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w1ldthoughts · 2 months

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Minor Ear-Mergency

Anon Requested

Masterlist

“Are you sure you don’t want to change out of your pjs? You can wear your gameday outfit, I know it’s your favorite.”

The toddler in front of you shakes her head, “no thank you. I want to wear this for the game.”

You shrug, grabbing the black ‘Bolt Up’ lightning rod shirt and blue pants with the #10 iron-on patches on the side. Remi wore these clothes every Sunday…without fail. So today’s answer was a rare occasion to put it lightly, but you didn’t want to push her first thing in the morning so you let her do whatever felt right. You even opted to stay in your pajamas as well, in solidarity of course.

The next time you gave her a funny look was when she barely ate her cheesy eggs and complained of having a headache an hour later. By the time the two of you sat on the couch for kickoff at 1:25 pm California time, she was half asleep. One of her arms was wrapped around you, as best as she could with your belly in the way, while the other one was securely holding on to her stuffed animal.

Even though she barely knew what was going on, she loved watching her dad on tv so you knew something was off. Your continuous suspicions were confirmed with one simple act of placing your hand on her forehead and checking her temperature.

“My ear is hurting me,” her pitiful cries and groans of pain have you on the phone with the pediatrician at the start of the fourth quarter. She gave you little home remedies to try and scheduled Remi for an 11 o’clock appointment the next morning. You could practically hear Justin in your ear lightly scolding you for not having an extra bottle of children’s Motrin in the house, but the universe was secretly on your side because the one in your hand was just enough for a few full servings. Long after the medicine should have kicked in your daughter still had fresh tears rolling down her cheeks, sniffling like she was trying to bite down the sadness.

“Oh sweets, is your ear still bothering you?”

She gently shakes her head no, scared to make any sudden movements in case that would make the pain return. “I need daddy but he’s not here,” she whimpers, leaning on your arm and practically using your sleeve as a tissue.

“I know baby. But he’ll be back tonight and you’ll see him as soon as you wake up,” you sigh, knowing that isn’t what she wants to hear. Feeling like it was your duty as a mom to come up with a solution, you sat there for a minute, running your fingers through her hair until it hit you. “I have an idea,” she stares back at you, her eyes a little wide with anticipation, “I’ll be right back. You stay here.”

Desperate times call for desperate measures.

Remi allowed you to be out of her sight long enough to throw one of Justin’s shirts in the dryer for her to rest her head on, smiling to yourself when she let you know that she still missed her daddy, but this was good enough until she got to see him in the morning. Adding another baby to the chaos was a daunting idea in moments like this where although you loved your husband and this life that the two of you had built, you were alone…a lot. You had to think on your feet alone, a lot. And of course he did everything in his power to be an active parent and husband when he was home but that didn’t change the fact that right now you had a sick child to take care of and he was on the other side of the country getting chased by grown men in tights. That thought had you chuckling to yourself, thinking about two extremes, drowning Remi’s tears and snot or praying that the offensive line would keep him upright for the better part of three hours.

Justin came home later that evening, leaving his shoes by the door and tiptoeing around the house. When you texted him before the flight home that Remi wasn’t feeling well there was a pit in his stomach at the fact that he wasn’t there. He knew you could handle it but that didn’t take away his feeling of being a terrible partner. There is always an upside and a downside to things, especially being a working parent who’s job is more demanding than the average person and you never made him feel bad about it or tried to use it against him. But his mind sometimes allowed him to think of the worst case scenario. He never wanted to miss any moment, not with you and definitely not with Remi and even the little things like an earache made him want to drop everything and fly home. As soon as he passed by the living room to head upstairs, he caught a glimpse of a view that made all the doubt and negative thoughts leave his mind.

There you two were, sprawled out on the couch covered in blankets. NFL network was still on in the background as Remi was curled up into a ball with her mouth slightly open, as close to your body as humanly possible. And even in deep sleep, you held onto her. Justin smiled to himself, taking a mental image as a reminder of how worth it this all is, no matter the sacrifice. He’d rather compromise with you, create this life with you and have a life outside of football than the alternative because this? The view in front of him? That was everything.

And he needed to put a stop to it immediately.

He slowly walks over to the couch, scooping Remi up in his arms and she doesn’t even bother to open her eyes, securing her arms around his neck and sleeping peacefully like nothing happened. As soon as her weight is gone from your orbit you begin to stir, rubbing your eyes in an attempt to wake yourself up.

“Hey there sleepyhead,” he whispers, “let’s go upstairs and get some sleep. The couch isn’t good for your back.”

You yawn, sitting up and already feeling the tightness in your muscles thanks to the increased weight in your front. Justin holds a hand out for you to grab so you can stand up and the three of you head up to your bedroom for some much needed rest.

A mild ear infection. That’s what the pediatrician told you this morning and that she should be fine completely recovered within the week, which was honestly the best case scenario. You texted Justin the news and he let you know that his Monday lift and meetings were done and he’d be home for the rest of the day.

“Can I have lava for lunch please?” Remi asks innocently, holding Justin’s hand. She hadn’t let him out of her sight since she walked in the door and found him standing in the kitchen. He couldn’t even go to the bathroom without her standing on the other side of the door.

“Lava?” He mouths at you.

“Tomato soup,” you laugh. “While you feed her I’m gonna head to the store real fast and grab more medicine and a couple other things we might need.” Moments like this didn’t come often, so you had to take advantage of this toddler-free opportunity and get some stuff done before Justin had to go to practice later this week. You headed out quietly, greatly enjoying the sight of Thing One and Thing Two having an intense conversation.

“Oh daddy. Can I have some Gatorade too please?”

Justin narrows his eyes, ready to bargain with the toddler. “How about this, you finish your lava and I’ll give you a little bit of Gatorade. Deal?”

“Otay, I try.”

Less than halfway into her bowl of soup, Remi said she was done. “Are you sure you don’t want to finish it? No lunch means no Gatorade.” He tried coaxing her into taking a few more bites but she just wasn’t having it.

Remi sighs, her cheeks getting a rosy tint that he didn’t like. “Too tired to eat, can I hold you?”

“Of course you can hold me, come here.” He presses his lips to the top of her head, her warm clammy skin letting him know that it’s time for more medicine. Since he couldn’t let her go without some sort of meltdown, he just used one hand to pour the Motrin into a tiny cup and had her drink it.

“That was yucky,” she whines, her voice having a sleepy croak to it. “Can you take a nap with me, pretty please?”

He laughs lightly, peering down at her as he walks to her room. “When you ask so nicely with a sweet face like that, how can I say no?”

With his long legs hanging off the bed, he placed the blanket over her as she nestled herself in the crook of his body. “Daddy?”

Her eyes were closed so he wasn’t sure if she was still awake until she spoke again. “Thank you for staying with me. Yesterday, I missed you but now you’re here and I’m so happy. I miss you when you leave.”

“Do you get sad when I’m gone?” He wasn’t sure he was ready to hear her answer, but he knew he needed the truth. Even though the simple thought of making her sad had him biting back tears.

Remi opens her eyes, her matching green orbs staring into his before she smiles and shakes her head. “Yes. For two minutes I cry but you always come back!” She holds out three fingers to show him and he chuckles, helping her out one finger down. “And you get touchdowns on tv and me and mama high five. I like touchdowns and I like the Chargers. So I not sad daddy, I get happy when you win. Sometimes you lose…but I still love you.”

As hard as he tries, he can’t contain the laughter at his daughter’s football analysis. But she was right, she loved him win or lose and he had to remember that when the guilt set in. “I love you more mini,” he gives her a squeeze, “and I’m always going to come back home, every touchdown is for you and for mama.”

“And baby brother?”

“Of course! Baby brother too.”

She seems satisfied with that answer, closing her eyes again and cozying further into his chest, her steady breaths letting him know she was quickly dozing off.

With her body resting against his chest, he lets out a breath he hadn’t even realized he was holding since he got home almost 24 hours earlier. Even something as minor as a tiny ear infection worried him. “I’m right here honey, daddy’s not going anywhere.” He was mostly saying that for himself but it still felt good to admit there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

The next day when he came home from the facility, he was happy to find Remi getting back to her usual self. “What are you two doing?”

“Making nana bread with…matella.”

“It’s Nutella sweets,” you correct her with a soft laugh.

Remi giggles, “Nu-tella, the best chocolate.”

“That sounds amazing bub,” Justin smiles, giving each of you a kiss on the cheek. Remi immediately drops what she’s doing to give him a hug. “I’m so glad you’re feeling better.”

She gives him a kiss on the cheek in return, “nana bread and daddy at home make me feel lots better.” Remi practically hops out of the man’s arms to go grab her cup of water from the living room.

“She said banana bread before me,” Justin murmurs. “Is that saying something?”

Placing the bread pan in the oven, you laugh softly. “Unfortunately, I think it says everything. I’m so sorry you had to find out this way.”

“Eh it’s fine. You didn’t even make her top two.”

#Justin Herbert #Justin Herbert x reader #justin herbert imagine #Justin Herbert x you #nfl imagine #justin herbert fanfic

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txttletale · 6 months

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healed ive been doing some very basic communist readings lately and. how do you cope with the fact that none of it seems particularly possible. how do you manage to put any of this theory into practice when the only two parties out there seem to be the We’re Basically Demsocs Party and the Sexual Abuse League. how do you not let it crush you and what ways have you found to like… manifest these ideas in your life? i guess one could say i was “radicalized” by recent events but having done basic reading (just beginner Lenin and Marx) has made me feel so much more hopeless. there’s no vanguard party and i don’t see what I can actually tangibly do to help proliferate communism. and it’s making me feel guilty for living my life, too, for doing things that I find fun and beautiful and enjoyable - there’s just the guilt of “this is a time-waster, this is brainwashing you”. do you have any assurance at all

so obviously the role of a marxist-leninist in a revolutionary situation (ie, one in which the conditions are revolutionary, in which the current bourgeois state is no longer tenable) is to be in a vanguard party at the head of the organized working class. but these things don't appear from nowhere--i think it follows that if you are in much of the world, where a revolutionary situation is not imminent in any forseeable near future, then the role of a communist is to help organize the working class and raise class consciousness through class struggle so that when such a situation presents itself the working class is both radical and organized, or capable of becoming such in short order.

that means that working within non-party organizations (unions, activist and mutual aid groups, grassroots campaigns) with the intent of learning the tactics of organization and radicalising the people around you is a meaningful participation in the class struggle. as much as i say 'get organized' and believe that a proletarian party is the best and most powerful vehicle for revolutionary action, that latter belief is of course to be taken and adapted for the situation.

do not be hopeless because you have read lenin--instead, be aware that when lenin was writing much of what he wrote, the situation of socialist parties across europe was dire. criminalized, divided just as they are now, replete with the exact kind of reformists you're complaining about (as well as adventurists). what lenin wrote about was not just a theoretical ideal party that did exist in his time, but instead the blueprints for the party he had a hand in creating. realize that lenin genuinely believed during periods that he would not see revolution during his lifetime.

organize with whoever you can, in whatever arena you can, and participate in the class struggle. develop the skills and understanding of the methods of struggle, even if trade unionism or climate activism alone are not sufficient vectors by which the contradictions of capitalism can be resolved, they are avenues by which your class consciousness and that of those around you can be honed and sharpened. find the most radical body around you and join yourself to their struggle--a vanguard party should emerge from the struggles of the working class, it should be an organization that serves as a vessel for effective action. you do not have to tie yourself to the decaying and rotting shambling zombie parties of the 20th century to participate in the class struggle--we as communists owe these organs no loyalty if they are not equipped for the realities of class struggle.

i'm lucky in that there is a small but dedicated group of marxist-leninists i have been able to join up with and work with. if that's not the case for you, conduct the struggle within anarchist collectives or trade unions or solidarity campaigns, while always keeping your true goal in mind. the class struggle unfolds across a multitude of arenas--as long as there's someone you can organize alongside on something, you are not powerless in your capacity as a revolutionary communist. good luck, comrade.

#ask

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kckt88 · 2 months

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The Lost Dragon XI - Freedom.

Summary:

The Lost dragon finds his way home.

Warning(s): Childbirth, Dragons, Reunion, Fluff, Kissing, Language, Anger, Uncle/Niece Incest, Smut - Oral Sex (F Recieving), P in V.

*Features a Time Skip*

AEMOND TARGARYEN x O.C -VAELYS TARGARYEN

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5523

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8

As Vaelys cried out in agony, her voice piercing the air with the intensity of her pain, Vermithor, let out a thunderous roar that shook the very foundations of Dragonstone. His mighty roar seemed to echo the anguish of his rider, a primal cry that reverberated through the castle walls.

“Aemond” begged Vaelys her voice filled with desperation and longing. She knew he couldn't be with her, not now, not while he was in exile but still, she couldn't help but yearn for his presence, his strength, his love.

Rhaenyra and Helaena exchanged worried glances, their hearts breaking for Vaelys in her moment of need.

“I want AEMOND” screamed Vaelys, as she clutched at the sheets beneath her with white-knuckled fists, her breaths coming in ragged gasps as she fought against the agony that threatened to overwhelm her.

The sound of Vermithor's roar filled the birthing chamber, drowning out all other noise with its raw power and intensity. It was a sound born of empathy and solidarity, a testament to the bond that existed between dragon and rider.

Helaena knelt beside Vaelys' bed; her touch gentle as she reached out to grasp her hand. There was a warmth in her eyes, a silent reassurance that spoke volumes more than words ever could. In that moment of shared vulnerability, Helaena offered Vaelys the comfort of her presence, a silent reminder that she was not alone in her struggle.

Meanwhile, Rhaenyra stood on the other side of the bed, taking Vaelys' other hand in hers. Her touch was firm yet gentle, a grounding force amidst the storm of emotions that raged within her daughter's heart.

"You are stronger than you know, my dear," Rhaenyra said, her voice filled with conviction. "It might not seem like it now, but you can do this. You have the strength and the courage to face whatever comes your way."

"Aemond should be here," she sobbed, her words choked with anguish. "I need him-I can't do this without him."

The weight of her longing bore down on her, the absence of her beloved husband a gaping wound in her heart. Each wave of pain only served to amplify her yearning for his presence, for his strength, for his love.

"He should be the one holding my hand” cried Vaelys.

Rhaenyra clasped her daughter’s hand tighter, but her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the confines of the birthing chamber. There was a tension in her posture, a guardedness in her demeanour, as if she held secrets too weighty to share.

"I know how much you long for Aemond to be here with you in this moment. He would give anything to be by your side, to share in the joy and pain of bringing new life into this world, and even though he can't be here physically, his love for you knows no bounds. He carries you in his heart, just as you carry him in yours” said Helaena, her words carrying a soothing warmth.

"Now I need you to focus your strength, Princess” urged Maester Gerardys, his voice a steady anchor amidst the tumult of emotions that swirled around them. "It's time. I need you to push."

With a guttural scream that echoed through the chamber, Vaelys pushed with all her might, her muscles straining against the weight of her labour. The roars of Vermithor outside grew louder and more intense, as if echoing the pain and determination coursing through her veins.

Helaena held tightly to Vaelys' hand, her own fingers trembling with emotion as she offered silent strength and support. Rhaenyra leaned in close, pressing gentle kisses to Vaelys' furrowed brow, her words of encouragement lost amidst the cacophony of noise.

The sheets beneath Vaelys were stained with blood, a stark reminder of the battle being waged within her body. Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, every fibre of her being screaming for respite. But still, she pushed, drawing upon a wellspring of inner strength she never knew she possessed.

And then, with one final, push, the babe emerged into the world, a tiny, wailing bundle of life. Vaelys collapsed back against the pillows, her chest heaving with exertion, tears of relief streaming down her cheeks.

Helaena's eyes widened in awe, Rhaenyra's breath caught in her throat, and even Vermithor's roars seemed to falter in the presence of the miracle before them.

"It's a boy," Maester Gerardys announced, his voice filled with wonder as he cradled the newborn in his arms.

As Vaelys gazed upon her son for the first time, a rush of emotion flooded her heart as she whispered, her voice barely a breath, "A son, Aemond-we have a son."

The babe was a vision of beauty, with silver hair that shimmered in the faint light of the birthing chamber and eyes the colour of amethyst, mirroring that of his father. In that moment, he looked the very image of Aemond.

As Rhaenyra and Helaena gathered around Vaelys and her newborn son, their hearts overflowing with love and joy, they knew that their family was forever changed. For in the face of new life, hope blossomed anew, filling the chamber with the promise of a brighter future for them all.

Rhaenyra's eyes shimmered with pride and joy as she looked down at her grandson cradled in her daughter’s arms.

"What are you going to call him?" she asked, her excitement palpable.

Vaelys' smile widened as she gazed upon her newborn son, her heart overflowing with love. "Daevyn," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "It means freedom”.

The significance of the name was not lost on Helaena, who shared a knowing glance with Vaelys. Daevyn was the name that Aemond had chosen for a son before Sovia was born, he saw it as s symbol of hope and resilience.

Helaena's smile grew as she reached out to gently caress her nephew's cheek. "Prince Daevyn Targaryen," she declared proudly, her voice filled with pride.

Sovia, with her bright eyes and messy silver curls, toddled into the room, her tiny hand gripping a plush dragon toy tightly. She paused in the doorway, her gaze fixed on the bundle nestled in her mother's arms.

"Sweet girl," Vaelys whispered, her voice soft with affection, as she gestured for Sovia to come closer.

With cautious steps, Sovia approached her mother and the newborn babe, her curiosity piqued. She reached out a chubby hand, her fingers gently brushing against Daevyn's tiny fist.

Daevyn stirred at the touch, his eyelids fluttering open to reveal bright, amethyst eyes that mirrored Sovia's own. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he gazed up at his sister with wonder.

Sovia's face lit up with a radiant smile as she giggled with delight, her laughter filling the room like a melody. She leaned in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to Daevyn's forehead before settling down beside her mother to admire her new baby brother.

Vaelys' heart clenched with a mixture of longing and sorrow. She cradled Daevyn closer to her chest, her thoughts drifting to Aemond, who was still far away in exile.

In that bittersweet moment, Vaelys couldn't help but wonder if Aemond felt the same ache in his heart, the same longing to be with his family. She whispered a silent prayer, wishing for their reunion to come swiftly so they could share in the joys of parenthood together.

Vaelys walked along the sun-kissed shores of Dragonstone, the soft sand beneath her feet yielding with each step. Daevyn nestled snugly against her chest in a sling of cloth, his tiny breaths warming her skin with each exhale. Beside her, Sovia skipped along, her hand clasped tightly in hers, their footsteps leaving imprints in the sand.

Helaena strolled beside them, her three children darting ahead, their laughter mingling with the gentle lapping of the waves. Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor chased each other along the shoreline, their playful antics painting the air with joy.

Behind them, Daeron kept a watchful eye, smiling as he observed his nieces and nephews.

As Sovia giggled and darted off to join her cousins in their playful chase along the shoreline, Vaelys couldn't help but pause for a moment, her gaze drifting across the vast expanse of the sea. A pang of longing tugged at her heart as she wondered quietly to herself: Is Aemond okay?

Sensing her turmoil, Helaena stepped closer, her presence a comforting anchor amidst Vaelys' inner turmoil. With a gentle touch, she wrapped an arm around Vaelys' shoulders, offering silent solace and reassurance.

"He's okay, Vaelys," Helaena murmured softly, her voice carrying the weight of conviction. "Aemond is strong, and he will come home to you".

Vaelys drew a shaky breath, her worries momentarily eased by Helaena's words of comfort. She leaned into her good sister's embrace, finding solace in the warmth of her presence.

Vaelys turned around and a flicker of panic shot through her chest at the sudden absence of Sovia. She scanned the beach frantically, her eyes darting from one spot to another, searching for any sign of her daughter amidst the swirling chaos of laughter and waves.

"Sovia?" she called out, her voice trembling with worry, the sound of her own heartbeat thundering in her ears.

Vaelys' heart pounded in her chest as she rushed over to Daeron, desperation etched into every line of her face.

"Daeron, where is she?" she demanded, her voice tinged with fear.

Daeron's expression mirrored her concern as he met her gaze, his eyes scanning the beach in search of any sign of Sovia.

"I... I took my eyes off her for just a second," he admitted, his voice filled with regret. "I didn't see where she went."

A surge of panic washed over Vaelys as she processed Daeron's words. She clutched Daevyn closer to her chest, her heart racing with fear for her missing daughter.

“Silver and wing, together the two will sing, an egg for a King” muttered Helaena her voice carrying a cryptic note that gave Vaelys pause.

Before Vaelys could question her further, a sudden roar pierced the air, reverberating through the surroundings with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

Their attention snapped to the source of the sound, their eyes widening in awe as a shadow passed overhead. Against the backdrop of the sky, the silhouette of a dragon emerged.

“Silverwing” exclaimed Vaelys her heart skipping a beat as she watched the beautiful silver dragon land on the beach with a thud.

But her wonder quickly turned to panic as she heard Sovia's giggles nearby.

"Sovia!" Vaelys cried out, her voice tinged with fear as she saw her daughter toddling toward the dragon, her tiny hand outstretched in curiosity.

Fear gripped Vaelys' heart as she raced forward, her maternal instincts urging her to protect her child. But to her astonishment, Silverwing lowered her head with a gentle grace, her eyes shimmering with warmth and affection as she regarded Sovia.

A sense of wonder washed over Vaelys as she watched the unlikely encounter unfold before her eyes. With cautious steps, Sovia approached the dragon, her laughter filling the air with joy as she reached out to touch Silverwing's scaled snout.

To Vaelys' astonishment, Silverwing responded with an affectionate purr, her massive head nuzzling against Sovia's tiny hand with a gentleness that belied her formidable size.

"I guess Silverwing has found her rider,” remarked Daeron quietly, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and admiration.

"She's not even two name days old," Vaelys murmured, her voice tinged with wonder as she watched Sovia interact with the majestic creature before her.

In Sovia's innocent laughter and Silverwing's gentle purrs, Vaelys saw the undeniable proof of a bond being formed.

Daeron's laughter rang out across the beach, a buoyant and infectious sound that filled the air with mirth and warmth.

"Imagine Aemond's face when he comes back and discovers that his daughter is the youngest Targaryen in our history to ever claim a full-grown dragon," he exclaimed, his voice laced with amusement. "The guy is going to be so insufferable!"

Vaelys couldn't help but chuckle at the thought, the image of Aemond's proud and boastful demeanour bringing a smile to her lips. She could already picture the gleam of pride in his eye as he regaled anyone who would listen with tales of Sovia's remarkable feat.

Vaelys' gaze shifted to Vermithor, who lay basking in the warmth of the sun, his massive form sprawled out lazily on the sand. With a hint of playful sarcasm, she addressed the dragon.

"Thanks for all your help," she remarked dryly, her tone tinged with amusement.

Vermithor, sensing the sarcasm in her words, cracked open one eye, and let out a low, rumbling huff in response, as if to say, "She’s fine."

Vaelys couldn't help but grin at her dragon's playful reaction, a sense of camaraderie passing between them.

Vaelys turned to Helaena, a flicker of concern crossing her features as she thought of her newborn son. "Sovia has her dragon now, but what about Daevyn?" she asked quietly, her voice tinged with worry.

Helaena smiled reassuringly, placing a comforting hand on Vaelys' shoulder. "Don't worry, Vaelys," she said gently. "Daevyn will have his dragon soon enough."

Vaelys nodded, her heart eased by Helaena's words. She knew that in time, Daevyn would find his own companion, a dragon to call his own. With a grateful smile, Vaelys turned her gaze back to Sovia and Silverwing, feeling a sense of peace wash over her as she watched them play together on the beach of Dragonstone.

The wind rushed past Vaelys' face as Vermithor soared through the skies, his powerful wings beating rhythmically against the currents. With Sovia securely fastened in the saddle in front of her and Daevyn strapped to her back, Vaelys felt a sense of exhilaration coursing through her veins as she flew with her children.

Beside them, Silverwing and Sapphyre soared gracefully, their scales gleaming in the sunlight as they danced through the clouds. Sovia, almost three years old now, squealed with delight, her laughter echoing through the air as she reached out to touch the sky.

"Look, Mama, look!" Sovia exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder as she pointed to the world below.

Vaelys couldn't help but smile at her daughter's infectious joy, her heart swelling with pride at the sight of her children flying alongside her. Daevyn, just fifteen moons old, gazed wide-eyed at the world around him, his tiny fingers grasping at the air in excitement.

As the winds carried them higher into the clouds, Vaelys couldn't shake the memory of Helaena's comforting words. "Daevyn will have his dragon soon enough," a promise of hope and possibility that lingered in Vaelys' mind.

It wasn't long after that when Silverwing laid a clutch of eggs, each one a shimmering promise of new life. Among them was a single egg, chosen by some unspoken instinct, to be placed in Daevyn's cradle.

Days passed, marked by anticipation, for the egg to hatch. And then, one morning, as the first rays of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, the egg cracked open.

A dragon of silver and blue emerged from the shell, its scales gleaming in the early light as it stretched its wings and let out a triumphant roar. The little hatchling, bonding immediately with Daevyn, curling up at his side.

As time passed, Sapphyre grew swiftly, his scales shimmering in the sunlight as he stretched his wings and tested his strength. Despite his youth, he was already a good size for his age, his lithe form exuding a sense of grace and power that contradicted his tender years.

With each passing day, Vaelys watched with pride as Sapphyre honed his skills, his flights becoming more confident and his movements more fluid. He soared through the skies alongside his mother, Silverwing and Vermithor.

Together, the three dragons danced through the clouds, their wings beating in perfect harmony as they embraced the freedom of the open sky. And as they flew, Vaelys felt a sense of wonder wash over her, grateful for the beauty and magic of the dragons.

Vaelys stood on the sandy shores of Dragonstone, her heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. As she waited for Aemond's return, her mind drifted back to the night before he left, their final moments together etched into her memory.

"Meet me on the beach of Dragonstone," he had said, his voice filled with determination and longing.

In that moment, Vaelys had promised herself that she would wait for him, no matter how long it took. But now, as she stood there, the weight of uncertainty pressed down upon her, her thoughts swirling with doubts and fears.

What if Aemond didn't come? What if the two years apart had changed him, irrevocably altering the bond they shared?

The air seemed to grow heavy with her doubts, the silence stretching out before her like an endless abyss. But just as her fears threatened to consume her, a deafening roar shattered the stillness, echoing through the air with a force that sent shivers down her spine.

And then, Vhagar descended through the clouds, her majestic form cutting through the sky with a grace that defied description. In that moment, all of Vaelys' doubts melted away, replaced by a surge of hope and longing that burned brighter than the sun itself.

With tears of joy streaming down her cheeks, Vaelys watched as Vhagar landed on the beach.

Aemond began his descent down the rope ladder, his movements eager and impatient. But halfway down, his haste overtook him, and with a determined glint in his eye, he let go of the ladder and leapt down onto the soft sand below.

Vaelys stood there, stunned by the sight of her husband, his features etched with determination and longing. In the two years they'd been apart. Aemond had grown even more handsome, his sharp features softened by the warmth of his smile.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Vaelys drank in the sight of him, her heart overflowing with love and longing. And as Aemond approached her with outstretched arms, she felt a surge of joy wash over her, and with a cry of joy, Vaelys sprinted across the sand toward Aemond, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. As she reached him, she leaped into his arms, her laughter mingling with his as they tumbled into the soft embrace of the sand below.

Giggling uncontrollably, Vaelys peppered kisses all over Aemond's face, her lips finding his cheeks, his forehead, and his nose in a flurry of affection and adoration. With each kiss, she felt the weight of their separation lift from her shoulders, replaced by an overwhelming sense of love and gratitude for the man who held her heart.

Aemond wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as they lay entwined in the sand, their laughter echoing across the beach.

Aemond's voice trembled with emotion as he spoke, his eye searching Vaelys' face for reassurance. "I was worried you wouldn't be waiting for me," he confessed, his words heavy with the weight of his fears. "That the years apart would mean you no longer loved me, that you had taken another husband-"

But Vaelys shook her head, her eyes shining with love and devotion as she reached out to cup his cheek. "It's you, Aemond," she whispered, her voice soft but filled with conviction. "It's always been you."

With those words hanging in the air between them, Aemond's fears melted away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of relief and gratitude. And as their lips met in a passionate kiss, the world around them faded into insignificance, leaving only the two of them entwined in each other's embrace, their love stronger than ever before.

"Brother!"

Aemond turned to see Daeron and Helaena hurrying towards them, their faces alight with joy and relief. With a smile spreading across his face, Aemond rose to his feet, pulling Vaelys up beside him as he greeted his siblings.

With open arms, Aemond embraced Daeron and Helaena, pulling them into a tight hug. The warmth of their reunion enveloped them, filling the air with a sense of familial love and unity.

Tears of happiness glistened in Daeron's eyes as he clapped Aemond on the back, his voice thick with emotion. "It's good to have you back, brother," he said, his words echoing the sentiments of everyone present.

Helaena joined in the embrace, her eyes shining with unshed tears as she held her brother close. "We missed you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

With their arms wrapped around each other, the three of them stood together on the beach of Dragonstone, united once more.

As Aemond's gaze scanned the surroundings, his eyes fell upon a small figure standing with Ceci near the steps, a little girl with silver curls cascading down her shoulders. His heart skipped a beat as he recognized her instantly.

"S-Sovia?" Aemond stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. His daughter—his precious little girl—stood before him, but she was no longer the baby he remembered. She had grown so much in the two years he had been away, her silver curls just as wild and untamed as ever.

Stunned, Aemond approached her slowly, his steps faltering as he reached out a trembling hand. But Sovia, shy and unsure, backed away, seeking refuge behind Vaelys' protective embrace.

His heart aching with longing, Aemond knelt down before her, his eyes filled with love and longing. "Byka grēges," he whispered softly (Little bug).

At the sound of her father's voice, Sovia's eyes widened in recognition, and then, as if a dam had burst, she uttered a single word that filled Aemond's heart with boundless joy.

"Daddy."

With a cry of delight, Sovia threw herself into Aemond's waiting arms, her laughter ringing out like music on the breeze.

As Aemond basked in the joy of reuniting with Sovia, Vaelys stepped back, allowing father and daughter a few precious moments together. She watched them with a tender smile, her heart swelling with love and gratitude for the sight before her.

But as the moments passed, Vaelys knew it was time to share another precious gift with Aemond—their son, Daevyn. With a gentle nod to Ceci, she took her son into her arms, feeling the weight of his tiny form against her chest.

Taking a deep breath, Vaelys turned to face Aemond, her heart fluttering with nervous anticipation. She could see the stunned expression on his face as his gaze fell upon the boy in her arms.

"I-Is he?" Aemond's voice was barely a whisper, his eyes wide with disbelief and wonder.

With a soft smile, Vaelys nodded, her heart overflowing with joy. "Yes," she replied, her voice trembling with emotion. "This is your son. His name is Daevyn, born nine moons after you left."

As Aemond took in the sight of his son for the first time, his initial shock quickly gave way to a surge of overwhelming emotion. His heart pounded with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his mind struggling to process the revelation before him.

He had a son—a son he never knew existed. The realization hit him like a bolt of lightening, filling him with a sense of betrayal and fury. How could this have happened? How could his wife have given birth to their child without his knowledge?

His anger simmered, threatening to boil over as he grappled with the enormity of the situation. He knew it wasn't Vaelys' fault—she had been left in the dark just as much as he had. But still, the injustice of it all gnawed at him, fuelling the flames of his rage.

His gaze hardened as he turned his thoughts to Rhaenyra, the woman who had sent him away, tearing him from his family and his home. It was her decree that had forced him into exile, robbing him of the chance to witness the birth of his own son.

Bitterness welled up inside him as he thought of the time lost, the moments stolen from him by forces beyond his control. Anguish mingled with fury as he cursed the circumstances that had kept him apart from his loved ones, leaving him to wallow in ignorance while life carried on without him.

"Aemond," she began softly, her voice filled with warmth and compassion, "Would you like to hold Daevyn?"

Aemond's gaze flickered to his son, in Vaelys' arms, his features serene and innocent. For a moment, the storm of anger and resentment that brewed within him threatened to consume him entirely. But then, with a heavy sigh, he nodded silently, his resolve to confront Rhaenyra simmering beneath the surface for the time being.

Wordlessly, Vaelys carefully transferred Daevyn into Aemond's waiting arms, her touch gentle and reassuring. As their son nestled against his chest, Aemond felt a wave of tenderness wash over him, mingling with the anger and frustration that still lingered in his heart.

The soft glow of candlelight cast a warm ambiance over the small dinner gathering, illuminating the faces of those gathered around the table. Vaelys sat at the head, her radiant smile lighting up the room as she doted on their children, Sovia, and Daevyn.

Beside her, Aemond watched with a sense of overwhelming gratitude, his heart swelling with love as he beheld the sight of his family together once more. Daeron sat across from him, a grin on his face as he regaled the table with tales of his time at Old Town and how he once filled Lord Ormund’s boots with manure, his laughter filling the air.

Helaena sat beside her brother, with Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor by her side, their youthful energy adding to the lively atmosphere of the evening. Aemond couldn't help but smile as he watched them interact, their laughter and chatter a soothing melody that filled him with a sense of peace.

As he looked around the table at the faces of those, he loved the most, Aemond felt a surge of contentment wash over him.

He watched as Vaelys tended to their children with a grace and tenderness that took his breath away, her love for them evident in every gesture and smile. In that moment, Aemond fell in love with her all over again, grateful beyond words for the woman who had stood by his side through thick and thin.

As the evening stretched on and the laughter continued to flow, Aemond found himself lost in the warmth of the moment, his anger towards Rhaenyra could wait because he was home at last.

As soon as the door was closed, Aemond was on her, he wrapped his hand around Vaelys’ throat and pressed her against the wall.

“I can’t wait any longer ābrazȳrys, I need to have you” exclaimed Aemond (Wife).

“-Pār gūrogon issa “ replied Vaeryna as Aemond suddenly lunged forward and pressed his lips to hers (Then take me).

Their kiss was rough and desperate. Consisting of teeth and tongue.

It was an eruption of frustration and passion. Hands everywhere, grabbing, scratching, and pulling at one another.

Aemond spun Vaelys around and pressed her face against the wall, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other quickly untying the laces of his breeches.

Gods, he was so fucking hard, he'd been hard the moment he saw his wife again, and in truth if Daeron and Helaena hadn't of been there, he would have fucked Vaelys in the sand.

Aemond nudged her ankle with his foot, signalling for her to open her legs wider.

His body covered hers as he sucked and licked the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Vaelys moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

“Two years-two fucking years I’ve waited-“ growled Aemond.

“Kostilus” begged Vaelys (Please).

"Two years with nothing but my own hand-I fucked my fist everynight, thinking of you"

Aemond pulled up his wife’s skirts and slipped his fingers into her small clothes.

“Fuck” moaned Aemond, gods she was so wet that he almost spilled in his breeches.

Aemond ran his hand up and down the hard length of himself, eyeing his wife with an animalistic hunger, a smirk on his lips as she bent forward for him.

He pulls aside her small clothes as he guides himself to her entrance, she barely has a moment to adjust before he is pressing his cock forcefully inside and stretching her.

“THAT’S IT!” groaned Aemond.

Vaelys couldn’t think of anything but the intense pounding thrusts, Aemond set a brutal pace, his hips crashing into hers, his hard cock reaching deep inside her.

Then he withdrew from her and span her around, lifting her into his arms, his mouth pressed against hers as he quickly sheathed himself back inside her.

“YES! YES! AEMOND!” screams Vaelys.

“FUCK!” shouts Aemond as he feels her cunny clenching around his cock.

He withdraws from her again, making her whimper in frustration.

But Aemond ignored her as he laid her on the chaise lounge and fell to his knees.

Sliding his calloused hands up her legs, bunching the fabric of her small clothes in his hand before he rips them from her body.

“Aemond” shrieked Vaelys as Aemond’s mouth descends on her cunny.

Ravenously, he pressed into his wife’s core with his tongue, in and out, much faster than his cock ever could.

Still gasping, Vaelys clutched at his head with one hand, her other digging into the fabric of the chaise.

Aemond withdrew from her soaking wet core and lashed hard at her clitoris with his tongue, pulling on it with his lips. He was hard, fast and brutal, alternating between her assaulted bundle of nerves and drinking deep from her cunt.

Vaelys ground down on Aemond, hard; his tongue speared deeper inside her, and she felt the warm curl of her peak approach.

Aemond growled, deep in his throat. The vibration of his vocal cords rippled through to his tongue and Vaelys gasped; she felt every vibration keenly. Her body tensed for her peak– But Aemond pulled away from her and smirked, his chin shining with her slick.

“A-Aemond” gasped Vaelys, the tears of frustration spilling down her cheeks.

“Be a good little wife and take what your husband gives you” said Aemond as he reached for the laces of her dress before he grew impatient and tore it from her body, leaving her body bare before him.

His own hands moving to his own breeches and shirt, removing them as quick as he could before he surged forward and worshipped his wife’s breasts. His tongue licking at the stiffened rosy peaks

“P-Please. Husband” sobbed Vaelys as she felt his hard cock sliding against her folds.

“Hmm” growled Aemond as he wrapped his hand around his wife’s throat and sheathed himself inside her once more.

“God. Yes. Aemond” moaned Vaelys.

He began to thrust in and out of her in deep achingly slow thrusts.

“Your cunt is dripping, it's so beautiful” sighed Aemond.

Slowly thrusting back and forth. Over and over, withdrawing further each time, until his cock entirely withdrew from her warm wet entrance. He marvelled at her body. Such a beautiful, succulent thing his wife was. Allowing him entry into the most sacred parts of her body.

Aemond began to fuck her in earnest, his fingers digging into the flesh of her throat, using her as leverage as he repeatedly plunged his cock into her cunny, over, thrilled to hear Vaelys’ moans of need echoing around their chambers.

His thrusts, brutal and unrelenting.

“Come for me, love” breathed Aemond.

Vaelys screamed as her desperately needed peak exploded from her body, making every limb tremble as her body bucked around Aemond’s cock.

Gods, he needed to spill his seed, but not like this.

So, with his cock still nestled inside her, Aemond manoeuvred himself into a sitting position with Vaelys on his lap.

“Give me another-I want you to come on my cock again” growled Aemond.

Vaelys ran her hands over the defined muscles of his chest, her nails digging into his pale skin.

“Oh” gasped Vaelys as she rolled her hips against Aemonds.

“That’s it baby, take it. Take all of me”.

Aemond placed his hands on Vaelys’ hips and marvelled at his wife as she rode him.

Vaelys dug her nails into Aemond’s chest as she moved her hips against his, his cock hitting the sweet spot inside her perfectly.

“A-Aemond” moaned Vaelys as he moved his hand to her breasts and once again took one of her nipples into his mouth, his teeth gently grazing the rosy bud.

“Let go baby, I can feel you clenching around me” exclaimed Aemond, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention as the other.

Vaelys’ thighs began to burn, as she felt her second peak approach.

“AEMOND” screamed Vaelys her vision going white as she came around his cock.

“God. Vaelys” groaned Aemond as he exploded. His cock throbbing and twitching as he finally spilled his seed inside her, collapsing against the chaise, breathing hard.

It took a good while for Aemond to regain his senses. Meanwhile his wife had collapsed against him, her face pressed into his neck.

"Rest a while ābrazȳrys and I shall have you again-we've got two years to make up for" rasped Aemond (Wife).

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screamingfromuz · 6 months

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Uz's Charity Master List

As promised, a comprehensive list of places to donate to if you wanna help the people involved in the Israeli Palestinian conflict!

This is how it is gonna work. For the sake of safety, the main list include ONLY registered organization, i.e. ones that are registered in a governmental list. Due to the mass amount of organizations I decided to split it into categories: Solidarity & General, Israel, Gaza, West Bank, Bedouin, Miscellaneous.

Next to those lists, I added two more lists- Projects and Shit List. Projects will include project and fund raising that are not through an official organizations, so the risk factor is higher, and I will do my best to verify them before publishing. The Shit list for organizations you should avoid for various reasons.

For the sake of future edits, the reblog on the lists themselves will be turned off so I could edit and update the lists without having to deal with several versions going around. This post will serve as the Table of Contents and will be rebloggable.

Solidarity & General part 1 Solidarity & General part 2 Israel Gaza West Bank Bedouin Miscellaneous Projects Shit List

If someone is interested in submitting a charity to be added, you can send me an ask with the following details:

organization's name official government registration short history at least one source to prove it's legitimate official site if you would like to be credited in the post.

for projects and fund raising.

name details at least three sources to prove it's legitimate url if you would like to be credited in the post.

for Shit List

name details at least two sources to prove your claims if you would like to be credited in the post.

Submission that will pass verification will be added.

#israel #palestine #i/p #gaza #iron words #west bank #bedouin #charities #ngo #donation links #donation #free palestine #Uz's Charity Master List

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eretzyisrael · 6 days

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by Shiryn Ghermezian

Former Miss Israel Noa Cochva talking to New Yorkers about Israel on May 6, 2024. Photo: Screenshot

Former Miss Israel Noa Cochva was threatened by an antisemitic woman in New York City this week while trying to have peaceful conversations with locals about Israel.

On Monday, Cochva participated in a social experiment with the organization Facts for Peace in which she walked around Washington Square Park in New York City while holding a sign that read, “I’m an IDF [Israel Defense Forces] soldier, ask me anything.” The 25-year-old beauty queen, who represented Israel in the Miss Universe pageant held in Eilat in 2021, was approached by some pro-Israel supporters who hugged her and thanked her for being brave and speaking out in solidarity with the Jewish state. Speaking to an American military officer who stopped to talk with her, Cochva discussed feeling a sense of purpose for serving her country. Cochva served as a combat medic in the ongoing Israel-Hamas war in Gaza.

However, she also received a negative response from other New Yorkers, some of whom called her a “war criminal” and said, “This is f—king stupid. You guys should go home.” When one man asked Cochva,”“How do you sleep at night?” she clapped back: “I sleep really well because I know I’m on the right side of history.”

In a video from the social experiment that was shared on Instagram by both Facts for Peace and Cochva, the former beauty pageant queen could be seen talking to a man on camera when a woman crashed their discussion and said, “Sorry to interrupt, I heard there was a Zionist here.” The same woman lunged at Cochva’s team with a knife, cursed at them, and berated the group by calling them “little Zionists.” She also told Cochva’s cameraman, “My daddy owns your little Jewish b—ch daddy.”

When Cochva’s group invited her to have a conversation with the beauty queen, she avoided the opportunity by giving excuses such as, “No, I only care about being seen” and “I only speak ASL [American Sign Language].” When she asked one man in Cochva’s group for some of his water and he said no, she replied, “Oh, you’re a Zionist. I get it.”

Cochva filmed a video after the incident commenting on what took place and the criticism she faced from Israel-haters. While holding back tears, she told the camera, “I was just trying to have peaceful conversations with them. But it’s a whole different experience to witness something like that. We can’t let things like this happen.”

On Wednesday, the Instagram account Jew Hate Database exposed the knife-wielding woman as Ruby Marzovilla, a graduate of Oberlin College in Ohio who works as a “professional performing artist” and “transformative mediator,” according to her LinkedIn page.

#noa cochva #miss israel #facts for peace #ruby marzovilla

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hmsindecision · 3 months

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I hope one day you realize how horrid bigotry is, and can look back on these days with shame and embarrassment, but also with pride how one became a better person. When the people who want to oppress us are done with trans people they'll go after bisexuality next, then lesbians and gays, then women. We need to stand together or they will push us back into the 1700s.

In order to become an adult you need to release this “us vs. them”, black and white, dichotomous vision of the world. It doesn’t exist. There is no cohesive “they” that I must bond with any ally I can in order to resist.

Do you really think that I have gone any period of time without suffering from systemic homophobia and misogyny? Do you really think that I am sitting from a place of privilege looking down at people who are “one rung below me on the oppression ladder”? What a childish way of thinking.

A large proportion of the homophobia and misogyny that I have experienced has been from people who identified themselves as on the left, as trans, and whose values in some ways align with my own. That really sucks. It really sucks that I have been verbally berated and called slurs by both conservatives and trans people alike. Those who believe that performatively being homophobic or anti-lesbian to me have varied values, religions, creed, and political beliefs. They are a deeply heterozygous group. People approaching my short haired wife to ask her for her pronouns and therefore implying that she is improperly signaling womanhood are the most frequent gender police I encounter.

Why is it that I must accept things like being called names for being exclusively same sex attracted? I by should I accept that because other people have been targeted by the same people who have targeted me?

Why is it my womanly duty to provide solidarity with people who tell me I deserve to be raped, beaten, my career destroyed, my friendships rescinded…. Because I don’t ascribe to their philosophical beliefs? I don’t believe in gender as a framework to be upheld. I hold gender in the same regard as capitalism or the divine right of kings. It is a system of oppression designed to place men over women. It has had loopholes in many societies, mostly to create a third sex for homosexual men. It operates differently in different societies. But I think it’s anti-woman and anti-human. To ask me to believe that someone has an inborn gender identity/gendered spirit is like asking me to believe that corporations are people, that God chose a king, or that the world is flat. There is simply no evidence for that to be true, because it would require there to be something that makes us men or women beyond biology.

There is not. Non-biological differences between men and women are purely socialized. If it isn’t inscribed on the X or Y chromosomes, it’s something you were taught. The clothes you wear, the way you act, the things you like, they are all influenced by the society you live in. The associations of colors, toys, interests, and other things to our sex assignation is partially arbitrary and party about subjugation. Women aren’t born loving makeup any more than serfs are born loving to serve.

I believe everyone should express their vision of themselves as they please. I hate the micro labels that are now applied to all aspects of appearance because people cannot conceive of human difference. I think that even things which I consider anti-self and anti-human can be things which adults do to themselves. If you need surgery or pills, then it isn’t about identity, it’s about fantasy. I understand the necessity of fantasy in an oppressive system.

But gender isn’t just a source of oppression against women. It is also fuel to create and sustain oppressors. That is part of why the anti-feminism of the trans movement feels so comfortable to people raised in patriarchy (all of us). Because the idea that we all have a muliplicity of gender identities is also about absolving men of thousands of years of terrorism and oppression against us XX chromosome havers. Why should I assume my oppressed has good intentions because of their clothing? Because they got surgery? Does that make a trans woman any safer than any other male under patriarchy? Or is that just a safe illusion so you don’t have to deal with the reality?

Even your trajectory in this ask—you think they started with trans people, then bi people are next? How are they going to go after bi people without going after gay people? Unless you mean just angry social opinions as opposed to systemic oppression? Then women last? Literally what fucking planet do you live on? I’m assuming you are American based on… this ask lmao… but…

They have already come for women. Abortion is illegal in many places. Rape is such a constant that we can’t even meaningfully address it. Teen girls are killing themselves over male violence just into puberty. Famous rapists and abusers are constantly fawned over. In my state, DV services are so taxed with women that last year they turned down over 50,000 asks for shelter in the statewide network.

50,000.

And my local LGBTQ community center has a ban of events that say they are for lesbians, or even AFAB people. Did you ever think that maybe *you* need to start showing some solidarity?

When it comes down to it, men always, always choose each other.

I’m doing the most radical thing I can think of, and choosing women every time.

I don’t hate you. But you sure are good at falling for propoganda. Are you wasting your time fighting feminists because it’s easier to attack women than to stand up to your oppressors?

I’m very proud of myself and the woman that I am, and the activism I do (which.. is not on tumblr). I hope you can find the things that make you deeply proud of yourself as an individual, and that you live in accordance with your own values.

#feminism #gender theory

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moviestarmartini · 3 months

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Babygirl... we NEEEED brahim x reader where brahim is all soft and subby and begging for it. Pls pls.

hit the switch. — brahim díaz x reader

summary: away at a family reunion for some time now, brahim gets desperate at the drought you've put him through.

wc: 1.8k

warnings: established relationship, nsfw (18+ DUHHH), sub!brahim, slightly mean dom!reader, kitchen sex, p in v, barely any foreplay aside from making out (don't let men do this to you y'all), fluffy ending as always.

A/N: i think i got this request abt a week ago and got STRAIGHT to writing thank u sm for this anon. hope you like it !!

now playing. . . comerte entera by c. tangana

Brahim had been following you around like a lost puppy for the last few hours. Your family loved him dearly; he was a gentleman, so the invitation to the yearly family reunion was imminent. But the questions and catching up could get overwhelming after some time. The adults were outside drinking and arguing about politics, while the ‘children’— cousins and siblings, all grown adults with children of their own, even— sat in the studio catching up. The booze was flowing, everyone was positively buzzed, excluding you and Brahim. He didn’t drink to maintain his diet, and you only followed in partial solidarity, only drinking a glass of wine during dinner.

After the fifth embarrassing story of your childhood you sighed, rolling your eyes, “I’ll go get another glass of wine and a bat to shut you guys up!” The room burst with complaints as considering you should transition to harder alcohol and join in the fun. You respectfully declined, getting off your seat… and by seat it was Brahim’s lap.

Brahim watched intently how you walked. The way your hips moved, the curve of your back that traced down to your ass, and he had to stop himself from salivating at the way it naturally bounced with each step you took.

“Now that I’m finally free, I’ll go to the bathroom.” Brahim joked, the room full of drunks howled as he got up. He did go to the guest bathroom, but in no time sauntered by the kitchen, watching you from the door frame. He crossed his arms across his chest, lips parted in amusement. A tiny smile peeked from behind the plush rosy lips as you hummed a song, only noticing he was there once you’d finished serving yourself the red wine.

“What is it?” You knew him like the palm of his hand. He looked at you with hunger, a passive one. He just shook his head, taking slow steps towards you as the kitchen door slammed closed. Brahim wrapped his arms around you, brushing his nose against your cheek before hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

“Nothing. You’re just stunning.” He replied, lips ghosting the length of your neck as he pressed slow kisses. The grip around your waist loosened, his hands finding place in your hips as he pulled you closer. He gripped over the fabric of the satin skirt, inhaling your scent. He knew you disliked wearing underwear with that type of fabric, considering it would mark in a way you considered unflattering.

But he kept torturing himself with that information.

“You sure it’s nothing?” You broke the hug, reaching your hand forward and cupping his face. You saw the amusement flash through his eyes, soliciting a smirk to start growing on your face. You read him like an open book. “I told you we have to wait to be back home.” You took a sip of your glass before setting it on the counter, propping yourself on your arms to sit on the marble countertop kitchen island.

Brahim pouted, “Pero mi princesa,” He whined, finding a place between your legs. “I literally saw your cousin hooking up with her high school ex when the party started! They’re all looking to expand the families at the family reunion, why do we need to hold back?” He sounded genuinely frustrated, and for good reason; you would have sex at least thrice a week before coming here. You’d been there for almost a week and there had been barely any action.

You laughed lowly, brushing his hair into place. He looked at you with those shiny brown eyes, knowing he wanted to coerce you. “It’ll be quick,” Brahim appealed for his case, his hands resting on your hips once more. “No te pongas así, mamita. Please”

He watched with panicked eyes as you seemed to really think it through, and all his hopes seemed to be crashing down before you tugged him by his sweater into a kiss. It started out slow, careful. Each time Brahim tried to turn things up an octave, you pressed a warning hand to his chest. He was quick to follow your lead, afraid the disobedience would mean you were going to back down.

His hands pulling you closer, arching your back so your chest would come in contact with his only invited you to turn the kiss sloppy, your tongue sliding into his mouth. The soft whimper he made gave you a smirk mid makeout session, your arms pulled him closer by his neck.

“Please…” He begged once more, his face hidden in the crook of your neck as he deposited slow kisses down its length. “I’ve been good all week. We still have three days left here.” Your head tilting back gave him an open invitation, but you still relented giving a straight answer. You could feel his clothed cock growing hard and pressing against your thigh.

“Let me think…” You teased, though your voice came out more breathy than you would’ve liked. You could feel the pulsing between your legs, that familiar tickle in your lower stomach. “Do you really want it?” Your hand took itself to cup the boner, squeezing it a little only to watch him squirm.

Brahim leaned into the touch, jerking his hips ever so slightly. “I do… Please, please.” His voice dripped of desperation, and you could feel yourself growing hornier. “I need your pussy, joder.” His hand also sneaked under the soft fabric of your skirt, tracing the length of your upper thigh. You peered at the kitchen door; he’d closed it, and it automatically locked. That door had always been faulty, easily becoming stuck. The curtains were drawn earlier that day as you made cookies with your cousins, the decision taken by the bright sun rays becoming annoying for those still carrying a hangover headache.

‘Ah, fuck it.’ You groaned in your head, before taking Brahim into a frenzied kiss. As the oldest woman from your nuclear family, you were bred to be uptight, serious and not prone to having fun. You grew out of that as you moved away, but you encased yourself back into that mold the second you stepped into your childhood home.

“Is that a yes?” Brahim panted as you parted for a second, fluttering his lashes at you. You nodded, and you noticed how he began to pull away. “Where are you going?” Your voice sounded severe enough to give you those big puppy eyes.

“Our… room?” He questioned, returning to your side. Without an explanation, you stuffed your hand inside his pants, right past his underwear. “No more teasing, please. I just want you.” You swore your boyfriend would have melted into a puddle right then and there as you stroked his cock lazily. Brahim held onto the kitchen island with one hand and gripped your ass with the other.

“You said you needed it, didn’t you, pretty boy?” You mocked his tone from earlier, receiving a puckered lip and a frantic nod in return. You cupped his face with your free hand, “The main door is probably stuck, everyone is too drunk to look for us.” You let go of his stiff dick, instead busying yourself with undoing the button and the zipper of his pants, pulling them down enough for his cock to spring up free.

“Fuck me. Right here.” You brushed his nose against his, “Or you’re losing the chance.” It didn’t take long for him to take your lips in yet another heated kiss, this time, he hiked up the flowy skirt to rest above your hips. He dragged you closer, pressing his leaking tip against your core. You moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist before he lined up and pushed his length inside your entrance.

“Thank you, thank you princesa.” He muttered against your neck, taking a few seconds for adjustment before he started thrusting. The romantic slow thrusts didn’t last long, as his fingers grazed up your upper thighs, his thrusts became deep and hard.

Soon, you were letting yourself go, chest flushed as his hands sneaked under your sweater to grope your tits. “Fuck, these are so gorgeous,” He managed to mutter, but he was barely making any sense. You smiled, noticing his labored breathing, his hair sticking to his forehead from the cold sweat.

“What’s wrong, my baby? You look a little red,” You still teased between your own moans, “Answer me,” Your coo with full of demand, watching as he struggled with his words. So pussydrunk he barely made any sense, even when you dictated he do so.

“It just feels so good.” He cried out, pulling you even closer. He stopped for a second to throw one of your legs over his shoulders, and you were suddenly the one speechless. The tip of his cock kept repeatedly hitting that sweet spot, coercing sounds you had to muffle with your own hand. You didn’t know how much you needed this too, feeling your arousal drip down to the countertop.

“Don’t cum,” You commanded, noticing how he had to hide his face in your calf to avoid making too much noise. The way his rhythm was thrown off gave away his intentions, and your denial made him pause. “I didn’t tell you to stop, didn’t I?”

Brahim nodded, taking a deep breath in. As he resumed what you considered to be a brutal pace, you felt your own body about to be pushed over the brink. “Fuck, cum— cum with me.” You moaned out, covering your mouth as your released washed over you, his own filling you up to the brim once your pulsating walls milked everything he had left.

“C’mere.” You reached out for him once he pulled out, both legs sitting on the counter once again. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting for so long, okay? You know they shove a stick up my ass every time I come here.” You brushed his hair back gently, staring into his soft brown eyes. “You did amazing.”

“Hm yeah?” Brahim purred, leaning into your touch. “You? Not so much. We’ll see how we handle it next time.” His voice was low, with the same tone you carried earlier. It sent a shiver of expectation down your spine.

“Can’t wait.” You winked, giving him one final peck. “Hold on— how are we going to get out of here?”

“Is the door actually locked?” The reality dawned on Brahim at the same time someone knocked on the door. “I thought you were just trying to convince me.”

“Oi! Why did you get locked in there with all the booze?!” One of your brothers asked, trying to pry the door open. You laughed, hiding your face in the crook of Brahim’s neck before you pulled yourselves together, only to find out the door was really stuck.

“Perfect opportunity for another round.” Brahim hugged you from behind, pressing a kiss to your neck. Only to receive an elbow to his ribs, followed by the melodic sound of your laughter.

Oh, how much he loved you.

#brahim diaz x reader #brahim diaz #football x you #football x y/n #football x reader #football smut #football fic

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