no Rintarou in that group, ¨I'm (Y/N). Are you Miyuki’s boyfriend?¨ Miyuki? Was there a Miyuki in his class? It was possible, not like he knows everybody but this was all so confusing, ¨Nope, definitely not that Rintarou. So you are not with the guys either? How did you get into the group? The game didn’t say someone new joined the party.¨ 

You were so confused, you could see your actual party on the screen and on the side chat but you couldn’t hear them talk, just this random guy, ¨Did your game get glitchy too? Maybe that’s how you ended up in my party.¨ he moved his character around, looking for you, but he was completely alone in the area, some of the guys still complaining about the game not letting them in through his phone. ¨Well, I mean yes. It did get glitchy but I can still see my girls playing on my screen, could it be just the audio that got crossed over somehow?¨ it was so weird, none of the girls even noticed your absence, you said you were having some troubles with your headset and so they just continued killing monsters, ¨Yeah, I don’t see you around me either, so I guess it’s just the audio getting messy. Hold on, Imma log out and see if that resets us back to normal.¨ you nodded even if he couldn’t see you. ¨Ugh, what the hell. The logout button is gone. How about you, do you see it?¨ you were checking everywhere in your screen, it was definitely not where it usually is, ¨It’s gone for me too. I bet it’s just still glitchy and will go back to normal in a bit, if it’s fine with you, we could just keep playing like this until the game fixes itself?¨ he was already back to killing slimes, way over level 20 by now and his classmates were still gone, ¨Yeah, fine with me.¨ 

Both of you continued doing your thing in complete silence, so much so that Suna forgot you were still there and started mumbling curses quietly, he was being targeted by larger monsters now and was still on his own, he didn’t know much about this game and he was loosing HP fast, ¨What’s wrong?¨ your soft voice startled him, his ears flushing bright red in embarrassment, ¨Sorry, I forgot you were still there. Just being attacked by inferno wolves, don’t know how to kill them, today is my first day playing this.¨ you chuckled quietly, he was kindda cute, those were very easy to kill lesser monsters, ¨Just jump on them and stomp hard.¨ he did as instructed, killing one instantly, ¨Oh wow that was easy, thanks. Are you like a guild master or something?¨ that made you smile, you were right, he was cute. ¨Nothing of the sort, just been playing this for longer. Let me know if you need more help, I know my fair share of tricks.¨ 

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

He was about to just ‘x’ out the game since the logout button was still gone, it was 9:30 and none of the guys were able to log back in, the game refusing to accept them, it was a waste of time, he didn’t even want to play this ridiculous game, the happy tune coming out of it was driving him insane at this point, that was until he heard your quiet giggles, it made him curious. They started soft, he almost thought he’d imagined it, but they grew louder each second and without realizing it, he was smiling, ¨What is it?¨ he wasn’t going to say anything but he just needed to know what was causing the cute fit of giggles on the other side, or he wasn’t going to be able to sleep in peace. ¨You heard that? Oh no, so embarrassing. Sorry, my cat, he is crazy you see. Earlier he was chewing on my headset so I kicked him out, but he got out of the house and got back into my room climbing all the way to the window, he’s like a ninja! And was nuzzling my tummy just now, I’m very ticklish.¨ was it normal for such a story to be this cute? Since when does he find cat ninjas cute? Why does he feel the need to tickle an unknown woman-

¨Was that sausage?¨ he chuckled evilly, wanting to continue the conversation, ¨Oh GOD, you heard that too? This game is like boycotting my life, I’m telling you. But yes, that’s sausage. He’s very heavy and of a brownish tone so he kindda looks like one, that’s why we named him that.¨ it’s not like he was interested in cats, but this was way better than killing blue pixel blobs, ¨It’s kay, I find names like that fun, I really don’t like when people name their pets, I don’t know Steve or something,¨ that caused you to laugh loud and clear, getting stabbed by a monster in the process, which made you just laugh even more, ¨Steve? What? Who would name their cat Steve?¨ you let your character bleed to death and were now hugging one of your pillows while sipping on some juice you had left, getting comfy on your chair. ¨Believe it or not, I’ve seen things, specially since I got in my current school volleyball team, there you see crazy, crazy stuff.¨ so he played volleyball…you’re nowhere near athletic but damn, he sounded like an interesting individual. The night was nothing like what you expected it to be, it was getting better every second.

Time surely flies when you’re actually having fun. He got some fruit jelly out and was chewing on it while speaking, needing some extra sugar to stay awake longer, ¨Are you eating fruit jelly?¨ he sits up right away, making sure his cam was actually off, ¨How do you know? Is this game livestreaming now or-?¨ you wished, ¨Hahaha no, it’s just that they make this sound, you know what I mean? Like when you suck the jelly out? I know I’m weird, I’m so sorry.¨ was he making sucking sounds just now? Why was he blushing? He didn’t know his favorite snack made suggestive sounds, well, that was embarrassing, he didn’t do that on purpose, ¨Ugh, well yeah you got me there, I’m eating fruit jelly. But I don’t think you’re that weird. Just a bit.¨ now you were the one blushing, it was fun talking to him, you've been talking about everything and nothing in particular at the same time for the last couple of hours and it was nearly midnight now. ¨Hey, is your game still glitchy? My chara is like dead now but still let’s me talk to you, I think there’s something really wrong with this game today.¨ his character was sitting down on a daisy field, enjoying his life as much as his owner, no monsters in sight, but the logout button was still not available, ¨Yeah, well I’m not dead, but things look the same, my mates were also complaining because the game kicked them out and didn’t let them back in.¨ he actually lied to his classmates and told them he was going to bed like twenty minutes ago but he just wasn’t capable of telling you how tired he actually was, ¨Hm, yeah I don’t think it’s going to let us sign out tonight, should we leave it open and just go to bed? It’s getting late and even if there’s no school tomorrow we should probably get going.¨ so you were in school too, your voice sounded right about his age but he didn’t know how to ask without sounding like a creepy old man, ¨Yeah I was thinking of going to bed too but sausage wouldn’t let us go.¨ us, huh? you smiled bashfully, playing with the headset cord, ¨Sausage is like that, I think he likes to hear your voice.¨ oh boy, was he smitten, he didn’t know much about you or what you looked like even but he wanted more of this, whatever that was, ¨Well then that means we gotta keep talking so he can hear it some more, maybe then he won’t eat your headset.¨ he could hear your giggles once more, they were creating a hole in his stomach, pretty sure it was eating itself out at your cuteness, he just wanted to continue hearing them, people never laughs at his comments, this was a first you actually thought he was funny, ¨We should. Do you think if we just don’t close the game it would stay like this? I mean like the audio and all…? Maybe we could talk some more tomorrow.¨ were you asking him on a date? That was a date, definitely. ¨Yeah I can do that, anything for sausage’s sake.¨ you were both grinning at the screen like idiots, not wanting to leave, ¨Then, since it’s the weekend how about we come back in the morning? Oh wait no, here in Miyagi the holidays are important, I gotta go to the shrine early, but how about after lunch?¨ he was so tired that even getting up by lunch time seemed like a task, but he would gladly lose sleep for this, ¨Yup, can do. See you tomorrow, sausage girl.¨ both of you left the pc on and went to bed, the smile on both of your faces causing your cheeks to hurt. 

He was cute, you’ve never had so much fun talking with a guy before, it all felt so natural like if you were talking with your best friend, like if you’ve known him since forever. You wondered if asking for his number would be too bold, he was funny and you just wanted to talk to him some more, maybe even meet him one day. Just thinking about it was making you feel giddy, your legs kicking on your bed as you squealed against your pillow, trying your best to quiet down your excitement and not wake your mother up.

Suna was on his bed thinking the very same thing, would it be weird to ask for your number? You were complete strangers, but that’s how people make friends, right? Not weird at all. He rarely had intentions of talking with any girl but talking to you tonight has been the highlight of his year and he wasn’t exaggerating. He didn’t even know he could laugh this much, Suna just couldn’t wait anymore, he was sure he wanted this to continue and with new resolution, he went to sleep, hoping noon would come fast, so he could ask for your number and maybe, hopefully, get to see you even if it was just through his phone, he just needed to put a face to this bubbly feeling inside his chest.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

When he woke up the following morning he noticed his pc was off, this causing him to go into panic mode, what happened? He made sure it would stay on all night-

¨MOOOOM, why is my pc off? Did you touch it?¨ he was pissed, anything but that, not the pc. ¨What? No I didn’t. I think we lost power for a bit earlier, your dad was trying to fix the oven and was messing with the power box.¨ that explains it but it wasn’t less aggravating, would he even be able to go in the game again or would he be kicked out like his mates.

He turned it back on as fast as he could, going in the game, but luck wasn’t on his side, two of his classmates were already in leveling up on his screen. He grabbed his headset and literally screamed on the mic, ¨(Y/N), please tell me you are there.¨ but he could hear very manly snorts on the other side, crushing his heart ¨Who’s (Y/N)? Your girlfriend, Suna?¨ he just couldn’t deal with them right now. He rebooted his pc in hopes of getting the line back up to yours, but when he did, he saw a notification pop up on his screen, ¨We apologize for all the troubles caused last night, as an apology, we’ve sent 100 diamonds and 2 HP refills into your inbox.¨ 

No, this couldn’t be happening. They fixed it overnight. He hadn’t ask you for your number yet, that’s what he was going to do as soon as he heard your beautiful voice.

You were fixing your make up, silly thing to do since he couldn’t even see you, but it was definitely a date. You got your headset on with a bright smile on your face as you saw your screen moving, the game still playing on the background, ¨Morning, Mr. Sausage. Got a nice sleep?¨ your friends were beyond shocked, ¨Mr.Sausage? (Y/N) are you talking to your cat again? I think you need to go out some more.¨ Miyuki? No, no, no, no, why??? Where was he? What happened? You didn’t turn the game off, he should still be there! ¨Yeah…did they fix the game? I can hear you guys just fine now.¨ you were seriously hoping he was just late and would jump in the conversation any second now, ¨Mhm, they gave us some dias, check your inbox. You can buy the sword you wanted with that!¨ Stupid sword, you didn’t want it anymore, not if that meant not being able to talk to him again. ¨Sorry guys, I…I’m login out for the day.¨ without another word you just closed your laptop and collapsed face first onto your bed, life sucked.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☾ . :☆ﾟ.･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.･

Tuesday couldn’t come faster for Suna, he just ran over to the class next door almost clashing with the wall, ¨ATSUMU! I need your help.¨ the eldest twin glared at him with intensity, couldn’t he see what time was it? Why would someone ask for a favor so early in the morning ? He was barely awake after getting up at four to jog. ¨Tell me later, maybe during lunch break when I can actually listen to you.¨

He threw his bag on the floor and went over to the tired setter, shaking him lightly, ¨Please, only you can help me.¨ what could be this important? He looked over at the middle blocker giving him a dirty angry look, but he was sporting a not so fashionable pair of bags under his eyes, even his skin tone was a bit off, was he not supposed to rest for three days? This made him reconsider his actions, ¨What is it? Stop shaking me, dammit!¨ he sat down on the chair in front of his desk, serious mode on, ¨You have the phone number of the Karasuno setter right?¨ huh? this was definitely not worth the while, he went back to sleep on his desk, ¨Atsumu please! I need you to ask him something, please I’ll beg if you want me to.¨ he’s never seen him this desperate, ¨kay, I think I do, yeah he should be on the group chat. What do you need from him?¨ he was pulling out his phone, ready to rely the message and hopefully go back to sleep, ¨Can you ask him if he knows a girl named (Y/N)¨ a girl? This was unexpectedly interesting. ¨(Y/N) what? Is she from Karasuno?¨ he was punching the message out, waiting on the details, ¨Well I don’t know, all I know is her first name and that she lives in Miyagi, she goes to school there and is possibly around our age.¨ Atsumu couldn’t believe what he was hearing, talk about dumb teammates, ¨You do know Miyagi is a prefecture, right? Not a city. How many schools are there even in Miyagi? Why would Tobio-kun know her? You are being stupid, Suna.¨ he was deleting the message, shaking his head, ¨No, no, please just ask him. I know he probably won’t know her but is my only chance, please. I won’t bother you again if he says he doesn’t know…¨ the setter sighed, sending the ambiguous message out, this was really silly, but he could see how desperate his friend was, and he just wouldn’t let him sleep ever if he didn’t comply. 

To their surprise, Kageyama replied almost immediately, ¨I don’t, but I’ll ask around.¨ Atsumu showed him his screen and the small smile that painted his features left the setter breathless, so he can smile-

¨Thanks, please let me know if he says anything else.¨ he would find you, no matter what.

○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●●○●○●○●○●

Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf

Masterlist Next Chapter

[cloama]

I just heard Coco Jones’ new track, Here We Go(Uh Oh), a song definitely for the girls who still aren’t ready to go No Contact with their on again/off again ex. It’s something relatable for the twenty-somethings to screamiing along to in the car as they drive to afters. I did. It relate but I will tell you why that doesn’t matter. Because R&B. Storytelling is back, baby! Paint us picture, Miss Coco.

I really enjoyed the cinematic music video that accompanies the song. She’s going all in on the back half 20th century nostalgia here, with a little bit of everything. The cover art is cute 70s nod. No clue if that’s going to impact the entire album rollout but I’m sat, regardless. Having a retro aesthetic while singing about likes and posts is so anachronistically pleasing to me. She’s such a star and I really like this choice for a single. This track is going to get spins because it is so relatable to so many. Coco is going right up there with SZA and Summer Walker who are actual titans of Female Singer-Songwriters but don’t get the credit they deserve despite the numbers numbering. That is because they’re R&B artists and I encourage you all to go back to listen to them if you haven’t. R&B didn’t stop after your need for middle school slow dances. It’s still here and writers are still crafting stories. Coco is absolutely on that path to being an all-star writer and I’m excited to see her lock into this next phase of her career.

Back to my hope for the song… I believe this song will help keep up the momentum. It’s radio ready, with a classic sample that will drive spins to the original track as well as her own. Here We Go has a verbally stoccato chorus which is fun in R&B bc you can clap 👏🏿 your 👏🏿 hands emphatically along to the words and mean that shit.

By the second chorus I was ready:

🎶I 👏🏿know👏🏿when👏🏿said👏🏿say👏🏿good👏🏿bye👏🏿you👏🏿ain’t 👏🏿mean👏🏿no👏🏿good👏🏿bye👏🏿🎶

It reminded me of the “oh oh oh oh oh’s” in the original track.

Speaking of the Lenny Williams sample: it works. I am one of many who are tired of the lack of artful sample. This, to me, was artful and useful. The song being full length with a verses, choruses, and bridge (silly thing to point out but songs have gotten ridiculously short these days) means the sample comes dangerously close to wearing out its welcome, But it comes in just under the gun. I didn’t get tired of it. Why? Her steady melodies in each verse sail your through nicely and then you smack right into that fun choppy waters of the chorus. When the next verse hits you’re ready for another go. It feels exactly like going round and round with a partner. Come on, musical theme! Come on, melodic device!

This is absolutely my favorite thing about this track. Coco Jones is a super talented young woman. I genuinely hope it’s a hit.

4/5

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

The Middle of Nowhere (Part 1)

AI-Less Whumptober 2023: 1, 27 (details at bottom) Fandom: Top Gun, Top Gun: Maverick, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Reader (no relationships) Summary: Best friends Bradley and Jake arrive in a snowy forest for one of their monthly trips together. And now that everything is all set, it's time to let the fun begin... Word Count: 1523 TW: The warnings are in the tags and at the bottom of fic, but please avoid if possible due to spoilers Notes: This is the first part of a mini-series (linked below). I am EXTREMELY proud and excited about this series and hope you enjoy! Huge thank you to @loverhymeswith and @lorecraft for all of your help!💕 Part of @ailesswhumptober's event

Series Masterlist

“Come on, man. I’m freezing my balls off out here.” Jake jams his hands into his jacket pockets as he bounces lightly on the balls of his feet, his breath pluming in front of his face. “Can’t we wait and do this during the day when it’s warmer?”

Pulling the Army surplus bag from the backseat of the pickup truck, Bradley rolls his eyes at his friend. “What, and increase the chances of someone stumbling across us? Don’t be stupid. Just be glad it’s a full moon so we can actually see what we’re doing. We don’t need a repeat of last time.”

“I told you we were starting too close to that cliff but, of course, no one ever listens to me,” Jake mutters under his breath, looking around the clearing. Then, louder, he says, “Can we at least build a fire or something? Just while we’re setting up or waiting for them to get here?”

“You know we can’t. Stop acting like this is our first time doing this and just help me already.”

But Jake ignores his request as he throws his hands up in the air. “Well, whose bright idea was it to do this where there’s snow? We could have planned a trip to Florida or Texas o-or California. You know, someplace warm where I can actually feel my fingers and the girls are still showing some skin. I swear, every person at that bar had at least four layers on and that one chick looked like the kid from A Christmas Story.”

Finally unable to put up with Jake’s whining any longer, Bradley hurls the bag at his feet. Jake scrambles back with a yelp, his eyes wide as he throws his hands over his face. But after a moment when he realizes the snow has cushioned the bag’s landing, he relaxes but glares at Bradley. “What the fuck, man?”

“First of all, dipshit,” Bradley says, stalking over to drive his finger into Jake’s chest. “It also snows in Texas and California. Second of all, we didn’t drive all the way to the middle of fucking nowhere just for you to drool over every pair of tits you see. You know the rules. No fucking random girls on these trips.”

“I wasn’t gonna fuck them. But there’s nothing wrong with wanting a little look—”

“And third of all, we decided to come up here because you were tired of the same old, same old, and proposed changing it up. You wanted more of a challenge than empty desert plains or summer mountainsides, so we said we would either try the snow or the swamp this time. But since you were too scared of gators—”

“I didn’t say scared, I said concerned—”

“Scared—we decided on snow. So if you have a problem, you have no one to blame but yourself.” Bradley jams his finger deeper into Jake’s chest before turning around and walking back to the truck. “Now, if you’re done complaining, we have work to do. And the sooner we get everything ready, the sooner we can have some fun.”

Jake swears under his breath, but this time he sulkily trudges over to help. Bradley gives him a small smile and a nod as he hands him another one of the bags. Jake could be a real pain in the ass when he wanted to be, but the two of them had been friends since the first day of college so Bradley had gotten used to it for the most part. And at the end of the day, there was no one else in the world he trusted more. Plus, with everything Bradley was dealing with at work and with his family, it was nice to be able to just get out in nature with his best friend and let off some steam every month or so. 

And, despite the cold, this location is perfect. The moon reflects off the fresh snow illuminating the area and the pale trees surrounding them stand like silent guards as the two men unload their supplies. Twenty miles or so from the nearest town, it is the ideal place to set up camp with little chance of being disturbed. 

Bradley closes his eyes and takes in the sounds of the forest around him: the rustle of the frosty wind, the soft creak of the trees as they shift and bend, the low hoot of an owl as it takes off somewhere in the distance. The only man-made noise that can be heard is the crunch of snow beneath Jake’s boots as he walks over to place his bag next to the one already lying on the ground. They couldn’t have asked for a better spot.

Though he wasn’t going to admit this to Jake at the moment, Bradley is excited at the prospect of trying this in the snow. For the past ten years or so, he and Jake and occasionally a few other friends had been organizing these trips. And while he still enjoyed each and every one of them, things had started feeling a bit repetitive. He wanted more of a challenge, an extra layer of excitement and thrill that he just wasn’t feeling anymore. And this feels like it might be just the thing to recapture that spark. 

They haven’t even finished unloading the truck and already Bradley can feel a crackle of energy in the air that usually isn’t there. It’s as if the entire forest is holding its breath, just waiting in anticipation for the real event to begin. 

And who was he to keep it waiting?

As Jake places the last bag on the pile, Bradley scans the surroundings one last time before giving it his nod of approval. “I think we’re good to go. We still have to wait for them to get here, but I don’t see why we can’t get things rolling until then.”

“It’s about fucking time!” Jake whoops loudly, charging over to the truck. 

“Idiot,” Bradley mumbles softly to himself as he shakes his head, yet he can’t deny the adrenaline pounding in his veins at the thought of what comes next. He had been waiting almost two months to do this again, and now the time had finally come.

Jake runs over to the truck's left so Bradley takes his place on the right. As they both rest their hands on the massive metal toolbox in the back of the truck, Bradley catches Jake’s eye. The blonde is grinning like an idiot and practically vibrating with excitement. Bradley smiles back, and on the count of three, they both open their side of the toolbox.

As the winter air rushes into the box bringing the falling snow softly floating down inside of it, you begin to stir with a low moan. The drugs Jake had slipped in your drink must be beginning to wear off. You shift slightly in your cramped container but the ropes tightly securing your hands and bare feet prevent much more than that. 

Bradley watches with rapt delight as you flinch at the cold kiss of snowflakes settling on your cheek and, with what seems like a great effort, your eyes drag themselves open. For a moment, you stare up at Bradley and he sees nothing but hazy confusion in your gaze. But as Jake comes around the truck to stand beside him, twirling one of his knives as he grins down at you, that delicious dread-filled look of terror blooms in your eyes and you begin thrashing around in the toolbox, pulling on your bonds. 

So predictable, and yet, Bradley never got tired of it. The fear and helplessness that radiated from their prey was like a drug to him with a high that no other experience could match. Already, he feels the endorphins and dopamine rush flooding his system and he hasn’t even laid a finger on you yet. But once he had…

You begin hollering for help at the top of your lungs, the sound muffled slightly by the wonderland of snow all around you. It’s an understandable response and one that each and every girl they had captured over the years had tried. However, this time something is different. This time there are no tears or sobs mixed in with the screams. There is still fear, yes, but along with it is a determination, a fire they had only ever seen in a handful of prey.

Jake chuckles and nudges Bradley, his knife spinning faster as he soaks in the screams that only the two of them will ever hear. Bradley nods back, knowing they are thinking the same thing. This one is special. This is going to be a hunt to remember.

Several minutes later as your voice grows hoarse and falters with the realization that no one is coming for you, you curl into yourself as much as the box will allow—as if that could save you from them.

Climbing up the side of the truck so he towers over you, Bradley smiles, his eyes roaming every inch of your body. “Well, hello there, sweetheart. Ready to have some fun?”

Part 2 coming soon!

TW: Dark!Bradley, Dark!Jake, Locked Away, Drugged, Explicit Language, Hunted for Sport, Mentions of Past Kidnappings

Taglist: @green-socks, @heart-0n-fire, @mayhem24-7forever @the-untamed-soul, @inglourious-imagines, @straightforwardly, @bonnieelizabethparker, @srry-itshockeyszn, @flyinlove, @fandomhopped, @sweetheartlizzie07, @wanderdreamer, @callsign-phoenix, @shanimallina87, @forever-sleepy-sloth, @notroosterbradshaw, @dezthegeek, @blessupblessup, @cherrycola27, @phoenix1389, @nicangelinee, @smells-like-perfect-senses, @boringusername3, @petlaufeyson, @cycbaby, @topguncortez, @footprintsinthesxn, @fantasticcopeaglepasta, @writercole, @onebigfangirlworld, @wkndwlff, @ravenmoore14, @clancycucumber230, @mayhemmanaged, @kmc1989, @ohtobeleah, @sunlightmurdock, @roosterbruiser, @sparrows-corner, @ryebecca, @mads-weasley, @trencher4lyfe, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @tellrock35, @shanimallina87, @mak-32, @blue-aconite, @deppresseddyslexic, @horneybeach1, @desert-fern, @withahappyrefrain

[pxgeturner]

I love love LOVE your movie party! and your whole aesthetic is just-- AAH!! I was wondering if I could do: miguel o'hara + "hands off!" please <3 tysm!

summer movie fest masterlist

you’re a freelance writer, who often sells to the daily bugle. you have a crush on the editor, who saves you from one of his creepy employees. who knew the pining was mutual?

an.miguel brainrot is strong. i meant to post this yesterday but queue got messed up. also thank you nonnie !! ur a sweetheart <3 this prompt was practically made for miguel 🤭

wc: 638

warnings: kind of aggressive & entitled (incel) man (not miguel), not beta’d bcz i was impatient.

you were talking to one of the guy’s at the daily bugle. you don’t remember his name, you don’t really care.

“oh really?” you laugh.

“yeah, i mean, it’s a little more complicated than that, but it’s the jist.”

“i’m sure it is.” be nice, be nice, be nice. this guy really thinks you’re stupid, but you just have to wait until the editor comes out to tell you whether or not the piece you wrote works.

“so i was thinking–” the door to the editor’s office opens loudly, cutting him off. the large man offers you the paper.

“good job, the first draft was good but this is definitely ready for tomorrow’s print.”

“i’m glad to hear that!” am i being too obvious?

“excuse us, stenton, i’d like to talk to her on the way out.”

“yeah, uh, sure, sure thing, boss.” you mentally stick your tongue out at the weird guy. you walk with mr. o’hara.

“sorry about phil, he, uh, thinks he’s a ladies’ man.”

you snort and cover your mouth,“clearly,”

“i look forward to seeing your next story.”

“aren’t you lucky to have such a reliable freelancer like me?” you joke.

“i am, i really am, you’ve brought lots of new readers.” don’t blush don’t blush don’t blush!!

“i’m glad,”

“so, um,” he clears his throat, “when should i expect your next piece?”

“when it happens,” you joke.

“right,” he nods.

“what would it take to get you full time?”

“you know i’m focused on the novel.” he nods, and doesn’t push it.

the two of you reach the subway station, and say your goodbyes, and you get on your train. you lean your head on the glass, putting your hands over your face. you’re never gonna be able to tell miguel o’hara that you like him.

ha week later, you’ve given miguel a fresh story, and he’s dropped you off at the train platform yet again. you’re waiting for your train to come, trying to think of how you can tell miguel about your feelings.

“hey! cutie!” you cringe. it’s phil.

“hey,”

“how about, you and i go out for a bite to eat?” he puts a hand on your waist.

you step back and out of his hold. “sorry, phil, I gotta catch this train,”

“you can catch it later,” he gets closer to you.

“i’m tired and really just want to go home.” you apologize.

“c’mon,” he pleads.

“look, phil, i’m really sorry, but I’m not interested.”

He grabs your hand. “haven’t i done all the right things?”

“huh?”

“haven’t i been nice? a gentlemen? funny? interesting? strong?”

“phil, it’s not–”

“what– it’s not me? then why won’t you go out with me? huh?” he yanks you closer ..

you felt someone behind you, phil look up at them.

“hands. off.” miguel says in that gruff voice that leave no room for argument. phil does as he’s told and releases you.

“hey boss,” phil’s voice is the meekest sound you’ve ever heard.

“that is no way to treat a lady.”

“no– it’s, uh, not.”

“you’re fired.”

“What! WHY? i’m the best writer you’ve got!” he was starting to get his macho back.

“no you’re not. and harassment.”

phil tried to say something, but shut his mouth. he walked away, hands in the air. you took a deep breath and leaned on miguel.

“thank you,”

“i’m glad i came back.” you turned around.

“why did you come back?”

he’s blushing, rubbing the back of his neck“uh, uh, wanted to,” he clears his throat. is that a habit? “i wanted to talk to you, to uh tell you, that–”

you hold his hands between your two, “yeah?”

“that i’d like to treat you to, to… to, uh…”

“yes,”

he blinks, “yes?”

“yes.”

“my car–”

“lead the way,” you smile up at him.