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norrisainz33 · 19 days ago

Text

the return || mv33

summary: after taking a long break from social media, actress y/n y/l/n makes a surprise appearance with max verstappen's and his family and its not long after that the pair make things official

pairing: max verstappen x famous!reader

fc & warnings: coco jones and none

requested: yesssss!!!! thank you @sassyqueen-15 for always sending the most indepth requests!! i did my best with this one and hope you enjoy! looking forward to what else you cook up xoxoxoxo

masterlist

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

victoriaverstappen has posted to her story

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user1: now wait a second.... is that ......... who i think it is????

maxverstappen1: how will i ever survive 😫

victoriaverstappen: bring them some more sweets next time im sure they'll rethink their preference

maxverstappen1: i very much like that she's their favorite so ill leave it this way 🤍

user2: who is this gorgeous woman and why are we apologizing to max bc your kids like her???

ynuser: my favorite little beans in the entire world!!! i love them and you xxoo

victoriaverstappen: we love you so much auntie y/n/n ❤️‍🔥

f1gossip: oh the drama that this is going to cause... thank you ms victoria

sophiekumpen: 🤍

victoriaverstappen: 😘

user3: this is the best day of my life you have no idea

user4: just bc i haven't seen my queen in years doesn't mean i have forgotten my roots. thats my y/n/n ❤️‍🔥

f1gossip has made a post

liked by user1, user2, user3, user4, user5, user6, user7, user8 and 26,295 others

f1gossip: 🚨max verstappen's niece and nephew spotted on victoria verstappen's instagram story the THE anthea from the hit tv show the originals aka the ever illusive, y/n y/l/n who hasn’t been on social media in years. this feels like so much more than a soft launch and frankly, i think we may have missed an entire relationship because the second picture is from over a year ago and with this knowledge, it appears it's y/n on max’s yacht. what do you all think?

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user1: wait wait wait. the mother nature? ANTHEA?? with the verstappens?

user3: my worlds colliding this was not on my bingo card

user12: that’s absolutely y/n on that boat no doubt

user4: there’s no way her character predicted the 2024 season and then ran off to date max like she was living the prophecy 😭

user2: shes so pretty its actually insane

user5: y/n/n babe he wears skinny jeans whyyyyyyy

user6: y/n sign of life!!!!! thanks to the car guy!!!

f1 has made a post

liked by redbullracing, danielriccardo, tvdupdates, ynupdates, maxverstappen1, visacashapprb, f1gossip, and 670,233 others

f1: our reigning world champion arriving in paddock with actress y/n y/l/n! the originals star makes her first official f1 appearance 🔥🇧🇷

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user1: PADDOCK OFFICIAL?!

redbullracing: our favorite superstars 😍

user2: pause! we just found out about them yesterdy and now they're official?!

tvdupdates: real ones know her character loved max. looks like y/n does too 😌😍🥹🤯

maxverstappen1: ❤️💙

ynuser: 😘

user4: Y/N OMG SHES HERE SHE REMEMBERED HER PASSWORD

danielriccardo: my babies 😭🤍

user1: danny what are you doing here

user4: someone pinch me i must be dreaming

user5: she’s literally radiant it’s unfair

ynuser has made a post

liked by maxverstappen1, danielriccardo, yourbff, claireholt, tvdupdates, victoriaverstappen, jensenackles, paulwesley, and 1,435,303 others

ynuser: my dutch lion! champion once more!! i am so proud of you 😘🤍

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user4: MY LOVE OH YOU ARE GLOWING

maxverstappen1: i love you more than anything in the entire world

ynuser: love of my life, man of my dreams 😍🤍

user2: oh chat , this is the cutest thing ive ever seen

user1: the picture of them hidding at the end the are so precious

claireholt: gorgeous girl i have missed your beautiful face

ynuser: claireeeee my love

redbullracing: our champion and his queen [liked by ynuser]

user9: y/n you are outrageously beautiful its actually sickening

comments have been limited

danielriccardo has posted to his story

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maxverstappen1: you really had to post this huh

danielriccardo: had to make sure everyone knew i was an og

maxverstappen1: some would say you are THE og

danielriccardo: and they would be right for saying that because i did hype you up the night you went and shot your shot

maxverstappen1: was it you or was it the gin and tonic?

danielriccardo: ME!!!!!

user3: danny feeding us thank you

f1gossip: and.... when exactly did this happen mr riccardo?

ynuser: freak! (i love you)

danielriccardo: i am your favorite freak xoxoxxo

ynuser: absolutely! not a single doubt about that

redbullracing: ❤️💙

user4: keep giving us these crumbs please!!!!!

user5: my new mom and dad #confirmed

maxverstappen1 has posted to his private story

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victoriaverstappen: happy birthday to the prettiest girl in the world!!!!

maxverstappen1: THANK YOU TO MY ALL TIME FAV VERSTAPPEN - y/n

victoriaverstappen: oh hes going to love that message when he sees it LOL

danielriccardo: HAPPPYYYY BIRTHDAY BEST FRIEND

maxverstappen1: i thought i was your best friend?

danielriccardo: i'm going to hold your hand when i say this

ynuser: thank you for an incredible morning baby

maxverstappen1: you are so welcome my love. this is only just the beginning of a day to celebrate you

ynuser: i don't know what i did to deserve you

maxverstappen1: i find myself asking the same question all the time 🤍

sophiekumpen: beautiful! treat her well my boy xx

maxverstappen1: of course mum! by the way she absolutely loved the necklace you sent 😌

yourbff: spoiled smh

maxverstappen1: just wait till you the ring later

yourbff: i'm already buzzing. i actually can't wait to see it

lando: y/n! can't wait for her surprise party later 😌

maxverstappen1: i cant either!

lando: you've got everything set up yea? can i help?

maxverstappen1: just make sure she's distracted right after cake, ok?

lando: that i can do

isackhadjar: queen sht

maxverstappen1: period

maxverstappen1 has made a post

liked by danielriccardo, redbullracing, isackhadjar, liamlawson30, lando, ynuser, yourbff, martingarrix and 999,444 others

maxverstappen1: happy birthday to the girl who over the past 2 years has taught me what true love really looks like. you are my reason for being, my inspiration, my biggest cheerleader and my favorite person. thank you for making me a better version of me. i love you more than words will ever be able to describe. cheers to chapter 24 on the 24th 🥂🤍

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user4: the first official post and im in actual tears

danielriccardo: going soft on me now huh

maxverstappen1: when it comes to her? yes! if it comes to someone on track? no.

user12: may this sort of love find me

ynuser: max 🥹 i am the luckiest girl in the world. you are everything to me and more

maxverstappen1: liefje 😭😭😭😭

user19: i just looked at my bf and sighed

lando: CONGRATS AND HAPPY BIRTHDAY [this comment has been deleted by maxverstappen1]

user4: congrats about what?!!!?!? LET ME IN

user19: oh my god... walk w me here... does this mean engagement???

charlesleclerc: i love lover boy max

ynuser: me too 😍

user18: max did you kiss the brick before you threw it at me??? i cant stop crying this is so sweet

ynuser has added to their story

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user4: ENAGEMETNRGKM 🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

alexandrasaintmluex: he did such a good job wow

ynuser: RIGHT?! its stunning

user2: fell to my knees in the walmart parking lot

maxverstappen1: god that looks ring looks so god damn good on you

ynuser: i'm glad you think so handsome

f1gossip: consider us shocked

danielriccardo: best day of my life

ynuser: same but now max and i are going to have to fight over if you're a groomsman or a bridesmaid

danielriccardo: don't tell him just yet because i want him to enjoy this moment but im 100% going to be your bridesmaid 🥀

tvdupdates: you havent posted a story in literally 2 years i cant believe your first one is to tell us that youre engaged!!! i'm so glad you've returned to us

redbullracing: welcome to the family y/n!

ynuser: thank you admin xxxooo

user18: i have no one to talk to about this. my favorite actress and my favorite driver???

ynverstappen has made a post

liked by yourbff, claireholt, alexandrasaintmluex, iamrebeccad, maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, redbullracing, victoriaverstappen and 1,875,320 others

ynverstappen: tell everyone shes back but don't forget to tell them that she's mrs. verstappen now 😌💍

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iamrebeccad: the most beautiful bride to ever exist

ynverstappen: and you made the most beautiful bridesmaid to ever exist!

user8: THE MOTHER HAS RETURNED AND SHE’S A WIFE????? I’M SOBBING IN THE CLUB 😭😭😭

maxverstappen1: thats my wife!!!! god i am the luckiest man to ever walk the earth. i love you gorgeous

ynverstappen: i love you my handsome perfect husband

user5: she logged back in just to end us. queen behavior.

yourbff: absolutely beautiful. thanks for letting me share in this day with you 😭❤️‍🔥

ynverstappen: thank YOU for always sharing in the best moments with me 🥹🥹

user12: THE COMEBACK. THE RING. THE MARRIAGE. she really said “finale” like it’s a tv show

danielricciardo: mrs. verstappen has such a nice ring to it 👀 literally and figuratively

ynverstappen: i know thats right

user22: anthea fr manifested this. canonically and spiritually

georgerussell63: wedding of the century, no notes. max actually smiled. shocking scenes!

ynverstappen: he smiled and cried! wouldn't have believed it if there weren't a million photos

maxverstappen1: really gonna expose me like this?

georgerussell63: yup!

user4: my jaw is on the floor

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

a/n: thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs appreciated

ﾟ. ✿ ୨❤︎୧⠀✿ . ﾟ

disclaimer: pictures are not mine and everything i write is fiction

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checkeredflagggs · 18 days ago

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One More

Pairing: carlos sainz x wife!reader

summary: you have a secret to share with your husband

a/n: this literally popped into my head at 3 am and demanded to be written

Masterlist

Private Messages, Reyes and y/n

Private Messages, Lily/Alexandra and y/n

f1wagwatch

user1: ok but even crying she’s so pretty

↳user2: gross?

↳user1: don’t judge me

user3: Carlos can you fight?

↳user4: seriously Carlos can you fight?!?

user5: all men do is disappoint

↳user6: don’t I know it

user7: ok but what’s actually happening?? Like yn is not the type to cry like that…

↳user8: and outside the Sainz house??

↳user9: ummm where are the boys??

↳user10: that’s what I’d like to know…

↳user11: are we seeing the end of the Sainz couple???

↳user12: don’t even speak that into existence

user13: oh my god leave her alone?!?

↳user14: right?? Like fuck off

↳user14: leave the poor women alone…

Private Messages, Carlos and y/n

f1wagwatch

liked by user, user, user, and 728,823 others

f1wagwatch: Y/N Sainz makes a surprise appearance at Barcelona this weekend — a desperate attempt to mend a broken marriage or a heartfelt gesture from a loving wife?

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user15: my crops are watered, my skin is clear, the sun is shining

user16: the scream I scrumpt when I saw her cross my screen

user3: I still wanna know if Carlos can fight — because I will for her

user17: ok you guys need to stop trying to stir up trouble — they both fucking glowed when they saw each other

↳user18: no for real — Carlos like legit froze when he saw her walking his way

↳user19: I never knew someone could freeze so quickly…

user20: did anyone else see how Carlos glowed when y/n was on his arm??

↳user21: oh that man is so down bad

user22: I’m gonna say heartfelt surprise based on the way neither of them could stand to be more than 2 feet away from one another…

↳user23: omg right??? Like Carlos looked so panicked when y/n stepped away so they could get a solo picture of Carlos

↳user24: the look of betrayal he shot y/n was gold…

f1wagwatch

user25: god they are so in love…

↳user26: I want what they have

↳user25: so do I

user27: they’re shutting those rumors down hard

↳user28: and good for them!

user29: so fucking classy…

user30: ok but what was the good news??

↳user31: …am I’m crazy or 👶🏻??

↳user32: oh my god I hope so!?! Their kids are so cute

user33: the streets are saying it’s definitely a new baby Sainz!!

↳user34: oh I can’t wait!

carlossainz55

liked by y/n, alexandrasaintmleux, charles_leclerc, and 2,813,183 others

tagged: y/n

carlossainz55: Newest racer coming this fall 💙💙

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y/n: One of the days of my life

↳carlossainz55: you make me happier every day, Cielito

charles_leclerc: another baby sainz? Félicitations!

↳alexandrasaintmleux: a baby!! Oh I’m so excited and happy for you two

↳carlossainz55: ¡Gracias!

alex_albon: Baby sainz in the paddock?? Hell yeah!

↳alex_albon: I get to claim this one as my nephew right??

↳lilymhe: we absolutely do!

↳y/n: you’ll be the best aunt and uncle for this one 💙💙

landonorris: another godson for me to spoil???

↳charles_leclerc: another?? You don’t have a claim on Diego and Santiago! They’re my godsons!

↳alex_albon: ummm teammate privilege? I’m totally godfather

↳landonorris: you’re both wrong!

↳y/n: you’re all wrong — none of you are godfathers

↳charles_leclerc: what?

↳alex_albon: harsh

↳landonorris: WHAT? carlossainz55 explain yourselves

↳carlossainz55: sorry hermano but whatever y/n says goes liked by y/n

williamsracing: making some baby clothes as we speak

↳y/n: sorry not sorry but this baby sainz will be a Ferrari fan like their older brothers

↳scuderiaferrari: sending you another package as we speak liked by y/n

↳williamsracing: 😢😢

↳y/n: I’m just listening to Sebastian

↳williamsracing: I guess we understand

Taglist

Please interact with my taglist post if you want to join — I don’t always check the notes on the individual posts

@anamiad00msday @suns3treading @daniskywalkersolo @awritingtree @justheretoreadthxxs @lost4lyrics @mastermindbaby @freyathehuntress @angelluv16 @nichmeddar @mxm47max @justaf1girl @a-beaverhausen @tallrock35 @il0vereadingstuff @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @anunstablefangirl @princessesgarden @galaxygurlll @shelbyteller @ihaveitprinteddout @kuolonsyoja @allthings-fandom @mountainshuman @moonypixel @nikfigueiredo @daisydaze111 @deephideoutmilkshake @mimisweetz @books-fangirl-books @woderfulkawaii @fastandcurious16 @lilyofthevalley-09 @rexit-mo @alessa-the-enchantress @1800-love-me @greantii @toodeepintofandoms @tukes @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @lecfosimaxbull @dramaticpiratellamas @devilacot @supernatural-harrypotter7 @nightrose-18 @alexxavicry @vhkdncu2ei8997 @purplephantomwolf

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landograndprix · 1 year ago

Text

╰┈➤ ❝ desire us • l.n c.l ❞ i

part two

➪ life changed after you decided to go through it as a single woman, offering your daughter the best life she deserves, focusing on work, friends and family but damn, that guy.

➪ life is good and so is your 'friendship' with lando

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ book two is here & im so so sorry it took so long :( this takes place 2/3 years after desire. I kept the taglist from the first part of this series but let me know if you don't want to be tagged anymore. Comments and feedback are welcome <3 **I fucked up with Shangai gp and Suzuka, please pretend you never saw that 😭

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Monte-Carlo, Monaco

liked by manon_roux, charles_leclerc and 578,982 others

y/nusername meeting manon's mini 👶🏻

tagged manon_roux

view all 1,212 comments

norrizz welcome to the world manon's mini! <3

milliexoxo he's here! Will drop by soon 💙

↳ manon_roux still in florida with your boy?

milliexoxo yessss ☺

logansargeant what's his name, logan?

manon_roux boy you wish :')

logiebear still not over the fact logan is a part of this silly ass friend group 😂

norry4 congrats to Manon & Alice 🍼

joris__trouche bienvenue petit garçon 💙 (welcome baby boy)

landooooo zoe would make a great big sister 👀

↳ carlandooo bet lando would love to volunteer 👀

landooooo lando give y/n a 2nd baby pls 😭

norrisgp what the actual fuck is wrong with you guys?

landonorris thanks for the nephew 💙

landonorris his name's lando right?

↳ alicedidier 🖕

landonorris classy

yukisan MANON HAD A BABY?!

↳ landoscar girl her and her wife have a whole football team already 💀

yukisan WIFE?!

charles_leclerc bébé, tu es déjà tellement aimé 👶🏻💙 (baby boy, you're so loved already)

leclerc_16 all these men in the comments having massive baby fever lmao

charlos16 I personally think Charles and y/n should give zoe a sibling

↳ norry4 leave them alone jfc

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y/nusername

📍 Australia

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 462,781 others

y/nusername straya 🇦🇺

view all 1,222 comments

oscarpiastri would've given you a tour if you'd told me you were here

↳ y/nusername I've been here before, I know my way around :')

oscarpiastri I guess what i'm trying to ask is; do you want to hang out?

y/nusername no, I only want to hang out with lily

oscarpiastri that's fair and totally understandable

landoscar I love them your honor 😭

norrizz just two girlie girls living their best lives 🥺

charles_leclerc c'est définitivement ta fille 😂 (definitely the your daughter)

↳ arthur_leclerc deux divas (two divas)

y/nusername tu devrais peut-être te regarder dans le miroir une seconde ;) (maybe you should look in the mirror for a second)

joris__trouche trois divas dont Arthur 😂 (three divas including Arthur)

y/nusername fais-en quatre parce que tu es le plus grand de tous 🤣 (make that four because you are the biggest one of them all)

norry4 can't wait to see your pretty face on TV again <3

milliexoxo thanks for the invite..

↳ y/nusername you're welcome 😘

logansarge mom abandoning her child again lol

hamilt44n pls continue to humble Danica this season 😂

sharl16 I'm counting 3 adorable koalas in this post 🐨

landonorris do you want to build a snowman?

↳ y/nusername no

landonorris oh ☹️

y/nlando please y'all still so cute :(

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y/nusername

liked by manon_roux, oscarpiastri and 413,678 other

y/nusername osc & co.

tagged: milliexoxo, oscarpiastri, landonorris

view all 1,319 comments

mrsnorris interesting

oscarpiastri knew I was being watched

norrisfour in the mclaren garage again? Interesting indeed 👀

↳ bott_ass she was in Oscar's side of the garage, calm your tits

norrizz yall need to chill out, she's with mclaren, ferrari and williams most of the time. She's friends with their drivers. Give it a break.

logansarge what the hell millie, a mclaren hoodie?! 😭

↳ milliexoxo I'm sorry, it was the first thing I found in y/n her suitcase!

landoscar it's alright bestie, we know it's your favorite team <3

milliexoxo don't tell my bf :(

charlos16 dinner with lando you say?

maxfnorris where's zoë?

↳ sharl16 she's got a dad too yknow?

maxfnorris I never see them together

sharl16 then you need a pair of glasses cause youre blind as shit, Charles loves to show off his daughter 💀

landonorris starting to feel you're a bit obsessed with osc

↳ y/nusername just a bit?

landonorris a bit too much

manon_roux same 🥰

y/nusername yeah, don't you just want to pinch his cheeks and ruffle his hair?

manon_roux i just want to kidnap him and put him in my basement

oscarpiastri this is getting weird now, should I be worried?

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

manon_roux replied to your story

manon_roux

What are you doing in London?

I mean I know why you're in London but want to see if you're going to be secretive about it again 😂

y/nusername

manon_roux

No shame in visiting the people you'll call your in laws in a couple of months 😉

y/nusername

Don't you have a newborn to look after?

manon_roux

He's taking a nap

If he let's me, I'll have 20-30 minutes to annoy you

Are you staying at his place?

y/nusername

I hope Noah keeps you up at night

manon_roux

He's got a one bedroom flat, right?

y/nusername

He's got a couch

manon_roux

lol and who's sleeping on it? You?

He's not letting you sleep on his couch and you're not letting him sleep on the couch either

y/nusername

People can sleep in the same bed without anything going on

We did it before

manon_roux

we never dated nor do we still have feelings for each other

y/nusername

I'm glad you know how I feel

manon_roux

Bubs you're an open book to me, it's written all over your face

Even your baby daddy is trying to get you two back together

y/nusername

what?

manon_roux

oh c'mon charles is trying so damn hard to get you and lando back together, don't play dumb with me 😂

you meeting up with mum and dad norris? 🥰

y/nusername

You've been hanging out with millie too much

manon_roux

and you've been hanging out with my wife too much because why are you ignoring my questions?

y/nusername

Suck my nonexistent dick babes

manon_roux

I tried for years babes but turns out your into British goblins :(

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Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseoki @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend @jsjcue @d3kstar @themislovesf1 @geehsf @mehrmonga @gentlemonsterworld

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader @norwayxo @sunny44 @honeymoonelvis47

#lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris #lando norris smau #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando x reader #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #f1 driver x reader

1K notes · View notes

lionneee · 9 months ago

Text

Your sworn sword

English is not my first language, please be kind

Masterlist

Taglist

•Warnings: fingering, degradation (just a bit), 'just the tip', talking of sexual themes, piv, smut.•

Part 1 -> Part 2

{Request: I have a request! Aemond is send across the narrow sea to be the sworn sword/knight of a (verryy beautiful) princess from a noble house is esso’s. As punishment what he did to lucerys Thanks for reading dear 💙}

To say that Prince Aemond was grumpy was an euphemism.

He was rigid, stoic, and rude.

But your father loved him.

You couldn’t understand why, not after his most recent kill: his little nephew.

You remembered meeting Luke Velaryon once, he was a nice, gentle, kind boy.

His brother Jace was just the same.

Princess Rhaenyra had been invited as a guest at your father’s name day feast with her family, and you remembered spending a nice afternoon with her sons.

You actually kept contact with her youngest child, Jace. You two sometimes sent letters to each other, talking of your days apart.

You would have never said it outloud, but you had a weakness for the boy’s dark, beautiful hair.

But he was promised to her cousin Baela.

As soon as you heard the news, you thought he would have stopped sending you letters, but he didn't, and you almost cried of joy when the next letter came.

Then, your father sided with the greens.

He sided with rude, dangerous people, and named the worst of them as your sworn sword.

When he told you about his choice you begged him, you cried, you did everything you could to try to change his mind but it was all to no avail.

Now, all the other Ladies never sat with you, they were afraid to speak with you, all because of some dark, evil, scary person standing behind you, following every step you took.

It was so obvious how much he hated being a night, yet, he stood his role perfectly.

Aemond was always there, lurking like a shadow behind you, his presence cold and heavy, suffocating your every breath. He never spoke to you unless necessary, never showed any warmth or softness in his voice. There was nothing but formality and distance, a thick wall of indifference that made your skin crawl whenever he was near.

To be fair, the only thing you thought interesting of him was his dragon Vaghar.

Your days had become a game of silence, your once carefree nature now replaced with the constant awareness of his eyes on you. You missed the days when you could write to Jace without a worry, when his words brought you comfort and a glimpse of hope. Now, the letters felt like a secret rebellion, something dangerous, but you couldn’t give them up. They were the only link to a world that still held some warmth.

You still wrote to him, though your letters had become shorter, more cautious. You dared not mention Aemond, or your isolation. Instead, you spoke of mundane things, of books you were reading, of the changing seasons. Jace’s responses, too, had shifted, though he remained kind and attentive. There was always a note of tension, a hint of restraint. You knew he was aware of the shifting tides, of your father's allegiance to the Greens.

You happily walked in your room, smiling as you held the newest letter on your hand from Jace.

Aemond was walking right behind you, but you couldn’t care.

Jace's letter had just come.

You chuckled to yourself as you closed the door of your room behind you, leaving Aemond outside, guarding your door.

You jogged to your desk, sitting down on the chair and breaking the sigil, opening with trembling hands the letter.

There were only a few lines written.

You furrowed your brows, confused. He usually wrote at least one page.

Dearest friend,

I assume you have heard of my family’s recent loss, my sweet brother Luke, gone by the hand of my uncle Aemond.

It saddens me to tell you this, but due to your father’s allegiance and your newest sworn sword, I believe it is time to end our communications.

Jace Velaryon

You felt a pain in your chest.

A deep pain.

You weren’t going to receive any more letters from him.

I believe it is time to end our communications.

You stood up from your desk, leaving the letter to hit the floor as you ran to your bed, laying face down, your arms crossed under your face as you bursted into tears.

You didn’t eat lunch, you didn’t have dinner. You didn’t want to get up from your bed.

Your maids, even one of your closest friends tried to walk past Aemond to check on you, but he was impenetrable, he wouldn’t let anyone in, not if you didn’t want them to.

His behavior left you speechless.

You knew he was loyal, you knew he was one to do his duty, but the way he stood up for you, not letting anyone in just as you asked, left you almost flattered.

The hours dragged on as you laid in your bed, the room dark and suffocating. The weight of Jace's words still lingered, pressing down on your chest. It was as though the last thread connecting you to the warmth of your past had been severed. You felt utterly alone, the castle walls seeming colder, the silence more deafening.

But outside your door, Aemond remained, steadfast and unmoving. His presence felt different now, less like the shadow you despised and more like an unavoidable part of your life. He had become a constant, whether you liked it or not, and now, oddly, that constancy brought a shred of comfort in your moment of loss.

By the time the moon rose high in the sky, you hadn’t moved from your bed, save to cry quietly into your pillow. The pain of Jace's rejection, not just of you but of the friendship you had cherished, was overwhelming. You couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else, let alone leave your room.

A soft knock echoed through the thick wooden door. At first, you ignored it, thinking it was another maid or friend trying to check on you, Aemond would have taken care of it in a moment. But after a moment, there was another knock, firm yet measured, followed by a voice, calm, collected, and unmistakably Aemond’s.

"You haven't eaten." He said, his tone devoid of his usual coldness, though it was still restrained. You laid still, wondering if you could pretend you hadn’t heard him. But the silence lingered too long, and it was clear he wasn’t going to leave. He was your sworn sword, after all, bound to you, whether you liked it or not.

"I’m not hungry." You muttered into your pillow, your voice muffled and thick with the remnants of tears.

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation, which was unlike him. Then, Aemond spoke again, quieter this time. "It has been hours. You should take something, if only to keep your strength."

His words were filled with disinterest despite the meaning of them. He made impossible things possible.

"I don’t want anything." You repeated, more firmly this time.

The door opened with a loud creek, and Aemond just walked inside. You scoffed, annoyed, but you felt too sad to think about him pissing you off.

“Leave me alone!” You groaned on the mattress, clenching your hands into fists. You could hear him moving in the room.

“That puppy of my nephew is what has reduced you in this state?” He asked, scoffing. You turned your head to look at him, and you saw him looking down at a letter in his hands.

Jace’s letter.

You bolted upright on the bed, fury boiling inside you at the sight of Aemond holding Jace’s letter. His tall, imposing figure seemed even more oppressive in the dim light of your room. His one good eye flicked over the page with a mixture of disdain and cold amusement, while the sapphire in his other socket glinted in the low light.

"Give that back!" you demanded, your voice cracking from the tears and frustration, but Aemond made no move to return the letter. He dropped the letter, letting out another scoff.

“You’re a fool.” He said, his rudeness making you red to your ear.

“How dare you talk to me like that?” You exclaimed, indignited.

“He’s a bastard. You’re sweet on a bastard, the son of my whore sister. That’s foolish.”

You felt your blood boil at his words, each syllable a sharp jab to your heart. “You don’t know anything about me! You think you can judge me just because you think you're so much better than everyone else!?”

He stepped closer, towering over you, his expression a mixture of contempt and something unreadable. “I am better than everyone else. I’m surely better than that boy who has no right on the throne he wants to claim so much.”

Your anger flared, but underneath it was a deep sorrow. “He’s more than just a name or a title! Jace has been kind to me, and you—” you pointed an accusing finger at him, “you are the one who brings darkness wherever you go.”

Aemond’s eye narrowed, the air crackling with tension. “Kindness won’t save you, and neither will that bastard. This world isn’t built on sentiment. It’s built on strength and blood.”

“Strength?” you spat, incredulous. “Strength that comes from killing boys? That’s your idea of strength?”

He looked unfazed, his expression hardening. “Luke was weak. That’s why he’s dead.”

“You’re twisted.” You hissed. “It brings you pleasure, doesn’t it? Being feared, see people looking away from you –” He pushed you back before you could continue, as he started pulling off the upper structure of his armor.

You stumbled back as you looked up at him, confused and stunned, but he pushed you back again as he took off the lower part of his armor, making you fall back on your bed.

“You want to know what brings me pleasure?” He grabbed your ankle, dragging you down the bed until your butt was almost over it. He pushed the skirts of your dress up, exposing your legs.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You tried to close your legs, or pull down the skirts, but he raised your legs up, then he leaned down to grab both your thighs, spreading them apart, pressing his face against your underwear.

“This.” He mumbled against the thin clothing, his nose pressing against a funny spot against you, that made a strange sound come out of your mouth. “This brings me pleasure.” He growled as he pulled down your underwear along with the stockings. “Teaching stupid ladies their places.” He said as he dived his face back between your thighs, now his mouth pressing on that same spot, sucking and rubbing with his tongue, leaving you breathless for a moment, the pleasure was so high and so good you couldn’t speak.

You couldn’t see him, your skirts were covering the view, but you didn’t really care. Not when it felt this good.

You didn’t think you'd ever felt this good.

The one who was making you feel good, was a Targaryen Prince, a child murdered, the rider of the largest dragon in the world.

You could only squirm, your mind numbed by the pleasure, slowly overcoming all the alarms your brain was sending you, telling you to push the prince away, to not let him touch you in such an appropriate manner.

But then, all so suddenly it stopped, leaving you panting heavily. You saw Aemond raising his head from between your legs, coming into your field of vision.

His chin was wet, his only eye almost completely black as he looked down at you.

His hands moved on your skin, almost gently, caressing your skin as they moved up, your knees, your ankles. He wrapped his fingers around your ankles, securing your legs raised, your feet by each side of his head.

You should have stopped him.

This was improper, it was a sin. A sin you were committing with the worst man in the Seven Kingdoms.

You wanted to move, kick him back, telling him to stop touching you with his filthy, blood-stained hands, but under the dark gaze of his single eye you couldn’t move.

Aemond tightened the grip on your ankles, suddenly pulling you up so your hips lifted from the mattress. Startled, you let out a weak squeak, gripping the sheets tightly as your body moved forward, the back of your thighs landing harshly against him, your core rubbing against a protuberance on his pants, the impact sending another jolt of pleasure through your body.

“Yeah, you like it.” He hummed to himself as he dropped you back on the mattress. He leaned down, his body making space for himself between your legs as his face came to hover yours. “And you want to feel it more, don't you?” He smirked, looking down at you.

You could feel your face burning because of his words, more likely because of the truthfulness of them, because yes, you wanted to feel it again.

“No-” You mumbled as you looked up at him, directly in his eye, trying to sound firm, but he simply chuckled, grabbing your face with his hand, his fingers digging in the soft skin of your cheeks. “Such a liar. No wonder why my sweet bastard-nephew doesn’t want you.”

That stang.

Your eyes immediately filled with tears and anger.

“How dare you?” You hissed as you tried to push him off of you, slapping his chest repeatedly, but he only smiled even more.

“There, there…” He hummed as his hand went back underneath your dress, finding you private again. No matter how much you fought, his body was keeping your legs apart, and he seemed impossible to move.

You only stopped when you felt a strange feeling, something filling you in a way you’ve never felt, that made you gasp out loud. You unconsciously let out a moan, your back arched instinctively, as your body almost contorted as he started moving his finger inside you.

“So easy to shut you up, mh?” He asked as he followed your face to be able to see every expression you made. “So easy to put into place.” He added then in a low voice.

You gritted your teeth together, trying to find in you the force to push him off, to not give him the satisfaction he was showing with that damn smile of his, but you couldn’t. The only sounds that came out of your mouth were whines or soft moans as his finger moved faster inside you, caressing everywhere inside you, and eliciting a pure bliss of pleasure.

“Jace is a fool for leaving you.” He said as he looked at you, your eyes half closed, your head leaned back, your lips apart. He didn’t even look like he realized he said that, it was like he was talking to himself and accidentally said it outloud. You turned your head to look at him, finding his eyes fixed on you, staring in appreciation. “You’re a rare beauty.” He said, his voice low and rough.

You blinked slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. A warmth spread across your chest, but you weren’t sure if it was the pleasure or the way his gaze lingered on you.

No.

You thought to yourself.

Not him.

Please.

But the way he looked at you, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world was doing something to you. It made your stomach clench, your head dizzier.

You’ve been told countless times by suitors that you were a sight to see, a beauty, but it did nothing if not make you blush or feel appreciated.

With Jace you felt your heart beat so loud you feared it could jump out of your chest.

You too were aware of your beauty, but you never thought of it as a rareness.

But now with Aemond Targaryen, the cold, mean, cruel man, who was doing unspeakable things to you, who looked at you like a Goddess, you truly felt like one.

Aemond’s gaze pierced through you, a silent intensity in his expression that made your breath catch in your throat. You wished you could deny the way his presence and actions were affecting you, wished you could ignore the way his words stirred something deep inside. But the truth was undeniable.

As he slipped his second finger inside your thigh core, you felt it crushing on you. You didn’t know what, but for a moment, you forgot about everything, Jace, the war, Aemond’s sins, your worries, your anger and your sadness, it all vanished by the newfound feeling of ecstasy. You whined louder, making aemond clamp his other hand immediately over your mouth to muffle your sounds as he kept moving your fingers. You looked at him with wide eyes, you didn’t know what had just happened to you, but you wanted to keep feeling it, no matter what cost, you wanted to feel that good again.

He kept pumping his fingers inside you as you saw him starting to move, rub, against your thigh, some hardness pressing and caressing your skin. His brows arched slightly, his eye narrowing slightly as he pressed his hips harder against you, seeking more friction and pressure.

You’ve never seen a man do a face close to that one.

You’ve never seen Aemond make a face like that, and it was beautiful, it was breathtaking, hypnotizing, you felt like watching him all day as he experienced his pleasure.

He didn’t miss the way you seemed affected, obviously. He looked down at you and found you staring at him, his eye darkened even more, his pupil dilating even more if possible as he clenched his jaw.

“You like this?” He looked down at you, moving his hand from your mouth to your neck, gripping it tightly, but not enough to actually cut your air off. You tilted your head back, wrapping your hands on his wrist and arm, gasping as he slipped his fingers out, passing them over your pearl just to see you squirm, his lips moving into a smirk. “No.” He said as he sat up in his haunches between your legs, forcing you to spread them to make room for his body as he started to undo his pants. “You love it.”

You tried to look down, trying to understand what he was doing but he squeezed your throat into a warning, keeping your head in place. “What are you trying to see, uh?” He growled as he pushed his pants down enough to let his cock spring free. “Such a curious menace, always getting into trouble.” He hissed as he leaned over her to look at you from above. “Always sneaking around, making my life harder.” He gritted his teeth. “Making me chase you.” He raised her skirts to your waist as he aligned his cock to your core, wet and warm, hot.

“No – “ You mumbled as you felt the tip pressing on your skin. “Y-you can’t- We’re not married-” You mumbled as you panted, shaking your head. Aemond smiled down at you, his thumb caressing the skin of her neck.

“No one will notice.” He said firmly, pushing slightly, making his tip grace the inside your core, just slightly, enough to hear another moan from you. “Just…” He groaned as he repeated the movement, moving his hips forward as his face contorted in pleasure. “... the tip – Fuck –” He groaned as he started moving his hips, the tip of his cock was being sucked in every time by your cunt, as if it was trying to keep him inside.

It didn’t feel bad.

She did feel like her cunt was being torn apart, but she found the pain mixed to the pleasure extremely pleasing.

It was good.

It was so good.

The pleasure was so overwhelming, so strong, so blissful.

“A-Aemond – “ You bit your lower lip as you arched your back, jerking your hips to find more pleasure as his tip kept slipping out and back in.

Aemond couldn’t tear his eyes off the sight, your core making a wet sound every time he slipped in, your walls forced open to make space for his thick cock, his red tip being welcomed in the warmness of your body, and then the sound of your weak wail every time he pulled back, only enough to be able to push back in.

“Yeah like that –” He growled as he tightened his hand around your neck, his eye still fixed on how your bodies connected, his thrusts regular, calculated and hard.

He was hanging by a thread, and he was showing a great amount of control, just by not slamming his whole long cock inside you, and making you scream in pain and pleasure.

“Grind yourself like a whore –” He snarled as he started rolling his hips faster, the wet sound growing louder along with his pace. “Fuck youre so tight – You’re squeezing me inside - ”

It didn’t bother you the way he called you, the way he spoke. If not, it only aroused you more.

You bit your lower lip harder, and no matter how low you tried to keep your noises, it became impossible as Aemond moved his free hand, using his fingers to circle your pearl, putting just the right amount of pressure. Your back arched violently as you threw your head back, your mouth open in an oval shape, grunts and moans coming out one after another as Aemond tightened his hand around your throat, starting to cut some of your air supplies, your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

It was all so much.

It was all so good.

“Come.” He growled as he finally looked up at you. “Come, before I lose it.” His eye fixed on yours. He looked feral. He looked like a chained animal, that once set free, would have hunted and killed everything in its path. “Come, before absolutely ruin you.”

It wasn’t like you had any control over it, because when the pleasure reached you in such a hard, strong frisson, you could only surrender to it. Your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but Aemond tightened his hand on your throat even more, killing every sound you could have let out. Your eyes watered as your hips jerked, the pleasure washing over you in devastating waves.

He snarled, letting go of your throat, but you barely had the time to take a deep breathe because you felt a stinging pain, barely muffled by the aftershocks of you climax, as Aemond grabbed tightly your hips and harshly pulled to him, making you slip down on the bed and making his cock thrust completely inside you, as he moaned on top of you.

“So fucking tight.” His voice was strained, his breathing heavy, then, you felt a strange sensation of wetness inside you.

You whined as the bliss of pleasure slowly faded away, leaving you in an uncomfortable pain, so you pushed Aemond away, who retrieved with a groan, slipping out of you.

You slowly sat up, looking at him as your mind slowly registered the last moments.

Aemond stood up from the bed, tucking himself inside his pants and starting to put his armor back on.

You didn’t say anything in the meanwhile, you just stared down at the bed covers, where you and Aemond were laying till a few seconds before, committing one of the worst sins ever.

A sin that felt so good.

You snapped out of your moment of trance only when you heard the door slam shut, and a strange smell of burned paper in the air. You moved to the end of the bed, on the floor, there was a piece of paper on fire.

Jace’s letter.

Part 2

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readychilledwine · 1 year ago

Note

Could i request something where az and reader are mates. They have a huge fight and “break up” and reader leaves the court. She finds out that she is pregnant and writes him a letter. He never shows up so she thinks he doesn’t want the baby. Rhys visit the court she is in and sees her with a child maybe a couple months old. He is mad because she didn’t told him and when he ask her why she keeps his nephew away she tells him that she wrote az but he never answered. Rhys is mad and ask az what is up with him to just leave his pregnant mate. Unbeknownst to him that az was searching for her the whole time. Az tells him that he never got a letter and they find out that maybe elain burned it. It takes some time for them but they find their way back and just fluff azriel dad who teaches his son how to fly.

( you could write more angst between reader and az because of elain or you could use a maid or something who wants az)

Here Without You

Summary - Being a single mother was more painful than you'd ever thought it would be, especially when your son's father was just a court away.

Warnings - Angst, Elain showing those claws, single mom status, a child, PPD and the thoughts that come with it, **edited to add** cheating

A/N - I had one of my friends who is a single mom help me with this one while also imagining my life without baby daddy, and um, yeah. We cried a lot, so hopefully, you all do too.

*message from Liz regarding the ending at the end*

💙Peep my Azriel Masterlist Here💙

You had decided whatever you had done to offend the Mother must have been truly unforgettable and unforgivable as you sank against the wall of your family chambers in the Day Court Palace.

Being a new mother was the hardest thing you had ever and will ever do. You had finally gotten Nox down after 3 hours of fussing and tears, and now you waited. He'd sleep 2 hours if you were lucky, wake up crying, and you'd start the process over.

You had wished for your mate more times than you could count, but that bridge was long gone and burned. He had ensured of that by not coming when you wrote him, by not even bothering to write you a response.

The last fight between you and Azriel had been ugly. Glasses had been thrown, a bottle of wine knocked over in rage, cruel words you would both have to live with ringing in your ears like a scream. 350 years. Gone. Thrown away like garbage. All for Elain.

Selfish, plotting, destructive Elain.

You stood, body swaying with sleep deprivation setting in before sitting at the table where your now cold food set. You were too tired to eat, choosing to instead drink the water you had been desperately craving 4 hour ago.

You had wished you could turn it to wine, drink it with no consequences, and still feed Nox when he woke, but that was not the reality of the world. So, instead, you allowed the room temperature flavorless beverage to slide down your throat before moving like a ghost to the couch. There was no point in getting comfortable in your own bed. You would have to be up soon anyway. It wasn’t as if you had help.

You were alone.

And that wasn't even the most painful part of it.

The most painful part was setting in doubt. The growing disbelief that you weren't capable of this, that Nox deserved more, that you should have dropped him at the cabin you had no doubt Elain had moved into, leaving him with her and Azriel to allow you to-

You cut your brain off, refusing to put those words into a full thought. Refusing to believe that your disappearance or death was better for your son than this.

This had to be enough, you had to be enough, because Gods if it wasn't and you weren't, then what truly was the point in living any longer.

Helion entered your chambers the next morning, eyes falling to where you were sat on the floor, shoulders shaking as sobs tore through you. He placed a large warm hand on your shoulder before taking Nox from your arms. "I know I can not offer much of a break due to his feeding cycle, but when is the last time you ate a hot meal, y/n?"

You shook your head. He was 2 weeks old. You supposed it had been before labor. Since then, it had been moments begging for just a second of deep sleep. Moments begging for the Mother to help you, to guide you. Moments where those prayers went unanswered as if they were just thrown into a void. "I don't remember."

Helion could have killed Azriel for you, for Lucien, for Nox. He almost had when you had winnowed yourself here, collapsing in his arms from the exhaustion magic and a growing babe had caused your body.

You hadn't known when you came to the Day Court, begging your oldest friend for a week of safety and healing that you were pregnant, but the High Lord had scented it the second you appeared.

It left him wondering how the hell Azriel hadn't.

"Let me hire a wet nurse for you," he offered again, knowing you would turn it down since your depressive state had you hyper fixated in this belief that all you were good for now was your breasts, and if you gave that duty away, what purpose did you have? "At least for the next few hours. To give you time to rest?"

You still shook your head, messy, tangled hair trying to sway. "I can't. I can't burden someone else."

Helion turned his head away from you, willing himself not to cry at the emptiness of your voice, at the lifelessness you had become.

"The Night Court and Spring are coming today," he started slowly. "I am the magic selected neutral ground for Tamlin and Rhysand to begin setting a peace treaty and trade routes." He waited for your reaction, almost breaking further as you gave him none. "Do you want to see any of them?"

"Lucien and Tamlin."

Helion felt his heart shatter for Cassian, the male who had been asking about you for months now. "The general-"

"Is Azriel's brother. And probably has taken his side. Attempts to see me are probably to give him some sick sort of satisfaction."

He dropped the subject immediately. Nox was asleep, content in the High Lord's arms. "I have time before they arrive, go nap." Helion ordered it, eyes blazing a soft gold and forcing you into submission.

Your bed had never felt so soft.

Helion was walking with Nox around the Palace, smiling and cooing the little male. He was always content when he was being held, and you were so deeply asleep you hadn't even noticed Helion holding the boy to your chest as he nursed. He walked towards where Lucien and Tamlin were.

His son, his pride and joy, looked just radiant in his Day Court attire. The soft, off-white pleaded fabric draping him showed the new healthy build he had gained since Azriel and Elain's transgressions, a golden snake wrapped his bicep, new golden earrings adorned those many piercings.

Lucien paused, a look of concern etching his face when he saw Nox before shaking his head rapidly.

But it was too late, Helion was already in the room where Rhysand also stood with the Inner Circle. The Lord of Night's face fell as he looked at the Illyrian boy, looking so happy up at Helion as he dozed off.

Cassian had frozen, mid sentence with Nesta. He had tried to take a step, wanting to see the babe he immediately knew was his nephew. His eyes met Helion's pleading with permission to approach. Elain's face had paled. A mix of guilt and fear running across it before she schooled it into a faked look of hurt and sadness.

But it was Azriel's face the broke the High Lord. It was a look he knew all too well.

The look of a father who missed the birth of his child.

The look of a father who didn't know he had a child.

The look of a father mourning lost time.

Lucien moved to Helion, taking Nox before leaving the room quickly. The boy did as he always did when his head found Lucien's warm bare shoulder. He released a heavy breath, snuggling into that familiar scent and warmth. "Your mother did not call for me last night," they all heard his soft voice trailing off, speaking to their nephew softly.

"You will tell me everything I do not know," Rhysand demanded as if he was in his own court. "When the fuck was he born. Why were we not informed of her pregnancy?"

Tamlin looked to Helion, digging the shit further. "Is she in the same room as last time?" The Lord of Day nodded. "I will go see her while you all deal with this."

Helion didn't answer, walking to the centered round table and taking the head seat. "To begin, Rhysand, this is my court. You will not make demands of me in my home." They all sat, aside from Azriel. His gaze was locked on the hallway Lucien and Tamlin had gone down.

If he ran, he could catch them. He could see you. He could-

The slam of hands on a table ripped him from his thoughts, and his head snapped to Helion. The High Lord was blazing, glowing like the sun itself, heat radiating from him. "Sit. Down."

An hour later and Rhysand had the bridge of his nose pinched between his fingers. "You saw her send each letter?"

Helion rolled his eyes, nodding again. "Every month after every check up and once after the birth."

Rhys pointed to Azriel. "But you never got them?"

"My son wouldn't be in another court if I had," Azriel's voice mirrored yours. Broken, empty, mourning. Mourning what was, what he had missed and would never get back. "You're sure she sent them to me?"

Helion could have snapped his neck. "Who else would have fathered her babe? You are the one who stepped out of the bonds of marriage and mateship. Not her."

Azriel paused, a sudden look of anger gracing his face as he looked up at Elain, shadows curling his ears. Nuala appeared, setting envelopes down in front of Rhysand. "In her room. Under her bed in a locked chest. Along with every communication you had tried to send to y/n, my lord."

Feyre gasped, turning her back to Elain and leaning further into Rhysand, holding Nyx tightly between them. She remembered those first few weeks. The sleepless nights, the pain, the emotional down pour. She would not have survived without Rhysand. Without Nesta and Mor. Without Cassian and you and Azriel. Her sister, the one who had held her as darkness swallowed her mind after her son's birth, had allowed you to endure this alone.

Azriel's hands shook, reaching for that stack. He separated out the letters. 10 for him. 2 for Rhysand and Feyre. 2 for Mor. 2 for Amren. 4 for Cassian and Nesta.

Helion stood. "I will let you all process this. Call for me when you are ready to do negotiations. The sooner you all leave, the better for her."

Rhysand's eyes shot up. "You won't let us explain to her-"

"Does it change the fact that he took Elain to their marriage bed? Does it change that he signed the annulment papers." Silence filled the room. "I believe that's why she left. Correct?" Rhys grit his teeth nodding. "Then all this changes is me, someone she trusts and feels safe with right now, informing her of what happened and allowing her to decide if she wants to reach out again from that point." He made a pointed look at Elain. "Which would not matter since I cannot see you removing the parasite from your court."

Helion walked into your room to Lucien and Nox laying skin to skin, a blanket over them as Tamlin held you, long fingers running through your dark hair. "And?" His son said.

"Your mate hid the letters regarding her pregnancy." Lucien whistled. "She's a snake hiding behind beautiful scales."

Azriel had tracked down your room with his shadows easily. The inner circle had been excused for the negotiations and allowed to explore the city. Cassian had flown Elain home, Mor and Amren winnowing Nesta behind them. Cassian wanted Elain out of his house, and Azriel could not have been more grateful to his brother for having his back.

He entered the room slowly and quietly. You were placing the babe in a crib on the balcony. It was shaded from the sun, shielded to remain the perfect temperature, and yet gave him access to fresh air, to the breeze.

You turned, eyes wide the second you saw Azriel. He moved to you so quickly that you could hardly process it. One second, your feet were on the ground, and the next, arms held you tight against him. Azriel was breathing deeply, memorizing your scent all over again.

He set you down, keeping you close to his chest, and sent a prayer to the Mother. "Elain hid all the letters," he began slowly. "She kept them all in her room. I didn't know. Had I known about you, about him, I would have crawled the very depths of hell to bring you back home to me."

You didn't answer. Tears fell as your body relaxed into him. It wasn't fair. The hold he had on you. The need you still felt in your bones when he touched your skin. You ached for Azriel so deeply it echoed into your bones. You longed for his smell. His voice.

Azriel took your silence as permission to continue. "I made a mistake. I will never be able to make up for it. Elain knew the second you left, I wanted to correct this. I was so blinded by her, by the feeling of being needed like that again, that I forgot how precious your independence was. How beautiful it is."

He couldn't stop himself from kissing the top of your head. "You are all I think about. Morning, noon, and night, it is always and will always be you. I am so sorry for what I have done. I am sorry for hurting you, for ruining us, for hurting the family we should be raising together. There are no words for my remorse."

"Why?" Your voice broke as you asked. "Why wasn't I enough?"

Azriel pulled back to look at you, hand raising to hold your chin and force eye contact. "Y/n, you are not at fault for my actions. You did nothing wrong. There is no partial blame, no what ifs. I fucked up. I made a mistake and it cost both of us everything. You are the victim of my actions, not the catalyst."

He saw you process those words and saw as they sunk in. "You were and are more than I will ever deserve. I want to spend my lifetime making up for it. Becoming a male you are proud of. I want to be the father I never got to have. I want to be the husband and mate you deserve. I know it will take time, and I do not expect your forgiveness today, but if you give me a chance, I will go to my grave worshipping the ground you two walk."

"Do you want to meet our son?" He broke at the question, feeling the bond opening back on your end. "This doesn't mean we're back together. It means we need to coparent for him while we work on things." He nodded rapidly, following you to the bassinet.

It felt like the world was coming full circle. You knew it would take time, that you two had many things to discuss first. This was a needed good start, though. Your pain eased slightly as you pulled back the curtains to the crib and whispered, "Azriel, this is Nox, your son."

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho

**I have received some pretty nasty anon asks, some unconstructive comments, and a good amount of general negativity regarding this fic. If you are unhappy with the ending and want to know why I made the choices I made as the author, click #discussingherewithoutyou. Unconstructive comments will be receiving the same copy and paste answer from here forward.

My time and content are free. If you do not like them, scroll.

General Taglist:

@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium

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@elle4404

#acotar #acotar x reader #send asks #send anons #azriel acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x yn #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #discussingherewithoutyou

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 6 months ago

Text

Cannibals [Chapter 7: Lightning and Rust]

A/N: Only 3 chapters left!!! 🥳❤️💙🦇

Series summary: You are his sister, his lover, his betrothed despite everyone else’s protests; you have always belonged to Aemond and believe you always will. But on the night he returns from Storm’s End with horrifying news, the trajectories of your lives are irrevocably changed. Will the war of succession make your bond permanent, or destroy the twisted and fanatical love you share?

Chapter warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), babies and parenthood, blood and violence, character deaths, I really cannot summarize this chapter you just gotta experience it, I'll pray for you 🙏

Word count: 6.8k

💙 All my writing can be found HERE! ❤️

Tagging: @themoonofthesun @chattylurker @moonfllowerr @ecstaticactus @mrs-starkgaryen, more in comments 🥰

🦇 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🦇

You’re curled up in bed with a velvet pouch of hot stones that have gone cold, bloody rags bunched between your thighs, trying desperately to sleep, and outside a storm is brewing over Blackwater Bay and bringing with it dark skies and strikes of lightning that stalk ever-closer. Through the open window, the air tasting like late-summer rain, you can hear Helaena and the maids corralling the children back into the Red Keep. They are laughing because nobody is dead yet, not even the ailing and absent King Viserys, not even doomed little Luke Strong.

Aemond lets himself into your chambers and stands over your bed, staring down at you with some combination of annoyance and concern. You have failed him. You were not where he wanted you to be. “Why weren’t you at the beach?” Playing with your niece and nephews, collecting your seashells.

“Because women are cursed.”

Aemond smiles, perhaps a bit relieved; he has his answer. “And you more than any of them, because you’re so wicked.”

“Maester Orwyle says I can’t have more milk of the poppy for two hours.”

“Then we must listen to him. It is a powerful remedy, and we cannot endanger you.” He takes off his boots and climbs into bed, lying behind you, one hand following the curve of your waist to settle on your lower belly. “I can relax the muscles. It might ease your suffering.”

Right now? “Oh no, no, you don’t want to do that,” you warn him. “It’s very messy.”

“You think I’m afraid of your blood?” Aemond says, amused. “Everything we’re built of is the same.” He lifts the hem of your silk nightgown and reaches underneath the nest of rags, sliding there in the coppery wetness as you inhale sharply, startled but not unwilling. When Aemond removes his hand, the carnage he is stained with is bright crimson but dotted with clots. Then he licks the blood from his fingers and paints his tongue red. You can’t keep the shock from your face. Aemond grins, wets his hand again, draws a heart on your left cheek just beneath your eye. You laugh and pretend to try to shove him away.

“You’re deranged, you’re a monster—”

“Let me help you,” Aemond whispers, nuzzling blood from his lips into your silver hair. “Let me take your pain away like you quiet mine.”

And you surrender to him like you always do—worn down, overpowered, intoxicated, bewitched, seduced, perhaps all at once—and as Aemond’s hand works and the gory metallic ether of blood fills both of your lungs, the cramps dissolve into nothingness and then build to desire, and you’re opening your thighs for him and the rags are whisked away, unnecessary, forgotten, and now there is blood on the bedsheets and your fingers are twisting into the pillows strewn around you, and it doesn’t feel shameful at all anymore, because what is blood if not made from the same minerals as coins and blades and ocean and ash, and what is lust if not a fire that burns the constraints of the world away?

You kiss him as you come, moaning into his bloodstained mouth, biting his lower lip, and if the careless pressure of your teeth makes him bleed then that’s just more iron and copper and steel to add to the molten sea you are marooned in, more magma, more rust. “Enough,” you gasp when the last of the waves have passed and you are emptied and too sensitive, and Aemond knows to listen. Then you reach for Aemond’s trousers, where you can see he is hard. You are abruptly and ruinously exhausted—you struggle to keep your eyes open—but it feels wrong to not take care of him in return.

It shouldn’t take long, he’s already flushed, he’s already dripping sweat—

“No need,” Aemond says, gently stopping your hands. And as you burrow into the pillows and your eyes dip closed, your skin and hair still splattered with red, he slips away silently so you can sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t want to leave you,” Jace says, knowing that he has to anyway. “Either of you.”

You are nursing the baby in a chair by the fireplace; you needed a change of scenery from the bed. The upholstery is pale blue velvet. The blanket the baby is swathed in is embroidered with pine trees and foxes, and far beyond your skill; Lady Caro made it. She is nearly as gifted with a needle as Helaena. On the walls of the bedchamber you share with your husband are mosaics you’ve pieced together over the past nine months here at the modest castle of Heart’s Home in a cold, remote corner of the Vale. The fractured faces look in on you like curious gazes through clear windows: Aegon, Helaena, Daeron, Jaehaera, Maelor, Mother, Criston. You aren’t any closer to them now, but you feel like you are. The world seems softer, warmer, smaller.

You smile as you ghost a fingerprint over the baby’s faint dark eyebrows. He’s half-asleep as he suckles, hushed and content and entirely helpless. He has Jace’s coloring, but something about the shape of his eyes reminds you of Aegon. “We’ll be here waiting when you get back.”

“I think he looks a lot like Luke,” Jace says, admiring the baby. He’s standing with one arm draped over the back of your chair and the flickering firelight from the hearth on his face, turning his skin from snow to sunstone. “And Joffrey. His face is rounder than mine.”

“Have you been to the Eyrie to see them since the war began?” Joffrey, Rhaena, Rhaenyra’s young white-haired sons Aegon and Viserys.

Jace shakes his head. “I never wanted to be away from you for longer than necessary. I didn’t want to risk being spotted and revealing where they’ve been hidden. And I didn’t know what to say.” About us, about our marriage, about our baby.

“You should visit them, Jace. I would visit Helaena and her children if I could.” You leave out the others intentionally; Helaena is your only sibling that Jace considers blameless. You miss Aegon and Daeron just as much, but in the solitude of your own heart—in the stillness, in the silence—you aren’t sure if you want to see Aemond again. You don’t know if he will be soft with you, or vengeful or cold, or if he has filled the void of your absence with a lover, something that you cannot think about without your stomach lurching and your skull aching, and so you put him out of your mind as much as you can and stay here with the baby instead.

Jace rests a hand on your shoulder reassuringly, then strokes your cheek. He says, meaning the baby: “We’ll have to get him his own egg.”

“I hope he won’t inherit my affliction,” you murmur somberly. “I hope he’ll have a dragon someday.” Without them, we are powerless. Without them, we aren’t real Targaryens.

“Maybe there’s something you need to do first.”

You look up at Jace, not understanding.

“I’ve spent a lot of time considering what inspires a dragon to bond to someone,” he says. And you think, feeling a fleeting stab of betrayal before you stitch the wound closed with invisible thread: Because you’ve been helping the Blacks search for riders. “It seems that each creature has their own preferences. Meleys favored women who were spirited and highly intelligent. Dreamfyre has chosen two riders, both gentle, shy, and fond of animals. Seasmoke bonded to two sons of Corlys Velaryon with similar temperaments, agreeable and charismatic, Quicksilver to a father and son who were both considered weak and died young. Caraxes seems to have an affinity for warriors.” It does not escape you that Jace neglects to mention Vhagar, as if through his silence he can make the beast and her rider vanish. “And Vermithor…” Jace offers you a small, sympathetic smile, remembering that you once wanted him. “The Bronze Fury bonds to riders who are imposing in body and ambitious in spirit. And I suspect he only likes men.”

“So it was always hopeless,” you say gloomily. You recall the miniature Vermithor that Aegon once carved for you out of oak wood. You hope that Aegon is still alive somewhere, scarred but lying in wait, always underestimated, always so much deeper than he seems, an ocean that Mother and Father mistook for a puddle, messy and marginal and inconvenient.

“I believe dragons often gravitate towards riders who are mirrors of themselves. Even Vermax, he is…” Jace considers this. “He’s proud, and he’s clever, but he’s not as formidable as he imagines himself to be.”

“Like you,” you say before you can stop to consider whether Jace will be offended by it, and he gives you an amused smirk. The baby has stopped nursing and fallen asleep; you fix the bodice of your gown and cradle him against you. There are maids to take him when you’re tired, and Jace loves holding him, and Lady Caro steals him away often, but right now you don’t want your freedom. You don’t want your mind to be untethered and to wander to all the places you’re not supposed to be.

Jace continues: “What I mean is, perhaps there is some quality you must cultivate within yourself before the beast you are meant to have judges you worthy.”

“Hardly any unclaimed dragons are left now.” Then you tease: “Do you suggest I become quiet and timid so Grey Ghost will like me?”

Jace laughs. “No, I fear that’s a lost cause, princess. You could never be timid.”

You are intrigued. “Then what am I?”

“I think you’re hungry,” Jace decides. “I think you always want more.”

“I never wanted that many things.” Aemond. My family to be safe. And I wanted Vermithor.

“Every line that is drawn, every place you’re told not to go or act you’re not supposed to do, you insist upon overreaching.”

Is that why Aemond and I were so drawn to each other? you think doubtfully. Because it was forbidden? Because it horrified people who climbed high enough to live alongside Targaryens but could never understand them?

“I think Meleys would have been a good match for you,” Jace says after a while. “If she hadn’t already been claimed by Grandmother.”

“And now the Red Queen is dead.” Like Arrax, and Moondancer, and Seasmoke, and probably Sunfyre too. How many dragons will be left when this is over? How many Targaryens? You clutch the baby closer to you; he stirs in his sleep, tiny fingers grasping at nothing. “What sort of rider does Silverwing favor? What could this illiterate drunk Ulf the White possibly have in common with Good Queen Alysanne?”

Jace snickers. “That’s a good question. I’ve been ruminating on it. My theory is that since Silverwing was never ridden into battle, and has always been relatively docile and accustomed to living peacefully near humans, she was attracted to Ulf’s…how to describe it? His lack of military prowess. Or, alternatively, once Vermithor was claimed Silverwing was very, very lonely.”

You smile, and then it dies. It must be indescribably painful to be separated from one’s mate after a century together. Unsurvivable, even. “Can Silverwing fight, do you think?”

Jace heaves a sigh and shrugs. “I’m not sure if either of them can. Ulf will try, at least. Hopefully it won’t come to that, and Vermithor is enough to protect King’s Landing. Hugh Hammer is an inexperienced rider, but he’s brave and he’s committed. Each time I see him he’s better than he was before.”

Hugh Hammer is a bastard blacksmith, but he has more power in this war than I do. Ulf the White is an idiot and a drunk, but he’s a true Targaryen and I’m not. You rock your sleeping child in your arms, quieting the voices that flutter in your skull like bat wings. You kiss his wisps of dark curls and breathe in his warmth and newness and blood that is interwoven with yours.

“You could learn how to hate your own kind and claim the Cannibal,” Jace jokes.

You chuckle. “I don’t hate anyone.” Not here, not now.

Lady Caro arrives in the doorway carrying a tray of cinnamon tea. “I have come offering a trade,” she says, grinning, and shuffles excitedly across the room. She sets the tray down on the table by your chair and holds out her hands. Reluctantly, you surrender the baby. Lady Caro coos and beams at him as you and Jace sip cinnamon tea, sweet and loosing steam like morning mist into the air. “Surely by now you’ve made the logical decision to name him in my honor.”

“Carolei would be a very strange thing to call a boy,” Jace says.

“Caroson,” she jests.

You add: “Carogon. Carocaerys.”

“Awful!” Jace says, laughing.

“Have you been feeding the baby again?” Lady Caro scolds you. “We have wetnurses for that.”

“They get him all night. I want time with him too.”

“You’re barely even producing any milk. You’d make for a terrible goat.”

“Then I’ll nurse him for as long as I can.”

“You’ll end up with pitiful floppy breasts like mine.”

“Isn’t this what they’re for? Nourishing children, not being gawked at and tugged on by some man?”

Lady Caro turns to Jace, exasperated. “She has some disease. She can’t listen to anyone.”

He smiles. “She’s an untamable beast, I’m afraid. Burns up anyone who makes the attempt.”

Lord Corbray walks in, and nestled in his ancient arthritic hands is a sword in a sheath. There is a large heart-shaped ruby in the hilt. “Prince Jacaerys, I cannot begin to tell you what an honor it has been not only to host you and the princess here in our humble castle, but also to have a future king of the Seven Kingdoms born within our walls.”

Jace stands up straighter, as his mother would want him to. He’ll never look like the heir to the throne, like a Targaryen, but he can act like one. “We continue to be grateful for your hospitality.”

“To commemorate this happy occasion, I wish to gift you a cherished heirloom of my house. This is Lady Forlorn, made of Valyrian steel. She came to House Corbray over a century ago, and now I bequeath her to you. I hope she will aid you in your victory in this unjust war, and that all the realm will soon be at peace and under competent rulership.”

Jace looks at you uneasily; you pretend to be preoccupied drinking your tea. You ignore Lord Corbray’s slight against the Greens. You don’t have much choice, and you’ve had plenty of practice. Jace takes Lady Forlorn from Lord Corbray and unsheathes her, studying his reflection in the cold smoke-colored grey of the blade. His face is grave. Now he feels the weight on his shoulders of being not just a prince, an heir, a soldier, and a husband, but a father as well, something he himself never had in a way that was truthful and pure. You are alarmed to see tears gleaming in his dark eyes.

“Jace?” you say, touching his arm.

He regains his composure. “Thank you, Lord Corbray. I will treasure Lady Forlorn, and I will endeavor to always use her wisely.”

Lord Corbray smiles fondly at the slumbering baby in Lady Caro’s arms. Across the Riverlands, their sole surviving child, Jessamyn, is in hiding with her husband and children. At Lady Caro’s insistence, they fled from the Mallisters’ castle at Seagard in case Aemond and Vhagar descend upon it. He is still burning. A monster? you think. “I assume you’ve named your firstborn?”

You and Jace exchange a glance. You haven’t yet; you are afraid to discuss it with each other. There are so many possibilities—Targaryen or Velaryon or Strong—and none seem to be without some unspoken allegiance or condemnation. There are so few guiltless names left. But you think you know what Jace would choose if he dared to speak it aloud.

“We should name him after Luke,” you say. A boy, an innocent. A victim of a horrific accident that started this war.

Jace is surprised, but there is relief in his face too. “Lucerys?” he says, trying it out. Then he is solemn again. “It feels wrong to use the exact same name. Like I’m trying to replace him.”

“Lucerion,” Lady Caro suggests, still holding the baby. “It sounds like a prince’s name. It sounds like a king’s.”

Jace attaches Lady Forlorn to his belt and then takes the baby, obviously against Lady Caro’s will. “Lucerion,” Jace murmurs, smiling down at his son who is stirring awake and beginning to whimper. “Is that your name? Is that what we’ll call you?”

“Perhaps Luca for short,” you say from your chair, feeling drained and like you need to lie down. You’ll have to change your rags again soon, or you’ll bleed through them.

“Luca, the littlest dragon,” Jace proclaims, touching his fingertip to the baby’s puggish nose. Then he turns to you. “Did you have a nickname as a child? I always did and still do, of course. And Luke…” Jace trails off, thinking of his dead brother, murdered by yours.

You see your red bat traveling around the board; you feel the warmth of blood on your cheek. “They called me Red.”

“Red?” Jace is baffled. “Like the color?”

“There was a game we played when we were young, and my piece…” You close your eyes, not wanting to remember, not wanting to feel the weight of their absence. “It doesn’t matter. It was so long ago.” And you fear that Jace will hear the evasiveness in your voice and ask you more questions; but he is absorbed with the baby, and he has already forgotten.

Two days later Jace and Vermax fly south to King’s Landing, and you and Luca are left in the care of the Corbrays and the maids and the ghosts that haunt the drafty stone corridors of Heart’s Home, soldiers killed in the Riverlands and the Reach, women and children burned and starved, bones devoured by dragons, generations of names forgotten.

Sometimes you giggle with Lady Caro as you drink cinnamon tea in the Great Hall. Sometimes you stand in the castle rookery listening to the ravens caw and stare out into the cold mist of the mountains, wondering what is happening in the world outside. And sometimes you have Luca nestled in your arms and walk with him around your bedchamber, introducing him to the faces of the people you left in your old life, when you were called Red and you believed you could be someone like Visenya. But you never mention Aemond, and not just because there are no mosaics of him on the wall.

You wouldn’t know what to say. You wouldn’t know where to begin.

~~~~~~~~~~

You learn Jace is back when he climbs into bed just as you are drifting off one night, silver moonlight spilling in through the glass of the window, his body folding into you, his arm skating over your waist to find your hand and weave his fingers through yours. Two months have passed since he left, moons that grow full and then vanish, milk that dries up and blood that ceases flowing and rebuilds inside you for the next child, if there will be one, when there will be one. Luca is sleeping in his own room with his maids and wetnurses. Jace’s curls tickle your throat as he nuzzles into you as if he wants to disappear.

He says: “The littlest dragon is much bigger than I remember.”

“How was Helaena?”

“Troubled, as is to be expected, but in good health. Jaehaera and Maelor are well too. King’s Landing is cold some days now. I think they’ll have snow soon. The taxes, the riots, the stockpiling of food as the Reach and the Riverlands burn…it’s a disaster. Mother is desperate. She misses Luke, I think. And Baela, and Daemon. She’s lost so much weight I barely recognized her. But she was very, very happy to hear about Luca. Hopefully she can meet him soon. Although we’ll have to be careful traveling with him while he’s so small, we’ll have to ensure he’s warm enough.”

Winter is coming, you think, remembering Cregan Stark’s army under the protection of Daemon and Caraxes. “Did you see Rhaena and the boys at the Eyrie?”

“I did,” Jace admits, as if it was a fraught experience.

“And what happened?”

“Rhaena called me a traitor.”

“For marrying and fathering a son with me?”

“No, that she understands,” Jace says. “But it is treason to love you.”

You turn around to look at him in the shadows, in the moonlight. “You told her?”

“She could tell. I cannot hide it. I am a glass jar and you and Luca are the butterflies inside.” And Jace kisses you softly, his fingers hooked beneath your chin, his flesh coming alive again after so long away: managing and conciliating, lifting Rhaenyra’s spirits, pawing through the heaps of bastards in King’s Landing for dragonriders, flying on Vermax through storms and snow.

When you kiss Jace back, when your hands go to his chest and his jaw and his face, when you open his tunic so you can feel the heat of his skin underneath, you are aware that parts of you are waking up again as well. There is a dull but definite ache of lust beginning to bloom like a blood drop soaking into white cotton.

“Are you…” Jace begins. “Do you think you’re healed enough, I mean…have you stopped bleeding?”

You hesitate. “I have.” You think of your first time with him and how painful it was, the sensation of burning, of tearing, and you can only assume it will be worse now. “But I’m rather terrified too.”

“No, no, don’t be afraid,” Jace whispers, he pleads, running his fingers through your long unbound hair. “We don’t have to do that. I won’t hurt you. I’ll wait for as long as you want.” His dark eyes travel down the white nightgown that clings to your body, your breasts, your belly, and then lower. “Can I…can I try something?”

“Try what?” you ask, bewildered. Then as Jace begins to push the hem of your nightgown up over your hips to your waist, you grin and kiss him again in the dim celestial light, cool night air rushing up over your bare legs, blood surging through your arteries to where he bends low to taste you once—a long, slow, tentative drag of the tongue—and then moans quietly and pushes your thighs further apart so he can bury himself there and lick, suck, swallow down your clear mineral wetness as it pools for him.

Something isn’t quite right—not enough pressure, not the ideal angle—but it’s exquisite to be reacquainted with this side of yourself, to know you can feel this way again, insatiable and desired. When you reach to touch Jace, there is a moment when you are startled to find dark curly hair in place of silk-smooth silver, and there is a ghost in the room like a voyeur watching, and you think dazedly: If Aemond knew about this, would he kill me?

“There,” you gasp, jolting as your husband stumbles upon the perfect place and rhythm. “Jace, right there…”

He listens, he is groaning with desperation for you, and you roll into a climax that is brief and sharp and a little painful, but good. Instead of being extinguished, you are a kindled flame. You turn over, straddle Jace, and unfasten his trousers. You begin kissing your way down his belly, nipping at him, your palm kneading his hardness, and you know he wants you but for some reason when you go to take him in your mouth, he pushes you away.

“You don’t have to do that,” Jace says, alarmed.

“I know. I want to.”

“No, seriously. Stop.”

You look at him, wounded, rejected. “Jace, I’m not doing this out of obligation. I enjoy it.”

He is staring at the wall. “I just…for you to…I’m sorry, it just feels wrong.”

“I can do things you believe are only for whores and still be your wife.”

“Shh,” he says, and his voice is gentle but his face is pained. You think of something Criston once told you when you were collecting bones from the Godswood of the Red Keep: Red, it hurts your mother when you’re like this. Are you cursed to disappoint people, to repulse them, to be eternally misunderstood? “I have a gift for you.”

“A gift?”

Jace gets out of bed and fetches a small wooden box he must have brought into the room with him when you were still half-asleep. He opens the box, debates whether to reach in, decides against it and passes you the whole box instead. “I asked the castle maester to procure some while I was away…”

You squeal with delight when you see what’s inside: three black and white bats the same breed as Sapphire was, large fanlike ears and wiggling noses and small black eyes that peer curiously up at you. When you offer them your open palms, they immediately scramble into them.

“I hope they’re good ones.” Jace chuckles nervously. “I don’t really know what makes a bat suitable or not.”

“They’re perfect,” you say, smiling. “I’ll build them a roost. I’ll introduce them to Luca.”

Yet you cannot stop yourself from thinking: Aemond wouldn’t have cared if I was still bleeding.

~~~~~~~~~~

You are snuggled up with Luca in your chair by the fire, cool midday light—the color of steel, smoke, rainclouds, ash—streaming in through the windows. The baby’s eyes have turned dark like Jace’s, and his curls grow longer. He is only half-awake and blinking drowsily, his diminutive hands clasping your fingers. He doesn’t cry often, but he doesn’t smile either. Lady Caro believes he already has the temperament of a good king, a calmness, a graveness. She says: How improper would it be for him to be full of complaints or cheerfulness, the way the world is right now? No, he ought to be serious. He ought to be grateful he’s not starving or being roasted alive.

“I have some new friends,” you whisper to the baby like a secret or a myth. “They’re asleep right now. They sleep all day, kind of like you do. But then at night they come alive and they’re free, and they fly around like hawks or dragons.”

You speak for Luca, a soft bird-trill of a voice: “What are their names?”

“Good question,” you say, smiling. “Iris, Shark, and Flood. And you’ll meet them soon.” Your eyes go to the mosaics on the walls. Jace hasn’t asked you to take them down, but he doesn’t acknowledge them either, except for the mosaic you made of him that hangs by the headboard of the bed. He beams at that one and calls it fine work. “You’ll meet the people I grew up with too. Aegon will make you wood carvings. Helaena will sew you blankets. Daeron will take you on adventures. Jaehaera and Maelor will play games with you. And Mother and Criston will love you because you won’t be like me. You’ll be sweet-tempered and honorable, and when you’re old enough you’ll have a dragon to help protect us with.”

There is a knock on the doorframe; one of Luca’s wetnurses has arrived to feed him. You regret that you can’t anymore. Lady Caro was right; you’d be a terrible goat or cow or yak.

“Princess,” the wetnurse says, curtsying before she takes the baby from you. You watch her leave with him for his own bedchamber—Lady Caro has already filled it with toys and children’s books—and as soon as they are out of sight, the darkness of your losses creeps back in like spiders scurrying down the corridors of your veins and arteries, like rust growing over steel. Then you hear the rumbling of voices downstairs in the Great Hall.

You stand and swish in your gown—one of the Vale’s anemic colors, a faint dusky rose—through the hallway and down the spiral staircase of the tower. In the belly of the castle, the commotion is louder, and you sweep into the Great Hall to find men gathered around the table closest to the roaring hearth, Lord Corbray and his knights and the maester, and Lady Caro too looking on anxiously. Jace is holding a piece of parchment in his hands, presumably just delivered by a raven. He shakes his head as he reads it. Outside, snow is falling.

Lady Caro is saying: “Well you’ll have to tell her. Oh, the poor dear, as if everything else isn’t bad enough. And only the gods know where Aemond is, he hasn’t been spotted in the Riverlands for days…” Then she spies you and shoos Lord Corbray and his men from the room. They bow to you as they depart, swift little bobs of the head. They have to; you are now both the wife and mother of future kings.

“Jace?” you say when the Great Hall is empty except for the two of you and Lady Caro.

Jace’s face is stricken. Lady Forlorn hangs from his belt. The letter is still clutched in his left hand; the right grips the hilt of his Valyrian steel sword. “I’m so sorry.”

“What?” you ask, immediately horrified. Aegon dead of his burns, Daeron killed in battle, Mother executed for treason, Aemond…? “What happened?”

“You have to believe that I had no idea about any of this, I never would have given Hugh the order if I’d been there, or let Mother do it—”

“Jace, please tell me.”

Aemond, Aemond, Aemond??

Instead, Jace says absurdly: “It’s Helaena.”

You stare at him. “Helaena isn’t a warrior.”

“No,” he agrees. “But she got to Dreamfyre somehow and tried to escape the city.”

“Alone?”

“Yes.”

That’s impossible. She wouldn’t leave Mother and the children. “No, she couldn’t have, she—”

“She took flight,” Jace insists. “And my mother sent Hugh Hammer after her on Vermithor.”

Vermithor was supposed to be mine, you think numbly. “And Helaena, she…she was…?”

Jace is trying to keep his voice steady; his dark eyes gleam, begging you not to hate him. “Dreamfyre attacked when Vermithor flew close to her. She wasn’t an especially aggressive dragon, but she was large and formidable, and she fought to defend her own life and that of her rider. Vermithor ripped out her throat, though Hugh was burned to death in the saddle. Then Vermithor flew eastward, and no one knows where he is now. Dreamfyre crashed to the earth, and Helaena with her. Their bodies were found on the beach outside the Red Keep.”

She can’t be dead. She never hurt anyone. She just wanted to be with her creatures and her family. She embroidered my blankets with red bats, she put ladybugs into my open palms. “Why would Helaena try to run, why would she do that?”

“I don’t know.”

You think nonsensically, as you have no way of knowing this: Because she was trying to stop something terrible from happening. “I told you to give her more freedom. And that freedom allowed her to sneak away to the Dragonpit.”

Jace reaches for you. “This isn’t your fault—”

“All of it is my fault!” you shout at him, and Lady Caro shrinks away and covers her mouth with her hands. “If I’d had Vermithor, the Greens would have been unstoppable! And Rhaenyra never would have tried to claim the throne, and Aemond wouldn’t have been sent to Storm’s End, and Luke and Jaehaerys and Baela wouldn’t have died, and Aegon wouldn’t have been burned, and Aemond wouldn’t be destroying the Riverlands, and Helaena would still be alive, but instead I’ve always been useless!”

“You aren’t useless,” Jace pleads.

“Not normal enough to be a good wife or daughter, not extraordinary enough to have a dragon!”

Again, Jace tries to touch you, to soothe you. “Please don’t—”

You fling his hands away. “What was our marriage for if not to stop this from happening?! To end the dying, to protect the people we have left?” You whirl away from him and flee from the Great Hall, the castle, yourself. Behind you, Lady Caro is comforting Jace with soft tenderness you’ve never been capable of.

“Let her go, my prince,” she is counselling. “Give her a moment to grieve…”

You throw open the first door you pass and trudge out into the snow, no fox fur coat, bare feet. The cold stings and then your skin goes numb and it doesn’t bother you anymore. The icy mountain wind tears at your hair, flowing in long waves like the women of the Vale wear it, delicate and feminine, pretty and powerless. Tears cascade down your face; currents of red magma scorch your throat. When you close your eyes, you see the yellow butterfly that was once Helaena’s game piece.

She never hurt anyone. She never did anything wrong.

Now you are under the shadows of the soaring pine trees, their green needles so thick you cannot see the grey of the sky.

She never met Luca.

You gaze up into the branches, covered with tufts of white snow and icicles like fangs, and you have the overwhelming, ravenous feeling that you need to go home. You don’t belong in the Vale. The Vale almost killed you when you were a child, Aemond’s hands shoving you into a rushing stream freckled with ice.

And then all at once—like you’ve been hit, like you’ve been stabbed with a blade—you are flying high above the castle and the wind is raking over your cheeks, but it is not your face but Aemond’s, half-blind and half-scarred, torrential red waves of a sea of blood in his skull.

He’s here, he’s here—

And if he’s able to see through your eyes that you are outside in the forest…

The castle!!!

You bolt through the trees back towards Heart’s Home, your bare feet leaving tracks in the fresh powdery snow that is nearly up to your knees, and you stumble out of the shadows just as Vhagar soars overhead and unleashes her flames on the castle, wood burning, stones collapsing, people inside shrieking as they incinerate. You’re screaming for Aemond to stop, but he does not hear you and he does not see you either, he is high above in a place you’ve never been and never will be, he is flying, and he is hearing only devastation and he is breathing in its dark, intoxicating smoke, and as Vhagar swoops by the stable and it bursts into an inferno—horses galloping loose and engulfed in fire, dead but not knowing it yet—you run into the crumbling castle.

“Jace?!” you shout, but the air is full of smoke and the sounds of wood cracking and stones caving in are deafening. You feel blindly for the spiral staircase that leads up to the tower where your and Luca’s bedchambers are located. From the part of the castle that was once the Great Hall, you can hear Lord Corbray and Lady Caro screaming as their skin blisters and sloughs away and their flesh is cooked and their bones are charred black, and when the flames reach their lungs the screams go quiet. You cannot think about them. You don’t have any time; you must think of Luca and Jace. “Jace!” you bellow through the smoke.

And then there is a weak reply: “Here.”

You follow it into the stairwell. Parts of the wall have been blasted away; you can see the pine forest outside, the cold barren sky, the Mountains of the Moon. Jace is halfway up the steps, slumped against the fractured wall and pinned there by stones that have rained down on his legs. His bones must be broken; his face is bloodless and his curls matted to his forehead by sweat. His right hand fumbles futilely for the hilt of Lady Forlorn. Now, dimly, you can hear Luca crying.

Jace rasps as he stares vacantly up at you: “I tried to get to him. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Jace, I can do it.”

“I love you.”

“I’ll be right back.”

You climb over him and chase Luca’s wails up the staircase. Vhagar is back, and the ruins of the castle tremble when she roars, and you feel the heat of her flames radiating up through the floor. You lose your footing and clamber up the last few steps on your hands and knees, then manage to stand again and careen into Luca’s room. Half the roof has collapsed; a wetnurse is sprawled on the floor and half-buried in fallen stones, blood hemorrhaging out of her mouth and ears. You grab the baby out of his cradle and quickly bundle him in his blanket patterned with blue dragonflies. His tiny hands grasp at your face and your hair as you rush back down the spiral staircase to help Jace. Smoke needles your eyes; you and Luca are both coughing as you try to clear your lungs.

You reach Jace and kneel beside him, holding Luca in your left arm and using your right to try to roll the stones off Jace’s legs, but he’s not helping you.

“Jace, please, we have to go now,” you say, but when you look at his face he’s not there. His dark eyes are glassy, his chest doesn’t rise and fall with the tide of air.

He’s gone, you think. Like Father, Luke, Jaehaerys, Baela, Rhaenys, Helaena. And you are struck by an excruciating pang of fondness for Jace more forceful than anything you ever felt for him when he was alive, and you cannot leave him here. He was your husband, he was Luca’s father. And he loved you. He must have. He said it over and over again.

“Jace?” you sob. But outside Vhagar is still flying—the gales churned up by her wings gust into the jagged holes in the castle walls—and she could be coming back, she could be returning to burn you, and Jace is dead but the baby is still alive.

You clutch Luca to you as he cries and you race down the steps, following the smoke-filled, twisted passageway. The heat is suffocating, the sounds of a dying castle engulfing, Heart’s Home turned into a graveyard, into a shattered skeleton, charred and cursed like Harrenhal. You crash through the door at the base of the stairwell and into the ground level of the castle, and you are almost out—

Something ignites, something explodes, and stones from the castle wall you are feeling your way along rip out of their centuries-old mortar and collide with you. Your ribs crack, you are thrown to the floor, but even as you scream and claw your way out of the rubble you don’t let go of the baby. You force yourself upright and stagger with Luca towards a gaping chasm where there was once a wall. There is a tremor like an earthquake. Outside, Vhagar must be landing.

Now you are in the snow again, bare feet and a gown covered with soot and wreckage. The baby isn’t crying anymore. When you glance down at the blanket he is swaddled in, the white space between the blue dots of dragonflies is turning red with blood.

Blood?

You can’t look. You can’t allow yourself to feel it; it will consume you until there is nothing left. The last vestiges of the castle are crumpling. Across the field, Vhagar is devouring Vermax’s small, broken corpse, crushing his bones in her massive, monstrous jaws.

Blood??

Aemond’s footsteps are behind you, crunching in the snow. His cloak cracks in the frigid wind like the sails of a ship. His words are full of dark, euphoric, lethal triumph, a high like nothing he’s ever known, not even when he claimed Vhagar, not even what he imagined he would feel on your wedding day when you’d be bound to each other with fire and blood in the tradition of Old Valyria. “I said I would find you, and I did.”

You hear your own voice as if from a very far distance, lightning strikes miles away but moving closer. “You killed him.”

Aemond is puzzled. You are supposed to be happy. You are saved, you are home. “Killed who?”

“He’s dead, and there will never be another. Not like this one. Jace was his father, but Jace is gone. You killed him too.”

And you turn to face him, and Aemond sees what you are holding in your arms, and only then does he understand.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #jace velaryon x reader #jace x you #jace x reader #jace velaryon #jacaerys x you #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys velaryon

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lostbookmark · 25 days ago

Text

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence,

A/N: So, regarding next week's chapter. I have it done. However, I leave for ‘vacation’ next Sunday. I use that term loosely, lol. I'm going to a theme park with my sister and her family for three days. I'm the only one willing to ride big rides with my older nephew. {Hello Nausea}

Anyway, to be transparent, I'm having a horrible case of writer's block right now. Not just with this but across my entire library of works in progress. I've walked away from here to work on other stories, and I've just been constantly writing, deleting, and repeat. I know you won't care, but unless I can figure out chapter 14, I might hold off on posting chapter 13 until June 14th just to give myself a little more time. Anyhoo, I appreciate you guys!! 💙🩷💚💜

Super light smut below!

Angrily, you open the door to your brother's office with the water jug from the refrigerator in your hand. With wide eyes, he looks at you in confusion as you shake it at him. He holds his hands up and shrugs his shoulders in confusion, and you huff.

“Fill the damn thing up when it gets low,” you tell him.

“How do you know it was me?” He asks, defending himself. “Maybe it was dad.”

“Nice try,” you snap. “Did you forget we used to live together?”

“I forgot, sorry” he apologizes, from where he sits from behind his desk.

“It's little things like filling a damn water jug that Elly will appreciate,” you say. “You found someone who loves you. I don't know why she loves you, but she does. So, don't fuck it up by not filling up the damn jug.”

“Do you need to talk?” He asks, leaning forward on his elbows, resting on the wooden surface of his desk.

“No,” you deny, quickly, and turn on your heel. “I’ll take care of it this time. Just stop being lazy.”

Leaving his office, you go back into the break room and place the jug into the sink. Turning the tap on, you wait as it fills with cold water before placing it back into the refrigerator. Shutting the door maybe a little too hard, you look at the pictures that decorated the door secured by construction themed magnets that ‘Nicky’ had gotten your dad for his birthday one year. You don't know who chose what pictures to display, but it was certainly a variety. Most were you and your brothers at different stages in your childhood on job sites, but then there were more personal. Chris and Elly's engagement photo, Nicky's baby picture, and there was even one of your mom and dad when they were younger. It was when your dad took the company over from his father, and your older brother was on your mother's hip sucking on his fist. It makes you smile. You've heard the story so many times.

“There, she is,” Elly says. Turning to her voice, you stand a bit straighter when she holds the door open for Yoongi, who is wearing his work clothes and glasses. You've never seen him in glasses. Damn it! He looked good! “She hasn't had lunch today. Don't let her tell you otherwise. She gets an hour.”

“Thanks,” he says, nodding softly at her.

“Yeah….thanks,” you say, smiling tightly at her.

Waving innocently at you, she leaves the two of you alone, letting the door shut behind her. You and Yoongi look at each other, both not sure what to say. Yoongi holds his hand out for you to take, and for a slight moment, you hesitate before stepping forward and sliding your hand into his palm. Holding you securely, he guides you down the hall and past your desk where Elly waves happily at you. Flipping her off, she laughs and goes back into her office.

“Where are we going?” You ask. “I need my bag.”

“Nope,” he says. “We are having lunch at my place.”

“But….,” you say, looking around as the two of you step out of the building and continue to walk to his vehicle. “I've never been to your place.”

“I'm not far from here,” he replies, opening your door for you. Staring at him, he motions for you to get in. “I made us some sandwiches this morning. Let's get going.”

Giving in, you slide into his car much like you did before you two had your little falling out yesterday. Buckling yourself in, you place your hands in your lap and literally twiddle your thumbs waiting for him. As he slides into the driver's seat and gets himself situated, he reaches over and stops your nervous fidgeting. Looking at you, he arches an eyebrow in question.

“What?” You ask.

“Do you want to come with me?” He asks softly. “I'm not going to force you.”

“It's fine,” you say, acting like you didn't care either way, making him nod his head, but on the inside, you were shaking. You were headed into an unfamiliar territory. Someplace where you didn't have the advantage of just walking away comfortably. You bet that's why he planned this. He is starting to read you better than you thought. “I didn't know you lived out by my dad's company.”

“Well, I didn't know exactly where you worked until yesterday. You always said you worked for your dad, but you never gave the name of the company,” he explained, finally driving away. “I guess we need to start to get to know each other more.”

“I guess so,” you say, non committedly.

“Like your dads company is one of the top construction companies in our region,” he comments.

“Is it?” You act dumb.

“Not that that matters to me, but he seemed surprised that I didn't know that when we were talking yesterday,” he explains, and you shrug.

“It's not my money. So, what does it matter?” You say.

“I'm not with you for your family's money,” he comments. “You didn't have to hide it.”

Yoongi takes a turn and pulls up to a huge metal gate where he enters a code into a black box, making the gate open. Looking at him with wide eyes, you shake your head and give him a look of disgust.

“What?” He asks as he drives along the road, passing by expensive looking pristine homes.

“You live in an expensive ass gated community, and you need funding for the team?” You ask. “Was I scammed? That yard has a fountain out front!”

“You were not scammed,” he laughs. “Jungkook…. Coach Jeon and I are roommates, along with another friend. I couldn't afford a place like this on my own.”

“Does he know?” You ask, suddenly alert of your surroundings. You look out of all the windows of his car to see if you have been spotted. “I don't think I should go in.”

“He knows,” he confirms and pulls into a driveway. “It's okay. No one else is home.”

Yoongi gets out of the car and walks around the vehicle, opening the door for you, but you don't move. He sighs and reaches in to undo your seatbelt for you. Surrendering, you step out of his car and follow him. His neighborhood was nice, you guess. The houses all seemed to be the same in a scary matching way. Nothing seemed out of place, no kids toys, no sounds, very …. eerie. It's very different from what you had grown up with. You're assuming it's probably an HOA where everything had to be perfect and boring.

Kicking your shoes off, you follow him to the kitchen, where he pulls out a chair at the island. Pointing to it, you sit down, and he goes to retrieve the sandwiches that he made for the two of you that morning. Placing them on the countertop, he goes back to gather several other items.

“You didn't have to make me lunch,” you say. “I had a poptart in my bag.”

He turned from the fridge to give you a look, and you shut your mouth.

“I kept the condiments off,” he said, setting everything out before you and settling into the seat next to you. “Kook and I smoked some meat last night…”

“God, you really are perfect,” you mutter, more to yourself.

“Obviously not since I keep finding some way to ruin it,” he responds as he pushes his food away from him. “What I said wasn't directed at you or Nicky.”

“I know,” you say, looking at your food and feeling your mouth water.

“But that also doesn't mean that I don't see you as his parent because I do…. because you are his parent,” he explains, and you nod your head, wondering if you want to put some bbq sauce on the meat.

You kind of do.

It's the expensive kind.

“I know,” you agree, eyeing the bbq sauce and pickles. “It's a tough situation. I got too pissy over it, and I shouldn't have. I need to work on that.”

“I made a decision,” he says, reaching out to move your face, bringing your attention solely to him. “Next basketball season, I'm not going to coach.”

“What?” You ask, surprised at the words that came out of his mouth. “Yoongi, no!”

“It's gotten so stressful,” he admits.

“Because of me,” you say, standing from your chair and backing away.

“NO!” He exclaims, standing as well and grabbing you so you couldn't get away. “Not because of you.”

“Ara?” You ask, and he nods. “And I keep poking the damn bear.”

“Yeah, she blew my phone up about that last night,” he tells you. “She wanted to warn me that her husband must have told you about our little… you know. I can't block her. I wish I could, but I can't.”

“Don't quit,” you beg. “Nicky looks up to you so much. If you quit, I don't think he will play next year.”

“But it stresses you out so much,” he says, sitting back down his seat and that guilt that has been building finally feels like it explodes. “I hate seeing you… ostracized and not being able to do anything about it.”

“Wait, so you ….are…. you going to quit…. for me?” You ask, poking your finger into his chest. He stares at you but doesn't answer. Rolling your eyes, you sit back down and grab your sandwich, deciding to go with the pickles and bbq sauce. “That is the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

“Why?” He asks, sounding offended. “I would still run the program. I just wouldn't coach.”

“I am not worth all that,” you say, biting into the smoky meat.

Fuck!

It was heavenly.

“To me you are,” he argues.

“Well, I'm not going to let you quit coaching for me,” you argue back, taking another bite. “Those boys need you.”

“So,” he pauses and looks down at the kitchen floor. “Is this it for us?”

“What?” You ask, wiping your mouth. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you breaking up with me?” He clarifies his previous questions.

“Are you kidding me?” You say rolling your eyes. “You're amazing in bed, and you can cook. Why would I break up with you?”

“I’m not joking?” He responds.

“I'm not either,” you sigh, putting your food down. Hopping off your seat, you move to stand between his legs and pull him down to look him in the eyes. You guess it was now or never. “I like you, Yoongi. You're, like, really great, and you're really patient with me. I know I’m a handful…. Damn it, I'm not good with this shit…Mmhmmmhh…”

Yoongi covers your mouth with his own, cutting off your attempt at telling him how you feel, and you couldn't be more thankful.

“You should finish eating,” he mumbles against your lips, and your eyes shoot up to his questioningly. “Quickly.”

Swallowing thickly, you nod.

“How much time?” You ask breathlessly as you wiggle on top of his bed.

“Seven minutes,” he answers with his face pressed against your neck sans glasses. “You need to hurry, doll.”

“I'd rather come with something else inside me,” you tease, pressing your hips further against his hand that was working away between your thighs.

“Are you complaining?” He asks, pushing his digits further inside of you, making you cry out. “Sounds like you like it to me.”

“Oh shit, Yoongi!” You exclaim, rolling your eyes back and pressing your head back into his pillow. “Right there.”

“You're a fucking vision, doll,” his rasps against your skin. “Six minutes and we need to be out that door. Come on my fucking fingers right now.”

Gritting your teeth and closing your eyes. Your core tightens around the length of his fingers, causing you to sob out loudly. Your walls pulsate and flutter around and wet his fingers as you float away from your body for a moment.

“Yoongi,” you sigh, coming back down.

“I know,” he says, rolling on his back and throwing an arm over his face to calm himself down. “Damn, I know.”

“What about you?” You ask, panting, looking down at his obvious bulge confined in his dress pants.

“It will go away,” he says, wiping his hand on his blanket.

“That doesn't seem fair,” you say, rolling onto your side to study him.

“I got something better,” he tells you, mimicking your movement and putting his hand on your naked hip. “I got you to admit that you liked me.”

Rolling your eyes, you lightly push him, making him fall back on his back as you get out of his bed and reach for your skirt. Stepping into it, you tuck your now slightly wrinkled blouse in and look around for your discarded underwear.

“Looking for these?” He asks, dangling them off his finger but snatches them away when you go to grab them.

“Give them back,” you say. “I still have to work.” Laughing, he tosses them back to you and quickly you put them on and run your fingers through your hair fixing what you could. “Am I presentable?”

“You look more relaxed,” he says, rolling off the bed, then proceeds to make his way into his attached bathroom . “We might need to make this a daily thing.”

“In your dreams,” you say and look at his alarm clock on his dresser. “I prefer it when we both enjoy it.”

“Oh, I enjoyed it,” he smirks, coming back out and kissing you. Taking your hand, he leads you through the house and back out to his car. Looking around once more, as he backouts once more, you make him laugh. “What?”

“What?” You ask back.

“You made a face,” he says, pulling forward to drive straight.

“Did I?” You ask.

“Do I not live up to your standard?” He jokes, rubbing your thigh quickly before pulling his hand away as you reach the gate you entered to exit.

“To my standard?” You ask back. “You have been in my little shoe box, right? The three of us are pretty much on top of each other when we are in the same room.”

“Don’t act like you probably didn't grow up in a neighborhood like the one I live in,” he says, focusing on the road.

“I didn't,” you disagree, and you see his brows furrow. “I mean. I did, but not like that. Our neighborhood was fun growing up. We were friends with all of our neighbors. My mom would throw these bbqs and pool parties in the summer and invite everyone. It used to be so much fun.”

“I bet,” he smiles.

“There was this group of boys in the neighborhood. They were awful,” you say laughing. “And for me to say they were awful means they were awful. The summer I turned fourteen, my grandma bought this pink polka dot bikini. It wasn't revealing or anything, but I had spent weeks building up my confidence to wear it during that bbq.”

“What happened?” He asks, turning into the parking lot of your work.

“One of those boys,” you say with an eye roll. “Decided to untie the top, and it completely fell off me. I was so embarrassed. I ran into the house crying and locked myself in my room. My brother was so pissed. He….”

You let your story die out as you look down at your lap. That familiar lump in your throat starts to form, making you bite your lip in an attempt to distract yourself.

“Nicky's dad?” He asks.

You nod your head and cover your face once you feel yourself start to break. You can hear the click of his seatbelt before you feel the warmth of his arm surrounding you. Shaking your head again, you try to pull away from him, but his arms keep you close to him.

“Shh, it's okay,” he whispers against your hair.

“I'm sorry,” you say into your hands. “It still hurts.” Yoongi reaches over and undoes your seat belt. Grabbing your wrists, he gently removes your hands from your face and completely removes the seatbelt from your body. “I don't want to talk about it.”

“We don't have to,” he says, moving his head to try and get you to look at him, but you keep trying to look everywhere except in his direction. “I want you to remember what I said.”

“What?” You ask, looking at him.

“I'm here to help you carry that weight on your shoulders,” he says. “I'm here whenever you're ready.” Wrapping your arms around him once again, he buries his face against your neck in the exact same spot it was less than ten minutes ago. “And by the way, I like your little shoe box. It’s nice and homey.”

A knock on Yoongi's window has the two of you pulling apart, and you look over his shoulder to see your brother wagging his finger at you and then tapping his watch. You pull a face at him and shake your head.

“I guess that's my not so subtle cue time's up,” you say.

“Are you going to be okay?” Yoongi asks.

“Yeah, don't worry about me,” you say distractedly, watching your brother, who was still watching you. You try to wave him away, but he just crosses his arms and waits impatiently for you. “I swear I hate him.”

“I really am sorry,” he says again. “I didn't mean to offend you.”

“I know,” you say, kissing him quickly before you open the door and step out. Leaning back down, you look into the car. “You're not going to quit, right?”

“No, I don't think I could,” he admits. “I'm just hoping our little problem will just… take care of itself one day.”

“I told you. I can just lay low,” you offer. “I have plenty of substitutes that can be there in my place.”

“I can appreciate you wanting to spend time with one another, but you need to take over for Elly,” Chris says, popping his head over your shoulder. “She and I have a meeting to get to.”

“Remind me to elope if I ever get married,” you say, trying to sound annoyed.

“You hear that,” Chris says, looking at Yoongi, making your blonde boyfriend laugh.

Gasping, you shut the door and chase after your little brother the best you could in your heels until the two of you disappear into the building. Unfortunately, the little shit was too fast for you, and he was able to lock himself in his office before you could catch him.

“How was lunch?” Elly asks as she walks by.

“Good,” you answer. “Better than good even.”

“Dessert…. good?” She asks slyly.

“Absolutely,” you reply.

“That's disgusting,” Chris yells from his office.

“That's what you get,” you yell back and head back to your desk.

Groaning, you sit down and log into your computer, trying to figure out how you were going to show your face at practice tonight. Fuck your brother, man.

Little brothers suck.

You were barely one step into the gym when Mark was shaking his head at you. Tilting your head at him, you nod your head backward, and he nods, but you couldn't get turned around fast enough before you were descended upon.

“Y/N,” one mom said, running over to you and latching onto your arm. “Thank goodness you are here. We were so worried that you were not going to come.”

“Why wouldn't I be here?” You question as she drags you over to the bleachers where all the other moms were waiting standing around. Except for Ara, who was sitting and glaring at you. “What is going on?”

“We had no idea about your…. situation,” mom number 2 says, whispering the last part.

“My situation?” You ask, your eyes darting around nervously.

“You being a widow,” mom number one answers, and your eyes widen. “We wanted to help you and Nicky out.”

“Oh….,”you try, but they don't let you get very far.

“I made you a chicken parmesan casserole that can be frozen for up to three months. I wrote the instructions down for you to follow when you're ready to eat,” she says, handing you a tin foiled pan.

“I made you four different soups,” a mom you never talked to before said, handing you a tote bag with four frozen bags of soups. “They too are good for three months. Just pop one in a large pan when you're ready. You can't mess it up.”

“Is everything okay over here?” Yoongi asks, shouldering his way through the bodies of the moms surrounding you.

“No, Coach Min,” mom number one says, crossing her arms and staring him down. “Did you know she's a ….. widow?”

Yoongi looks at you, and you look at him. The two of you just stand there blinking at one another, not saying anything.

“A widow?” He asks, looking confused and biting his lower lip

“She lost her husband,” mom number two explains.

“I know what it means,” Yoongi says. “This is news to me.”

“Well, we've come together to help her and Nicky,” she continues. “I can't cook, but my husband owns Mario's Pizza, and I got three large Pizza doughs for you.”

“Umm,” you say nervously, looking to Yoongi to stop them, but he looks amused.

“I'm so sorry for your loss, Y/N,” he says with a straight face. “Let me know if you need anything.”

Mark jumps up to grab the bag she was trying to hand you, as you still look at Yoongi, who slightly smirks and walks away, leaving you to deal with this situation. You don't even know what to do right now. Mom, after mom keeps giving bags and containers for your new friend to hold. Poor Mark looked like he was about to drop everything.

“Umm, thank you, ladies,” you say. “Nicky and I appreciate this so much. Mark and I will take everything out to my car. Thank you so, so, so much!”

Quickly, you turn with Mark right on your heels and head out of the gym. Walking as fast as you could, you scurry through the halls and make it out to your car. Placing your bags down, you unlock your car and open your door. Mark places everything inside your vehicle for you as you watch him, chewing on your thumb nail.

“I didn't know,” Mark starts, scuffing his foot against the asphalt. “I thought maybe you were divorced, but I didn't think you lost your husband.”

“I'm an awful person,” you confess. “A horrible, horrid person.”

“Why?” He asks, clearly confused.

“I'mnotawidow,” you mumble quickly with your hand over your mouth.

“Can you repeat that?” He asks, leaning in close to you.

“I'm not a widow,” you say, looking around, and he straightens back up, and you kick the ground. “Nicky isn't even mine.”

“I'm sorry,” he says, shaking his head, still trying to understand what was going on.

“He's my nephew,” you continue. “His parents passed away earlier this year.”

“Oh,” he replies, rubbing the back of his neck. “I'm sorry. Why keep it a secret?”

“Frankly,” you shrug. “It's nobody's business. He doesn't want to talk about it or get treated differently. So, we just kind of…. went along with it when people assumed I was his mom.”

“Yeah, no, I understand,” he says. “I won't say anything. The ammunition they would have thinking you lied to them on purpose.”

“I appreciate it,” you tell him. “Does it make me awful for keeping the food? I can't cook, and that stuff looks pretty good.”

“No,” he says, shutting your door. The two of you start to make your way back to the school. “You still had a loss, so I think keeping the food would still be appropriate.”

Smiling guiltily up at him you couldn't help but feel awful.

You were growing a heart.

Damn it!

“It's not funny,” you say, plopping down on the couch next to a laughing Yoongi.

“It's hilarious,” he replies.

“It's awesome,” Nicky says. “Those moms can cook!”

“This is not going to end well,” you moan, looking up at the ceiling. “I've dug myself into a huge hole. Not only am I dating a coach on the team. I'm dating the president of the program. My dad is going to fund the program next year, and now I'm a widow…. of my brother!”

Nicky and Yoongi burst out laughing, and you rub your hands over your face in misery.

“They looked so excited to help you too,” Yoongi says as he stops laughing.

“Don't tell them the truth,” Nicky says, getting up off the floor. “They might take their food back.”

The two you watch as he walks out of the room and Yoongi pulls you to lean back against him.

“Are you going to stay tonight?” You ask, threading your fingers through his.

“I shouldn't,” he answers.

“Why?” You question, craning your neck up to look at him.

“Because, I know what it will lead to,” he explains, and you look offended. “You're louder than what you think, doll. I'm paranoid that someone will wake up.”

This time you laugh.

“What if I promise to keep my clothes on and just…. repay the favor from earlier?” You ask, biting your bottom lip.

Yoongi drops his head to his shoulder in thought, pursing his lips.

“I think maybe we can do that,” he says, nodding his head. “I mean. You could…. lose the shirt, though.”

“Oh, sure, of course,” you laugh, turning to kiss him.

“I really am…” he starts, but you cut him off.

“If you apologize again. I swear to god,” you sigh. “Listen, I made Nicky promise me that if at any time he was uncomfortable with us being together. I would end it. I'm going to make you promise me the same thing. If at any time you get tired of Nicky being a part of me. Just…. let me go.”

“Nicky is great,” Yoongi says. “I swear it wasn't directed at you.”

“I know,” you tell him. “Just promise me.”

“I promise,” he nods. “It won't happen, but I promise.”

Throwing your arms around him. He wraps his around your waist, holding you to him tightly. Trusting him is becoming easier. Believing him is becoming easier. Wanting him to stay by your side is becoming easier.

“Are you going home first?” You ask, pulling away a little bit to look at him.

“Nope,” he answers, and you give him a look. “I might have started to pack a just in case bag.”

“Oh, really?” You ask and he nods. “Good.”

“Yeah?” He questions, almost like he was surprised.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

This was big. It actually wasn't big at all but felt huge. It felt like he was becoming a permanent fixture in your little metaphorical shoe box . You just hope that he wants to stay because you want him to.

Holy shit!

You want him to stay.

《Chapter 13》

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