#‘did you two break up?’ (very sympathetically)

[the-trans-dragon]

Me using humor to disguise the fact that I am telling them how to do it correctly because customers can get so defensive if I point out they don’t know how to use their card’s new tap feature, and I kinda have to say something because they will get frustrated and start jousting at the reader with their card, and we just got new card-readers that actually work and I am not about to let someone break my brand-new easy-to-use card-reader just because they don’t want to admit that they have no idea how it works and need to be helped at least once to figure it out: “It’s more of a sit that a tap, haha.”

[odissean]

I have not decided how the Cthaian Islands or Aaneach in general feels about same gender relationships, but I know if this was set on Earth, Maedi would be that lesbian who thinks she's doing So Well at passing off her girlfriend as “her best friend from college” except she's utterly failing

[lenacosse]

Other side

pairing: james potter x fem reader

cw: literally just smut

summary: james has a particular way on releasing his anger

‘so it goes…

i’m yours to keep

and i’m yours to lose

you know i’m not a bad girl, but i

do bad things with you.’

════════════════

James Potter, beloved head boy most renounced for his kind and helpful nature, everyone adorned him, everyone wanted to be his friend. Yet you, his girlfriend of two months saw a different side to him, a darker one. James was in no way the perfect angel he was painted to be- yet you’d argue that it he was pretty close to that- he had a temper to him. Most boys punched something, cursed someone out or started a fight when built up, but James was different. He fucked.

The match in front of your eyes between Slytherin and Gryffindor was quite aggressive, both teams had a fiery passion built on their egos. It was a known fact the two houses were each others greatest rivals and so you knew how hard James trained for this match- waking up at the crack of dawn and training for hours, you knew how much he needed the win. The damp and gloomy weather caused for an increase in tensions the enjoyment of the game was frankly stripped with a very non-enthusiastic crowd, the rain had fully soaked through your clothes sending a deep shiver down your spine, droplets of water impaired your sight making the players look like blobs flying around and the cold of Scotlands famed weather made you want to be inside curled up next to the fire.

The rest of the match was nothing short of a blur, nearing the end Gryffindor had the upper hand it seemed as if they had prospect of winning but of course the Slytherins ruined that. The beater send a bludger in the direction of the Gryffindor beater, this hit him right in the stomach sending him off his broom. The crowd averted their attention to the falling boy, but you watched as James got distracted, wondering if his teammate was alright. Whilst distracted, Regulus Black dove in and caught the snitch. The Slytherin stand jumped to a cheer as the Gryffindor stand protested.

“That’s not fair they cheated!” Shouted a fourth year, who was boiling with rage, the rest of the stand alike.

“I hate Slytherins.” Grumbled Mary beside you, her arms were crossed and she wore a deep scowl on her face.

“That was a dirty win,” agreed Lily who stood huddled in next to you, you wanted to save as much heat.

“Sirius is going to be so pissy about this for the rest of the week, he’s not going to let Regulus get off easy with that.” Remus complained watching as Sirius got off his broom and angrily stomped over to the direction of James.

“Not Sirius I would be worried about,” Mary sighed, “look at James, he must be raging. He really wanted this win.”

“I think you’re right,” Lily agreed, “Y/N you should go down to him.”

“I was thinking about letting him cool off first maybe.”

You looked down to the pitch, James had his arms crossed. His jaw was firmly cleaned and his eyes glared across the pitch at the Slytherins, who were celebrating their victory. You stood with your friends for a moment longer, all talking about how tonight would look before deciding to go inside. You chose not to and instead made your way onto the pitch, you approached James and Sirius who were engaged in a very intense conversation.

“Hey,” you said, breaking them from the conversation. You shot them both sympathetic looks, especially James who you’ve never seen so riled up before.

“Go inside and change, you’re soaked.” James replied, despite the sentiment of his words his voice lacked the same warmth, instead his attention focused on the Slytherins again.

“Im fine-” you began but was quickly cut off by the shouts of the Slytherin team.

“Why the long face Potter?” One of them teased, the whole group broke out into laughter in response.

James clenched his fists, as did Sirius. You were scared that this was about to turn into a whole fight.

“Come on you two, let’s go inside. Ignore them they’re just winding you up.”

“Yeah Potter listen to your mummy.” Another from the team remarked, before you knew it James was shoving him to the ground. It all happened so quickly that you could barely process the whole thing.

“Sirius get him off!” You shouted, Sirius quickly ran over attempting to pull James back but when one of the boys punched Sirius in the face he joined in to fight.

It was a good few minutes before the Gryffindor team managed to break up the fight, Marlene dragged a very beaten up looking Sirius inside, presumably to Madame Pomfrey. James shrugged himself out of the grip of John Bell and walked over to you, before you could comment on his bloody lip he grabbed you hand and pulled you inside. The two of you silently walked up to the Gryffindor dormitories, past the common room and straight up to his room. You knew what was coming, you’d be lying if you said the grip his hand had on yours and the pace of his legs didn’t have your arousal building up. You knew instead you should clean up his lip and help cool him down, but there was something deep inside you excited for this, excited to have him dominate you and use you as his toy. You were so lost in thought you gasped as he pushed you up against the wall.

You gripped his arm steadying your balance as his lips went immediately to your neck, his sucked and bit the area, marking you as his with the darkest of marks. He detached from your neck and smashed his lips onto yours, your hand went into his damp hair as your lips connected you could taste the blood from his swollen lip. His tongue slipped into your mouth, engulfing you into an intense make out. Whilst doing so James gripped your ass, pulling you closer to you and causing a moan to escape your lips as your front grind against his, you felt his bulging cock, begging to be freed. James pulled back and smirked at you, his eyes darkening with lust.

“Get down on your knees.” He ran a finger across your lip as you nodded, gazing at him starry eyed through your fluttering lashes.

You slowly dropped to your knees, patiently watching as James undone his trousers pulling them and his boxers down to his ankles. You mouth practically watered as his cock sprung free, it was red and bulging, aching from need and so painfully stiff. You swore you’d never seen him so hard before. You leaned forward your lips shyly coming in contact with his tip, you moved closer allowing your tongue to lick a long stripe from his base to his tip. James gathered your hair in his hands, his grip making you wince ever so slightly. You took him in your mouth- well as much as could fit, you felt him in the back of your throat as you started to move your head. Sucking on him and hollowing your cheeks as you done so, the deep grunts coming from James had you squeezing your thighs together. Abruptly he tightened his grip on your hair and started to control your head, he quickened your speed and pushed himself further down your throat making a gag escape your lips and your eyes prickle with tears.

“Good girl,” James praised, bringing a blush to your cheeks. You looked up at him, tears streaming down your face as you kept going, he nodded in approval. “Touch yourself darling.” You furrowed your brows and he reiterated his statement.

You lowered your hand to the waistband of your legging, you slid your hand into your underwear and started to rub circular motions on your clit. A deep moan came from you as you picked up the pace, James moved your head faster your moans sending a deeper pleasure to him. The room filled with the erratic sounds of your moans and sucking along with James’ deep grunts and groans. You felt the coil tightening in your stomach, building up getting close to snapping. You looked up at James, he nodded encouraging your actions. You felt him getting sloppier with his movements as he moved a hand to the wall for support. He had his head back and his Adam apple was prominent, his jaw was slightly parted in pleasure and his hair messily sat atop his hair occasionally dripping from the rain droplets. The sight of his itself brought you closure to your release, as you deep you moaned with such volume you could have sworn those in the common room would have heard you, but you couldn’t care.

As soon as you came undone James pulled back, he grasped your arms pulling you up. Your legs shook as he walked you over to his bed, he wasted no time pushing you onto it and stripping himself down. You watched biting your lip at him, his abs glistened with sweat and his arms bulged with veins, not to mention the fact he was still hard. He towered over you, kissing you roughly as his hands pulled off your legging. He pulled back as he removed your underwear, a smirk forming as he saw the result of your orgasm.

“Fuck you are so hot.” He whispered into your ear, your whole body flushed as your arousal practically leaked from you. You so desperately needed him, you grabbed his jaw pulling his mouth to yours and kissing him roughly. Your tongue forcing its way into his mouth, slowly James pulled back biting your lip as he done so, you whined in return.

“Please,” you groaned as you wrapped a leg around his waist, hoping some friction.

“Not yet baby.” He said, as he kissed down your jaw. He pulled back, removing your jumper and bra and continued kissing down your body. He left marks on your collarbone before moving to your chest. He took your left nipple into his mouth, sucking and biting on it as your desperation grew, you had a deep ache for him and his every move only grew that.

Swiftly he moved from your body, grabbed your waist and flipped you onto your stomach. He gripped your ass and firmly smacked it before speaking, “get onto your hands and knees.” Right away you done that, biting your lip in anticipation. James from behind grabbed your hips, he rubbed his tip against your soaked folds making you whimper in pleasure, and leaving you clenching around nothing. “Beg.”

You whined in protest, making stop the action altogether. A huff escaped your lips, “please James. Please.. fuck me.” You pleaded.

Without warning he shoved into you making you cry out at the stretch. Soon you adjusted and the harder he went the louder you got, you couldn’t control the sounds escaping your lips as the pleasure overrode your body, you could instantly feel the coil build up in your stomach once again. James gripped the head board reaching over you and going even deeper, allowing him better access of that sweet spot, this had your eyes rolling in pleasure. His other hand firmly wrapped around your throat, not enough to harm you but enough to get you going even more. Chasing that release you rolled your hips, sending courses of overbearing pleasure to you both.

James moaned in response, a sound that had your arms weakening and mind fogging, you clenched around him practically screaming as you came undone. Your arms collapsed as you fell onto the bed. James let go of your throat and the headboard and instead held your hips as he mercilessly pounded into you, by now you were in a state of pure euphoria, completely and utterly cock drunk. A continuation of soft moans formed from you, too gone to stop it. James gripped your hips tighter, moving them with each thrust he done again doubling the pleasure coursing through you. It wasn’t long until you felt that coil again, each thrust made you weaker and weaker, your mind only focused on the utter bliss you felt- the complete exhilaration he caused you.

“Fuck baby- you feel so good.” James groaned as he pounded into you.

His speed was sending the bed rocking with him and slamming into the wall, the noise you both were making frankly ensured no one would walk in although even that wouldn’t faze you considering how immobilised you’d become, in the best way possible. You didn’t want it to end.

“James,” you cried out. “Feels so good, fuck.”

“You look so pathetic,” he grunted. “Like an absolute slut for me.” The degradation made you clench around him in absolute bliss. He smacked your ass again, resulting in a squeal from you as you raised it further for him.

“Don’t stop.” You moaned, your hands gripped his pillow, your knuckles turning white at the intensity.

You came hard around him, causing nothing short of a mess. You were dripping and clenching around him, tears of pleasure streamed down your face and your throat was numb from the volume of your moans. James very quickly came too, completely filling you up, the warm sensation flew through you and leaked out of you. Slowly he pulled out creating an even bigger mess around you both. You moved to sit at the top of the bed, blushing furiously at the result of you both.

“Sorry.” You said shyly.”

“Don’t apologise, it was hot.” James winked as he stripped the bed. “No big deal.”

He helped clean you up and supplied you with a hoodie of his and a pair of shorts, you both got into his bed squeezing in together. You lay on his chest as he stroked your hair.

“Feeling okay?” He smiled, you couldn’t help but smile at the complete change in him. Although you loved when he got worked up this was your favourite version of James, the sweet one that cared for you and held you in his arms.

“Yes.” You smiled. “I must say though, you really should lose more often.”

James shook his head. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe.” You blushed and settled contently next to him.

You must’ve fell asleep but was abruptly woken up by the clapping of someone. You opened your eyes to see Peter, Sirius and Remus all at the foot of James’ bed. Sirius was the one clapping, a boyish grin on his face, Remus shook his head at Sirius and Peter awkwardly looked to the ground.

“Congratulations you two animals the entirety of Gryffindor heard your little session. We were almost scared to come upstairs and by the silence we thought you were dead Y/N.” Sirius teased.

“Stop lying Sirius. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.” You rolled your eyes as you sat up.

“Oh really?” Sirius laughed as he done an impression of you, you covered your face in sheer embarrassment as James threw a pillow at him rightfully shutting him up.

“Shut up Sirius.” Remus and James said in union.

[luveline]

Hi jadeeeee I have a request for coworker James! Another man whether it’s at work or somewhere else starts hitting on reader and James get jealous and realizes he hates seeing her with other guys

ty for requesting 💌 fem

It’s another sunny day at the office, but today is the day the vending machine men come in and fill them, so it’s not all bad. The doors and windows are wide open, the air is fresh and clean. 

“It’s too hot,” Remus complains without any real passion. 

“It’s not that bad,” Sirius says, though he raises his hand to begin fanning Remus anyhow. “It feels hotter than it is because of the humidity.” 

“I feel amazing,” James says. He gives you a nudge with his shoe, his hair tickling his neck as he leans back in his chair. “It’s not that hot, is it?” 

“It’s boiling,” you say. 

You were never going to agree with him. It could be sub zero and you’d tell him you were on fire. James rolls his eyes at you and continues a rather lavish existence of sun, breeze, and cold grapes, their crisp insides popping between his teeth. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

James lifts his head. 

“That’s okay,” Jordan says, to James’ immediate affront. There’s no need for the man in charge of maintaining the vending machine to be talking to you in that tone. It’s bordering too sweet. 

“I’m always in your way,” you laugh. 

“You? In my way? Never.” 

You turn to Remus with an obvious expression. Is he flirting with me? it says. 

Remus looks at James —what the fuck?— before he gives you a tentative back and forth of his head, weighing it up. He shrugs. 

James shakes his head resolutely. 

You give them both the silent version of I understand and settle down in your seat again. The vending machine guy (what’s his name again? James can’t remember) pops open the front cover of the machine and takes out the change box. Clearly, he doesn’t categorise you or the boys as a risk of burglary. 

“So,” Jordan says, “how was your weekend? Did you do much?” 

“In this weather?” you ask with light-humoured sarcasm. “I went on a couple of walks, nothing huge. How about you?” 

“Went to a couple of matches.” 

“Rugby or football?” 

“Rugby, always.” 

James feels the pressure of his teeth clenching at the back of his head. “Do you play, mate?” he asks. 

Jordan looks at him in surprise. “No, we just watch. It’s an excuse to have a pint before five.” 

You break two slices of your clementine away from each other. James doesn’t know why, but your gaze is on him, and that’s where he wants it. “Day drinker?” he asks sympathetically. 

“James,” Sirius says, laughing. “Grow up.” 

“Sometimes,” Jordan says. He finishes reinstalling the change holder and starts to push snacks and drinks onto the vending machine shelves. “Gotta have a little bit of fun every now and then, right?” 

He emphasises to you. 

You give a shy smile. “Right.” 

Jordan finishes his job and wishes everyone goodbye quickly after that. You chew your clementine, your finger looped under your bracelet, tugging slowly round and around. He fucked that up for you, didn’t he? You couldn’t get very far with him poking holes at poor Jordan, but… you’d been smiling at him nicely. You’re allowed to smile at whoever you want to, of course you are, so why did James act like that? 

“Sorry,” he says. 

You slide your thumb between slices of clementine. “To me?” you ask from the corner of your mouth. “For what?” 

Sirius and Remus laugh at the same time. 

James ignores them. “I was mean to him. How are you ever gonna get a date if I bully the vending machine guy?” 

“You think I can’t get a date?” you ask. 

“No.” He grimaces. “No, just, he’s a dickhead.” 

“As opposed to who? You?” you ask. 

James is pretty sure his vision goes white. He hates seeing you with other boys, but this isn’t where he wanted the conversation to go. He doesn’t wanna be your boyfriend. He just hates seeing you happy with other people. 

Oh, god, he thinks. That’s horrible. 

“I think you can do a whole lot better than Jacob the vending machine guy.” 

“Jordan,” you correct, laughing. You don’t bring him up on avoiding your real question, perhaps you don’t notice. You just laugh with Remus and pass James a piece of your clementine. “Vending machines are an honest living. Don’t be so classist.” 

“You’re classist,” he rebukes weakly. He ignores Sirius’ knowing gaze to offer you his punnet of grapes. “Horrible woman.” 

“Get it together, Potter.” 

James doesn’t know what to say to you after that, so he says nothing at all. Your clementine is sweet on his tongue. 

[wndaswife]

To your stepmother’s surprise, you come home from a Christmas party asking for her to care for you; it’s been months since her wedding to your father and months since you’ve paid her any attention at all.

Tags: angst, kiiinda fluffy, stepmom wanda loving you so so much, almost nearly unrequited love

drabble for matriarchal disturbance

I forgot my keys. 

You texted Wanda some time during the evening once you realized you had forgotten them, and since she was the only one at home until tomorrow, she’d have to let you in. Or at least keep the door unlocked. 

Oh no. It’s okay, I have work to do so I can unlock the door when you come home. :)

It was Christmas break and you were home for just a little, so you were out drinking with some friends from high school and some of their new college friends. 

Wanda had texted you a week or two prior asking when you might be coming home. You didn’t answer — you didn’t ever feel in the mood to talk with your stepmother — but you knew it was still her curiosity talking through your father when he called a few days after you left her on read, asking the same question. 

They were both happy to have you home, but Wanda particularly, though you could tell she was trying not to be overbearing. 

She offered to make you tea or coffee once you were unpacking and offered to make you whatever you wanted for dinner that evening, and very subtly tried asking if you’d be home all break or if you might consider staying longer than when you planned to leave. 

Your holiday break ended much later than the day you were planning on leaving, but you didn’t want to stay around much longer than was necessary — you’d spend New Year’s at home, and then you’d leave. 

You weren’t really excited to be home, but you weren’t so cruel as to not come back for the holidays. 

Still, you weren’t really looking forward to having to deal with your stepmother’s longing, curious looks, always wanting to talk with you or bring something up but not knowing how to and not wanting to spoil her limited time with you. 

The feeling you got from seeing her look at you from the corner of your eye wasn’t necessarily all a form of annoyance, but some kinds of pity too, and perhaps some guilt. 

There was something about the Christmas party that sorta had you feeling down, and you weren’t quite sure what it was, though perhaps it was simply because there were many things that had bothered you and you just couldn't pin it down to one thing. 

It was something about meeting some of your friends’ other friends, and even some of their new partners. You hadn’t drunk anything, and perhaps it would’ve been worse for you if you did — you tended to get a bit more emotional while drunk. 

All in all, you just felt… left out. And like you were missing something, or like you never wanted to be there at all. 

You wanted to be somewhere you belonged and where your presence was not only enjoyed but needed — somewhere it was warm and loving and kind and soft. 

While seeing all your friends together with their new ones and their partners, you just kept thinking of Wanda.

And you really hated yourself for it. 

You wanted to go home to see her, and you knew you couldn’t stop it, because you’d been thinking of her all night. So you drank enough to feel just a little drunk — to get just enough confidence to make a bad decision — and went back home early. 

From the window facing the street, you could see through the curtains that the living room lamp was on.

Wanda opened the door when you knocked like she said she would. From the door, you could see a book laying on the couch. She smiled at the sight of you. 

“Did you have fun?” she asked immediately, stepping back a bit to allow you in. Then she said sympathetically after taking a better look at you, “You look a bit tired.”

You thanked the stars for having taken a few shots before you left. 

You stepped into the house and wrapped your arms around Wanda, feeling the warmth of her knitted sweater against your cheek, then against the tip of your nose when you turned your head to bury your face in the crook of her neck. Her hair tickled the space between your eyebrows. 

There was a split moment before she wrapped her arms around you that would have been indiscernible if you hadn’t felt how immediate her embraces were a million-and-one times before. 

“Y/N, are you okay?” Wanda asked, having turned her head to look down at you so the breath of her soft whispered voice blew warm and gentle against your ear. 

“I wanna be your baby again,” you confessed — stupidly. 

Wanda tried to speak immediately for how she felt deep in her chest when you spoke the words she had only dreamt would come out of your mouth ever since the wedding, but found she could speak only in stutters. 

Then she finally said, “You’ll always be my baby, Y/N.”

You hugged her tighter and you knew that if you hadn’t been just a little bit drunk, you would’ve been angry at what she had just said. But now, it could nearly make you cry. 

“Can you bring me to bed?” you mumbled quietly into her neck, still seemingly a bit embarrassed through your drunken state. 

“Of course,” she answered, smiling down at you. This was the closest you’d been to her in months, and likely the longest you’ve spoken to her with undivided attention in that same span of time too. She almost didn’t want to move at all for how you’d unwrap your arms from around her once you headed up the stairs together. 

You unwrapped yourself from around her body and she closed and locked the front door; you’d literally just been standing embracing each other in the wide-open doorway for several moments. 

Then you swiped at your eyes when you pulled away in case you accidentally had cried. 

Wanda smiled at you sweetly, and a bit tiredly too, and you knew she must’ve finished her work a little bit ago and decided to stay up to wait for you. She took your hand and you walked up the stairs beside each other in silence. 

She squeezed your hand and you squeezed back, and Wanda looked over her shoulder at you shyly as you stared down at the steps of the staircase. 

“Can I help you get ready for bed?” she asked once you both arrived in front of the washroom. 

You nodded silently then looked up at her with a small smile. “I just have to get my stuff from my bags,” you told her. Then, a bit hesitantly, you let go of her hand and walked towards your bedroom. 

Wanda turned on the washroom light and paced around a little, playing with the knitted fabric of her sweater nervously and checking her hair a bit in the mirror, and even trying to repress a tiny smile as she couldn’t help but make comparisons to how it all used to be before the wedding. 

But she didn’t want to get ahead of herself — after all, every day after this would be different, and whatever had caused you to come seeking her comfort wasn’t guaranteed to happen again from tonight onwards. 

You came into the washroom with a little bag of your toiletries and started unpacking them, starting with makeup wipes and face wash then everything else. 

“Come lean against the counter,” Wanda said, and you did. She began removing your makeup with one of your makeup wipes, the fingers of her other hand delicately perched under your chin to keep your face in the light. 

She was gentle with how she swiped against your face, and thorough with taking all the makeup off. 

Wanda was always so nice and gentle. In taking care of you, and in treating you in any way, really, she always did it as if you were delicate, and special to her too. She never wanted to hurt you, never wanted to make you feel like you weren't the most important thing in the world to her. 

You felt like crying, but really didn’t want to ruin how casual you were trying to make everything seem. 

She must’ve noticed how your eyes were filling with tears because once she finished she set the makeup wipe down and held you to her chest wordlessly, running her hand down the side of your head soothingly with her other arm wrapped around your waist. 

She seemed to understand that you still had your reservations about being with her like this again, and that you weren’t trying not to get into things too quickly. 

Even so, she couldn’t help but… hope, even just a little, that the feeling of how she held you and brought you close might make you miss her enough to want to be her baby again for more than just an evening. 

“I’m gonna brush my teeth and stuff,” you mumbled and straightened out of her hold, swiping at your eyes again.

Wanda packed up your makeup wipes and slid it back into the toiletry bag you brought. 

Quietly, you asked, “Can I sleep with you?”

You weren’t really sure where to look when you asked, so you tried to keep busy getting your toothbrush ready. 

But when Wanda replied with a gentle, almost eager, ‘Of course,’ you couldn’t help but look over at her to see her smiling at you.

You looked away while she told you that she would also change and get ready while she waited for you — her shared bedroom had a washroom in it. 

Wanda felt ridiculous for how she felt in her stomach — a familiar fluttering feeling dancing around where it would when you were still together. Sometimes Wanda reasoned the memory of the feeling up to a fantasy, that perhaps she may have recalled it as differently as it had been for it’d been so long since she’d felt it. 

But it was exactly the same as she recalled. 

And it was only with you. 

She hadn’t realized she had been smiling until she heard you come into the bedroom, and she instinctively relaxed her face so as to not be overzealous and overwhelm you. 

“Are you ready for bed?” she asked, closing the door of the walk-in closet as she stood in her pajama shorts and tank. 

You nodded then looked away from her for how happy you felt to be asked that, to soon be adorned by Wanda’s kisses and touched by her gentle, loving hands and embraced by her arms the moment you got into bed. 

Wanda seemed to be hesitant at your reluctance for a moment. Her fingers twitched with the urge to walk over and embrace you, to kiss your lips and lead you to her bed. But instead, restraining herself, she went to bed first, getting under the covers and looking over at you encouragingly. 

Silently, you followed after closing the bedroom door. 

She turned off the lamp on her side and you hesitated for a moment before you reached over and did the same. 

Then you were blanketed in the darkness of the bedroom, and for a moment you couldn’t see Wanda in your peripheral vision at all; you could for a moment construe the feelings of blankets under your hands as being in your own bed instead of hers. 

For a moment you felt glad to imagine you had made it all up, but then you felt terribly disappointed and lonely again. 

Without Wanda, it was always just a little bit… lonely. 

But the burst of sudden feelings was contained only within a few moments’ time, for your eyes soon adjusted and you could see the shadow of your stepmother beside you. 

She reached out for you, her hand moving under the blankets and placing it on your bare thigh. She moved closer. 

“Don’t be nervous,” she said quietly. “It’s okay.”

You’d been here before — in Wanda’s bed without your dad being home, in her company, in the spotlight of her undivided attention, in the warm shower of all her heart could pour out for you and only you. 

It was was familiar with Wanda and you knew it for it was the closest thing you’d felt in a while to being somewhere you were certain you belonged in. 

Then she added, “I want you here, Y/N.”

Like you had asked her, Wanda babied you — she cared for you. Her other hand wrapped around your waist and she slowly urged your body to lay down beside her. 

She didn’t stop there; she moved herself onto her elbow only slightly to gain height over you, then cupped your furthest cheek with her hand. She kissed your face gently, tenderly, on your temple then on your cheekbone, and your chin. 

Not your lips — not unless it was you who made an advance towards her first. 

You turned and wrapped an arm around her torso securely, burying your face in her chest. She lowered herself back down and wrapped her arms around you immediately. 

Squeezing your eyes shut, you muttered against her, “I love you.”

In the morning when you arose before her, you carefully peeled yourself away from a soundly-sleeping Wanda. There was a pang in your chest as you sat at the edge of the bed, recalling how she held you close after you had told her you loved her.

She held you in a way that communicated desperation and longing; it wasn’t only sweet and tender like she always was, but pained, too. She had cradled the back of your head to her chest, rubbed your upper back and pressed her lips against the top of your head. 

She might’ve nearly said that she loved you a fourth time, though you presumed she had tried to contain the way she wanted to pour herself out for you right then and there. 

You turned and watched as she dozed, her body the very same that you were held against through the night, the same you had thrown yourself into her arms of and were accepted and loved and cared for like you wanted, like Wanda wanted. 

How at peace she seemed having gone to sleep with you in her arms, with all she had been longing for warm in her embrace and sleeping in the eternal comfort of her loving. 

If you were honest with yourself, and you tried to be for how often you lied to Wanda, you didn’t think it was a lie when you told her you loved her, for you still did. 

And you still could, inviting her over to your place and responding to her calls and texts when you were away, letting her care for you and at the very least not pretend she wasn’t always looking at you, waiting only for your eye contact as cue for her to bring up one of the dozens of questions and worries she had about the life that you no longer shared with her — which was to say, all of it. 

Wanda stirred and her fingers flexed outwards slightly, reflecting a slowly-rising sun’s beams against her wedding ring, before she relaxed again, still in deep sleep. 

Just under an hour later once Wanda woke up to find you gone, she texted asking where you were. 

When she texted, you knew that she must have looked first to see if you had moved to your own bed, for you had left and decided to go on a drive. 

She messaged: Have you gone out?

Sitting in a parking lot of a walking trail with the breakfast you picked up, the sun only just having fully risen, you texted back. 

Forgot something at Kate’s last night.

She asked if you were going to eat breakfast there or if you would be home to have breakfast with her; she’d make some now so it could be ready by the time you got back. 

You tried to keep eating after choosing to leave your stepmother on read, but soon lost your appetite. Instead, you went on a walk that lasted until the early afternoon when your dad got back home. 

As you had planned, you went back to your place on the second of January, and that evening wasn’t ever brought up. 

[queers-gambit]

Tell Me Every Terrible Thing

[ part one of two ]

prompt: you embark on a secret but passionate affair with the Rogue Prince, and when his wife, Rhea Royce, passes away, he chooses you to wed next - a decision that angers his niece and changes history.

pairing: Daemon Targaryen x female!Hightower!reader only description given: red hair

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.6k+

note: what the fuck is this, Cherry? also two parts 'cause author gets carried away!

warnings: show spoilers, cursing, author has small bouts of feministic ideas, author also really likes the "little birds" storyline (let her live!), wonky brain is wonky, i think hurt and comfort, angst, very mild NSFW (brief female receiving oral), technically alternative timeline 'cause this goofy-ass author has an overactive imagination, #icanmakehimworse, another reader-episode-insert (this warning is for the fucking losers in my inbox).

part two: "Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, And Let Me Love You Anyway," - Edgar Allan Poe

"How angry do you think he'll be with me?"

You offered your best friend, The Realm's Delight, Crowned Heir to the Iron Throne, Princess Rhaenyra, a unamused, stale look. Sarcastically, you replied, "Oh, come now, Nyrie, why would your father be angry? It couldn't be because you rejected every suitor His Grace put before you, or even how you abruptly ended the tour with two months remaining. What father would be angry after that?"

She groaned, "I know, I know, you don't have to be so right all the bloody time. I just... I couldn't do it anymore, you saw what it was like," her head bowed and you knew the girl was truly overwhelmed by her 'job' picking a suitor.

"This was no easy feat to arrange, Princess," you spoke diplomatically, aware of the ship's crew dotting around the royal ship. "Our fathers went through much difficulty to ensure this tour's success, Princess, and I'd imagine neither will be thrilled by our early arrival."

"But it's just - "

"I know," you soothed with a knowing, sympathetic smile. Your arm extended around her, her head dropping to your shoulder for comfort. "In an ideal world, women would have a real say in their futures. Perhaps, that is what you're meant to do, Nyrie... Perhaps you're meant to break this wheel, give the other half of humanity a fighting chance against the men who have long suppressed us. Being heir is a monumental stereotype to shatter, but most women are not born into royalty and have nobody protecting or defending them."

She picked her head up to stare at you for a single moment, then nodded slowly, "That's a lot of pressure."

"Less if you pick a respectable man to help you lead," you advised softly, reaching to caress her cheek briefly. "You're to be Queen, Nyra, which means you need a King Consort that the common folk will respect, who will play his part in the courts to come. I know it's not ideal, my friend, but it's not meant to be - it's meant to be strategic." You paused, adding, "Similar to Ali marrying your father, yes? That was a strategic move on my father's end. Now it's up to you to chose your own match, to plot your own strategy."

"Who would you see me marry?"

"In truth? I'm unsure if anyone would fit the bill perfectly, so, I don't know who I could see you with. Definitely someone smart, though."

She only hummed, sighing deeply and making you frown. Before another word could be said, there came a distant screech that sounded all too familiar - though you refused to let it show that you knew this particular dragon's sound.

Nyra moved away from the ship's railing to stare longingly up into the sky, and about a minute later, without visible sight of any threat, Ser Criston Cole was shouting, "Take cover!"

And then, like a bird swooping to snatch a fish, a crimson dragon descended from the cover of clouds - seemingly materializing from nowhere. The large, long, slithery beast with wings knocked into the ship's main mast; jolting everyone on board enough to topple over.

You tried to stabilize the Princess, but you lost balance and dropped to your knees as Cole rushed to help Rhaenyra to her feet. When able, you looked to the sky; grinning to yourself as you recognized the retreating Blood Wyrm. Seeing the distinct form of Caraxes made you giddy with anticipation, however, that was short lived as you clocked Rhaenyra's gaze of awe and wonder.

It seems she was excited for her uncle's return, too. Though, it won't be till later that you learn the extent of her adoration.

Less than an hour later, the ship was docking and you escorted Princess Rhaenyra from aboard; her guards surrounding you both as you trekked to the Red Keep. "Just... Perhaps try to stay invisible," you advised your friend, arm-in-arm. "The King won't be pleased if you interrupt court, even just by being there. With luck, we won't be noticed."

She agreed softly, continuing on. She started fiddling with her necklace, the piece of Valyrian Steel jewelry that her uncle, Daemon, had gifted her years ago before Queen Aemma passed away. Your lover had told you the Princess was owed a piece of her Valyrian history, and since he could not gift a sword to a young lady, the necklace was chosen, crafted, and gifted.

When you returned to the Red Keep, it was just in time for court to be called to session and your friend was all too eager to join. "Nyra," you warned, hand in hers.

"It's all right," she assured, "come, it must be Daemon - "

"No, I should return to my chamber. Don't piss your father off too much," you warned her with a smirk, watching her grin in response, squeeze your hand, and then file into the Throne Room with the other members of court.

You retreated to your old room, sighing in relief when you discovered nothing was disturbed. "My Lady!" A voice gasped at the open door. You glanced over, smiling at Milah, your usual handmaiden, and opening your arms when she rushed forward. "You're not supposed to be back yet! Oh!" She tutted, looking you over. "I'll get your bed made and - "

"No, it's fine - "

"Nonsense, let me do this," she insisted, already busying around the room. "I was wondering why they were bringing things into the foyer - must be all the Princess' luggage, hmm?"

"Yeah," you sighed, helping her strip the bed and change the sheets. "It was strange," you admitted, "the men, I mean, and the way they all competed for her hand in marriage."

"Did you expect anything else?"

"I did not think they'd honestly kill one another. Though it was more so their pride than the Princess they fought over."

Milah smirked, "Sounds about right. Well, what of you? Anyone catch your eye?"

"Of course not," you sighed a little sadly.

"Still hung on the Prince, aren't you, my Lady?"

"Perhaps," you mused.

You spent the better part of an hour gossiping with Milah before she had to go grab a few things, but promised she'd send your belongings up as soon as possible. You thanked her, walked her out, assuring you were just going to get a bath or something, and just as you shut and locked your chamber door, gasped when a pair of hands seized your waist.

"Daemon!" You hissed when you saw the short, white locks of your surprise guest. "The bloody fuck is wrong with you?" You demanded, turning in his grip to shove your hands into his chest. "What're you doing here? Want to get us caught?"

"Three years," he grit, gathering you in his arms to heave upward and force your legs around his waist if you wanted to keep balance, "three fucking years I've been gone - away - missing you, do not deprive me a moment more."

"Someone will come looking," you whispered, caressing his face as your forehead met his. "And perhaps I want a moment to just look at you, 's been years," you breathed. "You cut your hair," you commented, running your hands through the short strands.

"I cut my hair," he agreed softly, just holding you close and tight.

"I like it... But I'll miss braiding it."

"I will, too," he admitted. He nuzzled closer, inhaling your neck sharply, boldly licking a flat tongue up your pulse point to make you shudder lightly.

"Daemon," you whispered, pulling his head back so you could look in his eyes, beaming, "I missed you, too."

"Viserys is arranging a lunch for my return," he informed, turning so he could approach your newly-made four-poster bed; dropping you flat on your back with a grin. "Which roughly translates into only allotting a few minutes to make up for lost time."

"We will have time later - "

"I overheard Viserys saying he and Otto intend to take evening tea with you regarding the Princess' return from tour," he eased, reaching to spread your legs, bunching your skirts. "But I will call upon you tomorrow? Yes? Officially?"

"If you insist," you teased, letting him finally descend to smash his lips against yours. In truth, you were used to his empty promises of 'calling on you officially' because of his marriage to Lady Royce, but it was his way of telling you without words that he wished it was you instead of Rhea.

Daemon groaned, melting into your form; breathing heavily. "I've missed you past words," he whispered, nuzzling your nose with his. "But for now, I just need a taste - "

"We don't have time - "

"We'll be fast. Tell me, love," he nipped your pouting lips, soothing his tongue over the puckered skin, "have you taken another in my absence?"

"Of course not," you hissed in offense.

"Good," he nodded, kissing you sweetly.

"Need I ask?"

"There were no concubines," he mused, "though, they were offered, I did not accept. So, we'll be quick - faster than quick," he promised, pawing at your undergarments and exposing your dampening cunt to his sight. "I'll take my time with you later, but for now, I need this," he all but seethed before diving tongue-first into your core.

His spit mixed with your arousal, creating a slippery mess.

"Shit," you hissed, grabbing his shorter hair as his tongue flattened to lap at your entrance, dripping in your essence. One of his hands held your thighs apart for his access, the other releasing his cock from the pair of breeches he wore. Daemon groaned at the taste of you, lapping wildly like a man starved, and stroking his bare cock in rhythm with his ministrations.

It truly took no time at all once he found your clit and sucked mercilessly, the hand holding your thighs now extended up to paw roughly at your tits. Alternating his tongue around your sloppy cunt added to your heightening pleasure, swirling his tongue as he bobbed and shook his head - making an absolute mess, and causing your climax to shatter your mind and soul.

Your legs twitched, spine curled, stomach contracted as your arms quivered from the rush of adrenaline; hand slapped over your mouth to keep your moans to a minimum. You grabbed his hair so tightly, he groaned in mock pain; legs then contracting to a suffocating grip around his ears and head while Daemon met his own end, spending in his hand whilst milking you for all you had.

He panted with satisfaction when he pulled back, grinning at you in mischief when you released your hold on him. "Good fuckin' girl," he praised, standing to his feet only to slither over top of you. "Like not a day's gone by, huh?" He whispered, kissing you messily, smearing your cum on your tongue; grinding his bare cock into your recovering core to make you shudder. "Take a moment, then get ready," he whispered. "I expect to see you at the celebrations... Wear that dress I got you for your fifth-and-twentieth nameday," he smirked, adding, "if you'd so please, my darling."

You chuckled, "You magically learned manners during the war?"

"Perhaps," he mused, pecking your lips again.

"Hey, Daemon?"

"What is it, my sweet one?" He asked, seeing the sincerity in your eyes and hearing the seriousness in your voice - something in his heart jumping.

"Would you tell me about it all later? The war, I mean? Would you tell me what you've endured?"

"I do not think it's a tale befitting a lady's ears."

"Please? I wish to know..."

"Then I will tell you," he promised, "but only if you wear that dress."

Your eyes rolled in humor as Daemon stood. You watched him wipe his cum on a spare rag, tossing it away, and after one last kiss, was leaving out of the secret passageway's door. Taking another moment, you finally stood on weak legs and unlocked the main door, preparing how you could for your day before Milah returned.

After arriving at the luncheon, you made a beeline for your father, greeting him happily before explaining your surprise reappearance. He filled you in on that day's court, explaining that Prince Daemon was back; and you felt almost guilty for the way your skin was still set ablaze from your lover's earlier visit.

For all Otto's faults, he was still your father, and you felt guilty for sneaking around with Daemon behind his back. Your father ushered you off to mingle, insisting he was only there for the King; and no, he wasn't hungry. So, you parted ways with a chaste peck to your forehead; the feeling of his scratchy beard lingering on your guilt-riddled flesh.

"Sister, what a surprise!" Alicent happily distracted by greeting you with a bright grin. You adjusted course to approach the Queen, King, and newly-returned Prince. "Oh, what a lovely dress you've chosen," she complimented with ease, reaching for your hand. "You always do have the best eye for clothes, I feel as if need you to live in my wardrobe, tell me what to wear everyday."

"Thank you, Your Grace, I'd be honored," You smiled at her, holding her hand, looking to the others. "My King," you curtsied to Viserys, glancing at Daemon and bowing your head respectfully, "my Prince, how nice to see you, again. Welcome home."

"Thank you, my Lady," he smirked. "Might I welcome you home as well? I hear you've been gone from the Capital."

You hummed with a nod, "I was on tour with the Princess, my Prince. I've only arrived home today, as well - though not by dragonback."

He eyed you up and down, offering, "I must agree with the Queen, my Lady, that is a lovely dress you've chosen."

You pet the black material, smiling genuinely, "Thank you, my Prince. It's one of my favorites."

"I can see why, given how beautiful you look," he flirted, and from behind you and Alicent, you could hear your father scoff.

"Thank you," you whispered. "What conversation did I rudely interrupt before?"

"Oh, nothing of importance," Daemon told you, looking to his brother and your sister.

"Because we spoke of how Daemon, here, was always Mother's favorite," Viserys grinned. "Do you want to know, my Lady? About how much Mother adored Daemon?" He asked you, his little brother trying to drone over him - but Viserys was determined to tell you the examples he could think of regarding his brother's favoritism.

You giggled from both Viserys' stories and Daemon's evident embarrassment.

However, almost awkwardly, on Alicent's other side, Princess Rhaenyra approached the group and stood amongst you. You knew the King must be unhappy with his daughter, but did not voice any opinion since you were not the source of disappointment at the moment. Instead, you listened to the King's complimenting words to his brother; thinking it was interesting that Daemon was so egotistical and yet, flushed under his brother's praise. Princess Rhaenyra waited until a natural lull to tell Daemon, "Congratulations on your victory."

It was awkward as Viserys just glared at her, Rhaenyra's expression falling short. Daemon covered smoothly, "Thank you, Princess."

Trying to save the tension, your sweet sister offered, "Perhaps Prince Daemon would care for a tour of the gallery? He hasn't yet seen the new tapestries gifted to you by Norvos and Qohor."

Viserys nodded and whispered, "Oh, oh," mockingly. He asked his brother, "Would you like to see the tapestries?" But by the end, he broke character and laughed with his brother; the latter who whom you knew spat on trivial things - such as tapestries and such. Through their laughter, Viserys proclaimed to his wife, "He has no interest in such things!"

"But thank you for the offer, sister," you smiled at her, trying to reassure her when her husband laughed in her face. "The tapestries are very beautiful, you've chosen a grand place to display them. I saw them on my way here."

"I'd like to see them," Rhaenyra jumped in, seemingly to Alicent's aid - something she'd not done in an age considering the tension between them. You just smiled politely, seeing the way Viserys dropped his grin when he looked at his daughter with distain while the rest of you looked away sheepishly.

"Then you should not deprive yourself."

Rhaenyra offered a pained, pursed smile, "I shall enjoy them alone."

You, Alicent, and Daemon all stared after Rhaenyra with varying degrees of pity as she walked away to sit solemnly by herself on a distant bench while Viserys went on about his and Daemon's youth; over Daemon being their mother's favorite. However, Alicent excused herself to follow the saddened Rhaenyra, perhaps to offer the Princess comfort in her father's anger. The King looked ready to protest, but instead just shook his head in disappointment.

Viserys turned you and Daemon away from the sight of the girls, showing off the Godswood in bloom; your father approaching you three stiffly. "Your Grace," he bowed to Viserys, then nodded in resepct, "my Prince. Daughter," he smiled, trying to instigate, "how was tour with Princess Rhaenyra?"

"Oh, as eventful as a Royal Tour can be," you smiled, deflecting, "though I must admit, while seemingly exciting at some parts, I'm sure it pales terribly in comparison to the Prince's adventures in the Stepstones." Viserys smirking broadly at your redirection. "I do wonder, what brought the war to an end? We've heard rumor, but surely the Prince might know for sure what brought the Triarchy down?"

"Surely," The King nodded, looking to Daemon expectedly.

The Rogue Prince smirked and readjusted his stance, deflecting, "Perhaps a conversation for later."

"Oh, come now, brother!"

"Your Grace," Otto interrupted, "I do apologize, but there are matters at hand that require your attention. The Tully's still - "

He sighed and waved your father off, "Yes, yes... Well," Viserys nodded, "I'll call upon you both later."

"Your Grace," you instantly curtsied.

"Your Grace," Daemon bowed right after. Viserys smiled and nodded back at you both, patted his brother's shoulder, turned, and when he walked away, Otto followed with a single look to you and Daemon.

"Daughter," he bid curtly - and you read between the lines. He really wanted to say, "Do not linger around the Prince."

When the King moved, his usual procession of advisors, guards, and entourage followed right after. You sighed as almost all of the Godswood cleared out, Daemon eyeing you as he readjusted his stance; subtly reaching out to pet your hand with his fingers.

"Daemon," you warned quietly.

"Nobody is watching us," he smirked. "You look beautiful, love. I'll have to buy you more dresses, you wear them so well."

"I cannot believe I will not see you tonight," you whispered with a pout.

"I will call on you tomorrow," he reminded.

You opened your mouth, but another voice answered. "Sister," Alicent called, you looking over and smiling innocently. You caught sight of Princess Rhaenyra glaring at her uncle, but didn't think much of it.

"I look forward to your tales from the Stepstones," you told him calmly, offering a curtesy.

He took your hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back, "I look forward to any time spect together, my Lady."

You hummed in contentment before stepping away, instantly taking Alicent's arm when close enough. "What was that about? Daemon looks so smitten!" She whispered with a growing grin.

"He was being polite," you whispered back, "and simply being Daemon - you know how he is. He's got three years of mischief to make up for."

"I see," she giggled. "He's quite handsome with the short hair, isn't he? It suits him well."

"I have to agree," you gossiped. "I can see why the ladies of court have missed him so."

Your younger sister giggled, smiling at you, offering, "I've missed you greatly. Come... I wish to hear of your time away."

"Oh, sister, please, I've only just returned."

"But... Wouldn't you tell me before the King?" She whispered.

You paused, then nodded, "Got me there, sister-dearest."

"We'll take tea together," she decided, leading you around the Keep until she saw a familiar face she knew. "Talya, my sister and I wish to take tea in the gardens, please. Privately, of course, so do not announce it," she directed the handmaiden. "We'll be in the gazebo in the rose gardens, bring tea, sandwiches, and my sister's always loved those peach crumbles?"

"I know the dessert," she nodded, smiling at you. "Can I interest you, Your Grace, in anything specific?"

"No, but bring enough for us both. Come, sister."

You three parted ways, Alicent leading you to the gardens as promised. She dismissed anyone in the area, even telling her guards to wait at the front hedges to give you ideal privacy while deeper in the roses at the gazebo. While sitting, you exchanged gossip about what happened while you were away, Alicent happy to catch you up because she was happy to finally have a friend, even if it were a sister, back in her corner.

You were happy, too.

While you loved Rhaenyra, the tension between her and Ali made you feel in the middle despite both parties assuring you "you weren't". Nyra was a good friend, your best, even! But it was something about your sister that was calming and assuring. She was trustworthy to a fault, but she was still your strongest pillar.

As Talya dressed your table with tea, lemon water, sandwiches, fruits, and other foods (including the peach crumbles), you giggled at Ali's retelling of whatever failed proposals occurred this past season you were away. When alone, at last, Ali turned to you in her padded chair and asked, "Tell me in truth, how was the tour? Why did you return early?"

"In truth, sister, vying men made the Princess uncomfortable. She did not need the two months more, she knew she was unhappy with the men so far presented to her."

Alicent sighed, "So, who does she intend to marry?"

"Yes," a new voice agreed, you both jumping in shock and looking up to see Viserys approaching with your father behind him. "Who does my daughter intend to wed, Lady Hightower?"

"Your Grace," you uttered, both you and Alicent standing in respect to bow your heads.

"Please, please," he permitted you both to sit, taking the lone chair across the table as your father remained standing. "I only wish for the unfiltered truth. I know what is said, I know what is reported, I know..." He sighed, "I know what my daughter might say, but please, Lady Hightower, what is the truth of it?"

"The truth, Your Grace, is that Rhaenyra was overwhelmed. Perhaps it was too long for her that she eventually, I'm not sure, shut down? She did not care towards the end which men was presented, she was overwhelmed with the options and pace at which everything moved."

"Kings and Princes before her have done the same, many Queens and Princesses embarking on their tours to find proper suitors," Otto reminded. "Why was this different, my Lady?"

"Because she is the first," you reminded. "Never before has a woman been named heir - she holds a different responsibility. Perhaps having everything thrown at her was too much, she has to filter through lesser men that would be King Consort. Nobody stood out, she became discouraged, and honestly, Your Grace?" You spoke earnestly, "I think it just made her sad. She did not want to disappoint you by choosing a man not worthy of being her King, so, she would rather face your anger in coming home early."

Alicent frowned but nodded to herself.

Otto adverted his eyes.

Viserys looked dejected, but sighed, "I see... Thank you for your words, my Lady, truly, you've always been a trustworthy advisor to the Queen, Princess, and I."

"It's the least I can do, Your Grace, since you and Queen Aemma - you - you were so kind to me when Mother passed. And Rhaenyra - to both Alicent and I - she was a true friend. I am in debt to you, Your Grace, and whatever I can do, be it just a simple different perspective, I am happy to provide."

"Well," he considered, "in the spirit of your unfiltered perspective, who would you see Rhaenyra marry?"

You blinked in shock, "Oh, Your Grace, I-I am not qualified to say."

"You serve as my Master of Whispers, do you not?" He smirked. "Speak, please."

You sighed deeply. With a small gulp, you blinked twice, then admitted, "I do not think my opinion matters, but... It would make sense to marry her to Ser Laenor Velaryon, would it not? He's a warrior who survived the Stepstones, is of Valyrian stock and blood, rides the dragon, Seasmoke. He's kind, brave, true, unmarried, heir to Driftmark. I think when it comes to filling the position of King Consort, Ser Laenor Velaryon would make a fine candidate."

Apparently, this was all Viserys needed to hear.

You could not sleep that night. You could not explain why, but something foul was in the air and prevented you from drifting off. So, you chose to browse your private library, select a literary favorite, and stroll the deadened halls of the Red Keep; reading by flickering torch light.

Good thing you were up and out, because one of your Little Birds chirped at you from the shadows. You looked around to see nobody in the hall, but another chirp directed your attention to a darkened alcove. "Hmm, oh, Kaela," you hummed, approaching her slowly and bending at the waist. "What is it, child?"

"I came as fast as I could."

"What's wrong?"

"I've seen something - something you'll want to know," she glanced up and down the hall, "but not anyone else."

"Come," you whispered, pushing her further back into the dark and sheltering yourselves safely. Once knelt before her, you asked the child, "All right. What is it you have seen, little one?"

"Do not get angry, my Lady..."

"I promise I won't," you spoke softly, confused - you never got angry at your Little Birds... Why start now?

"I-I saw... I saw the Prince Daemon and... Princess Rhaenyra."

You nodded slowly, asking quietly, "Where?"

"In the city, in a pleasure house."

You blinked, "And what were they doing?"

"What grown-ups do."

"I see. They were coupling?"

She shrugged, "No, just kissing, but it stopped fast. He left her there."

"He left her there? In the pleasure house?"

The little girl nodded. "The Prince looked sad... When the Princess tried to kiss him again, he pulled away... Then he left."

"Where did he go? After?"

She blinked, frowning, "My brother, Grenn, said he saw him at the pubs - but he was always on the move, very drunk. I came here right away."

"Good girl," you smiled, offering her whatever Gold Dragons from the pouch you usually kept on your person under your robe for times like this. "Where will you be tomorrow evening? I will bring you and Grenn supper."

She smiled, "We can meet you at the dock!"

"The dock?"

"He likes watching the boats."

"The docks, then. By the Fisherman's Pier?"

"No, Grenn like the Harper's Pier. They're not there around supper, they're still out at sea."

"Harper's Pier for supper," you agreed. "Go on."

The little girl looked around before scampering off down a different passageway and you stood from your knelt position with a stony look of tentative contemplation on your face. With a deep breath, you did the only thing you thought you could... You went to your father.

With a rapid knock at his chamber door, it took a moment or two before he was opening it - still dressed. "What is it, daughter?" He asked gruffly. "It's late, this should wait till morning."

"The castle is about to wake - "

"I know and I've much to attend to - "

"Father," you hissed, glancing up the hall.

He sighed and let you in, "What is it?"

"I carry scandalous news," you muttered, his door's lock echoing around you. "About the Princess Rhaenyra."

He turned to you sharply, you taking a step back in surprise. "You... Know?"

"About her sneaking around in a pleasure house?"

Otto frowned, "Do you know with who?"

You could not tell him, so you answered, "No, just that she was seen in disguise."

"Who told you this?"

"One of my Birdies."

"All right," he decided, nodding to himself, "thank you, daughter, for reporting this. I will... I will figure out what to say to the King."

"Should you say anything?"

"I'll figure it out - but now we both know."

You nodded, "So you knew before I came?"

"I was awoken an hour ago to hear this news."

You nodded slowly, "Then I will leave you to it."

"Thank you," he whispered, letting you peck his cheek in parting before slipping out of his chambers. With nothing left to do or anything else to say, you went back to your chambers as to limit your exposure to the castle's tenants.

The less that could say they saw you this night, the better.

Once safe in your chambers with a locked main door, you could do nothing else but (over)think, wishing to all the Seven Gods you didn't know what you knew. Information and knowledge was vital to maintain power, this is true, but it also made you dangerous - also a target. The more you knew, the bigger the target.

It was only a few hours after dawn when the secret passage doors to your chamber opened. You were braiding your hair, ignoring the man you knew to have the only balls to use that door - especially now.

"I've always wondered, if we had children, would they have white hair or waves of fire, like you? Perhaps something between?"

"Fuck off, Daemon."

"So, you've heard," he sighed deeply. "Won't you even look at me?"

"I can't stand the very thought of you right now, nor the actual sound, I'll lose my stomach if I have to look at you."

"Let me tell you the truth," he begged, "before I have to leave the Keep, let me tell you the truth. Let Viserys and everyone have their ideas and opinions, their lies and slander, but let me tell you!"

"Excuse me?" You asked, whirling around in your seat to glare at him fully. "Viserys banished you, again?"

"He did... Back to the Vale."

You scoffed, "Good... Your Lady wife awaits you."

"Viserys thinks I've sullied Rhaenyra's virtue. I do not need you thinking the same, so, please, let me tell you what happened - no matter how uncomfortable, please, let me tell you the truth."

"What difference does it make?"

"I can't have you thinking something more occurred. Was I tempted? Yes, but I refrained. Did I touch her? A little - but not how you think."

You sighed, shaking your head, "I don't care, you're returning to your wife in the Vale, and I will be rid of you. No matter for how long this time, you will be gone - "

"For a time, yes, but I intend to return for you."

"No, I think I'll let Father make me a match. I despised the North, it was too cold, so the handsome Cregan Stark is out. I don't mind Dorne, perhaps a Martel to marry? Or even a Tully of Riverrun?"

"Do not speak such atrocities to me."

"You're one to talk! Your niece, Daemon? The girl I consider my closest friend? You couldn't just find that whore you like and be satisfied with her? Couldn't wait a single day, could you? Huh? How fucking pathetic!"

"Perhaps you are not as close with Rhaenyra as you thought," he tisked, making you feel disarmed. He spent the next hour and a half explaining to you what happened the previous night, and despite your disgust, you just listened.

Knowledge was power.

"I will return," he sighed at the end, "and in that time, you can make your own decisions if you want me or not. But I will return and I will have you, if you will have me, and this foolishness will be behind us."

"I'll give you a single year. I will not wait for you longer than that," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "I can't stand that you've done this, but I will wait one single year for you to find a way out of your marriage and back to me. Any longer than that, and I will simply move on. I do not want to live my whole life in the Red Keep, and the truth of it is, I cannot live in the Princess' shadow any longer. One year, Daemon."

"One year," he nodded, stepping closer. "My love, please - "

"Do not assume to touch me. Not after you've touched her," you snapped, stepping away. "Get out, I need to be alone, you have been banished - you need to go, you cannot be seen here." Your eyes rolled, muttering, "Probably have to go collect your whore for this banishment, too."

"Not this time," he smirked, "this time, I leave with my promise that I will return for you, my sweet Lady Hightower."

"Fuck off, you perverted Prince Daemon," you sassed, watching him slip out the door; shutting you in an echoing silence. Your heart ripped itself apart, making you wonder what the fuck you had done to deserve getting caught in such a scandalous affair. But you knew, in your heart, you'd do anything for Daemon - the thought sickening your stomach as you pondered how far this would all go.

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[suiana]

yandere! villain x gn! villain reader x yandere! hero part 2

"I don't want to remember anymore."

"It hurts so much."

The villain rubs your back, crouching beside you as you sob into your palms. He stays silent, allowing you to wallow in misery as he stays beside you, a sign of comfort.

Contrary to popular belief, the villain was much more sympathetic than the world class hero who was once your boyfriend. It was a sad situation. Because who would've guessed that your boyfriend whom you loved with all of your heart would just give you away like that?

Sure your relationship was falling apart but he had claimed that he loved you! And he wasn't one to lie, no, not at all! He had always kept his promises! So why would he break one as important as his love for you?

Were those 'I love you's' nothing more than lip service? What about all those times he smiled so sweetly at you that you felt you could just die? Was that nothing more than an act?

It can't be. You refuse to believe it.

"He's such an asshole... I loved him-! I truly did!"

You continued to weep into your palms as the villain remains silent. Did this make him uncomfortable? You sniffled, rubbing away your tears as you turned away from the villain, murmuring apology after apology as you tried to calm yourself down.

You didn't want to burden him after all. Not when he had graciously taken you in, shown you more love than your ex boyfriend ever did and practically spoiled you with attention and riches! And he wasn't even your boyfriend!

Yeah he might've be been the reason why your boyfriend gave you up but still! Your boyfriend didn't even make any signs of trying to keep you with him!

You still couldn't understand why he did what he did. And it still hurts you till this day, a month after his betrayal. Your eyes began to sting once more, tears pricking as the villain sighs and kneels down in front of you. You looked up at him, tears rolling down your stained cheeks as he beckoned for you to use him as comfort to which you gladly accepted.

"I want to forget... Forget everything he did... Oh... It hurts so much! My heart is bleeding!"

You wept into his chest, temporarily ignoring the fact that you're staining his shirt with tears and snot. But it's not like the villain minded. For he merely caressed your head, gently soothing you as he looks at you like you're the only thing in the world.

"Then... I'll help you forget."

The villain mumbles into your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist. He gently rubs his hands on your sides, the heat of his body distracting you momentarily as your breath hitches.

He nibbles on your earlobe as your heart races, flustered at his intimate touches and the tone of his voice. The rich tone, the slight hint of seduction... Was he implying that he sleep with you to forget?

"...Such a pretty thing like yourself... Should never be crying over a man like him."

Your blush only grows as he stares into your eyes, a small smile playing on his lips as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Yes... You didn't need the hero anymore. Not when you had this man here with you. Someone who would actually appreciate you and your efforts.

And you just knew that he was being genuine with his feelings.

How? It was quite simple, really. Would any other man build statues of you? Offer to blow up the world just to see you happy? Or give you the right to end his life whenever you felt like he was being too rude to you?

The fact that he never forced you to reciprocate either was something you really appreciated. I mean, he was a villain! You'd expect him to force you to love him after his devotion... But he never did anything like that.

And it causes your heart to flutter. To flutter in a way that it never did when you were with the hero. So, perhaps it was time to repay the villain for everything he's done for you? It's fine if he's obsessed. At least he loves you.

But it turns out you two were both thinking very different things.

"My dear I meant that I can alter your memory... Though if you'd prefer we do that... I'm not opposed to it~"

The attractive villain chuckles as you stare at him wide-eyed. You quickly button back your shirt as you hide your face in his chest. Ah! What a pervert you were... Don't worry, he loves it <3

"I love you darling ♡"

You soon fell asleep. And when you awoke, you were in the villain's lap, your head against his chest as he reads a book. Why were your eyes so tired..? Were you crying? Why?

"...My dear, why was I-"

"We watched a sad movie together. It's okay if you forgot, I'll be here to remind you."

Ah, so that's why. You nodded, looking up at your lover with delighted eyes as you kissed his cheek. Hm... Now that you woke up, you were in the mood for some destruction!

So that's what you two did. And what better place to destroy than your hometown? And so, the two of you stood in the middle of a destroyed city, holding hands and enjoying as it went up in flames.

A familiar man, aka the hero, stares at you both with wide eyes, running after you and your beloved villain as you two laugh at the destruction of your hometown. This city that you've once considered home... Yes, you were currently destroying it. Why? Because why not?

It betrayed you. Hurt you beyond imagination! Your parents never believed in you. Nor did the neighbours or anyone else, really! Calling you names, berating you... And more importantly, the stupid hero who refused to save you! Damn him!

It was a few years back if you weren't wrong. There was a villain attacking the shop you shopping at and you were trapped under some debris. You vividly remember the way he smiled at you, thinking you were saved, you outstretched your hand, whispering words of praise to him. But your hopes were crushed as he merely turned away, refusing to help you out. That was your last straw. the final thing that made you snap.

So you left, turning to a life of crime and villainy as your partner in crime helped you with everything. He was your ride or die, the one who helped you out in everything, he was all you needed.

After all, he took you in when no one else wanted to. Taught you all there was to being a villain, comforted you when no one else wanted to... To think that a villain would be more compassionate than a hero.

You grit your teeth as your hate for heroes grew exponentially, especially one particular male one. To call yourself a hero, you were supposed to help everyone, to be the bringer of justice. Yet why did he not do any of that for you?

You turned your head to face the hero as he approached you with soft steps. That look... Was he pitying you? You glared at him, frowning as he stammered on his words.

"y/n-! what are you-"

"And... who are you? To call me by that name, hm?"

You relished in the way his eyes widened, the way his jaw drops ever so slightly. Yes... That look! Fall into the pit of endless despair! Look at what he did to you! Regret it all!

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle as he fell to his knees, eyes shaking as he got on his knees and crawled to you. To think that the hero who refused to help you would be on his knees begging for your forgiveness. Ah, the feeling was just so satisfying~!

"You... You don't remember?"

You laughed.

"Remember? Of course I do. You left me to die."

His mouth went dry as he looked away from your eyes. Your eyes rolled, annoyed at his hypocrisy as you began to walk away to your lover. He had a smug look on his features as he welcomed yiu

"Goodbye hero. May the next time we meet be at your funeral."

And so the both of you left. Surprisingly enough, the hero just watched in guilty silence as he did nothing to stop you or the villain. Only observed quietly as the villain held a satisfied look on his features. Tears of pain and regret began to drop from him as your figure grew smaller, and smaller, until you were gone from view.

Officially disappearing from his life.

And it was all his fault.

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[d1xonss]

Older

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 6

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Suggestive (oop)

✧ Word Count : 5k

AN ~ …This one might need a part two, that’s all I’m going to say.

“Stop.”

Your mouth parted a little in shock that he had interrupted you, embarrassment filling your entire being as you could feel the heat rising up to your cheeks, no doubt leaving a red hue on your skin. You attempted to read him, trying to figure out what he was thinking just by his face and body language, but you were left with nothing. His expression was neutral, his arms were crossed over his chest as they always were, and his eyes didn’t even give you a flash of indication of what he planned to say next. Though somehow you had a feeling you knew it was something you would dread.

It had been years now that you had been crushing on the older man, from Atlanta to all the way here in your new homes in Alexandria, you had always felt these very strong feelings for him. And though you knew the age gap was definitely something to recognize, you never cared in the slightest as your fondness for him over the years only seemed to grow.

Daryl Dixon was a very serious man, though he mostly kept to himself, no one could deny that he was also a very kindhearted person. He was constantly putting others before himself, protecting nearly everyone in the group even if that meant his life was on the line instead, he did it as if it was just second nature to him. Like he didn’t even have to think before he acted. That’s what you admired most about him, only causing you to fall deeper than you already were, digging yourself further into the hole you couldn’t seem to escape.

It was hard for some to believe, but you truly tried to push these feelings aside, mostly because you thought there was no way in hell he would ever feel the same way about you. But it was growing to be unbearable, the secret you had been keeping to yourself for so long beginning to eat you up inside.

So you finally decided to bite the bullet and just tell him. You didn’t know what exactly compelled you to do so since you had such a huge fear of rejection from him and didn’t want him to see you differently, but still you just threw yourself into the lion’s den it seemed like. But there was a little hope you had when you approached him to confess. The soft smile playing on his lips was enough for you to spill everything, seeing that there was a small chance he might’ve felt something similar. It wasn’t a secret that he had grown to care for you too, so you guessed you could really take that chance.

But now all your hope diminished instantly when he interrupted your sentence with just one word. One single word that caused your stomach to flip. You felt yourself begin to panic a little as you stood there, seconds after pouring your heart out and laying everything out on the table, and he wanted you to stop. You suddenly wished you could take everything back in that split second, tell him you were joking or make something else up on the spot. Anything to escape from this sudden situation.

He then sighed heavily as he raised his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “Look…yer a really sweet girl and I care bout ya…but…ya can’t be sayin all this. M’ way too old for ya.”

Your heart seemed to drop upon hearing that, knowing in the back of your mind, that little aspect would be the thing he brought all his attention to. You had to admit however that it was a pretty big difference, twenty years to be exact where you stood at twenty-four while he was already pushing forty-five. But still, you were an adult and felt that you could make your own choices when it came to something like this, something that he wasn’t willing to listen to any longer.

Daryl noticed your silence, seeing the look you had on your face and he grew almost sympathetic as he looked at you. “Look ya can’t be…fallin for me. It ain’t right.”

That sentence seemed to break you out of your trance. Annoyance began to brew inside you as he was now starting to almost talk down on you as if you were a kid, crossing your arms over your chest in frustration. “Who are you to tell me what isn’t right?” you asked with furrowed brows.

He noticed your change in mood and only sighed to himself again, “I just mean that…” he trailed off as he never wanted to hurt you or deny you, but honesty was more important to him. And this was something he knew he needed to be blunt about. “I ain’t the guy for ya, no matter how ya feel. We’re just too far apart.”

“That’s not true.” you were quick to defend.

Daryl’s eyes narrowed the smallest bit, “It is true.” he said a bit more sternly, “Yer so young and m’ a lot older…besides I ain’t what they call boyfriend material…it would never work.” he claimed.

Your eyes narrowed even further, “I’m not just some kid Daryl, how old do you even think I am?” 

He scoffed to himself as he looked at you a little longer, “I dunno…” he spoke as he didn’t want you to really know the age that popped up in his head. If you were really as young as he thought, it would be disgusting to even think about being with you.

“I’m twenty four.”

His eyes widened slightly as he thought about your words for only a moment, before he went back to scoffing to himself, “Well if I didn’t know any better I’d say yer lyin.”

Your frustration only began to build up further as he didn’t believe you. Though maybe he did. Maybe he did believe you, he just didn’t want to believe you. He didn’t want to admit or accept that your age wasn’t as bad as he originally thought, he just put up a wall to defend himself like he always seemed to.

But you were prepared to call him out on his bullshit. “If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were scared.”

“Scared?” he repeated, his lip turning up into an amused smile, “And what am I scared of?”

“Scared of your own feelings.” you said with little to no hesitation at all, stating the obvious and seeing right through him.

The man’s expression remained the same, but something in his eyes flickered with something more, and you couldn’t help but smirk to yourself once you caught it. He stayed silent for what felt like an eternity, pondering over your words as he desperately didn’t want you to see his hesitance as he stood there with a straight face. But you had clearly caught on.

After almost minutes of deafening silence, he finally spoke again in a sarcastic tone, “So ya think ya got me all figured out then, huh?”

You could see his exterior cracking the smallest bit and decided to take a chance. You began to move forward slowly, closing the remaining space between the two of you from the opposite sides of where you stood in his living room. His eyes widened ever so slightly as you got almost uncomfortably close to him, your chests nearly touching as you looked up to him with big doe eyes.

“Yeah…yeah I do.” you answered barely above a whisper.

Daryl subtly sucked in a soft breath at your words, your close proximity, everything that just seemed to draw him in. He desperately wanted to take a few steps away, wanting to tell you something harsh so you would stop being so damn persistent, but he couldn’t seem to find the strength. He stood there almost completely frozen as his heart began beating rapidly, questioning if you could hear it in the silence with how close you were to him.

You could feel yourself smirk slightly as he grew completely silent again, nodding to yourself as you decided to stop tormenting him. At least for now. “Well…since you made your intentions clear…I guess I’ll just see you around then…” you said quietly before turning on your heel to leave his house, to leave him to his now racing thoughts.

His tongue seemed to be tied into a knot as all he could do was watch you leave through the front door, a heat blooming on his cheeks. He began questioning to himself if all of that really just happened, if he was really as transparent as you claimed he was. His mind began to spiral with thousands of thoughts, but not even he could deny that small spark he felt in his chest, one that he had never felt before.

The next day wasn’t any better for him, his mind constantly flooding with the thoughts of that small interaction, not stopping himself from thinking back to your confession as a whole. There was no way he could feel such a thing for someone as young as you…could he? It all felt very wrong and twisted in a way, but he couldn’t stop thinking of you constantly throughout the entire day, how complicated everything seemed to be. He didn’t pull away. Why the hell didn’t he pull away? It was almost as if he liked your closeness, being able to almost feel the warmth of your body…almost as if he craved it more than he realized.

Over the few years he had gotten to know you, he couldn’t deny that he thought you were very beautiful from the start, but he didn’t dare let his mind linger there for long. There was no way he could be with you, it all seemed so wrong to him in his mind and he had to put a stop to those thoughts immediately once they entered his mind. But with everything that went down yesterday, he couldn’t help but be reminded of those familiar feelings he once seemed to have long ago, seeing them rise back up to the surface before his very eyes. 

He needed to see you. He couldn’t help but think about you throughout the entire day as if you had somehow put him under a spell, compelling him to eventually crawl back. He didn’t know what he planned to say, he didn’t even know if he should even try to speak about this hovering matter anymore. But he physically needed to see you again. Even if it was just for a few minutes. He needed to feel that spark again.

So after his long patrol, he found himself heading straight towards your house the second he was finished, walking at a fast pace down the streets all the way up until he could see your familiar house just around the corner. His breathing was almost heavy in anticipation as he got closer, hopping up the porch steps in a flash before he hesitated when he was face to face with your front door. He hesitated for a long moment, longer than he was willing to admit, before he finally gave it a heavy knock.

You were inside cooking yourself some dinner when you heard a loud knock coming from your front door, your brows furrowing in confusion at who it could be as you quickly cleaned your hands off with a towel. You made your way closer towards the entrance with a little anticipation weighing in your heart, the sound of the firm knock sounding like it was something urgent. But the moment you looked through the peephole and saw who was standing on the other side, you immediately smirked to yourself. You almost couldn't believe he was actually seeking you out.

You opened the door after a moment or two, leaning against the frame with a smile as you looked at him with a smile, “Hi Daryl.” you greeted with a hint of flirtation to your voice.

Your tone surprised him slightly as he stopped for a moment to take you in, his nerves resurfacing the moment you looked him in the eye. But eventually he cleared his throat a little and sent you a small smile, “Hey.”

“Did you need something?” you asked sweetly.

You were playing with him now, both of you knew it too. He didn’t exactly know what he came over here for, almost as if he didn’t really know what he wanted, but all he could feel was that same feeling rushing over him again once more at the sound of your voice. It was almost comforting to him, something he hadn’t felt in a very long time, and his heart began to beat even faster once he realized just how much he needed more of it.

You tilted your head at him expectantly, and it was then and only then he realized he didn’t answer your question. He shook his head a little to rid of his loud thoughts before finally mustering up a response. “Nah…I don’t need anythin. Just…just wanted to see ya.”

He could see your eyes soften as you looked up at him through your long eyelashes, the sight bringing a warmth through his chest, settling at the bottom of his stomach as he looked at you. “Aw…that’s so sweet.” you said as you placed a hand over your chest.

His eyes widened ever so slightly as he heard just the smallest bit of praise from you, if you could even call it that. But he found he liked the sound of you calling him sweet, and he found he loved the idea of you calling him other things. He felt himself slip almost as your words seemed to affect him well, almost a little too well, feeling himself swallow thickly as he tried to figure out what to say to you next.

“Do…do you mind if I come in for a bit?” he mustered up.

Your face dropped a little bit upon hearing that, though mentally you almost felt yourself light up at the sudden opportunity to turn the tables around on him. “Oh…I don’t know…” you trailed off as you eventually let the smirk return to your face, “Wouldn’t that be…wrong?” I asked with a hinting tone.

The man was stunned a little as his only response to you was silence. He stood there almost completely still at the sound of you throwing his own words back up at his face like that, but then again you had a point. He did say those things to you, he made it very obvious and certain. Yet he couldn’t help but silently smirk to himself at the game you seemed to be playing now.

“I don’t think it’s such a good idea…” you continued on.

He hears his own phrase being used against him again and damn did it feel better than it should’ve. He found himself growing a little excited as you continued on, leaning himself against the doorway a little as he looked down at you with almost hungry eyes.

“Well…maybe I like doin things that are wrong.” he stated.

You clicked your tongue in response as you shook your head, “That’s not what you said the other day, I heard you…I’m just following the rules.” you said as you moved to shut the door.

But his hand came up and quickly caught it before you could shut him out all the way, pushing it back open a little with a raised brow. “Now what’s with you and all these goddamn rules now, hm? Who even made em?” he asked as he felt himself falling right into your trap, flirting right back with you like you wanted.

“You did.” you said simply, watching his face drop a little at your response, “You made it very clear, and I understand...” you said simply before moving to shut the door right in his face.

The man was stunned to say the least seeing the door almost touching the tip of his nose, his expression flustered and his heart hammering. He groaned to himself in annoyance as he slowly turned on his heel to leave, his irritation not directed at you per say, but how you made him feel. 

It was far too complicated, but you were playing him like a damn fiddle and he knew it. He supposed that maybe he deserved a little of the shit you were giving him seeing as he turned you down in the first place, but how much were you willing to drag this on for? He was growing attached, too attached, and now he was wrapped around your little finger instead of the other way around. He saw how desperate you looked in the beginning as you confessed everything to him, he saw that look in your eye. But now you had completely flipped the script and made him out to be the one growing desperate. It was frustrating…but in the most captivating way.

A week seemed to pass by in a flash just like that, the two of you going back and forth, leading to you teasing him to no end. He knew there were plenty of times where he could’ve just walked away from the situation, but he was so tempted to keep playing along in the game you entertained. And it was working more than he was willing to admit, his mind not being able to stop thinking about you and slowly feeling himself break. He didn’t want to cave and admit how much he had been thinking of you, how much he wanted you, but it was getting harder and harder every time he saw you. Every bat of your eyelashes, every flash of your small and perfect smile had him absolutely crumbling.

And what he seemed to be dreading the most now was a bonfire being hosted by a neighbor in the community, everyone being invited to the event. 

At first Daryl debated on going at all, knowing that you would probably be there taunting him in the best way you knew how. But he couldn’t help but want to feed into that temptation, just looking for another excuse to see you again. Though in all honesty he didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up. How much longer he could hold out as you played with him until he would completely break right in front of your eyes for you to see. He hated to admit it even to himself, but he was growing more and more desperate for you, which he knew is exactly what you wanted. But he didn’t care at this point. He would let you do whatever you wanted to him if he knew he could finally have you.

You on the other hand however were looking forward to the event. You took your time picking out your outfit, settling on a shorter skirt and a black top that left just enough to the imagination, almost not being able to contain your excitement and mischief when thinking about seeing him again. In all honesty, you didn’t expect him to continue to feed into what was supposed to be just a little teasing, it surprised you beyond repair to see him playing along as much as he was. Though you knew he had grown to like it, he had grown to fall for you more than before. And you loved it.

Once the day was finally over and the stars just began to rise into the sky, the time came for everyone to attend the little get together as the bonfire was beginning to light up Alexandria with its orange glow. People began to arrive in pairs and groups to the get together, greeting one another politely with smiles and hugs, but Daryl found himself planted in the corner of the small party. His eyes kept scanning around for you subconsciously, his nerves only growing as he convinced himself not to fall apart for you, to not fall into his desires.

But then he caught sight of you finally arriving, seeing the things you were wearing, and he immediately seemed to lose his train of thought right then and there. He was now reminded why he so desperately wanted to give in, why he wanted to give away every part of himself to you as he watched you smile and greet a few people passing by. You knew how to get to him, how to make him nervous, knowing exactly which strings to pull to get him all hot and bothered. It’s all what made you so absolutely alluring.

He watched you from a distance for a while with his arms crossed over his chest, not being able to approach you as you always seemed to be speaking with someone. His patience was growing thin and his destress was building as all he wanted was to talk to you, to see you up close. The way you were dressed, the way you wore your hair up only to have a few stray pieces aligning your face, it was beginning to drive him crazy.

But then an opportunity seemed to open up right before his very eyes as he saw you walk away off by yourself, just close enough towards the fire to feel the warmth, yet far enough from everyone else so he could finally approach you. He swallowed thickly at the thought of the things he was easily getting himself into, but he couldn’t help it as it seemed like his feet had minds of their own, practically floating right over to you. His steps were quiet as he approached you from behind, not wanting to scare you, but wanting to catch you off guard for once.

When he was finally close enough just to hover over you, it was only then that he spoke, “Hey.” he said quietly.

But you hardly even flinched, as if you knew of his presence approaching the whole time as you turned to look at him with a smile, “Hi Daryl.”

God the way you said his name drove him almost to a point of insanity, wanting you to say it over and over again as you voice was sweet and warm like honey. It’s almost impossible to resist you in this moment in time, taking in your appearance up close and getting a whiff of your intoxicating perfume as a gust of wind blows by was enough to send him over the edge. Leading to a point of no return. 

But still, he somehow managed to keep his composure, “You look nice.” he commented sweetly, a small smile crossing his lips.

Your eyes practically lit up at the compliment he gave you, subconsciously smoothing down your skirt as you looked up at him, “You think so?” you subtly flirted.

His mouth parted to respond, but he couldn’t seem to find the right words. But he does think so, in fact he’s thinking almost a little too much about how amazing you look in front of the glowing fire.

A smirk was brought to your face as he didn’t respond to your question, diverting his attention to your body once more as your voice quieted down to a whisper, “You don’t think my skirt’s too…short…right?”

His eyes seemed to trail back down just as you wanted them too, eyeing your legs for a dangerously long time at the brief question that fell from your lips. His mouth was agape as he found he couldn’t look away, the feeling bubbling inside him almost being too overbearing as he desperately tried to swallow and lubricate his dry throat.

Though he eventually found himself shaking his head as his gaze trailed back up to your eyes, “Nah…it’s fine.” he breathed.

“You sure?” you asked again playfully, “I can always go home and change if you think it’s too much-”

“N-No,” he interrupted quickly, “I kinda like it actually.” he blurted before his mind even had a chance to stop him. Though he feels the embarrassment wash over him the moment the words left his mouth, coming to the realization of what he had just said.

But much to his relief, he saw you smile a bit wider, “I’m glad you like it…” you admitted as you suddenly leaned in further to him to whisper in his ear, “...I wore it just for you.”

Daryl’s body went rigid and his mind seemed to go completely blank, his heart beating twice as fast as it was before. Just for him? You wore that pretty little thing just for him? His mouth became very dry once again, his knees feeling weaker, especially when you laughed lightly to yourself at his speechless state, pulling back a little to stand next to him normally before anyone could notice. Oh god, it hit him, what if anyone noticed. 

His eyes then did a quick scan around the sea of people, but none of them seemed to catch onto the interactions he was having with such a young girl. That sent a wave of relief through him, bringing his attention back towards you as you hadn’t stopped staring at him the entire time it seemed like.

“So…are you enjoying yourself?” you ask him with a seductive tone to your voice.

The older man sucked in a breath at your tone, seeing that twinkle in your eye that was nearly impossible to resist, “Yeah…I am.” he finally responded.

You smile to yourself as you heard his confirmation, “Good.” you nodded.

He then quietly groaned to himself, almost as if he couldn’t take it anymore, turning to face you better as he collected himself and looked you in the eye, “Why ya always gotta tease me like that?”

You physically felt the wicked grin cross over your face, “Because it’s fun.” you said simply, slowly venturing out to tease him further as you reached out to trail your finger up and down his clothed, toned arm. “But if you don’t like it…I can stop.”

His breathing then became shaky as he nearly quivered under the small ounce of your touch, only imagining what it would be like if you touched him even more. But then it hit him that you threatened to stop playing with him as much as you were, breaking him out of his thoughts as he could still feel your touch burning through the fabric of his shirt.

“...Never said I didn’t like it…”

Your gaze looked back up at his face as your movements stopped completely, your faces only inches apart now it seemed like in such a public setting. “Are you sure…? You can be honest if you don’t want this anymore.” you teased again.

He almost caught himself groaning again as you stopped touching him, not even imagining any scenario where he could ever say no to you. In fact, all of this was just slowly feeding more into the desire and lust that continued to build.

“No, no…I want this.” he assured quickly, in fear that you would completely pull away if he didn’t answer you fast enough.

Seeing him near his breaking point, so close to dangling over the edge, you wondered if you could get him to admit it out loud. You fully took your hand away then, leaning in further to whisper. “Tell me what you want.”

Daryl’s mind goes on some kind of frenzy as he could only think of you. Your voice, your touch, everything. He only wanted you.

“I want you…” he finally broke.

Though upon hearing his answer, he saw your eyes forming into almost sympathy as you stared at him, similar in the way he looked at you when you confessed your feelings for him. “Oh…but you know that’s not allowed.” he hears you say with a sigh.

All logical reason leaves the man’s mind in an instant it seems like as he watched you deny him, feeling as if you were going to pull away fully and reject him for good. He felt defeated as all he wanted now was for you to give it up, stop toying with him and finally give in to let him have you. He learned his lesson, that much was certain, now all he needed to do was convince you somehow.

“Please…”

The moment you heard his plea, you nearly shivered in anticipation seeing how much he was falling apart now, not being able to handle it anymore. But still, you didn’t cave right away. “You said I was too young.” you gently reminded him.

“I don’t care.” he whispers without a second thought, his voice barely being able to come out at all. He found he didn’t care anymore, all he could think about was you. How much he wanted you, needed you. Now.

Your eyes widen in the smallest bit of surprise at his sudden desperateness, “But you do care. You told me so yourself.” 

He shakes his head almost frantically, “No, no, that was then. This is now. Nobody even needs to know…we can keep it between us…”

Shock is evident on your features at his suggestion, something about it making you want to finally give it up and give into his requests. That is what you were trying to do since the beginning, making him realize how much he truly wanted you, and now you had it. All you had to do was say the word.

He sees the look of consideration on your face, a feeling of hope filling his chest as he leans closer to you, “Please…” he whispered once more.

You swallowed a bit thickly as your prepared to open your mouth to respond to him, but another voice quickly cut into the silence between you two, causing Daryl to practically jump away from you suddenly as if he was just burned.

“Y/N!” Carol’s voice called out as she approached, completely oblivious to what was just happening moments ago, “Come on, there’s some new people I want you to meet.” she said eagerly as she took you by the arm, and dragging you away from the man.

Daryl huffed in irritation as he watched you get pulled away, collecting himself quickly as he looked around and licked his lips in annoyance. The older man was now just stuck there alone as you were taken elsewhere, left to ponder over the things that was said between you two. It’s almost a painful fate he was placed in, but yet it’s the one he deserved for playing along with you in the first place.

~ Thanks for reading!

Part 2!

[mysterious-shelf]

all this new content and speculation and discourse has distracted me from equally important matters, namely the (platonic) eddietommy of it all … because the potential there is for their relationship this season??? so many possibilities and i’d eat up every one of them

eddietommy bonding over all things buck

eddietommy butting heads over who gets to spend time with buck

alternatively, eddietommy being sympathetic towards each other regarding buck time — tommy insists eddie spends more time with buck while eddie swears he’s fine (he’s not)

eddietommy, in the midst of the buck time drama, confessing that they miss hanging out with each other just as much; tommy was eddie’s friend first, after all!

this post because eddietommy should be able to exist independent of buck

tommy desperately trying to keep eddie from going down the same path he did 20 years ago and turning into a gerrard minion (this scenario has had me frothing at the mouth since the s7 finale. like you don’t understand i need tommy to beg)

veering into fic territory with this one, but tommy reassuring eddie that he is a good dad. bonus if he uses his own shitty dad as a contrast. bonus bonus if he’s angsty about it “do you even understand how lucky christopher is to have a dad who loves him like you do?”

(now this is very much fic territory but i want the last two points to be combined and turned into a dramatic scene where they’re both yelling at each other but they’re not really fighting and they both just break down in front of each other because big men being sad is like crack to me)

eddietommy performing michaelbobby-level shenanigans

eddietommy bonding over their army experiences

this fucking post about eddie’s potential reaction to tommy’s helicopter crashing

eddie just having someone else who he can bro out with and also be vulnerable with. 7x04 sets thier friendship up as one that’s so unique and intriguing and if it isn’t explored in s8 i will be pressing charges

[seijorhi]

invidia ii

a (very belated) christmas present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy who has, for two years straight, begged me for more shinnosuke content. i hope you like it bby! kuroo tetsurou x female reader, kuroo shinnosuke (oc) x female reader part i w.c 3.1k tw: noncon/dubcon, slight daddy kink, (forced) infidelity, yandere themes, nsfw, smut, age gap, i guess hints of breeding kink, dilf kuroo

“Why did your parents split up?”

Mid-way through pulling on a pair of old, grey sweatpants, mopping at beads of water from his shower still rolling down his bare chest, Shinnosuke throws you a curious look, but shrugs easily enough.

“They weren’t ever really ‘together’ to begin with. They tried the whole co-parenting thing to start with but mom… they never loved each other. Hell, I don’t even think they liked each other most of the time beyond–” he breaks off, his nose wrinkling in distaste. It almost makes you laugh. “Anyway, dad always said she had one foot out the door from the start. Dad was the one who stuck around to raise me.” There’s no animosity in his tone, he says it like it’s the simple truth. You’ve never met the woman, never having shown up to any of the Nekoma games, his graduation, any of it. You’ve seen a picture or two, overheard the odd phone call, but for as long as you’ve known him, the only real parent in Shin’s life has always been his dad.

If there’s anyone he idolises, it’s his father.

 Which is why the words that he says next – casting aside the damp towel in the general direction of the laundry basket (boys) and sauntering on over to join you in bed – take you entirely by surprise. “We’ll go visit her in Golden Week. I want her to meet you.”

And again, the words are just that; words. Shin kisses you, a sweet peck on your lips, and wastes no time in scooping you back into his arms and settling back with a contented sigh. They’re just words, but there’s this look in his eyes when he says it that makes you think he means something more. 

Your stomach flutters.

—

‘You really wanna break his heart like that, kitten?’

—

“Still not feeling any better?” Shin asks, brushing your hair back to feel your forehead. The beginnings of a frown start to take shape, teeth gently burrowing into his bottom lip, but he straightens and sighs, and that hint of discontent smoothes over like it had never existed in the first place. He strokes your hair again and offers a small, sympathetic smile. “No temperature, that’s gotta be a good sign, right?”

You’re a coward.

“It’s not my head, I just…” don’t have any visible, plausible symptoms for the fake illness that’s currently keeping you curled up in Shin’s bed. Away from the creep who’d smiled and fucking winked at you Christmas morning. “I just feel off.”

“Poor baby,” he coos, laughing when your face screws up and you swat at him.

Right now, swaddled in his hoodie, his fingers carding through your hair and that stupid, impish, almost believable grin beaming down at you, you want to forget. To pretend. 

Because there’s a pit in your stomach. A bitter, gnarled, seething mass. This moment right now, in Shin’s bed, it’s like glass, paper thin and already cracked, it can’t possibly last, and yet you’re clinging to it so desperately, head buried in the sand, willing yourself to pretend, from one heartbeat to the next, that what’s happened won’t break the two of you. 

That your stomach doesn’t threaten to upend when you catch sight of those hazel eyes peering down at you – the same shape and shade as his father’s.

You shudder out a breath, and what little levity there was between you two gets sucked out with it. Shin’s expression gutters.

Yeah. 

His fingers don’t leave your hair, though. Playing idly with the strands as though the suffocating tension in the room doesn’t exist at all. “Dad’s taking us out to dinner tonight,” he tells you. Reminds you, because you knew all of this beforehand. Everything but the party. “Do you want me to run by the pharmacy to get you something?”

Another tap at the fractured glass. 

That’s Shinnosuke all over, isn’t it? You might’ve been the manager back in the day, but it was always Shin who kept an eye on his team, on you, to make sure everyone was good. 

“No,” you shake your head. “I’ll–” the words get stuck in your throat. “I’ll see how I feel in an hour or so. ‘m still a little tired.” 

“You want some tea, sweetheart?”

‘Shh, sweetheart, you gotta keep it down.’

A cold sweat breaks out on the nape of your neck. No. No, no, no, no–

“Baby?”

You flinch like he’s slapped you, jerking away from the hand he’s wound in your hair. The startled look he shoots you borders on wounded, but you’re already squirming towards the edge of the bed, stumbling to your feet like a newborn foal. “Bathroom,” you manage to eke out, your voice sounding far too strangled and hoarse to pass as anywhere near the realm of fine. 

Shin doesn’t follow, doesn’t so much as utter a word – all kicked puppy confused – as you throw the door closed behind you and collapse back against it, a sweaty, ashen mess. 

He usually calls you love. Baby. Princess when he’s being a little shit. 

Sweetheart’s a rare one. 

Your heart races, a runaway train pounding in your chest. His eyes, his touch, sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart.

Another shuddering breath in. Out. 

Fuck. 

There’s a knock – not at the ensuite door, the sound’s too muffled for that, and you didn’t hear Shin’s footsteps (though you’re not sure you would, over the pounding in your ribs) meaning that the knocking’s at his door. 

There’s only one other occupant in the house. Though you try your damndest to fight it, there’s no stopping the wave of panic that stabs through you. Shin’s door creaks open, soft voices barely creeping through the gap in the door, and your fingers go rigid, nails clawing at the black and white flooring as though you can ground yourself by breaking through it instead. 

You don’t realise you’re crying.

Not until the droplets splatter on the tiles by your feet.

—

You should’ve left days ago.

After Christmas, when you’d ducked out from under Shin’s arm and lurched for the nearest bathroom, when it’d finally clicked for him that you violently hurling your guts up wasn’t the result of a simple hangover, you’d tried. Short of admitting the truth – and swinging a bat at the bees’ nest – convincing Shin to leave his dad’s place goes about as well as drawing blood from a stone. 

He’s even less thrilled about the prospect of you going back by yourself, leaving him to spend what’s left of the week with his dad like they’d planned.

There’s only so far you can push without breaking something. You, probably. You and Shin, almost definitely. 

Even so, you might’ve had more of a backbone if he hadn’t been so… Shin. All coaxing and concerned. Logical to a damn fault. 

‘You don’t wanna be stuck in a car driving for hours when you’re feeling shitty, love, and besides, dad’s place is bigger than ours. Comfier. You’ll probably be on the mend by tomorrow anyway, so there’s no point in us heading back.’

If you weren’t trying to salvage what’s left, or maybe clinging to the idea that you can – and want to – then it would’ve been easier just to go.

You wouldn’t still be here, stuck in the house of the man who’d– who’d raped you.

You wouldn’t be avoiding your boyfriend’s eye.

You would’ve screamed the whole house down before Kuroo Tetsurou ever bent you over the kitchen counter.

But the gentle extrication in the early hours of the morning, Shinnosuke’s lips brushing against your cheek, the sleepy rasp of his voice as he mumbles a quiet, “Love you,” before slipping away – you barely stir, cozy and safe and content.

He loves you. Shin loves you. 

A while later – minutes, maybe, or hours, it’s hard to tell when you’re still in the grips of sleep – the mattress dips under Shin’s weight, and those strong, sculpted arms seek your warmth again, you only sigh and lean back against him. 

“I love you,” you whisper, not yet willing to open your eyes and face another day of lying to him. 

The arm slung over your waist curls tighter, his face nuzzling into your neck. The kisses he leaves there aren’t affectionate, exactly, they’re not gentle, when teeth catch, nipping sharply at your skin, only to be soothed by a lave of his tongue.

And the laugh that rumbles at your back – a shade off your boyfriend’s – is anything but nice. 

“Yeah? Fuck, you’re sweet in the morning.”

This time, you don’t hold back. You shriek, kicking out like a wild thing – or you would have, if Kuroo’s hand hadn’t clamped down on your mouth, if his weight hadn’t shifted so that rather than lying curled up behind you, he’s half on top of you, pinning you down to the mattress with a thigh lodged between yours. 

“Uh-uh-uh, we were doing so good, kitten. Don’t you wanna be daddy’s good girl?”

Your only answer is a ragged noise, torn from somewhere deep inside of you. He chuckles again, grinds against you, his cock a thick, unignorable presence pressed at your ass. There’s nothing but the thin cotton of your sleep shorts separating it from you, and from past experience, that barrier won’t do much to deter him for long.

Kuroo rolls you onto your back and slots himself nicely between your legs. Naked, you realise with a fresh stab of fear.

You scream the moment his palm leaves your lips to capture your wrists, scream for Shinnosuke – for anyone – so loudly that it feels like you’ll bleed for it. Let him come running, find you pinned and squirming, terrified beneath the man who raised him.

Let it be the final crack that obliterates everything. 

If Shin sees you like this, utterly petrified, on the verge of being raped again and still thinks it some kind of a betrayal, let him choke on it. You don’t care anymore, you just want someone to stop this. 

(Shin wouldn’t, would he?)

But Kuroo only snickers. Leans over to lick along the edge of your lashes, where hot, glistening tears are already spilling over, trickling down to disappear in your hairline. “Your boy’s not here, but we don’t have long ‘til he gets back. You’ll forgive me if we bypass the foreplay this morning, right, sweetheart?” You shudder, goosebumps prickling where his breath washes over you, and you squeeze your eyes shut and violently – pointlessly – shake your head. “We’ll have to save eating your pretty little cunt for next time.”

All too eager, he hungrily captures your lips again and yanks down your shorts, taking your panties along with them.

Christmas morning, you’d been shoved face down over the kitchen counter while he’d fucked you from behind. You’d give anything for that distance right now. At least then you hadn’t had to endure his suffocating warmth, having him squeeze and grope at your tits over your old, threadbare tee.

You wouldn’t have to writhe away from his mouth while he rucks your bare thighs up either side of his hips, dragging you closer.

Even with your eyes screwed tightly shut, you can’t pretend that this isn’t happening as Kuroo spits and a heartbeat later the thick head of his cock slowly – agonisingly slowly – splits you apart.

You forget how to breathe. 

Eyes popping open and back arching up into his chest, your fists clutch desperately at the sheets of Shin’s bed, trying to squirm away, only the grip he has on you makes sure there’s nowhere for you to escape to. He’s big, long, mostly, and you’re too tight to take him easily, especially without any prep. The spit doesn’t help any, and Kuroo doesn’t care, groaning out in pleasure as inch by inch he pushes himself deeper, until at last he’s seated firmly inside of you. “Good fucking giiiirl,” he purrs, a kiss pressed to the tip of your nose.

A tiny, drawn out whine is all you can manage when your lower half radiates pain. 

“Gonna fuck this perfect pussy nice ‘n full,” he tells you. “Give you everything you need, sweet girl. You can take it. I know you can, you just gotta breathe for me.”

But unlike last time, he doesn’t allow you the luxury of a minute to adjust. His hips draw back and punch forward, jolting another mewling gasp from your lips. And again. And again. The pace isn’t violent so much as intense, like each thrust ignites something inside of him that burns for more.

He clasps your wrists in one hand, pants into your open mouth between frenetic kisses, groans out your name in that shuddering gasp.

“Mine,” he pants, beads of sweat dripping from his chest, his chin, rolling down onto you. “You’re daddy’s girl– fuck!”

Your cunt reacts accordingly, flexing around his cock, easing its passage so that the wet, lurid sounds of him fucking you quickly fill the air. A betrayal that has your cheeks flaming. 

The muscles in your thighs burn, Kuroo all but forcing them back towards the bed, his weight driving into you with fervour. A quick adjustment to the angle of your hip and his cock hits a spot deep inside of you that has you choking on a moan of your own, a burst of bright, sizzling pleasure bleeding through the pain.

Kuroo grins ferally at the sound of it. Drops his weight on an elbow and bucks into you, hitting it again. Your inner walls twitch, squeezing and slick, dragging noises from you that make you wanna burn with shame – that, or cut yourself loose entirely. You can’t muster resistance when he swallows them down, sucking on your tongue, moaning into your mouth. His momentum turns rabid, his hand no longer encircling your wrists, but entangled with them, pressing them down to the mattress. “Almost… there…” he grunts, gasping as he curls over you, abs flexing.

A shudder rolls through him, his hips faltering just as something vital shatters inside of you, toes curling, white hot pleasure exploding from your core, rippling through your whole body like the aftershocks of an earthquake. With your pussy spasming around his cock, your body taut and locked with pleasure, Kuroo hurtles off that cliff right alongside you, a strangled noise somewhere between a moan and a growl escaping him as he pumps your cunt full of his seed, all but collapsing atop of you afterwards.

It takes a minute before he peels himself off of you; pushing himself up, braced on elbow so that he’s not crushing you entirely, Kuroo waits, buried inside your warmth, for you to stop trembling with the after effects of your orgasm, for his cock to soften and both of your breathing to even out. 

Waits for those glazed over eyes to focus back on him and once again fill with tears, stroking a hand through your sweat-dampened hair as he does so.

“You should go take a shower before Shin gets home,” he says after a minute or two, his voice a low purr. “He can’t be far off.”

But aside from rolling off you to allow you up, Kuroo makes no moves to follow you, or so much as get up off the bed. Naked, his cock soft and glistening with your juices, one knee propped up, he watches you stumble like a newborn foal into the bathroom (only half managing to close the door behind you) with damn near predatory intent, a smirk teasing at his lips.

It’s where Shin finds you a short while later, curled up on the floor of the shower, shaking through silent sobs. 

—

Shin doesn’t let go of your hand the entire trip home.

Uncharacteristically sober, he says little aside from the occasional murmur to check in with you – always unanswered – and keeps you tucked close, as though a fraction of distance between you might pry you from his side entirely. 

The hours pass in a haze of… nothing. Your tears dry. Numbness takes over. You move like a robot, Shin guiding you every step of the way until you cross the threshold of your apartment.

He never asks what happened. You suppose the smell of sex in his bedroom and the bruises and love bites scattered over your body tell the tale well enough. Shinnosuke’s never been stupid. He’s not dense. 

He’s not heartless, either.

In the sanctity of your tiny, shitty bathroom, you shower again. A proper shower this time, with the water turned up full blast, scrubbing viciously at your skin– or at least, you do until he steps in and takes over. You’ve never thought of your boyfriend as particularly gentle, but he pries the loofah from your hand with a delicacy you didn’t know him capable of and takes care of you, cleaning you up with a tenderness that borders on reverence.

You pretend not to notice how his eyes (so like his, sharp and hazel) narrow into a scowl every time he spots another bruise, another mark left by his father. Once or twice his fingers begin to ghost over them, burgundy fingerprints on your thigh, a love bite sucked into the delicate skin above your collarbone, only to catch himself, swallowing tightly and resuming his task like he’d never faltered in the first place. 

When you’re done, he dries you both off and helps you into fresh clothes – a pair of comfy sweatpants and an old hoodie of his and guides you back to the living room, setting you down into his lap on the couch.

“I–” his voice is hoarse. Quiet, especially in the stillness of the apartment, and when you glance his way, he awkwardly clears his throat and takes a deep breath. “I went to the pharmacy. I thought– I thought…” he trails off again, dropping his gaze. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Your heart twists, and it’s your turn to comfort him. Or maybe you’re comforting each other, shifting slightly in his lap so that you can wrap your arms around him and draw him in close, burying your face in the crook of his neck and breathing in the fresh, clean scent of him. “No. I– it wasn’t…” but the words don’t come. You flounder. 

What are you supposed to say? It wasn’t his fault? Wasn’t yours?

You should’ve said something earlier? Should’ve fought back harder – against both of them, should’ve grown a spine?

A beat passes in the tense, thick silence, and when it becomes clear that you’ve got nothing for him, he makes an odd sort of huff that sounds almost irritated. You frown a little, but you don’t fight it when his arms pull tighter around you, when his cheek comes to a rest against your hair and his hands seek yours, curling around your wrists and stroking at the skin there. 

“We’ll get through this,” he vows. “I love you, this doesn’t change anything. It won’t change anything.” His lips meet the crown of your head in a soft kiss. “You’re mine. You’ll always be mine.”

[eomayas]

his friends and his dad hate me • chs

pairing: non-idol!vernon x fuckgirl!reader, fwb

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!! angst

synopsis: you broke his little heart, he’s a cry baby. OR, reader excels in the male dominated field of being a female fuckboy! (based off ‘crybaby’ by megan thee stallion)

warnings: p in v, oral (m receiving), fingering, riding, vernon gets his heart broke, reader is not a good person

a/n: i’ve had this in my drafts for awhile and needed to finish it 😭 i love when readers are morally gray or just wrong & bad! pls remember this is just fiction ok thx!

despite the protests from his friends and the little (though extremely loud) voice in the back of his head telling him this is a horrible idea, vernon grabs his car keys and tries to slip out of his apartment. “dude, we didn’t even get to finish the game! get back here!” wonwoo shouts, frustration clear in his voice. it’s bible in their friend group to finish any smash tournament that’s started, and he’s breaking the one and only most important rule.

“later!” vernon says, hand on the door knob. he’s sort of stalling, sort of wants to be told that he has to stay behind. the thing is, he’s pathetic, especially when it comes to you. he’d cross all seven seas to get to you, if you asked.

“she doesn’t even like you!” soonyoung shouts. vernon sighs and rolls his eyes, walking down to the hallway and stopping at the entrance of the living room. five of his friends look at him with mild disappointment and he puts his hands up in surrender.

“first of all, she invited me over so you’re wrong—and secondly, you’d all do the same if you had prospects but you don’t,” vernon says, letting out a breath. it felt good for him to fight back like that, though soonyoungs comment does leave him feeling sort of doubtful. very doubtful, actually, because he knows there’s some truth in his statement whether he wants to acknowledge it or not.

minghao and joshua share a look and vernon sighs. “fuck you guys,” he says.

“yeah, whatever. but don’t come back here crying,” soonyoung says, a shit eating grin on his face. vernon flips him off, face flushing in embarrassment at the memory of him getting so drunk that he cried in mingyus arms at the club over you. they’ve never been able to let it go, bringing it up every time your name is mentioned. it’s mortifying, but a slight wake up call. except he’s not thinking with his head right now.

they all snicker, but minghao manages to give him a sympathetic shrug. it doesn’t do much to alleviate the doubt in his head, but the support is nice. simply put, his friends are not fans of you, and he doesn’t necessarily blame them. your relationship started out rocky and unserious—he was a late night booty call for you and a fill-in boyfriend without the title. he did boyfriend things with you—for you, thought you two were together until you dropped the bomb that you didn’t like him or want him like that. he was crushed, but he played it cool and told you that he wasn’t looking for a relationship anyway. that only made things worse, seeing that you only called him when you wanted some attention, and constantly made him feel like you wanted him.

the crying in the club bit was the straw that broke the camels back for his friends. they had a mock-intervention for him, urging him to delete your number and to find somebody else, but as if you were summoned at the mention of vernon moving on, you’d called him a few days later and got him back where you wanted him. he hasn’t been able to escape you since, caught in some spell or trap you put him under.

“whatever,” vernon mutters, pulling off his cap to run his fingers through his hair. “i’m leaving now.” he declares, urging himself to actually make the move to leave.

he’s halfway to the door when minghao calls out to him by saying, “my therapist would call this self-destructive behavior!”

vernon doesn’t have time to deeply evaluate his behavior as ‘self-destructive’, because he spends the twenty minute drive to your place psyching himself up. that alone should be indicative of the issue with seeing you, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. instead, he bumps his music and drums his fingers against the steering wheel.

it’s not lost on him that he was able to make it to your place without directions, though he forgot how complicated the apartment parking lot was. by the time he finds a spot that he won’t get towed and/or fined in, he’s much later than when he said he’d be at your place.

vernon sends you a quick ‘here’ text before making his way towards the door to your apartment building. he presses the buzzer for your unit, and his pulse skyrockets. in the few seconds that it takes for you to answer, he spirals thinking of every negative possibility of your encounter. what if you really do hate him, like soonyoung said? and, if not, what if he sucks in bed? what if he says something stupid? what if you find out he’s a complete and utter loser?

“vernon?” your voice crackles through the intercom and shoots straight to fast beating heart, halting his mental spiral of doom, and putting him back in the moment. he’s nervous in a different way now. he’s so unsure of himself around you sometimes—which is definitely a sign that he should cut ties with you.

“y-yeah,” he clears his throat quickly, trying to cover up his shaky voice. “it’s me.” his finger nearly throbs in pain from how much pressure he’s putting on the buzzer.

with a loud pop, the door unlocks and vernon enters. he hikes the two stories to your apartment, and by the time he’s at your door he’s mildly winded from how fast he got up there. vernon stalls a few feet from your door to regain his breath (and confidence). he chews on his bottom lip for a second and glances down the hallway and considers making a run for it.

there isn’t much thought put into that, though, because his feet take him in the other direction towards your front door, and he’s raising his fist to send three soft knocks your way. vernon shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and sighs, dropping his shoulders and rolling them back.

you pull the door open and his eyes snap down to you, and he swears his hearing goes out for a split second, because his face feels like it’s on fire and his muscles feel heavy. and then you smile at him, and he thinks he may melt into a puddle in front of your door. “vernon!” you squeal, laughing yourself onto him, legs wrapping around his waist and arms encircling around his neck. “you took forever.” you mumble, capturing his lips in a kiss that he’s been dreaming of for weeks.

vernon silently thanks the universe that he didn’t collapse when you attached yourself to him, and that he had enough sense to hold onto the bottoms of your thighs for support. “traffic,” he lies, walking the two of you into your apartment and kicking the door closed behind him.

he stops walking and the two of you make out for a few minutes. his nerves disappeared the moment you latched onto him. granted, hes a bit nervous, but he doesn’t feel like he’s going to pass out, or like he wants to make a run for it. “you look good, baby,” you purr once you pull back from his lips to really look at him. you run your hands through his short, brown hair and smile at him, and he decides right then and there that all of the pain and suffering you’ve put him through might be worth it, if you keep smiling at him like that.

untangling you legs from his waist, vernon helps set you down and lets his hands drag up your bare legs. your skin is soft like he remembers, and he wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life rubbing and touching it. but your hands make use of pulling down his jacket zipper and subsequently helping him out of his coat, so he unfortunately has to pull his hands away from your thighs.

“have you been working out?” you question, setting his jacket on the back of one of your bar stools. vernon looks down at his own biceps and shrugs. “i lift sometimes, yeah,” he says. you walk back over to him and shamelessly feel him up. he’s still skinny, but there’s muscle in places you don’t necessarily remember him having.

“hmm,” is all you reply—it does a lot to cover up how badly you want to tear him out of his clothes. you grab his hand and lead him down the hallway to your bedroom.

“how’ve you been?” vernon asks. you giggle at his awkwardness and give him a look over you shoulder as you pull him into your bedroom.

“really great,” you push him lightly towards your bed, and crawl onto his lap, lips finding purchase on his neck. you grind down onto him as you suck a purple mark onto his neck. “what about you?” you ask in between kisses, voice slightly breathless.

“uh, fine,” vernon spits out, mind a bit hazy when you slip off of his lap and onto your knees between his legs. “better.” you smile at him sweetly, but your hands make quick work of unbuttoning his jeans. he helps you pull them down to his ankles, along with his underwear.

a soft whimper leaves you mouth at the sight of his semi-hard dick. you press your thighs together and reach forward to grab ahold of his member and start stroking his shaft. vernon looks down at you with parted lips; he feels like he’s in a dream, watching you on your knees below him. you’ve given him head before, but it was conditional. usually, when you felt guilty for something, or knew you made him upset you would suck him off. he tries to push the thoughts away, and succeeds when you wrap you lips around the tip and attempt to take all of him. “fuuuck,” he groans, gripping onto the edge of the bed.

vernon is embarrassed at how quickly you draw out loud moans from him just by massaging his balls as you work your mouth on him. he hasn’t been with anybody else in awhile—and he’s too embarrassed to ever admit that he’s good with just having you, even if he has to wait for you to call him.

“oh, fuck, y/n,” he whines, thighs tensing. he lets go of the mattress to gather your hair and wraps it around one of his hands. you moan against his crotch when he pulls, watery eyes flicking up to meet his own. spit gathers at the corners of your mouth and vernon knows this is an image he’ll never, ever forget. “shitshitshit!” his hips buck upwards and he expects you to pull your mouth off of him to use your hands to get him to his release, but you stay put.

it drives vernon crazy. he comes fast, and he doesn’t have time to be embarrassed because you swallow, and then keep sucking after the fact. he’s never seen you act like this, and you’re a bit shocked at your own behavior—you hadn’t realized you missed him that much.

“y/n,” he whimpers, chin falling against his chest. you take that as a sign that he’s about to pass out, and reluctantly pull your mouth off of him with a pop. a trail of spit mixed with cum follows his cock to your mouth, and it makes you want to give him another blow job, but he looks too spent.

“vernon,” you start, getting off of your knees. he manages to sit upright before falling backwards onto your bed.

“give me a minute,” he croaks. you smile and take a few seconds of your own to catch your breath before you undress completely and crawl onto the bed next to him. vernon opens his eyes and looks over at you. “i wanted to do that.” he whines, referring to getting you naked, and reaches out for you.

you crawl on top of him and settle on his abdomen. his hands moves to your waist and his eyes stray trained on your breasts. you lean down a bit, practically putting your boobs in his face. vernon leans forward and wraps his lips around one of your nipples. he shifts the two of you so he’s sitting up straight, thus shifting you down onto his crotch.

you can’t help but grind yourself against him as he plays with your breasts. he fondles the own that’s not in his mouth, and keeps his eyes on you. you moan softly above him, light little pants leaving your mouth that only encourage him. “nonie,” you whine, running your hands through his hair and gently tugging on the strands. “touch me. i want you to touch me.”

vernon pulls his mouth off of your breast and slides his hand that was on your waist up your spine. he grabs the back of your neck and pulls your mouth down to his own in a messy, heated kiss. he manages to flip the two of you over, propping himself up on an elbow and slipping his other hand between your legs.

“all for you,” you purr when he drags his fingers up your slit, a look of disbelief on his face at how wet you are. “need you, nonie. your fingers, mouth, all of it.” you whine, spreading your legs open for him. vernon liked how vocal you were about what you wanted from him. he wished you were as vocal about other aspects of your guys’ relationship, but he’ll take what he can get.

vernon dips two fingers inside of you, your arousal acting as a perfect lubricant. vernon kisses your neck and chest as he fucks his fingers in and out of you. his thumb presses on your clit and you moan out his name. “more, vernon,” you breathe, gripping onto his hair tightly. “fuck, i want you to fuck me vernon. can you fuck me?” you ask, clenching around his fingers.

his cock jumps at your tone of voice and request. “i can fuck you,” he rasps. he’d rather make you cum on his fingers first, but you wish is his command. he lifts up from you and pulls his shirt off. you rake your nails along his exposed abdomen, applying light pressure. you smirk up at him and he grabs your hand and kisses your palm. it’s much too intimate, but you can’t deny the butterflies it gives you.

“grab a condom,” you remind him, pointing to your nightstand when he grabs onto the base of his dick. he quickly moves to open the drawer, and he tries to ignore the photobooth strip of photos of you and some guy he’s never met is the first thing he sees. he pushes it out of the way and grabs a stray condom, and slams the drawer shut.

he rips open the package and rolls the condom on before grabbing your leg and throwing it over his shoulder and lining himself up. vernon pushes his hips forward and sinks the tip in. “ah!” you gasp at the delicious stretch. quiet as it’s kept, vernon has a big dick and he knows how to use it. it’s unfortunate that he’s hung and is so shy about it—sometimes you wish he’d call you to fuck, rather than you doing it all the time. “fuck, vernon, you’re so big.” his body flushes with heat and he keeps pushing forward.

you suck him in welcomingly. he fits inside of you like you were made to be stuffed by him. he fucks into with a steady rhythm, and each time he pushes inside a moan is pushed form your lungs. vernon can’t keep his own moans contained, moaning our curses with each thrust. it’s dizzying, how turned on he is by you. he feels like he can’t think about anything other than fucking you and staying like this until eternity. he gets the morbid thought that he’d be okay if he died like this, buried inside of you.

“fuck, right there baby! you’re so good to me, fuck!” you shriek, mouth falling open as you look at there the two of you connect. you get lost in watching him disappear inside of you, by the white ring that’s formed at the base of his dick. the sounds vibrate off of the walls; squelching and skin on skin nearly deafening. “fuck me, vernon!” you cry, hips raising to meet his own.

tears brim in your eyes when he pulls your leg from his shoulder and shoves it up to your chest, spreading you open wider and fucking into you at a different angle. “i m-missed you,” he chokes out, shifting his weight to a single arm so he can grope your chest.

“me too,” you pant, chest arching up into his. you chase his lips with your own, wanting to feel as close to him as possible. your mouths press together, but not in a kiss. you pant and moan harshly against each other, his hips rutting into you at a faster, less rhythmic pace.

“i-im close,” he whimpers, placing an open mouthed kiss on the corner of your lips. you whine out his name as he speeds up his pace, your arms sliding up his back. you dig your nails into his skin, definitely leaving scratches. “fuck, you’re perfect.” he whispers, eyes looking into yours.

you whimper and squeeze around him before your release comes crashing over you. “nonie!” you cry, clutching onto him like a life raft as he fucks you through your orgasm. his strokes lose rhythm completely and moments later he’s coming into the condom, stilling inside of you as he does. you almost wish he wasn’t wearing a condom, so you could feel him.

vernon drops on top of you, his arms too weak to hold himself up. you cling to him, hands running through his hair absentmindedly. you don’t mind the weight of him on you, and you especially don’t mind the fact that he’s still inside of you. you have a soft spot for vernon, even though it may not seem like it. he’s the nicest guy you’ve ever been with—much nicer than the guys you’re typically acquainted with—and he’s sweet to you, even when you don’t deserve it. you know you should probably let him go, free him of your games, but something in you won’t let you. and that same something won’t let you like him—love him—how he deserves.

“vernon,” you murmur, rubbing his back.

“hmm.”

“im hot, and you’re heavy,” you say with a soft giggle. he smiles into the sheets and lifts himself up and pulls himself out of you. both of you whimper pathetically at the loss of contact, and laugh at each other seconds later. he drops down beside you on the bed, rolling onto his back. you roll onto your stomach and rest your chin on his chest before resting on your cheek, and he wraps an arm around your waist.

vernon strokes your hair and keeps his eyes on you. if he was a cartoon, his heart would be beating out of his chest and hearts would be shooting out of his eyes.

“you’re staring,” you mutter, rubbing his side.

“because you’re pretty,” he says, hand sliding from your waist to your ass. you roll your eyes and sit up onto your knees and look down at him. you can’t contain the urge to smile or kiss him, so you do both. “you should go pee.” he mumbles, breaking the kiss.

“right,” you say, quickly getting off the bed. no other guy would remind you to pee after sex, but of course vernon does. every single time, too. you wish you could leave him alone.

vernon sits up and grabs his boxers. he pulls them on and stretches his arms above his head, sighing when he feels a pop in his shoulders. somewhere behind him, a phone buzzes once, then twice, then incessantly. he doesn’t know where his phone is, so he digs around in the bed until he finds the source, pulling out the phone from under a pillow. it’s definitely not his, so he feels sort of strange holding it as the name ‘seungcheol’ flashes across the screen.

“what are you doing with my phone?” you ask with an accusatory tone, eyebrows furrowed as you tie your robe.

“i couldn’t find mine, and it was ringing,” vernon says, holding it out to you. you snatch it out of his hand unnecessarily, ready to tell him to mind his business until you look down at the screen and see three texts and a missed call from a guy you’re seeing. it’s not super serious, but you feel bad for vernon having to see it.

“sorry,” you mutter, quickly typing out a response to seungcheol. you try to shove the guilt down as you set your phone down on your dresser. it’s awkward and tense, and you can feel him watching you as you mess around with things on your dresser.

glancing up, you catch his eyes in the mirror and sigh before turning around to face him. you crawl onto the bed next to him and sit on your knees. he won’t meet your eyes, so you try the only thing to bring him back to you.

you kiss his neck and run your hands across his chest. he doesn’t react so you pull your robe open and grab his hand, placing it on your chest and squeezing. “vernon,” you murmur, crawling into his lap. you kiss up his neck, to his jaw, and when you get to his mouth he pulls back.

it’s not his business at all, but he can’t hold back when he asks, “who was that?”

you bite your bottom lip and encircle your arms around your neck. you press your weight into his crotch and bite back a smile when he covers a groan with a throat clear. “he’s just a friend, nonie,” you lie, kissing his cheek. “you have me. all of me.”

he looks up at you with wide eyes, and you feel his cock twitch under your ass. he’s pathetic, and it’s never been more clear to him because he kisses you and palms your breast, pinching your nipple lightly and shoving off your robe. he knows he’s reaches new lows because he lets you push him flat onto the bed and pull his underwear down. when you sink down onto him—with no condom this time—he knows he’s fucked.

you ride him like your life depends on it, like him forgetting that seungcheol ever called is imperative to keeping this thing going between the two of you, because it is. you bring out all the stops, riding him on your toes and telling him things he definitely wants to hear, like how nobody feels better than him, and he’s the best you’ve ever had.

vernon leaves your apartment with clarity on one thing: he understands why his friends can’t stand you.

[khaylin27]

Fresh Out The Slammer

pairing: oscar piastri x norris reader; lando norris x sister reader; talks about carlos sainz x norris reader (past relationship)

series: the tortured poets department

synopsis: 'fresh out the slammer,' slammer meaning jail. y/n looks back at her old relationship with carlos sainz as if it was like being in prison. she's finally escaped and found love with oscar piastri.

warnings: ptsd; the media being horrible

author's note: I'M IN LOVE WITH THIS!!! hope y'all like it 🥺

Another summer taking cover, rolling thunder He don't understand me Splintered back in winter, silent dinners, bitter He was with her in dreams

You wake up distraught and sweaty in the middle of a hot Australian summer night. It was because of a dream you had about Carlos with the whores you would see him with.

"Are you okay honey?" Oscar mumbles. He notices the state that you were in, it was like you were struck by thunder. "Let me get you water."

Oscar turns on the lamp by his bedside to then go to the kitchen you get you a glass of water. Once Oscar comes back to give you the water, he gives you a minute before asking the question. "What's wrong honey?"

"I ... had a dream about Carlos," you take a deep breath and continue talking. "It felt so real. I felt like I was back with Carlos and seeing him with whores while I was alone splintered back in winter. I remember I would eat my dinners in silence and be bitter that Carlos was with girls while I was alone."

Oscar can tell it was still hard for you to talk about your past relationship with Carlos, you did spend 3 years with him. "I don't think I will fully understand or feel what you went through with your relationship with Carlos. My past relationships have been short term. But I will always be here to listen and comfort you." He hugs you so that you two can cuddle back in bed.

"Thank you for always being there even when you don't understand." You lightly kiss him and fall back to sleep. Slowly you were breaking free from the slammer of the trauma you had with your past relationship and healing with the love of your life.

Years of labor, locks and ceilings In the shade of how he was feeling But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

The 2024 season started back up at the beginning of March at the Bahrain Grand Prix. You were excited to be back in paddock to support your brother and your boyfriend. They had both left early in the morning to start practicing for qualifying.

Once you got into the paddock, you see the Ferrari garage and remember the years of labor, locks, and ceilings you went through with Carlos and Ferrari. It was always in the shade of how Carlos was feeling, Ferrari red.

As you walk past the Ferrari garage to get to McLaren garage, you hear a voice that was familiar to you. "Y/N!" It was Alexandra.

"Oh my god! Hi, Alex." You both hug. One of the things you actually miss from Ferrari was your friendship with Alex.

"How are you? It's been so long!" She exclaimed. "The last time we saw each other, it was a bad time." Last time you saw Alex was at your failed wedding with Carlos.

"I've genuinely been doing good." You smile sympathetic to Alex. "I'm happier than the last time we saw each other. How are you and Charles?"

"We're doing amazing!" She says happily. "We're having a baby boy soon."

Your eyes widen at what Alex had spilled. "You're having a baby!"

"Oh not an actual baby," she giggles. "We're getting our baby dachshund in a few weeks."

"Oh my god! That's so exciting! You need to post pictures of him as soon as you get him." You exclaim to Alex about the puppy her and Charles were getting soon.

Speaking about Charles, he comes up and Alex with none other than Carlos with him. This will be the first time seeing each other physically. "Hi, Y/N. How are you?" Charles asks.

"I'm doing very well. Alex was telling me you guys are getting baby dachshund in a few weeks." You notice that Carlos was staring at you while you were talking to Charles. You just ignore him and pay attention to your conversation with Alex and Charles.

Alex tells Charles about what she said about the baby dachshund. "We're excited about starting our family by adding Leo." Charles smiles while talking about his baby dachshund. "But one day, we'll start our own human family."

'I'm happy for you guys for starting a family." You smile at them. "I've always wanted to start a family of my own. Right Carlos?" You ask him since he was listen to the conversation as well. He was too stunned to speak.

While you were waiting for Carlos to respond, two drivers wearing papaya colored race suits join the conversation. "What are we talking about?" Lando asks.

"We were talking about Charles and Alexandra starting a family by them getting a dog." Carlos says completely ignoring your question. He notices Oscar back hugging you while you're listening to the conversation.

"I'm getting a nephew! I thought Y/N would give me on before you Charles." Lando says jokingly to the group. Everyone except for Carlos laughs at Lando's joke.

"One day we'll give you a nephew or niece mate." Oscar says to the group then looks at you. "Let me put a ring on her finger and get tied to her first before that." You smile at what Oscar says.

Even though you did your time, it was going to be alright for you. You found the one.

Camera flashes, welcome bashes Get the matches, toss the ashes off the ledge As I said in my letters, now that I know better I will never lose my baby again

Tonight was the race of Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. News got out that Carlos would not be racing since he had to get his appendix removed. You and the rest of the McLaren team sent your sympathies to the Sainz family by sending them flowers and letters wishing him to get better.

As you scan your vip paddock pass through the gates, a bunch of cameras flashed at you with reporters asking you questions. "Y/N is it true that you were happy that Carlos wouldn't be able to race tonight? That he was finally getting his karma for the way he treated you."

"That's a ridiculous and disgusting question ma'am." You says to her in disgust as she points the mic to you. "What type of person would wish evil on a person? Even though Mr. Sainz and I aren't in a relationship, I would never wish evil on him. Earlier today, the McLaren team members and I wrote letters and sent flowers wishing Mr. Sainz and his family to have a smooth and speedy recovery. Get your facts straight next time and have a good rest of your night ma'am." You say your final thoughts and leave to go to the McLaren garage.

You see Oscar waiting for you, "You were really strong out there honey. You spoke nothing but the truth." He says and kisses your temple.

"You're not mad at me for speaking about him, baby?" You ask him.

"No because I know who you are and what your intentions are. That's what I love about you." He smiles at you and you both go into the garage so he can get ready for the night race.

If you were in your previous relationship, he would've got mad at you for speaking to the media. But now you know that you'll never lose your baby again.

****

f1news Carlos Sainz’s ex fiancé, Y/N Norris, speaks out to a interviewer about her feelings towards Sainz getting his appendix removed. Norris, silencing the rumors that she's happy her ex fiancé isn't racing at the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, states "Even though Mr. Sainz and I aren't in a relationship, I would never wish evil on him. Earlier today, the McLaren team members and I wrote letters and sent flowers wishing Mr. Sainz and his family to have a smooth and speedy recovery."

Oscar Piastri, Norris' current boyfriend and brother's McLaren teammate, states in an interview after receiving 4th place at the race, "Y/N is the strongest and most compassionate woman I've ever known. It's disgusting that the media asked her if she was happy Carlos was in the hospital. She would never wish evil on him even though she went through the slammer in her relationship with him."

user1 @yourinstagram is so classy. i would’ve wished evil for the man who put me through hell

user2 THE AUDACITY THE INTERVIEWER HAD TO ASK Y/N THAT QUESTION

user3 @oscarpiastri is a keeper @yourinstagram 🥹

user4 @oscarpiastri speaks so highly of @yourinstagram HE’S SO IN LOVE 😭🥺

****

Now, pretty baby, I'm running  To the house where you still wait up, and that porch light gleams To the one who says I'm the girl of his American dreams

After the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix, you and Oscar decided to take a small vacation at Oscar's family home the week before his home race. From there you finally got to meet his parents and his three sisters.

You guys were outside on the porch with the light gleams roasting marshmallows at the camp fire. "Oscar, you need to stop hanging out with Logan because his American traditions are rubbing off on you." One of Oscar's sisters jokingly says in front of the family.

"Well isn't this what American families do? Roast marshmallows in the summer on the pouch. It's a plus that I have the girl of my American dreams." Oscar looks at you smiling.

"You're not even American baby." You laugh at what Oscar said in front of everyone.

And no matter what I've done, it wouldn't matter anyway Ain't no way I'm gonna screw up now that I know what's at stake Here, at the park where we used to sit on children's swings Wearing imaginary rings

But it's gonna be alright, I did my time

Once the rest of Oscar's family went inside the house, Oscar decided to take you to the park near his house. You guys sit down on children's swings talking about the past and future.

"Thank you baby for loving me." You say grateful that you found love again. "Even if I went through a lot."

"Loving you is easy honey. I know you've been through a lot but what matters now is us and our future." He gets off of his swing and drops one knee down in front of you. Your eyes start tearing up. "Y/N these past few months have been nothing but bliss. There's no way I'm screwing up now that I know what's at stake. You have my whole heart."

"Y/N will you marry me?"

You stand up and say happily, "Yes baby. Forever and always."

After years of going through the slammer, you were going to be alright at the end.

Now, pretty baby, I'm running back home to you Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to (Fresh out the slammer, oh)

yourinstagram now, pretty baby, i'm running back home to you @oscarpiastri 💍🩵

oscarpiastri i'll always be by your side no matter what 🩶

liked by author

landonorris THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! MY FAVS ARE GETTING MARRIED!!!

liked by author and oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri you're stuck with me forever @landonorris landonorris i like that yourinstagram excuse me @landonorris he's my FIANCÉ not yours 😒

mclaren congrats @yourinstagram and @oscarpiastri happy for you guys 🥹🧡

liked by author and oscarpiastri

yourinstagram papaya by blood, now papaya through marriage 💍🧡 liked by mclaren

*comments have been limited*

f1news FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER: Oscar Piastri and Y/N Norris arrive at the Australian Grand Prix after announcing engagement on social media. Congratulations @yourinstagram and @oscarpiastri

user1 I BET CARLOS IS CRYING IN HIS ROOM RN

user2 I'm so happy for my parents 🥹

user3 After years of Y/N being unhappy in her relationship with Carlos, she's finally out of the slammer. She's thriving and now engaged with Oscar!!! 😆

user4 thank you carlos for breaking my girl's heart so that she can be happier without you

tagged: @omgsuperstarg @splaterparty0-0 @2pagenumb @c-losur3

[wileys-russo]

Hi! Idk if you’re taking requests, but maybe a sequel to ‘headache’ with Alessia, where this time reader is the one with the headache?

part one headache 2.0 II a.russo

alarm bells had sung out in alessia's head from the very first moment she'd woken up this morning, having fallen asleep with you tucked up beside her she was surprised to find the bed empty.

sitting up and rubbing her face tiredly she'd blinked the sleep from her eyes and checked the other bed, maybe you'd wanted some space.

but no, that one was also empty which further peaked her suspicion.

"babe? are you here?" she called out, frown deepening when she didn't receive a response at first. then after a few beats of silence pass she heard what sounded like the faintest of hums from the bathroom.

quickly kicking off the duvet she tied her hair up and out of her face, padding toward the open bathroom door, heart falling into her stomach at the sight of you laid down on the floor with a towel over your face.

"baby?" she was knelt beside you in an instant, gently peeling off the wet towel as you blinked a few times, wincing at the harsh white light of the bathroom and groaning quietly. "what's happened? are you hurt? sick? did you pass out? throw up?" alessia helped you to sit up, checking all over you as you softly pushed her away.

"i'm fine less." you brushed off her concerns with a sigh that didn't pass as okay. "well i just found you asleep on the bathroom floor, so something is up pretty girl. talk to me!" alessia worried, still fussing over you as you gently pushed away her hands, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"i just have a bit of a headache and i thought the cold tiles and a wet towel might help." you admitted, eyes closed as alessia reached up to flick off the bathroom light. "oh my love." the blonde's face softened, quietly murmuring that the floor was hardly clean and helping you up to your feet and back to bed.

"how bad is it one to ten? don't lie please." she all but whispered, squatted down as you sat on the edge of the bed, still pinching the bridge of your nose hoping it might relieve some pressure. "a six? seven maybe? it was worse before but it keeps going up and down, i woke up around four i think." you mumbled quietly.

"hey why didn't you wake me?" alessia frowned, thumb gently carressing your cheek. "didn't wanna bother you." you grumbled quietly, the obvious strain in your voice causing her heart to break a little further.

"my beautiful girl you are never a bother, we've spoken about this before." alessia assured you with another frown, kissing the crown of your head as you nodded and mumbled a near inaudible apology.

"i'm gonna go talk to sarina babe you cannot train today." alessia decided for you seeing the obvious wince of pain flash across your face once again.

"i'll be fine less! please. we're only in the gym today and i can handle that, i just need some water and some food and a tablet." you argued, alessia biting her tongue knowing just how stubborn you could be, especially when it came to national camps.

"fine. but i'm still telling her you've got a headache so she keeps an eye on it!" your girlfriend warned as you nodded, also not having the energy to go back and forth. "i can go down and bring you up some food baby? give you an extra hour or two of rest." her tone softened again as she looked at you sympathetically.

"no no it's okay. can you get me a bottle of water though please?" you requested softly, a cold bottle from the fridge in your hand within seconds, a sigh of relief leaving your mouth as you pressed it against your closed eyes.

whilst you did alessia raced around the room, drawing the curtains and trying to make the room as dark as possible, swearing quietly as she stubbed her toe on the end of the bed, biting down on her bottom lip to stop her from yelling out she took a few deep breaths.

"come here and lay down baby, we still have some time before breakfast." alessia moved to sit up against the headrest of the bed, tapping the space between her legs as you managed to shuffle over. laying down your head rested in her lap and her fingers carded through your hair.

"is this okay?" she asked softly with a frown, bending down to mumble the words against your forehead, leaving a lingering kiss on the warm skin as you nodded wordlessly, melting into her tender touch.

"i love you lessi." you whispered out as the blonde swooned, ducking down again to this time press a sweet kiss to your lips, whispering those same three words right back.

~

"maybe this wasn't the best idea." alessia mumbled, herself wincing at the sudden change of volume as the two of you entered the dining hall she couldn't imagine how it would feel for you. "it's fine." you dismissed with a small sigh, tucking yourself more into her side.

"what do you feel like you can stomach babe?" the blonde asked quietly, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head, her arm draped protectively over your shoulder as you cuddled into her side.

"whatever you're having, maybe some eggs though please." you whispered, alessia nodding and ordering the two of you eggs the way she knew you liked, grabbing some toast and fruit for the pair of you as well.

"good morning lovebirds!" alessia winced as mary appeared beside her, throwing her own arm over your shoulder as the striker was quick to shove her off. "oi! feeling a bit possessive are we less?" the goalkeeper teased, earning herself a withering glare.

"she's got a headache mary and you're as loud as a foghorn. shut up or go away!" alessia warned sternly, smiling in thanks to the chef as she grabbed your shared tray.

"jesus alright! no need to bite my head off." mary rolled her eyes, staying behind to grab her own food as alessia guided the two of you to an empty table on the opposite side of the room, as far away from everyone as the two of you could get.

"i can feed myself lessi my head hurts not my hands." you cracked a smile as the blonde attempted to offer you a forkful of eggs, picking up your own cutlery.

"just trying to take care of you is all baby." alessia kissed your cheek sweetly, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence as you ate, your body still tucked securely into her side.

but of course that peace didn't last.

"oi ya left me on read this morning kid, not appreciated!" alessia's eyes nearly bugged out of her head as lucy teasingly smacked the back of your head, taking a seat with her breakfast and missing the pain which flickered across your face.

"lucy!" alessia seethed, fussing over you as you mumbled you were fine, gently prying away her hands.

"what? she's not made of fine china less she hits me about all the time." the older girl rolled her eyes unknowingly. "she's got a fucking headache and you just smacked her right where it hurts!" alessia growled protectively, lucy's face paling as she paused mid mouthful.

"shit! sorry kid." the northerner winced apologetically as you waved her off wordlessly, the pain starting to set in behind your eyes now from the harsh light of the hall, training your gaze down to the table instead.

"good moorning england!" alessia winced now as ella, grace and georgia joined the three of you, ella screaming at the top of her lungs as she dropped herself down across from you, grace and georgia chattering away.

"what no good mornin back? where's ya manners gone then!" grace teased as she greeted you and you remained silent, pulling you into a headlock as alessia was on her feet within seconds, yanking the younger girl off who paled at the sight of the scowl on her face.

"i was jokin round with her less honest!" the blonde apologised with her hands in the air, wide eyed and terrified of the striker who suddenly sent a mean glare to the entire table, stood protectively behind you.

"whats in your shorts this morning then less? why do you look like somebody pissed in your cereal." ella sent her a toothy grin, lucy stamping on her foot and shaking her head as the mancunian frowned in confusion. "what?"

"she's got a headache would all of you please shut up and keep your hands off of her and to yourself!" alessia warned firmly, dropping back into her seat and tugging you tighter into her side, arm again wrapped securely around your shoulders.

"a headache? aw poor baby!" ella teased, lucy sighing with a wince as even georgia shook her head to signal ella to lay off.

"tooney would you like to get through today being able to talk? because i'll personally shove my hand in your mouth and tie your tongue in a knot if it means you shut up!" the blonde threatened seriously, rendering her best friend speechless.

"lessi it's fine love, eat your breakfast please." you murmured knocking your knee against her as she fixed the girls with one final glare, kissing your cheek and going back to eating, an awkward silence settling around the table.

"so less would you prefer we call you nurse russo or doctor russo?" "right thats it come here tooney!"

[neousfics]

Dead Boy Detective Fic Recs (Hurt/Comfort Edition)

All of the following fics are completed :) The lamps are going out by MagicAio1 Words: 9,755 Rating: T Summary: Evil spirits, vengeful spirits. At the time, he didn't yet have the words to explain what had happened to him –even though, without a frame of reference, he could still tell something was wrong– They formed when a ghost felt an awful injustice had befallen them, and few ghosts could claim to have been as wronged by everything as Edwin Payne.

He just hoped the boy from the attic wouldn't put two and two together.

Review: Vengeful Spirit!Edwin is an incredible idea that is beautifully executed in this fic. Edwin being convinced he's evil or tainted in some way because of the way he has been wronged makes for some fantastic angst, and Charles and Crystal loving him anyway makes for some equally fantastic comfort.

Still a Better Love Story by Vamillepudding Words: 18,000 Rating: T Summary: “That about did it,” Edwin says, patting himself down and straightening his bowtie. “Now, if you’re ready, I suggest we find a mirror and-“

“Did you just cough up a flower?” Charles interrupts. Flower, perhaps, is a slight exaggeration. It’s more like a petal, red and incredibly out of place here on the shore.

Edwin clears his throat, but this time no petals follow. “Certainly it’s nothing to worry about.”

Or: Edwin is suffering from a weird curse, but for some reason, he's refusing Charles' help. Charles is trying his best to fix it anyway, but Edwin is being oddly secretive about the whole thing.

Review: I'm a sucker for a good hanahaki AU, and Payneland is made for them. This fic really leans into Edwin not wanting Charles to suffer or feel pressured as a form of angst which works very well.

for my soul he made an offer (and to dust again i fell) by aletterinthenameofsanity Words: 37,687 Rating: M (CW: rape, blackmail, violence) Summary: Monty gets up on the interview stage and it doesn’t matter what the other tributes have to say, because Monty tells Caesar Flickerman that the boy he fell in love with is the very Mentor trying to save him from the Arena.

It’s a dangerous move, but it just might save Monty’s life in the Arena and his body post-Arena. It might just keep him out of the same deal that Esther made for Edwin.

A familiar hand touches Edwin’s wrist backstage. Charles’ hands gently pry Edwin’s fingernails away from the bloody crescents they are carving into his palms.

“It was the only way I could protect him,” Edwin says, trying to plead with Charles to understand, because Edwin has to do anything he can to protect just one of his tributes.

Charles gives him a small, sympathetic smile. “You could’ve told me.”

But Edwin twists his wrist slightly so that Charles isn’t touching him, because he knows where this is going even if Charles does not. He knows whose life lays on the line if this plan fails, and it’s not just Monty’s.

(Years ago, the President made Edwin kneel and told him that Charles’ life was forfeit if Edwin ever disobeyed. And he won't risk that, even if it means breaking both of their hearts.)

Review: One of my absolute favorite DBD fics to date. Hunger Games AUs are notoriously difficult to pull off, but this one knocks the ball out of the park. It focuses on Edwin's experience as District 10 victor and all the brutality that comes with being in the Capitol. This fic had me actually gasping and jumping about.

By Lantern's Light by babyseraphim Words: 13,620 Rating: T Summary: Edwin is terrified. He feels as though he is a wounded deer caught in a bear trap, simply waiting for the hunter to discover his misfortune. The room is dark enough that he cannot make out a single landmark, the deprivation of all sounds playing tricks on his panicked mind. He swears that he hears distant giggles, the sound of grotesque dolls laughing at his renewed torment, but no creature ever makes an appearance. A hysterical laugh threatens to spill past his own lips, accompanied by a sudden rush of tears. He closes his eyes and wills them away, steeling himself for whatever is to come.

The question is not whether Charles will come; the question is when. Until that question is answered, all Edwin can do is endure. --- A heartbreaking story of love and near loss told from three separate perspectives.

Review: Explores Edwin experiencing the effects of trauma and PTSD from his time in hell as well as his unwavering faith in Charles which makes for a beautifully bittersweet experience. Babyseraphim does a great job exploring the hurt/comfort that occurs on all sides of this story.

the taste in your mouth by greenaerie Words: 14,004 Rating: M (CW: non/con elements) Summary: An unexpected attack from Esther shocks the Dead Boy Detective Agency, taking Charles out of commission.

Edwin solves this the only way he can. A good detective does what they must, after all.

Review: This is one of the only fics I've found that explores the idea of Edwin taking the Cat Kings initial offer from a place of risk-assessment/desperation to save his friends, and I love it! I do wish it had a bit more angst w/ Edwin's experience / Charles reaction to it. However, the author does a great job w/ Edwin's characterization.

dulcet tones of broken bones by gremlininthemachine Words: 20,173 Rating: M (CW: suicidal ideation, suicide attempt) Summary: Object: cardboard shoe box, pilfered from Crystal's overflowing wardrobe; location: the London office, on top of their desk; box contents: several labeled cassette tapes enclosed in plastic cases, along with a handwritten note in perfect script; note contents: "Dead Boy Detective Agency - Recorded explanation for my unannounced absence is enclosed. Sincerely yours, Edwin Payne" | Or, the fic where Edwin no longer wants to exist and seeks to make that reality. Inspired by Thirteen Reasons Why, knowledge of series canon not required.

Review: More hurt than comfort, but in the best way possible. This rips your heart out, but it still leaves with a distinctly hopeful note which I highly appreciate.

the phantoms here will never have their fill by ahyperactivehero Words: 45,874 Rating: T Summary: Poltergeists are created when a ghost experiences extreme emotional distress. Poltergeists are notoriously hard to reign in, and they almost never gently move on. Neither Edwin nor Charles ever imagined it would happen to them.

Basically, five times where the Dead Boy Detective Agency dealt with the threat of a poltergeist.

XXX “Once you choose to go down the poltergeist route there is no coming back,” Edwin said. “And I will have no choice but to follow you.”

“You can’t do that mate,” Charles said. His voice had cleared up some, his form less wavy.

“Then do not go where I cannot follow,” Edwin said.

Review: Obsessed with how the ghost lore works in this fic. The author plays into the idea of how a ghosts emotions can affect there form and tackles the question of "How far is too far?" brilliantly. Great characterization!

The Case of the Lovesick Student by amurusk Words: 5,151 Rating: Unrated (CW: child abuse, implied SA) Summary: It's not unusual for Charles to bear the brunt of an attack during cases. Charles is the brawn, after all, and he’s thrived in that role in life and death. He’s a soldier, taking a beating and giving one back. It just feels right, keeping his loved ones safe from harm and trusting them to fix whatever mess they’re in. Not that he faces danger alone, they just think of the big picture while Charles handles the immediate threat. Edwin, Crystal, and Niko have all saved him back multiple times over.

But no one has ever physically stepped between him and pain, taken a hit for him.

Review: Charles finally getting to be the one who's defended is a fic premise that we need more of. I love getting a glimpse into Charles experience of wanting to be protected/vulnerable.

it feels real to me now, it felt real to me then by ethan_elliott Words: 3,658 Rating: T Summary: Ghosts could not feel pain. Or much of anything, really. Except in Hell. A place designed to cause eternal agony, and so levelled the playing field by making humans and supernatural entities equal in their perception. Edwin had been corporeal there, subject to hurt and cold, the hammer of a heart in his chest and the struggle of lungs for breath. It was the one place he felt everything.

Charles had rescued him from Hell the second time. So then why, as Edwin lay in Esther’s torture device helplessly watching Niko disappear from sight, could he feel everything?

Charles had rescued him from Hell the second time. Right?

—

Or, after Niko’s death, Charles has to rescue Edwin from Hell once more, but this time it’s all in Edwin’s mind.

Review: A great one-shot exploring a world where Edwin isn't sure if he really made it out of hell. I honestly wish this was longer because it was excellently written and the premise is awful /pos.

a kingdom never bound by piilu Words: 1,974 Rating: G Summary: “Fuck, Edwin,” Charles breathes. “You could’ve come got me, you know?” Edwin doesn’t know what to say to that. He would be fine, soon. Not really worth bothering anybody. He just shakes his head and curls up tighter. “You’re alright,” Charles says. He wraps an arm around him. Then his face changes, into something like determination, and he pushes Edwin’s head onto his shoulder. “You’re alright, mate.”

Review: Short and sweet fic about Edwin havin' a bit of a panic attack/sensory overload moment.

Cry With Joy At The Depth Of My Love by coloursflyaway Words: 18,028 Rating: T Summary: “Edwin?”, Crystal asks, and Edwin would say something snarky, maybe even something mean, but Charles is wrapped around him like he’ll never let go again, and there are more important matters at hand. “Crystal, what has happened here?”, he asks, and a few seconds later, their new psychic is standing in front of him, trousers splashed with the coffee she dropped, disbelief written across her face. “I was gone for a few hours and now Charles… and the whole building…” He’s not quite sure how to put it, most likely because he still doesn’t understand, and Crystal looks at him like he come back from the Cat King’s lair with an additional head. “Edwin”, she says, slowly, like she is still searching for the words, “what are you talking about? You’ve been gone for six weeks.”

____________

Edwin takes the Cat King up on his initial offer, so instead of a few hours, he is gone for six weeks. Charles isn't good at coping with it.

Review: Charles really goes through it in this one, so if that's what you're looking for than this will be quite fun. The author does a great job at infusing a sense of panic and despair into the story.

here is the repeated image of the lover destroyed by pinklemonades Words: 3,095 Rating: T Summary:

Edwin is in love with his best friend who doesn’t love him back, and the world has not ended. In some ways, he wishes it had.

Edwin deals with the pains of losing a friend while living through the consequences of falling in love with his best friend (aka a Hanahaki Disease post-canon fic).

Review: Very good, short hanahaki AU! Loved the characterization and angst w/ happy ending.

[princessbrunette]

Jedi John b breaking his code to fuck you, the princess of a distant planet he was assigned to protect

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

john b had his serious face on today.

his eyes had clouded over almost, brows in a permanent frown and it was like you could see every thought racing through his head though you didn’t know what they were. you’d stayed quiet on the journey, hands in your lap as the stars flash past you through the windows. whatever john b was planning, it must’ve been important.

you’re not expecting to land in the most beautiful planet you’d ever seen. as a princess, you’d had the privilege of getting to see the galaxy. some beautiful, some struck by war and impoverished — but you’d never seen this place before.

when you’d asked “wow, where are we john b?”

he’d simply responded with “uh, very far from home.” before whistling to his droid to get it to follow the two of you down the ramp.

you’d walked for a while, and you didn’t question anything merely because you were too amazed by the beauty of your surroundings. forestscape surrounds you, vibrant purple flowers entwining the thick branches and the sun beginning to set leaving a pink hue over everything light touched. he cranes round to check on you as he leads you through the scenery, eyes lingering on you when he sees you smiling, a bird like creature you’d never seen before fluttering past, your eyes following in amusement. maker, you were beautiful.

you eventually come to a building, seemingly abandoned at the edge of the forest overlooking the great waterfalls and he holds his hand out. this strikes you as odd because john b never offers to hold your hand, attempting to be professional, you usually simply grab it anyway.

soon, you’re standing in the bright orange sunset infront of the open balcony doors, sheet curtains blowing in the gentle humid breeze.

“why are we here, john b?” your voice is soft like fine silk a hand gently touching his back as he faces away from you.

“so… the other night you begged me for something.” he begins sincerely, staring into your eyes in the intense way he always did once he turns to face you. you’re immediately swarmed by the memory of you begging him to touch you and physically cringe.

“john b, i’m terribly sorry. i had simply had too much wine at the senate gala and i was absolutely beside myself. i shouldn’t have—”

“no just… listen, okay?” he raises his eyebrows, forehead crinkling at the stress on his face and you sink, nodding as you hear him out. he wipes a hand along his jaw in thought before speaking once more. “people seem to think i’m this… perfect jedi, as if that even exists.” he rants, shaking his head, voice low and timbery. “truth is it’s never been hard for me to act like one. i believe in all the rules so, why would i disobey them right?”

he steps closer to you, tilting his head as your eyes drift off in thought to catch your gaze, his own eyes wide and puppy like.

“you make that hard for me because i… just wanna have you all to myself.”

your breath hitches in your throat. he looked insanely gorgeous in that moment, orange glow of the sunset casting shadows across him and warming the highest points of his face, his brown wavy hair lit up and highlighted by the unrelenting sun.

“you do?” you whisper but it’s barely audible. he presses his lips together, brows raised as he nods slowly, taking another step until you were practically chest to chest.

“yep, yes. i do.” his deep voice rumbles infront of you. your brows furrow sympathetically, doe eyes making it hard for him to resist you.

“i’m sorry john b. i never wanted to make it difficult to remain faithful to the jedi council.” you shake your head in worry and he stills you with a soft hand on your cheek, ducking his head.

“hey. don’t be sorry. you… make me feel like a person.” his voice lowers, and you can’t help but selfishly glance at his mouth — in which he does the same.

“s’that why you brought me here john b? to feel like a person?” you breathe, practically sharing oxygen.

“i brought you here…” he begins to walk you slowly backwards towards the large bed. “to make you feel as good as you make me feel. without the concern of anyone else catching us.” he promises and your legs hit the back of the bed, sitting you down with a bounce. you feel the heat rush over your body, the same arousal you felt the night you begged him to touch you — already feeling the slick coating your opening, body desperate to take him. “if, you know… that’s alright with you ma’am.” his lips twitch a little and you bite your smile back, nodding violently.

one thing about the jedi, they had phenomenal stamina. it feels like you’re in and out of consciousness at some points, so lost in a haze of pleasure that you’d forgotten where you were and what was happening. nothing else in the galaxy mattered but john b’s head between your legs, his thick arms, toned from the extensive training a jedi goes through wrapped around your thighs to hold you open, naked body glowing with perspiration as you writhe on the bed.

“m’mph— john—john b, my goodness i’m—” you cry, like actually cry — because it had been such a long time coming. he lifts his head with a sweet smile, chin glossed with your slick and he pushes himself up to hover over you, lips ghosting over yours. you can smell yourself, taste yourself on him, it was all too much.

“you’re crying sweet girl?” he hums in awe, nudging your legs open with his own to slot himself over you.

“please let me feel you. please!” you beg once more, this time with no shame and he pecks your cheek.

“oh you will. it’s a good thing being a jedi taught me patience, right? because… i’m not done making you cum on my tongue.” he drops his voice for the last part, tilting his head, hot breath on your jaw as you shudder. he was right, he was patient — but even you could see the way he was throbbing in his pants for you.

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

[color-beyond-lines]

I have been thinking about the shifting dynamic between Qian and Yuan all week. A ton of people have written really insightful posts about these two, and I can’t get them off my mind.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again: the tragic backstory is not used as a shock factor or just to make you sympathetic towards a character. It is ingrained into Qian and Yuan’s thoughts, behaviors, actions, and responses. And it contributes to their compelling relationship.

Qian is hesitant around intimacy of any kind. Yuan is eager to care for the person who saved him.

We’ve seen from the beginning how much of a caretaker Yuan is for Qian. The vast majority of intimate physical contact Qian accepts is from Yuan (and by intimate I don’t mean romantic. I mean familiar, personal, etc.).

Qian rarely ventures beyond surface level relationships with people. His experiences growing up left him in a constant state of survival. He focuses on work as a means of survival and doesn’t consider slowing down as an option.

We see this at work, where he is often separated from his coworkers and rarely interacting with them outside of a professional capacity. He often stays late and arrives early at the expense of his own wellbeing.

It’s Yuan who bridges the gap. Who asks coworkers to take care of his brother. Who makes Qian sleep and eat right. Who is there at work and at home ensuring that Qian won’t overwork and exhaust himself.

But their relationship is not one-sided. Qian takes care of Yuan as well, making sure he’s able to take advantage of academic opportunities and clubs and things that Qian never had a chance to partake in. He gives Yuan a life where survival is a guarantee, not something to earn.

Qian protects Yuan through hard work. Yuan protects Qian through tender care.

When Yuan is sent away to study abroad, the time skip works because it isn’t used at the very end of the series to jump to happily ever after. Too often, time skips force us to miss important character growth and leave us unsatisfied and wanting more. By placing the time skip towards the middle of the series and using it as an actual part of the story and character development, we are able to see how Qian and Yuan live during the separation and the impact it has on their relationship.

And their reunion is more than one scene before the credits roll. There’s still many episodes for them to keep learning and growing together.

Once Yuan returns, the line between them has shifted. Qian actively seeks out Yuan’s care in a way he never did before. He’s always watching Yuan, reaching out for him, and aware of his presence. He had always welcomed it, but the separation forced him to feel what the absence of Yuan’s care was like. He was miserable.

Yuan matured on his own and still knows that he loves Qian. Being away only confirmed what he already knew. And Qian is starting to realize that he loves Yuan too.

Yuan knows exactly where the boundary is between them, but he’ll let Qian be the one to break it down. They have complex relationship, and it is being respected, not rushed. Moments are earned, not pulled randomly from the trope bucket.