#How to get your wife back after she leaves you

[classyrbf]

STILL IN LOVE! #12 — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…only to realize it’s much more complicated than you led on

INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce, mentions of jail, blood, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

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As soon as you stepped back inside the house you immediately made your way over to the bedroom to grab your phone. Your head was still spinning from what just happened. Your heart was pounding so fast you could hear it in your ears. The thought of Toji going to jail made you anxious, scared. You two finally started off on the right foot, making little progress each day and you didn’t want to tell the kids that their father was in jail. Hell, you didn’t even know how long he’d be in jail for this kind of shit. You didn’t have the money to bail him out, whatever the cost may be. But you had an idea of who might.

Quickly, you called Gojo. The phone rang while you chewed on your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down nervously while you waited. “Hello?” It was like a weight lifted off of your shoulders upon hearing his voice.

“Gojo, thank god you fucking answered,” you sighed.

“Y/n? Oh no…what’d he do this time? Better be worth you waking me up for,” he yawned.

You let out a soft chuckle before explaining, “he’s in jail, or is gonna end up in jail—”

“Hold up, what?” Gojo jumped up, brows furrowing at your words.

“To make a long story short, my ex boyfriend came over this morning while toji was here, he said some shit toji didn’t like and toji beat the shit outta him. Cops were called and they dragged both of them away and said toji will most likely go to jail,” you explained, biting the inside of your cheek.

“And I’m guessing you need me to bail him out? Yeah?”

“Yes…Gojo, please. Me and Toji…we were doing good and the kids and it’s just—”

“Listen, call Shoko to pick the kids up after school and I’ll be over in a little bit,” he said.

“Thank you.”

Toji sat in the chair, hands laying flat on the desk as he waited in the dingy questioning room. He felt like some big time criminal, considering what happened. He was annoyed, having to go through this whole process over a simple fight. “People are pussies,” he muttered to himself. Nanami should’ve kept his mouth shut, especially about the kids. He should’ve left when you asked him to and instead he kept on going.

All Toji could think about was you, wondering if you were disappointed in him, upset or even at your breaking point with him. He promised he wouldn’t mess up his chance, and yet here is sitting in a police station with the high probability of being put behind bars. He impatiently tapped his foot on the ground, the buzzing sound of the overhead fluorescent lights making his head pound. The slight cut on lip still stung everytime he licked his lips, a faint taste of blood on his tongue.

A knock at the door snapped him from his thoughts, a police officer walking in and flashing a quick, fake smile at Toji. “Alright, Mr…Fushiguro.” The man took a seat across from Toji and it couldn’t help but make his eye twitch.

“When can I leave?” Were the first words that came out of his mouth. “I need to see my wife and kids.”

The officer chuckled, shaking his head. “Not until we get your side of the story. We already questioned Mr. Nanami, and we got your wife’s—ex wife’s side as well, so you’re next. Mind telling me what happened from beginning to end?” The officer clicked the blue pen his had in his hand, flipping the next page in his notepad.

“I woke up, made breakfast for my wife and shortly after she woke up as well. We talked for a little, didn’t even get to sit down and eat before the doorbell rang. She answered it and I looked over to see it was her ex boyfriend at the door,” he mumbles, not once shifting his gaze.

“You say she’s your wife and you say Mr. Nanami is he ex boyfriend. But he says that you two are divorced,” the officer adds.

“We are but we plan on working things out, so she’s my wife.” The officer nods are Toji’s words, scribbling it down on the white paper. “I walk over to the door and stand behind her, and they’re having a conversation about their relationship. She told they broke up—he broke up with her because of me and our relationship. Fair enough. She respected it and realized that maybe me and her should work stuff out because of our kids—”

“So why exactly did he show up?” The officer cocks his head to the side.

“To apologize and get her back. Why else would he be there? She didn’t want to and that’s when shit hit the fan.” Toji shrugged.

“By ‘shit hit the fan’ you mean when started saying nasty comments? Your wife said he began belittling her, talking about your kids and your relationship? Am I correct?” His brows raise, the tip of the pen to his paper.

“She asked him to leave, and he wouldn’t. He was saying stuff about how are relationship wouldn’t last and how I only wanted to keep her around for…sex. Then he brought up my kids, and that’s when I knocked his ass to floor. Sound bout right?” Toji blinked, completely uninterested.

“You say she asked him to leave and he wouldn’t?” The officer glances up at him for a quick second.

“Yeah,” toji responds.

“Just one more question, you don’t live there right?” The officer folded his hands in front of him.

Toji hesitated to answer. He knew if he said no, they’d probably charge him, but he said yeah, he’d be lying but he probably won’t get charged due to fact Nanami was most likely trespassing. “I do. Been living there for about a month.”

“Alright, that’s all I needed to know. Be back in few.” The chair screeched against the floor as the officer stood and walked out the room.

With a roll of Toji’s eyes he let out a scoff. “Fucking pigs.”

You paced back and forth in the living room, nervously biting at your nails, anticipating the moment Gojo knocked on the door. You couldn’t believe this was happening. It was like the universe had placed some kind of curse on you. Was it so hard to have one good day? Apparently so. The sound of knocking pulled you from your thoughts, wasting no time to unlock the door where you were met with Gojo himself, in sweatpants, a hoodie, and his hair disheveled. It was weird not seeing him dress up for once.

“Gojo.” You quickly hugged him.

“Hey, hey.” He hugged back, stepping into your house. “So, what the fuck happened? Did he seriously get arrested?” He shook his head in confusion.

You let out a deep sigh, just the thought of talking about it made you feel tired, annoyed, upset. You weren’t sure what you were. “Yes? I mean, they dragged both of them away, but Toji hit first.” You plopped down on the couch, holding your head in your hands. “He’s most likely going to jail.”

“He is going to jail,” Gojo corrected. “If they find out he doesn’t live here, and that he swung first…jail time!” Gojo sat beside you. “Depends on how much your ex boyfriend is willing to tell.” He glanced at you.

You groaned in annoyance, falling back onto the plush cushions. “Okay, but he was talking about our kids and saying all shit to me and—”

“You think cops give a shit? All they care about is sending whoever to jail. Toji or whatever his name is. And knowing Toji’s record with the police, he’s not making it out of this one.” Gojo reached into his pocket pulling out a piece of candy. “Want some?”

You glared at him, blinking. Was he serious? “Did you seriously bring candy?” You asked, looking at the piece of taffy he held between his fingers.

“Yeah, I had a whole bag of ‘em. Anyway, you want it?” He held it out to you.

“Gojo, can we please focus right now? What if he gets let off without a warning? That’s good right?” Someway somehow you’re hoping that’s the best possible outcome in this situation.

“Well, then excellent. Wait, did he like bash his face in? Or how bad are we talking?” Gojo narrowed his eyes.

“Gojo, I don’t know! For fucks sake!” You rose to your feet, stress levels rising higher. “How do we even know he’s in jail? He’s probably locked up as we speak!” You were panicking and you weren’t exactly why. Gojo said he’d bail him out for you, so coming up with money wasn’t a problem. It’s the fact that you felt like this was entirely your fault. Your relationship with Kento and your relationship with Toji, everything came crashing down. As a grown woman with two kids, you’d think you’d know better and know how to confront your own feelings without getting others involved but apparently that was impossible for you.

Though, it’s not like you expect Kento to show up on your doorstep this morning wanting to take you back. You felt horrible. He was a good man, sweet and kind, and you, you were still stuck on your ex husband and clearly that hurt him. You were sorry for that, you take responsibility that. But that gave him no excuse to bring your kids into this. Everything about this was so fucked up. Even more than before.

“Listen, relax. They’ll allow him some phone calls if they do lock him up. He will most likely call you, and you’ll spill the great news to him! No problem!” Gojo shrugged it off, reaching into his pocket to pull out another piece of taffy.

“It’s been like three hours already.” You huff.

“Then he’s probably locked up,” he casually said, popping the candy into his mouth.

“Can you take this seriously for one second?” You you take a deep breath, finding the inner strength not to yell and cuss Gojo out just because you were extremely overwhelmed.

“I am! Listen, you know he’s been in jail before! He’s fine!” Gojo swatted his hand, brushing off the situation like it was so casual.

“Yeah, with you! When you two got into that stupid ass bar fight and Shoko and Geto called me at three in the fucking morning!” Your nostrils flared, rolling your eyes at the man in front of you.

“No need to dwell on the past—wait, is that—”

“What?” You looked at Gojo, eyes wide.

“Is that your phone?” He stands up.

You run towards your bedroom, nearly tripping over your own feet as the sound of your phone ringing grew louder. “Fuck where is it?” Your eyes scanned over your dresser and nightstand before you standing tearing your blankets off of the bed. Your phone flew to the floor and you quickly grabbed it, seeing it was an unsaved number. Fuck.

“Hello? Toji?” Your voice shook as you spoke. You could hear slight breathing on the other end.

“Baby…”

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[cheshirewrites]

It's been years since you fought the dragon, years since you pierced it's crimson scaled and dug your blade into its heart. It was a quick death, and not the slow, painful kind that the King had demanded of you, and some might have even called it merciful.

You fought a lot of things, back then.

You've learned better now.

You left the King's service, citing a quest for your godly patron, and it's not quite a lie. Your patrol is a wild thing, a once scorned Goddess who adores the loyal, but not like most would expect. The Goddess prizes dedication to someone's own ideals, and well-

After what you learned, leaving is not a hard choice to make.

But your Goddess approved, her laughter curling in the back of your mind, and the King hadn't argued, or at the very least, he doesn't make any arguments that aren't easy for you to refute.

It wasn't easy, at first, transitioning from a busy knight to an aimless wanderer. There was no order or schedule to follow, just an endless road through the contry side and all of the towns built around it. And the people, of course, you know now that the people were what made it all worth it.

And now?

It's been years since you fought the dragon, years since you heard those ominous words. I will come back, the beast had said, you will not know what form I will take, or how long it will take, but you will see me again.

These days, you were less rash, slower to anger. The kind of person who asked questions first, and rarely ever raised a blade. You have a wife, a brilliant alchemist with dark curls and a cutting smile. Rose calls herself a cottage witch, and she laughs alongside the Goddess in your head, twin voices ringing with amusement, and you have never been more happy.

You have a son now, too, though, neither of you had expected it.

The boy introduces himself as Victor, standing outside your door with a crooked, toothy grin as he holds out his hand. Says that he'd heard they were the people to talk to, if you had a certain aptitude for magic, and well, here he is.

And indeed, here he is.

Victor, with his fever bright, golden eyes.

The you from years ago would have raised your sword in an instant, pushed Rose behind you and demanded some kind of response. It's what you were trained to do, after all, but you've learned better now.

So you smile, and shake the boy's hand. He's warm, you think, but don't say. "Welcome," you say instead, "why don't you come inside? Rose, my wife, is the one you should speak to."

To put it lightly, Victor and Rose get along like a house on fire.

Victor isn't necessarily quick to anger, but he knows exactly where to redirect his words, and Rose, witty as she is, knows exactly how to manage it. Knows how to redirect his sharp tongue into something calmer, whether it's muttering curses under his breath or bantering back and forth far too quickly for you to keep up.

He's good for her, too, you think, watching them experiment with magic. Rose has always wanted an apprentice, someone to pass her life's work onto and -- if they were interested -- try and create something new.

And gods, they create.

You, a heroic paladin have successfully slain a fearsome dragon. But the dragon warns you that death is but a door, and dragons don’t die, they reincarnate. You paid it no mind….until your son was born with golden, slitted eyes.

[hcneymooners]

⋆ woman of my dreams, don't betray me.

wife!ambessa x wife!reader. men & minors dni.

synopsis: you and ambessa are wives, and your parents have come to visit the two of you. everything will be fine, or would've been if you mother hadn't brought up her desire for grandchildren.

cw: angst, angst with a happy ending, wife!ambessa, wife!reader, age difference, older woman/younger woman, sfw but suggestive content, emotional hurt/comfort, you're a little bit of a crybaby, anxiety attacks, discussions of children and pregnancy.

notes: i hate this so much, but ce la vie hmm? this is a drabble.

“Sweet girl, don't bite your nails. You'll be so upset later.”

“You'll just give me the money to get them done,” you mutter. 

Still, your hands lower from your mouth to tremble yet again over the dinner you've painstakingly made.

Ambessa moves behind you, her presence steady and warm against your back. Her hands settle on your shoulders, thumbs working small circles into the knots that have been building there all day. You lean into her touch despite yourself, despite the anxiety that makes you want to vibrate out of your skin.

“Will this occur before or after you protest against me giving you too much?”

A laugh slips out of you before you can stop it, and you turn to slide your arms around her neck. You take in the strong line of her jaw, the crooked set of her lips with it’s thin stripe of golden jewlery in the middle. You thumb at it, face flushing slightly as she nips at the tip of your finger.

“My nails have yet to cost five hundred dollars, Bessa.”

“I include the tip.”

“I must be incredibly generous.”

“You are,” she hums, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Besides, you never think of tax.”

“Tax?” You say in disbelief. “What tax would they be adding that costs that much? Honestly, Bessa.”

“You never know,” she says with a slow smile. “They could swindle you very easily. You have such a trusting nature.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you tell her, cupping her face.

"Talk to me," she says, and her voice carries that gentle authority that first drew you to her. You turn away, your attempts at misleading her thwarted. "Is it your mother again?”

You stiffen under her hands. "Among other things." The roast in front of you blurs slightly. 

You can picture her expression without turning around - that careful neutrality she wears when she's processing something that angers her. It's the same look she gets in meetings when someone has said something particularly stupid.

"And what did you say to her?"

"Nothing. I deleted it. I’ve never been any good at convincing her to leave me alone." You pull away from her hands to adjust a perfectly arranged plate for the third time. "It's easier than explaining. Than having the same argument over and over about how I'll change my mind, how I just haven't met the right person yet." You pause, throat tight. "As if you're not..."

"As if I'm not what?" There's an edge to her voice now, not angry but intent. When you don't answer, she gently turns you to face her. "Look at me, little dove."

You do, though it hurts. She's beautiful in the warm kitchen light, silver hair gleaming, dark eyes fixed on yours with an intensity that still makes your heart skip even after all this time. You see the question in them and can't bear to answer it.

"The table still needs-"

"The table is perfect. You're being avoidant."

A laugh bubbles up, slightly hysterical. "Isn't that what I do best?"

"No." Her hand cups your cheek. You can smell her: blonde wood, vetiver, pink pepper, dry vanilla. "What you do best is love fiercely and completely. And we agreed that that meant being honest with one another.”

She titls your head up, presses a thumb against your pulse. The action makes you almost confess the words that crowd your throat, threatening to spill out:

I'm terrified you'll realize I can't give you the family you deserve. That one day you'll look at me and see all the things I'm not, all the things I can't be. That you'll regret choosing someone so much younger, so much less certain of their place in the world. That my mother is right and I'm being selfish, denying you something fundamental.

But before you can voice any of it, the doorbell rings. Your whole body goes rigid. Your hands come to your sides and you’re back to shaking, neck burning with sudden stress. 

“I’ll get the door,” you say.

Your voice is rasping, as if you’ve swallowed down endless snakes of smoke.

‧₊˚ ⋅  𓐐𓎩 ‧₊˚ ⋅ 

Dinner is excruciating. Your mother talks about your cousin's new baby, about how wonderful motherhood looks on her, about how she's "simply glowing." You push food around your plate and feel Ambessa's concerned glances, even as she masterfully deflects conversation toward politics, toward her work, toward anything else.

But with each deflection, you can feel her growing more tense beside you - the way she sets her wine glass down with just a fraction more force, how her knife scrapes against the china with military precision.

"But really," your mother says, wine glass tilting dangerously in her hand, "I just don't understand why you two haven't started trying yet. Ambessa, dear, you must want more children? And you're not getting any younger-"

The fork clatters from your hand. "Mother."

You can feel your body pulsing with that sick warmth that comes with the rush of tears. You’re boring a hole through the dining room table with your gaze, eyes growing large and wet. If you were a lamb, you’d be bleating except your mother is the wolf so who will be the one to save you? 

Beside you, Ambessa goes perfectly, terrifyingly still. The kind of stillness that precedes a storm, that makes the hair on the back of your neck rise. You can see her hand flat against the table, the metal of her rings catching the light, and you know without looking that her face has taken on that marble-smooth expression that makes junior officers quake in their boots.

"I'm only giving you something to think about, my love. I’ve been you before. You think you have so much time, you know? It’s just—you've always been so good with kids, sweetheart. Remember how you used to babysit for the Hendersons? And Ambessa's children turned out so well-"

"Stop." Your voice comes out strangled. "Please."

Ambessa's hand sneaks under the table to grasp your thigh. The touch is slightly grounding but you can feel the tremor in her fingers - not from fear, but from restraint. You know she wants you to look at her, but then you'll really begin to lose it.

You'll spill over, right into her lap, because she always could unlatch your body in ways you thought were only for other people.

You catch the slight movement of her jaw, the way she swallows whatever cutting remark she wants to make. Because this is your mother, and Ambessa—for all her power, all her authority, because of the love—is letting you handle this your way. But the tension in her body screams of fury, of a woman forced to watch her beloved take wounds she can't deflect.

"I don't see why you're being so sensitive about this. It's a natural progression-"

"Natural?" You're standing now, though you don't remember deciding to. "Natural is me not wanting to vomit every time someone mentions me being pregnant. Natural is not having a panic attack every time you send me another fertility clinic link or baby clothes or-" Your voice breaks. "I can't. I can't do this."

You flee, ignoring your mother's startled "Well!" and your father's awkward attempt to change the subject. You're halfway up the stairs before the tears start properly, and by the time you reach your bedroom, you can barely see. The door locks behind you with a satisfying click.

You stumble to the vanity, clutch blindingly at your hair to yank out the pins. You feel out of control, your hands sliding up your neck and over your face.

A sob slips out despite you clutching your fingers over your mouth, and you press at your stomach until you feel the urge to dispel the mixture of your decayed dinner and acid that sits within it.

The bed. You need to be under the bed. It's childish and ridiculous but it's where you used to hide when things got too much, and right now everything is too much. You curl up in the darkness there, pressed against the wall, and try to remember how to breathe.

Time passes. You hear murmured voices downstairs, the front door opening and closing. Footsteps on the stairs - Ambessa's, you'd know them anywhere.

"Little dove?" A gentle knock. "Let me in?"

"It's unlocked," you manage, voice thick.

The door opens. A pause.

"Are you under the bed?"

"...yeah."

Another pause. Then, to your utter astonishment, you hear grunting and turn to find Ambessa - your tall, dignified, warrior-queen wife - attempting to squeeze herself under the bed frame.

"What are you doing?" you ask, hiccuping between tears and startled laughter.

"Coming to get you," she says, voice strained as she wriggles forward. "Though I'm beginning to think this bed was not built for someone of my size."

"You're going to get stuck."

"Then we'll be stuck together." She finally manages to get next to you, though she has to lie completely flat to fit. "Hello, sweet girl."

A rush of gratitude floods you and you press forward, drawing her into a soft kiss. She deepens it, sliding a large hand underneath your thigh and holding you to her. You part with a soft, slick noise. 

“You’re always meeting me where I am, even when you don’t understand,” you tell her. “Literally.” 

You gesture weakly at the whole predicament. The absurdity of it - Ambessa Medarda, covered in dust bunnies, cramped under a bed - breaks something in you. 

"I have this terrible secret inside me, and it’s that I feel so—so sick when I think about being a mother," you blurt out. The words slide out of you, like maggots from a rotting body. "Not—not your children, I love them, but being one myself. Having them. I can't. I won't. And I know you must want- but I can't, I just can't, please don't leave me.” You begin to sob again. “Please, Bessa. Please don’t leave me. Please. Plea-”

"Shh." She pulls you closer, awkward in the confined space but no less tender for it. You tuck your head into her neck as she soothes you. "Shh, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

"But-"

"I have two children," she says firmly. "Two wonderful, grown children who I love dearly. I have never once thought about having more. What I want - all I want - is you. Happy. Whole. Exactly as you are."

You're crying again, but differently now. "Really?"

"Really." She strokes your hair, rocking you as best she can in the tight space. "Though I would very much like to have this conversation somewhere with fewer dust bunnies."

You laugh wetly into her shirt. "Sorry."

"Don't be. I would crawl under a thousand beds for you. Even into a grave." She kisses your forehead. "But perhaps we could move on top of this one? My back is not what it used to be."

"You’re really not getting any younger," you quip, the onslaught of relief making you giddy.

"Watch it, little dove." But she's smiling - you can hear it in her voice. "Now come out before we really do get stuck."

“What if we stayed here forever,” you whisper, “and you never let me go?”

She releases you, then shimmies out from the crawl space. Gently, she curls a hand around your ankle and pulls you out with a sharp yank. You gasp as you emerge from your hiding space, hair spilling around you and your dress rucked up just enough to display your panties.

Ambessa leans over, drags the dress further up until she can kiss the swell of your breasts. She looks up you, face ever-calculating.

“I will never release you,” she finally says. 

It should scare you, the clear promise, but it doesn’t. You lead her hand to your throat, just to hold it there, and smile instead.

© hcneymooners.

[starkwlkr]

girl, so confusing | f1

an: this is SADLY the last part :( don’t worry, i do plan on writing more fics for the f1 dilf!! here’s your long awaited reveal on the baby daddy lol made this one extra long for y’all <3 enjoy!!

part 1 part 2

faceclaim gisele bündchen

liked by ynstyle, goss1pformulas and others

f1gossiproom could mark webber be the father? recently former red bull and williams drivers, mark and y/n have been spending time together. the pair were spotted having dinner several times and a source confirmed that webber attended y/n’s daughter’s recital! they were once again spotted out in australia spending time in bondi beach with y/n’s daughter (not pictured to protect her privacy) they were soon joined by friends and webber’s family. a source, who wishes to remain anonymous, saw them and said y/n’s daughter, gemma, and mark were bonding as if they were dad and daughter 👀 he even calls her ‘gem’ and ‘gemmy’! what do you think? is mark webber the real father? we certainly think so!

formulaho3 how about just leave them alone?

roscoesno1fan mark looks like a total dilf in that pic so yes

oscarspastry what if the real father is the friends we made along the way?

webberxvettel i need to know the truth before i die

hamiltonsmerecedes not f1 twitter trying to cancel y/n for getting with their faves 😭

lnwhores i stand by my cancelled wife

myhonestbitchface and when y/n reveals that sebastian is the bd then what 🤨 i feel it in my gut 👀 that german bitch is the bd

blackwidowswife bitch you’re just hungry

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THE PADDOCK SESSIONS has posted a new YouTube video!

Italics = voiceover by y/n

“Hello!” Y/n’s daughter, Gemma, opened the door to Dan. She knew that he was going to film an interview with her mother about her racing career. She watched as Dan’s camera man waved to her. She assumed they had already started filming.

“Gemma hates and loves when I’m away. She stays with her grandparents when I have to leave or if her dad is not busy then they’ll be together. I think she loves it because her dad lets her have ice cream before bed. I’m more of a strict parent between me and him.”

Photos of little Gemma appear on screen. The young girl was picture with her mother on her first birthday, then with Mark and family members then Sebastian and Jenson.

Dan entered Y/n’s London home with Gemma by his side. He spotted Y/n making tea. “Got here just in time.” He laughed as he joined the former driver in the kitchen.

“I hope the flight here wasn’t too bad.” Y/n passed a mug over to Dan.

“Slept my way through it,” before Dan could take a sip from his tea, he noticed the mug that he was given. It had ‘best dad ever’ sloppily written in paint. “Cute.” He held the mug up and smiled.

“Yeah, Gemma made it for her dad last year for Father’s Day.” Y/n smiled proudly at her daughter’s creation.

That’s when Gemma joined the conversation. “But I couldn’t give it to him on actual Father’s Day! He was away racing and couldn’t be here so I had to give it to him later.” She explained.

After the pair finished their tea, they walked together to Y/n’s small garden. There she had a little seating area where the rest of the interview would take place.

“Lovely garden.” Dan commented.

“Thank you, although I won’t take all the credit. Sebastian comes to help, Gemma kind of bosses him around telling him where each flower looks best.” Y/n laughed, setting her mug on the glass table.

“Dad loves the flowers I picked out for the garden.” Gemma pointed out as she joined them outside. As Dan started the interview, Gemma kept playing outside with her toys.

More images of a young Y/n flashed on screen. She was driving for Williams at the time, they were her first ever team.

“Williams was my first home. They were nice to me, but they put so much pressure on me to perform, like every race had to be perfect. And when it wasn’t, you could feel the disappointment, like a weight hanging in the air. I’d go back to my hotel room at night, and it was just me and the silence.”

The video showed a clip of young Y/n in the Williams garage getting ready for her debut race. She noticed the camera then smiled and waved. The video then cuts to from a happy, full of life Y/n to a gloomy, quiet Y/n sitting alone in her garage.

“I didn’t have friends in the paddock back then. Everyone was focused on their own thing, and the people around me—the trainers, the engineers—they all kept their distance. One of my trainers actually told me, ‘I’m not here to be your friend; I’m here to work.’ And that’s when I realized I was completely on my own."

Y/n then looked over her shoulder and saw Gemma using a teddy bear that her father had bought the girl for her birthday last year in Germany. The former driver smiled at the memory of her little family spending a special day together.

Back to the interview, Y/n then talked to Dan about her divorce. It was a dark time for her. She had been young when she said ‘I Do’ to a man she thought was the love of her life. At the time of her marriage, her husband was six years older. She was nineteen at the time, about to turn twenty.

Several headlines from the day her marriage was announced appeared on screen.

“Barely an Adult, Already a Wife: Y/N Marries Six Years Her Senior”

“Y/N’s Whirlwind Marriage: Chasing Love, Not Podiums?”

“Teenage Racer’s Rush to the Altar: Desperate for Love or Just Immature?”

“Is Y/N Looking for Validation in All the Wrong Places?”

“‘She’ll Marry Anyone’: Critics Slam Y/N’s Hasty Decision at Just 19”

"They painted me as some kind of desperate girl who couldn’t handle being alone. The truth was, I was 19, scared, and in love—or at least I thought I was. But that didn’t matter to them. They just wanted to sell papers."

Dan then spoke. “What led to the divorce?”

Y/n sighed deeply. Only a few people knew the real reason. “It’s . . . a complicated thing to talk about. I mean, when you’re nineteen and in love, or what you think is love, you don’t always see the red flags. At the time, I thought I’d found someone who believed in me, who would support me no matter what. But as time went on, I realized that wasn’t the case."

A picture of Y/n getting ready by herself on her wedding day appears on screen. Her family were not present as her husband at the time wanted it to be only them. She smiled brightly at the camera as her photo was taken. The image fades then clips of Y/n racing in the early 2000s play.

“He wanted a family. Kids, a house, the whole thing. And there’s nothing wrong with that, but he wanted it then, right when my career was just beginning. He gave me an ultimatum—racing or him."

Dan lightly gasped at her words. “Oh . . .”

“I chose racing. How could I not? It was everything I’d worked for, everything I’d dreamed of. But he didn’t take it well. He made me feel like I was selfish, like I was throwing away a chance at a ‘real’ life."

Several more images of Y/n and her then husband flash on screen. There’s no photos of him attending races, mostly because he thought racing was dumb and didn’t like loud crowds.

“He didn’t trust me. Whenever I was away at races, he’d insist I call him every single day, sometimes multiple times. If I missed a call because I was in a meeting or debrief, he’d accuse me of . . . things. Things that weren’t true. I couldn’t even have a normal conversation with my trainer or my team principal without worrying about how he’d react."

"There were times I wanted to visit my family, to go home and just breathe. But he’d make me feel so guilty for even thinking about it, like I was abandoning him. So I stopped trying."

The screen cuts back to Y/N on the sofa. Her hands are clasped tightly now, her voice calm but with an undercurrent of emotion.

“And then the divorce was final and for a moment I was happy until he went to the media spreading all sorts of lies.” Y/n added.

Several more magazine headlines appear on screen.

“The Truth About Y/N: Ex-Husband Reveals Why Their Marriage Failed”

“‘She Wanted the World to Love Her, Not Me’: Y/N’s Ex Speaks Out”

“‘All She Cared About Was Fame’: Y/N’s Ex-Husband Speaks Out About Their Divorce”

Then the screen cuts to clips of Y/n’s ex husband being interviewed about their marriage.

“I sacrificed so much to support her career, but she couldn’t give me the one thing I wanted: a family. She was too busy chasing the cameras and the glory.”

“It was rough. Instead of being asked about racing, I was asked about my failed marriage.” Y/n recalled all the times during interviews when her ex-husband’s name was mentioned. “I just wanted to go home a cry, but I had a job to do. But of course the attention I was getting got me fired.”

“How were you told you were no longe driving for Williams?” Dan asked.

“Would you believe it if I said it was a ten second phone call from Claire Williams?” Y/n laughed. “Claire and I were never enemies. A few days after I got her call, she had dinner in my house and explained to me that she didn’t want to be the one to call me, but she was pressured to. Apparently the Williams team thought it was best for her to tell me in a phone call because they thought it would be ‘easier’ if the news came from her, since she’s a woman. They thought it would hurt less coming from her. Can you believe that?"

Dan noticed how Y/n laughed at the mention of the famous ten second phone call.

“It was definitely ridiculous of them. But they didn’t understand how humiliating it was either way. But Claire . . . I could tell she hated it. She ended the call so quickly because she didn’t want to do it. She didn’t want me to be dropped from the team."

A photo showed of Claire Williams talking to Y/n before a race. At the time, Y/n didn’t know it, but Claire was her only friend.

“I don’t blame her for how it happened. She was caught in the middle of a decision that wasn’t hers to make. And honestly, her coming to my house afterward to explain—that meant something. It didn’t fix anything, but it showed she cared." Y/n finished drinking her tea then resumed speaking. “That ten-second call changed everything for me. But at least I know it wasn’t Claire’s choice. It was just . . . Williams being Williams."

“After everything that happened with Williams, you had every reason to step away from the sport. But instead, you joined McLaren. Looking back now, would you say that was the decision that changed everything for the better?" Dan questioned. He watched as her face softened. She truly adored her time with mclaren.

Y/n nodded. “Joining McLaren felt like a fresh start, like a second chance to prove what I was capable of. At Williams, I was just surviving. But at McLaren, I got to thrive."

Clips of Y/n during her time with the mclaren team played. Her smile was genuine and she looked happier than ever.

“I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep racing. I didn’t know if I could trust another team. But McLaren . . . they believed in me in a way no one else had."

"It wasn’t just about the racing, though. McLaren gave me a second chance, not just at my career, but at myself. It reminded me why I fell in love with this sport in the first place."

“And then came those three idiots.” Y/n laughed when she remembered becoming friends with Mark, Jenson and Sebastian. Her cheeks tinting slightly, but her smile stays steady.

“But with that friendship came negative comments. I remember reading articles calling you horrible names just for having friendships with them.” Dan commented.

“Those negative comments still come my way even after many years,” Y/n added. “I stayed away from social media for that same reason until recently.”

“But with sharing your life on social media also came questions about your daughters life as well.”

Y/n knew it was something that was going to come up in the interview. Dan didn’t want to ask, but Y/n wanted to share. Gemma’s father and her had discussed it before and they both agreed to the interview.

“Yeah, the whole ‘who’s the father?’ thing has taken over every social media app i have. I can’t avoid it, especially when people constantly message me about it.” Y/n spoke. “Jenson thinks it’s hilarious.”

“Jenson?” Dan questioned.

“Yeah, he sent me a meme about it comparing us to Mamma Mia. I sent it to Sebastian and he sent it to Mark.”

The remainder of the interview, Y/n talked about her family she shared with the man who endlessly supported through everything. Every time she talked about him, she smiled brightly. It was clear that she loved him and their daughter more than anything.

As the video came to an end, Gemma was seen running towards someone who was out of frame. “Dad’s home!” Gemma jumped into his arms and hugged him.

“I thought you were flying in next week.” Y/n stood up to hug him.

“I come here to surprise you and Gem and this is how I’m treated?” He placed a kiss on Y/n’s temple, still holding onto Gemma. “Sorry, I definitely interrupted you two, haven’t I?”

“It’s alright, Jenson. We were just wrapping things up.”

INSTAGRAM

liked by landonorris, wagstyle and others

f1gossip after finally revealing the identity of her daughter’s father, y/n and her daughter gemma were seen together in a beach in california 👀 jenson button also lives in california so we’re thinking the button family is spending some time together.

vettelsbees GIRL SEB WAS SPOTTED AT LAX

hamiltonsmercedes AND MARK

nicorosbergisadiva WHAT IS GOING ONNNN

landonorris hey i know her

ferraridepressionclub ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HEREEE

webbertears what do you know you gremlin

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“Can I have money for ice cream?” Gemma ran up to her parents, Mark and Sebastian. The former drivers were all enjoying the sunshine of California, an idea that came from Gemma. She had been the one to call Mark and Sebastian to join her and her parents. They agreed even if they cancelled their plans with friends. They would literally do anything for the young girl.

Without hesitation, all the men took out their wallets and took out money for the girl. Their actions caused both Gemma and Y/n to laugh.

“Okay, thank you.” She gladly took the money from each of them.

“I’ll go with you, Gemmy,” Mark said as he got up from his spot and took Gemma’s hand in his. Together they walked to the ice cream stand.

“Has Claire called you?” Sebastian wondered. Ever since the interview was posted, the Williams team had posted several posts of Y/n when she was driving for them. They were finally acknowledging her wins and podiums. And of course they received some criticism from fans.

“She messaged me letting me know she watched the interview. She’s happy I did it.” Y/n replied.

“We all are. You should’ve done the interview years ago.” Jenson said.

Y/n only nodded and turned her attention to Mark and Gemma. The girl had always been close to both the German and Australian drivers, how couldn’t she when they had been in her mothers life and now they were in hers.

“Gemma asked if she could go to a race, but she wants you all to be there.” Y/n spoke up. Gemma desperately wanted the three men to join her. Y/n knew they would all say yes immediately.

“Did she say which one?” Sebastian asked.

“She said she wants to go to each of your home races.” Y/n grinned as Jenson immediately said he was in. Sebastian laughed then nodded. Of course they would join Gemma, the girl had them all wrapped around her finger.

“And will you be attending too?” Jenson winked at her. “We could do a repeat of what happened after Australia.”

“Funny, I was about to suggest the same thing but it happened in Canada.” Sebastian teased.

“Well weren’t you a busy woman.” Jenson smirked. “And Mark?”

Y/n kept quiet, innocently sipping her lemonade. After setting her drink down, the former drivers waited for her answer. “If you must know . . . We were in Vegas.”

Jenson groaned. “I was thinking Monaco.”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, baby.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Shhh....

Summary: Being a single parent comes with all kinds of challenges. Challenges that are so much easier to deal with when the father of your daughter's best friend is there to take of your more personal needs. And if that meant sneaking off with you into a laundry room at a garden party? Well who would he be to complain?

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Rating: E

Warnings: smut (semi public sex, unprotected sex, oral f receiving, cumplay) friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of flirting, fluff?

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist

He didn’t know exactly why he agreed to go to this garden party. It was one of the few Saturdays he had off and he wanted it to spend with Sarah. She’s been in middle school since the summer and with all the changes that brought they only had little time to hang out in the last few weeks. 

So when Sarah brought the invitation for this garden party that the parents of one of her new classmates were throwing, he wanted to decline. But Sarah told him she really wanted to go, and that if he had something else to do that day, he could just drop her off and pick her up after?

But of course Joel Miller went with her. 

And it wasn’t that bad. The drinks were cold, the food was good and meeting all the new parents at the beginning of the year was a good thing too. Even if he already had forgotten most of their names. There were a few faces he recognised from Sarah’s elementary school, so he kept talking to them, all while having an eye out on Sarah who was playing soccer with some kids at the other side of the backyard. 

„Fancy seeing you here,“ he heard your voice behind him, and his eyes closed before he took a deep breath and turned around, fighting unsuccessfully against the smile that sneaked to his lips as he looked down at you. 

„Could say the same,“ he winked and your smile widened. 

This party just got interesting. 

You were running late.

The plan was to leave around twenty minutes ago but Charlotte, your daughter, just couldn’t decide on what to wear. She just turned twelve and if this last half year was a preview on how puberty would be with her, than you were in for a wild ride. 

Usually you used the weekends to charge your mental batteries by having as little contact to the outside world as possible after working at a bakery and having to be social all week. 

But Charlotte had brought the invitation for the garden party a couple weeks ago, begging you to go because Sarah would be there too. 

And where Sarah was, her father wasn’t far behind which was why you said yes in the end and spend way too much time on deciding what to wear before you decided on a light summer dress. 

It had been a while since you seen him, and you couldn’t even remember the last time the two of you had found the time to have sex.

Because ever since Charlotte and Sarah became best friends some time back in pre school, you and Joel started sleeping together occasionally. The first time happened after a night out at the bar where you ran into him, both of your kids on a sleepover. It had been positively mind-blowing and you were more than eager to agree to keep this going when you both needed a release. 

His wife had left him and Sarah before the girl turned one and your husband had used your pregnancy to fuck his secretary because apparently carrying his child made you unattractive to him.

And with both you and Joel being very devoted single parents, both of your love lives was pretty much non existent. You wouldn't say it was frequent now, but every month or two you would find some hours where you’d meet up at either of your houses, not leaving before both of you were more than satisfied. 

And you didn’t know if it was the secrecy of the whole thing, but my god the way Joel Miller knew how to play your body to the point of a crying orgasm was addictive.

But now you hadn’t really seen him in almost three months. 

With the school change and summer break things were busy not only for you, but for him too. You texted occasionally, trying to figure out a time to meet up, but business was picking up for Miller construction and Joel used the little time he had off to spend with Sarah. 

Something you could understand. 

So you were excited to see him as you parked your car right behind his on the street after Charlotte finally had chosen a dress to wear. You knew all that time deciding on her outfit would be for nothing once they played soccer, but hey. 

Charlotte was off to see Sarah as soon as you stepped into the garden, many people already mingling. The smell of fresh BBQ lingered in the air and before you even had taken two steps inside you already had an iced tea in hand, the host, one of the moms of a new classmate of Charlotte that you had met before, welcoming you. 

You were glad that Charlotte and Sarah where in the same class, both of them loving each other like sisters. With Joel working so much you had Sarah over more often lately, seeing Joel only when he picked her up. 

She was very well behaved and deep down you got the impression she loved hanging around with just girls for a change. Of course Joel was the best father, but there are some things that teenage girls don’t want to speak to their dads about. 

Such as how to use the eyeliner she secretly bought correctly or the awkward question about what to use, pads or tampons or period underwear?

It was nice that she trusted you with questions like that. 

You knew from Joel that she had struggled to not have a mom like other kids and he told you it was nice that she now had you to ask all those questions. 

Not that you were her mom, or wanted to be. 

Well…. Okay maybe sometimes deep into the night when you looked at the empty space in bed next to you, you might imagine how it would be if Joel would be there, every day. How could you not?

He was the hot single dad every mom in class always wanted and you were the one who had him. Occasionally. But still.

You let your eyes gaze through the backyard before you saw the broad shoulders of the man you had hoped would be here.

You could feel the butterflies in your belly as you walked over to him and fuck that smile he gave you when he turned around…

„Work still keeping you busy?“ You asked a little while later, both of you with a plate of food in front of you, sitting at one of the tables outside. 

„Yeah. Can’t remember when I got more than five hours of sleep at night the last time,“ he groaned and you reached one hand over to rest on his knee before you could stop yourself. 

„You got to take care of yourself, honey. Let that brother of yours pick up some slack too,“ you winked and he gave you a bashful smile before one of his hands came to rest on top of yours. 

„He does. As a matter of fact he’s taking over the next project so I have some more free time to spend with Sarah,“ he said and you hummed. 

„And if I’m being completely honest there’s this girl I haven’t spend any time with in the last months and I really really miss her and her little pussy,“ he had leaned in, whispering the last words against your ear and you shivered. 

„Just her pussy?“ You mumbled back as you looked up at him and he smirked. 

„Nah, she’s the whole fucking deal. Should probably get off my own ass and finally as her out on a date instead of just fucking he brains out whenever she lets me,“ he said and you sucked your bottom lip in as you tried to hide your smile.

You looked away from him for a moment, gathering your thoughts, making up your mind. 

You needed him, and you needed him now. 

„Think you can show me where the bathroom is? I think I need a little refresh,“ you asked, hoping he would get the hint. And by the shit eating grin that came to his face, he did. 

„Of course. Follow me.“

„This… This is not the bathroom,“ you mumbled against his lips, his body pressing you against the door of what looked like a laundry room. 

„Less interruptions here,“ he hummed, hand slipping under your dress, finger hooking into your panties, pulling them down. You smiled, hands in his hair as you helped him get your panties off. 

„Been too damn long,“ he ran his hand up your leg, wrapping it behind his back, his other hand on your back puling you closer before he kissed you again, his tongue playing with yours as you reached down, unzipping his pants. 

„Missed me so much you gonna fuck me in some people’s laundry room? Want us to get caught?“ You grinned, hand pulling out his cock, surprised to find out he wasn’t wearing any underwear. Wrapping your palm around his cock you loved the deep groan he released against your lips. 

„Not gonna get caught if you keep quiet baby,“ he hooked your leg over his arm, hand on the door behind you as he stepped closer, opening you up for him. 

„Oh yeah, because I am the one who can’t keep quiet,“ you teased and he huffed a laugh, replacing your hand around his cock with his as he pumped himself and lined himself up. 

You wrapped one arm around his shoulders, standing only one one leg, trusting him to keep you there. 

Slowly he finally sank into you, his thick cock stretching you perfectly. 

„Fuckin’ perfect,“ he grunted, lips pressing against yours in a deep kiss when his cock filled you completely, both of you moaning quietly. 

„This ain’t gonna take long, sweetheart. Been to fuckin’ long,“ he grunted and you gasped when he moved, bottoming out completely before thrusting back inside. 

„Don’t care, just fuck me,“ you whimpered and he nodded against your lips, fucking up into you, skin slapping against skin every time he filled you. 

You sucked your bottom lip in, trying to keep quiet as he hammered into you, his lips now attached to your shoulder as he groaned into your skin. 

„Shit,“ he grunted just a couple of thrusts later and you felt him twitch as he came, spilling inside of you. Letting your head fall against the door you gasped for ear, having not cum but fuck it still felt good to just have him inside of you.

You were about to say something when he got on his knees, cock pulling out of you, your leg now hooked over his shoulders as his tongue replaced his cock, Joel moaning as he tasted you. 

„Oh fuck,“ you whimpered, hands now in his hair as he looked up at you. He grinned wickedly as he licked into you, licked his cum out of you. 

„We taste good together,“ he mumbled against your cunt, and you pulled at his hair with a quiet whine. 

„Shhh Baby. Don’t want anyone to hear what a little slut your are for me huh?“ He teased and you pulled his hair harder, making him moan as he continued to lick you. 

He sucked on your clit, tongue playing with it all while pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

„Joel,“ you moaned softly, your head falling back against the door as you finally came, gasping for air as your body shook in Joel’s hold. You melted against the door once you rode it out, limbs feeling like jello. He kissed your pussy one last time, before he set your leg down, keeping his arms around you as he got off of his knees. You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him hard once he stood upright. 

„We do taste good together,“ you whispered and he chuckled. 

It was two hours later, nobody at the party had noticed the very explicit things you did in that laundry room, that Joel carried a very tired Charlotte towards your car, Sarah already sleeping in the backseat of his car. 

You opened the backseat door of your car for him and he carefully sat Charlotte down, putting the belt on for her. 

You were leaning against the back of your car as he closed the door and he walked towards you. 

„What are you doing next Friday?“ He asked, fingers tilting your chin up.

„Nothing. Charlotte is with her Dad,“ you said with a small smile. 

„And Sarah is at her Grandma’s for a sleepover,“ he hummed with a smirk. 

„Wanna go on a date with me?“ He asked and you grinned, getting on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. 

„I thought you’d never ask.“

[burningembers91]

The Beginning of Something Beautiful - Hwang In-Ho x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to: The Girl Next Door Kimchi Stew

Synopsis: When Hawng In-Ho's past is revealed, he must decide whether to continue living with his demons, or run towards the light.

Warnings: mentions of deceased wife, sexual content, 18+ only!

It’ll get easier over time. That’s what Hwang In-Ho had been told countless times by friends, family and even strangers after the death of his wife. He hadn’t believed them at first, hadn’t wanted to think of a world without her. But lately, he’d started to understand what they meant. Yes, the pain was still there, and maybe it always would be, but each day he found it a little easier to get out of bed. He’d started making friends at work, had begun exercising again and taking runs through the park he’d spent so long looking at from his apartment window. He was learning to laugh more, to smile at the small things and to find beauty in the everyday. He was slowly letting himself open up to you, showing you small snippets of the man he’d once been; the man who liked to tell jokes, who loved vintage cars, and who got overly competitive when it came to board games. He still hadn’t opened up about his past, but he was showing the man he truly was, not the grumpy hermit who shut himself away from the world.

In-Ho was still an enigma, some kind of handsome riddle you hadn’t been able to solve yet. He was spending more and more time at your apartment but stopped coming over under the guise of fixing things. He started to come over just to hang out, to watch TV or to go for a walk. He’d even invited you over to his apartment. The once bare room was now full of furniture, the walls repainted and decked out with paintings and prints. He’d cooked for you, proving himself to be an excellent chef. There were so many things still unspoken between you, but you were happy.

You could still hear him crying through the thin walls though, could still hear the turmoil he faced when the lights went out. You’d sworn you’d heard him say your name at times, his strangled groans as he fought with himself between his lust for you and his undying devotion to the woman he’d married. He was finding it harder to resist you, falling into an anguished cycle of dreaming about your touch, and punishing himself for thinking about another woman. You had slotted so nicely into his new life, the woman who had brought him back from the dead. He wanted to repay you for everything you’d done for him, but how could he when you didn’t know how much you’d saved him?

He was stacking shelves at work when you arrived, basket in hand as you did your weekly shop. You both smiled when you saw each other, In-Ho offering a small wave as he added another loaf of bread to the shelf. “Poor man,” an old lady tutted next to you. “Such a shame.” “I’m sorry?” you asked, looking at the wizened figure next to you, her head shaking as she watched In-Ho. “His wife died,” she explained, “liver failure. Killed her and their baby. It almost killed him.” You stared open-mouthed as she walked off, leaving you shellshocked. If it was true, it would explain so much about the man you’d come to care for so deeply. You had to force your feet to move you around the store, filling your basket in sickening silence as your mind reeled.

You couldn’t bring yourself to ask In-Ho about it, to ask whether his family had been so cruelly taken from him. it just wasn’t something you could casually slide into a conversation. You found it hard to concentrate at your next dinner, trying and failing to feign laughter at a story you hadn’t even heard him telling. All you could you see was a man whose family had been ripped from him. You wanted to hold his hand, to tell him everything would be ok. You’d spent so long thinking about whether your relationship would become something more than a friendship, and now you understood why it hadn’t.

Hwang In-Ho sensed the change in you, saw the pity in your eyes. Someone must have told you, must have tipped you off about his broken past. He knew it was Mrs Park. That old bat had never been able to resist gossip. He didn’t want to lose you, didn't want to risk you pulling away. he knew he needed to tell you about his past, knew he needed to come clean before you heard anything else. Every day he was finding it harder to remain alone. He was beginning to see a future with you, to see something other than the crushing loneliness he had resigned himself to.

Catching you one night as you entered your apartment, he invited you over for dinner. “You know about my… my wife,” he said, and he watched your eyes plummet to the floor. “Yes, sorry,” you admitted, “it was Mrs Park. You know what she’s like. Can’t resist a bit of gossip.” “I want to explain. There are things…” he didn’t know how to finish the sentence, didn’t know how to encompass his feelings into words. “Please join me for dinner,” he whispered. He hoped the desperation in his voice hadn’t been apparent. He didn’t want you to pity him, he’d spent enough time pitying himself. “Ok,” you smiled, “I’ll see you later.”

When you arrived that evening, In-Ho could feel his hands shaking. He’d prepared a feast, his small apartment filled with the scent of cooking and pine scented candles. You were so beautiful in your burgundy dress, clutching a bottle of wine in your hand as you entered. The dynamic had changed between the two of you yet again, and he was hoping tonight he could steer it in a more positive direction. He’d spent many a sleepless night wrestling with himself. He would always love his wife, but he couldn’t deny the life he wanted with you; the life he hoped you wanted to.

You drank wine, and ate dinner, and laughed as you both relaxed. He’d filled out over the last few months, his taut muscles visible through the fabric of his shirt. His smile and his eyes were a little brighter, and you found yourself getting lost in him as he told you story after story. “I’ve been so alone for such a long time,” he confessed. “I punished myself for something that wasn’t my fault.” He looked you dead in the eyes as he spoke the next words. “I love my wife, very much.” “I know you do,” you smiled sadly. You braced yourself for what was coming next, for the heartbreaking crush of rejection. “But… these last few months, they have meant more to me than you will ever know.” He downed the last of his wine for Dutch courage before continuing. “You have brought me so much joy, you’ve given me a reason to get out of bed every day. I had to keep finding reasons to see you, I had to keep pretending things in your apartment were broken because I didn’t know how else to tell you that I liked your company.” You laughed, your eyes glistening as you watch In-Ho expose his vulnerability. “I love my wife,” he repeated, “but you, I have feelings for you. Feelings I never thought I would feel again. I don’t want to deny myself happiness anymore. My family isn’t coming back, but I would be a fool if I didn’t try and make the best of my life. I’d like to try doing that with you, if you want me.”

Taking a deep breath, you braced your hands on the table. Tears streamed down both of your faces, both of you finding the courage to take the next step. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with tears. “Yes, I’d like that.” In-Ho laughed, a sound that came from deep within his belly. He stood, pulling you from your chair and into his chest. He smelled of fresh shampoo and cologne, his breath warm on your face as you looked into other’s eyes. Brushing your lips against his, you couldn’t deny the electricity between you. it had been bubbling for so long, from the moment you had turned up soaking wet on his doorstep. Your lips met once more, harder this time, more sure of yourselves. His hands snaked up your shoulders, his fingers coming to rest on the back your next. You tasted like Merlot and shea butter, and In-Ho couldn’t deny himself anymore.

He made love to you on his sofa, your bodies pressed together on the tiny 2-seater. Every atom of his body burned for you, your moans spurring him on as he explored you. He’d spent so many nights wondering how it would feel to be inside you, but nothing compared to the reality. You were so soft, so warm, and you fit so perfectly against him. It was like you had been made just for him. He held you as the sun came up, his fingers tracing sweet, delicate circles over your nipples. You could taste yourself on his tongue, your body still tingling from the pleasure he’d inflicted. You didn’t want to part, didn’t want to head back to the emptiness of your apartment, but you had to get to work. “When can I see you again?” He asked, pulling you in for one last kiss. “Tonight?” you smiled, brushing the tip of your nose against his as you leaned further into his arms. “I’ll be counting down the minutes,” he whispered, watching you disappear into your apartment.

For the first time in over three years, In-Ho felt weightless. He whistled as he showered, hummed to the radio as he prepared breakfast. He’d taken a huge step last night, one he never thought he’d be ready for. He heart would always hold love for his wife and child, but now it had space for you too.

[mysunshinetemptress]

Smarter

Smarter insight 1 insight 2

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: Cheating, talks of IVF, definitely could have been better so might edit it later but here we go

You’re crying again, you didn’t think you could cry anymore but the tears running down your puffy red cheeks say otherwise.

It’s heartbreaking the sight of you curled up on your bed, wrapped around Leah who hasn’t cried since coming home from the check up.

It’s another fail in your IVF journey, you’ve failed again, you have failed Leah again but still she’s here comforting you.

She lays there with you wrapped around her until she thinks you’ve finally fallen asleep and then she tries to slip out, away from you, from your constant tears that she can’t take anymore m, she needs to get out and the best thing she can think to do is to go for a run.

Only you stir “Le, where-where are you going.” Leah freezes the floorboards creeking slightly “I-i just I need to go clear my head it’s-I just need to go for a run.” You want to ask her to come back to bed to stay with you, to tell her you will get through this together, that it’s better if you do but that’s selfish and you have been so, so selfish recently. “Ok.” You say quietly and with that small nod of approval from you Leah’s gone.

Leah doesn’t know how long she’s been running for when she first spots HER and for the first time all day her mind is void of you. SHES gorgeous, absolutely stunning and she’s running right towards her.

Leah doesn’t know what comes over her as she does a u turn to chase after the gorgeous girl that’s just smiled her but she finds herself running beside her, her eyes flicking between her and the path before SHE stops.

“Hi.” Leah stops her hands on her hips sucking in air “I’m sorry I just-I saw you and I thought wow and, and.” SHE laughs and before Leah knows it’s they are sat in the park cafe chatting and laughing, Leah doesn’t know what time it is and frankly she doesn’t care this is the first time in weeks she’s laughed and not had to deal with a crying wife.

Everything is so nice and easy until SHE questions why Leah was running g so fast. “I-I’m going through something, my-my wife and I are going through something.” SHE reaches over grabbing Leah’s hand stroking it softly “it’s ok I’m sure it will workout.” Leah shakes her head “I-I don’t know if it will, my wife she-she’s in the middle of IVF and it’s not working-it never seems to work.” SHE softens “That’s not your fault, you can’t do anything about it.” Leah shakes her head “But am I not an asshole for just leaving her-I mean she’s at home crying and I-I’m here.”

SHE shakes her head “You need comfort too, she’s actually being selfish not comforting you as well, I mean it’s hard for you too.”

The conversation continues and SHE continues to “comfort” Leah telling her it’s going to be ok, their hands don’t part even after the Cafe owner throws them out.

“My house is just across the street.” It’s all Leah needs to hear before she’s sitting at the kitchen another tea in hand as SHE flits around content on cooking.

Leah doesn’t know how or when it happened maybe after SHE brought a spoon to her lips begging her to try the sauce but suddenly they are kissing, and then suddenly Leah is pushing HER through the bedroom door.

Leah knows this is wrong as she strips, as she twists off her wedding band and throws it towards her cloths but SHE’S gorgeous, the voice the tiny small voice screams in the back of her mind as they push forward, it scream about you, how you are still there, still at home crying, but SHE’S not SHE’S not crying not seeking comfort and draining Leah’s every emotion, no SHE’S soft and her lips are plump and her breast are perfect and SHE’S not crying and begging to be held, SHE’S not begging to be told it’s going to be ok as another round of IVF fails.

SHE’S gorgeous and she’s all Leah can think about on the drive home, right until the moment she walks through the door and your body crashes into hers, as you wrap yourself around her whispering into her chest how much you missed her.

It should never of happened but it did, it should be a one time mistake but it wasn’t, she should never have left you but she did and now she’s lost you.

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Hey p here!! 👋🏻👋🏻 Merry Christmas (belated😅) and Happy New Year!!!! Miss you. I'm gonna quit my rambling now🤭

Could you do Toto Wolff with wife reader with their son, Jack celebrating Christmas together. Busying themselves during the winter break after all year of hard working and traveling around. Finding presents for each other, spending time with families and friends. Just fun stuff. Suggestive, fluff. Ask me anything you want to. Up to you. Thanks!!! :))

With prompts : "Don't act like you don't like it." & "You'd make a cute elf."

Here's a link to the pics of this story based. They're so cute!! 🥺 https://www.tumblr.com/f1archives/771048027944337408/toto-susie-wolff-at-christmas-via-susies?source=share

Credit to @f1archives

Love you❤️❤️

hii p heheh missed ya loads!! hope you like this

Last Christmas I Gave You My Heart

The Wolff family home is bathed in the soft, golden glow of Christmas lights. Outside, a blanket of snow covers the ground, and the air is crisp, filled with the scent of pine and wood smoke from the fireplace. Inside, the warmth of the fire flickers and crackles, the room a cozy sanctuary from the cold. The Christmas tree sparkles with twinkling lights, carefully hung ornaments, and a star perched proudly at the top.

You, Toto, and little Jack are fully immersed in the Christmas spirit. Jack, brimming with excitement, runs through the house, eagerly pulling you and Toto into the holiday fun.

“Mom, Dad! Can we decorate the tree now?” Jack’s voice rings out from the living room, his little hands clasped together in excitement. His eyes gleam with the energy only a child at Christmas can have.

Toto chuckles as he scoops Jack up into his arms, his strong arms cradling him with ease. “Of course, we can’t leave the tree looking bare now, can we?” he teases, his eyes twinkling with playful mischief.

You watch them with a smile, your heart swelling as you see Toto—always so serious in his professional life—become a playful, doting father. You know how hard he works, how many miles he travels, but moments like these, when he’s home with his family, are what ground him.

“I’m going to make this tree the best one ever!” Jack exclaims, his little voice full of determination as he runs to the ornaments. You and Toto follow behind him, laughing at his boundless enthusiasm.

As you move toward the tree, Toto walks up beside you, his arm casually brushing against yours. “I love how excited he gets for Christmas,” he murmurs softly, his voice low and full of affection. “And I love sharing this with you.”

You glance up at him, your heart fluttering slightly. “I love it too. It’s perfect,” you reply, your voice sincere.

Toto leans in just a little closer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You’re the perfect part of my Christmas.” His breath is warm against your skin, and you can’t help but feel the pull of his closeness. You try to concentrate on the ornaments, but his words linger in your mind, sending a flutter through your chest.

You reach for a delicate glass ornament, but before you can place it on the tree, Toto’s hand gently wraps around your wrist. His touch is gentle but firm, and you can’t help but shiver at the way his fingers brush against your skin. His voice drops to a low, teasing tone. “You’d make a beautiful elf, you know,” he murmurs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’d love to see you all dressed up with a little outfit, all wrapped in ribbons and bows.”

You raise an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful smile. “Oh? You think I could pull that off?” you ask, teasing him right back. “And what would you do with your elf once you caught her?”

Toto chuckles, the sound low and rich, sending a pleasant warmth through you. “I’d spoil her,” he replies with a wink, his hand sliding to your lower back, pulling you in just a little closer.

“Give her everything she wants.”

You lean in, just enough to make his heart race, but before either of you can take the teasing further, Jack calls out, “Mom! Dad! The star! The star! We need to put it on top!”

You both break into laughter, but Toto’s hand stays on your back, a quiet, intimate connection between you as you both move to place the star at the top of the tree. The soft click of the ornament in place feels like the perfect conclusion to the decorating. But the moment isn’t over. Toto leans in once more, his lips grazing your ear as he whispers with a playful grin, “Just wait, I’m not done with you yet.”

You glance at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I don’t think Santa’s going to approve of your behavior, Troger”.

He laughs softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Santa can mind his business,” he says with a wink, his voice laced with playful heat. “I’ve been very good this year… as long as you’ve been good, too.”

You smile up at him, your fingers lightly tracing the edge of his jawline. “I’ve been good,” you tease, stepping closer to him until the distance between you is almost nonexistent. The warmth of his body radiates against yours, and you feel the gentle hum of affection between you both.

Before anything else can happen, Jack bounds back into the room, interrupting your moment. “Mom! Dad! It’s cookie time!” he exclaims, eyes wide with excitement as he drags a tray of freshly baked cookies into the room.

Toto chuckles, his hand on your back once more as he watches Jack’s enthusiasm. “Looks like we’re going to need all the energy we can get if we’re going to finish celebrating this Christmas,” he says, his voice playful, as he helps Jack set the cookies down on the table.

You grin, slipping your hand into Toto’s as the three of you enjoy the sweet treats together. You feel the warmth of the moment, the closeness, and the joy of spending time as a family. The love you share is palpable, a soft, steady rhythm that feels like everything you’ve ever wanted.

The night continues to wind down in the Wolff household, the soft glow of the Christmas tree illuminating the room as the fire crackles in the hearth. The house is quiet now, the only sound the occasional snap from the flames and the soft hum of the holiday music playing in the background.

Toto’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder, his thumb brushing small, soothing circles across your skin as you sit together on the couch. You’re tucked close into his side, your head resting on his chest, the steady beat of his heart comforting and steady. Every now and then, you glance up at him, catching the soft, affectionate look in his eyes as he watches you, his gaze warm and full of love.

The night feels perfect. Jack’s already asleep in his room, his soft breaths barely audible from the hallway. The house feels peaceful, calm—filled with the kind of love that can only come from the warmth of family. This year had been a whirlwind, but in moments like these, surrounded by the people who mean everything to you, all the chaos of the outside world fades away.

Toto leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gentle kiss. “I meant what I said,” he murmurs softly. “This… this Christmas with you and Jack… it’s everything I could have ever hoped for.”

You smile up at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I feel the same way,” you reply quietly. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

Toto’s eyes soften, his hand lifting to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. His gaze moves from your eyes to your lips, and there’s an undeniable pull between you both. The warmth of the room, the quiet intimacy, it all builds up to this moment.

“You make my world better,” he whispers, his voice low and husky. “You and Jack… you both make everything worth it.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the depth of his words sinking in, before opening them again to meet his gaze. “And you make everything feel safe,” you respond softly. “Even on the hardest days.”

Toto leans in, his lips brushing gently against yours in a tender kiss that speaks of everything you’ve shared and all the moments still to come. The kiss is slow and lingering, sweet with the promise of many more quiet nights like this, full of love and shared dreams. When you pull away, both of you are smiling softly, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.

“Do you know what else I love about Christmas?” Toto asks, his voice playful but sincere.

You raise an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. “What’s that?”

He leans closer, his lips hovering near your ear as he whispers, “The way you make everything feel like magic.” His breath is warm against your skin, sending a soft shiver through you. “You have this way of turning ordinary moments into something special.”

You chuckle softly, your fingers tracing his jawline. “I think you’re the one who makes everything magical,” you reply, your voice full of affection. “You and your teasing.”

Toto grins, his hand sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer as he gives you that charming smile you’ve always loved. “Well, I’ll keep teasing you then, if it means I get to see that beautiful smile on your face,” he says, his voice low and filled with adoration.

You can’t help but laugh, your hand resting on his chest. “You’ve certainly got your work cut out for you, Mr. Wolff,” you tease, though the affection in your voice makes it clear you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying the presence of each other. The fire crackles, and the Christmas tree sparkles in the background, casting soft reflections on the walls.

Eventually, you rise from the couch, holding your hand out to Toto. “Come on,” you say softly,

“Let’s go check on Jack. Make sure he’s really asleep.”

Toto chuckles, standing up and taking your hand. As you both walk down the hallway to Jack’s room, the peace of the night wraps around you both like a blanket. The soft glow from the hallway light spills into Jack’s room, where you both peer inside to find him tucked in tight, his little hands clutching his favorite teddy bear.

You smile down at him, feeling a sense of deep gratitude and contentment wash over you. “He’s perfect,” you whisper, your heart full as you watch him sleep.

Toto stands behind you, his hand resting on your shoulder. “So are you,” he says softly, his voice filled with warmth. “You make everything feel perfect.”

You turn around to face him, your eyes meeting his once more. In that moment, with the quiet hum of the world around you, you know that this is exactly where you’re meant to be—surrounded by love, laughter, and the warmth of family.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, Toto,” you whisper against his mouth, the words full of meaning and affection.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he replies, his voice tender as his arms wrap around you once more, pulling you close.

As you stand there, in his arms, you feel everything—how much you’ve both given to each other, the life you’ve built together, and the future still to come. The world outside may be cold, but inside, there’s nothing but warmth, love, and the soft promise of many more Christmases spent like this—together, with your little family.

[portals-posts]

Lost cause

Wife!Ambessa Medarda x Fem!Reader

A/n: Making this cause noone else will😡 also "reader" is lowkey sensitive in this(same)

Summary: Y/n slowly realises her Wife isnt 'playing' how she says she is and is hurting her in the process

Its late at night when Y/n realises that her wife, the almighty, Ambessa Medarda, isnt in bed with her. And after a short amount of contemplating, she decided to go looking for her knowin she wont be back in bed for awhile.

After walk around in the cold and empty halls, she finally heard her faint voice, coming from a near room. Opening the semi-heavy door. "Bessa, Why dont you come back to bed?" She asked fidgiting with the edge of her midlegth nightgown, interuping her talk with one of the new Noxian "warriors/spies", Maddie Nolen. "I need to finish up somethings" Her thick accent replied. "Cant you finish it in the morning, tomorrow?" Y/n asked taking a few steps closer with a soft timid voice. "No, it must be finished now." Ambessa firmly said, fixing up the heavy pieces of her 'uniform'. "Mrs. Medarda, Let me take you back to your room." Maddie offered. "Oh n-no its fine-", "Yes take her back." Ambessa interupped,motioning Nolen toward Y/n. "O-okay" She lowly replied, taking Maddies arm and heading to the door and back to the room.

The next day, she knew Ambessa would act like nothing last night happened and expected Y/n to do the same. "You've looked like you've seen a ghost, my love" Ambessa said leaning against the dark colored doorway of their bedroon. "I've just been.. thinking" Y/n replied, turning back to fix up the rest of their shared bed. "About what, darling?" She questioned, pushing herself off the doorway before closing the doors behind her. "Just.." Y/n said with a small pause, sitting on the freshly made bed. "Don't you think that maybe were going to fast with this whole 'war' thing?" She asked playing with her fingers. "No, and there's no reason you should be worrying about any of that" Ambessa explained, sitting next to her, before moving a loose strand of hair out of her pouting face. "B-but I am" She replied in a low whisper, "I just think we s-should leave Kirraman out of this, I- I mean she just lost her mother and-" "All the more helpful she can be" Her wife interupped her, taking her smaller hands in hers. "Yea- but- I just feel bad, using her and her grief like this." Y/n explained with a anxious studder attached, as she rose off the bed. "I feel really bad" she finally said breaking into tears. "Kirraman will find Jinx, and do what she pleases." Ambessa's accent fills the room as she rises from the satin sheets of the bed, almost hovering over her wifes tearful face. "And what happends, happends, it just matters how it gets done." Ambessa explains in her usual riddle like speaking,before headout the door of their shared bedroom, leaving her wife all alone, thinking if this is the right way to really do this.

A/n: Sorry this came out a bit later than i intended. I trying my best abd I will def do a 2nd part to both ambessa and caitlyn🤭🫣

Finished: 1:09 (1/5/2025🎇)

[lillaydee]

Uncoupled - April

Roommate! Joel Miller / Reader

Two people leaving their marriages ended up going through the mandatory one year separation together before filing for divorce.

Nothing could possibly happen in a year, right?

WARNINGS: Alternate Universe - No Cordyceps Outbreak (The Last of Us), Ellie & Joel Bonding (The Last of Us), Good Parent Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), No age gap, Roommate Joel, Teacher Joel, Handyman Joel, Insecure Joel, Minor Character Death, Grief/Mourning.

SERIES MASTER LIST

March

---

Joel stood by the maternity ward window, his nephew in his arms. He was besotted. He knew from that first moment he saw Jackson that he would do anything for that little boy. Tommy looked like a different man. There was a bounce to his steps, a puff in his chest, Joel thought. He looked happy, content and terrified all at the same time.

You were hugging Maria for the fifth time since you got there, so happy for this new friend you’d only met less than a year ago but had become someone so near and dear to your heart.

“So, let me get this straight,” Joel whispered, worried he would wake his brand new nephew, who was sleeping contentedly in his arms. “You didn’t call me when your wife went into labour? She must’ve been in labour for hours before you called me.”

“Yeah, she started having contractions yesterday afternoon. But her water only broke this morning,” Tommy told his big brother, both their eyes still on little Jackson. “Not like you could help make the labour go faster. Ten hours passed before he came out.”

Jackson started fussing, squirming in his uncle’s strong arms, before early signs of an uncomfortable cry began.

“Maybe he wants to feed,” Maria said, “Lil, can you?”

Joel passed Jackson to you. The little boy immediately stopped squirming, stretching a little before snuggling in your arms, one of his eyes opened, staring at you, the other still closed.

“He winked at me!” you whispered excitedly.

“He likes his Auntie Lily…” Maria cooed as you held her son next to her bed. She looked exhausted.

You rocked your body side to side, humming a little tune you used to hum to Ellie when you were holding her in Annie’s hospital room back when she was just born. Oh, you loved him already. You couldn’t help the coos and awws that escaped your mouth as you studied the little man’s face, finger caressing his little cheek.

Joel couldn’t take his eyes off you. Now that he knew you were not against going out on dates with him, he couldn’t stop planning. Sure, seeing you with Ellie was one thing, but you with a baby…

“You know, if you want one of those with her, you need to let her know how you feel about her first,” his Mama’s voice interrupted his thoughts.

He turned around to see if you were watching, you were not; still fixated on little Jackson. “I did, Mama,” he told her. Anita smiled, looking extremely satisfied. “We’re going on a date next weekend.”

“Glad to know,” she said, giving her son a small nudge with her shoulder.

**********

When you and Joel got home that night, both of you were exhausted. You had been out the entire day. After a quick but much needed shower, you changed into your PJs and joined Joel in the living room, already in his own sleepwear, channel surfing.

Unlike the other nights before, you sat right up next to him this time, wanting the warmth of his body on yours, and he didn’t protest, wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pulling you in to snuggle up to him, fingers lazily tracing your arm up and down.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he asked if he could ask you something.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me asking you out?”

You nodded. “Can I ask you something now?”

He nodded.

“How long have you wanted to ask me out?”

He didn’t know, exactly, he said. But he knew he liked you, that he was comfortable with you, that he imagined you and Ellie to be his family, all that.  He realized that he liked you, liked you, for sure around Christmas, feeling extremely disappointed that you didn’t want to kiss him, and fell deeper for you since. But when Benny came, he was so scared that he had lost his chance of asking you out forever, so he’d been practicing asking you out since then.

“So Ellie was not kidding?”

“No, I didn’t even realize she was in the kitchen, really. I wouldn’t have said anything out loud if I had known.”

You laughed. But needed to ask, “Why me? I mean, I don’t look like Jen, like Lucy, and you… I mean, have you seen you? You could have anyone. Why me?”

He looked to be thinking for a while, before asking you a question. “You said you would’ve said yes if I had asked you out, right? Do you… like me, like me?”

You bit your lower lips, closed one eye and cringed to yourself before nodding, so worried that he would laugh at you, that everything he’d been telling you was a joke, a dream, your imagination.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Like I said, you’re used to being with Jen. And you have Lucy running after you. Even that Diana lady looked like one of the housewives on Wisteria Lane, I don’t look like them.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. You looked at your hand, worried about he might say next. “You’re a lot more beautiful than they will ever be. You’re gorgeous in my eyes, Williams,” he continued, caressing your face with his fingers.

“Why didn’t you ask me out sooner?”

“Because you kept telling me you were not ready to date. And because I’m an idiot. And a chickenshit.”

You were about to laugh, but caught his expression, a self-doubting one. He took a deep breath.

“Also, I’m no Max. I can’t give you the things he used to give you, the things he’s still giving you,” he said, defeated.

“You talking about the purse?”

He nodded. “I can’t afford that purse ever, how could I compete with him? I’m just a teacher who sometimes work part-time with my brother for fun. And even that, since I moved in with you, with Ellie, I would rather spend my time at home with you guys on my days off.”

He was no longer looking you in the eyes, suddenly becoming extremely interested in his own feet.

You took his face in your hands, making him look at you.

“Have you ever seen me use that purse?”

“No, but I figured…”

“Nope, I was never gonna use that purse.”

“But…”

“I accepted it because it’s valuable, I was gonna sell it to buy stuff for the house. Flooring. Hardwood flooring. I hate these carpets.”

He looked at you in bewilderment. What?

“I never cared about his money. I just wanted him. The old him. The one who knew I would never use that purse. It’s garish, loud, blingy. He buys them because me wearing them makes him look good. I don’t care about that. I like you, simply because you’re you. You make time for us, you spend time with us. Honestly that’s all I want in a relationship. That, and fidelity. And he used to give me those, until money became his main focus. And of course, Jen.”

You looked so sad he pulled you back into his arms, rubbing your back, comforting you until you calmed down. Without letting you go, he told you about Jen and her ‘beauty’. How much money she spent to look like that, and every time she came home looking more beautiful, more confident, the more cruel and callous she became, and he found his love for her died a little each time, for one more thing he used to love about her had disappeared along with whatever she had surgically fixed.

“So, while I think you are stunning, I do not find Jen or Lucy beautiful at all. They hold no candle to you.”

“So, we’ve both been insecure for nothing?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Both of you laughed at yourselves, before going back to a comfortable silence, just holding on to each other.

When he walked you to your bedroom that night, he gave you a lingering peck on the cheek. You had both decided neither of you were quite ready for anything physical – nothing more than whatever you were doing in the living room. Plus, it’s all so new. You had just confessed your feelings to one another. And more to the point, you each had only been with one person in your lives. Let’s not jump the gun. The fact that you were still married to someone else was just an added excuse to hold your horses for a while. And a five year old was coming back to live with you the next day. You needed to be responsible here.  

So yeah. A peck on the cheek and a few snuggles here and there were enough.

For now.

**********

The two of you spent Sunday planting your purchase in the backyard, spending time side by side, giving each other hugs and innocent kisses on the cheek, blushing every time one would look at the other. You felt as if you were back in high school, crushing on the handsome boy in the next class. You found excuses to be by each other’s side all the while you were working, just laughing with each other, teasing each other, making stupid jokes and mindless chit chats.

You had a slightly late dinner by the firepit, shoulders touching, reminiscing about the times you had spent in the garden. You told him about your talk with Eddie right there, how you found out you had been named Ellie’s guardian, and how he passed just a week later. Involuntary tears fell – you remembered that conversation as if it was yesterday, you remembered him promising you he wouldn’t leave.

Joel pulled you in for a side hug, kissing your temple, letting you cry for a while. He kept kissing your head, telling it’s okay, you can cry. You did a great job with Ellie, by the way, Eddie was right choosing you. Ellie’s a great kid.

He kept holding you until you stopped crying.

“You should let me mow the lawn one of these days, I should learn.”

He laughed. “Hey, you remember when you tried to mow the lawn that day I moved in?”

“Yeah?” You pouted, a little red in the face at the memory, feeling so stupid.

“I thought you were the most adorable person I have ever met then, so determined, so sure you were right. If I had known you longer, I would’ve kissed your pout away right there and then,” he said, one hand caressing your face, the other still around your shoulder, half eaten bowls of pasta lining the firepit, forgotten for now.

“Really?”

He nodded, eyes flickering to your lips really quickly, hand still caressing your face. He looked you in the eye again, checking for any signs of protests from you, lowering his lips, wanting to meld them to yours, your hearts beating so fast you didn’t hear anything but your own heartbeats in your ears.

BANG!

You and Joel separated as if the firepit had jumped between the two of you.

“Beans! We’re back! Oh…”

“Shit,” Frank was standing outside the kitchen door, hands on Ellie’s ears so she wouldn’t hear him swear. “We interrupted a near fucking kiss, didn’t we?”

“Fuck yeah, we did!” she chimed in, a little too loudly.

“Ellie! Language!”

**********

The next week became almost impossible to go through. The anticipation of the first date, along with the will to stay away from one another despite desperately wanting to spend some time together nearly killed you and Joel. Ellie was more than accommodating, let’s just say, but she was inadvertently making it worse, announcing her arrival into any place you and Joel might be alone with such a loud voice despite you being there alone, closing her eyes, bumping into things when she realized both of you were indeed, in the same room. She had so many bruises you were starting to worry Mrs Adler was going to report you and Joel for abuse.

It doesn’t help that this discovery that your feelings for each other were not one-sided was opening up other… feelings… one you may have been a bit too shy to explore before. Before long, you found yourself reaching into the locked drawer in your closet, taking out and dusting the loyal old friend you had – the one that used to keep you company those lonely nights Max ignored you or was out, again.

Thing was, the house you shared with Max was considerably larger than this one, and the layout was different – the guest bedroom you occupied was at the other end of the house to the master, where Max was. And, he had absolutely no reason to come to your part of the house, so you weren’t worried anyone would hear any… buzzing.

The first time you turned that loyal friend of yours in this house, though, the noise your loyal friend made shocked the living shit out of you. No way, there was no way Joel or Ellie couldn’t hear that. Your room shared a wall with both of theirs, and their bed was pressed up directly to those walls you shared. So, you reluctantly put your faithful old friend away and had to resort to your fingers instead, careful to bury yourself under the safety of your blanket, a pillow over your face in case you started moaning a bit too loudly. Just as you were starting to get into it, you heard a door open, followed by a soft knock on your door, Ellie opening it almost immediately, dancing a little, desperate for the bathroom.

Thank God you decided against your old friend.

But there was no way you were going to try that again anytime soon.

Of course, you didn’t tell Joel any of this, especially since you were so mortified by the thought that he might hear you… taking care of yourself like that. Truth was, Joel wouldn’t have noticed. He was in a dilemma of his own. He couldn’t sleep, that night Jackson was born. He had spent the entire night with you all snuggled up to him, and you had confessed your feelings for him, letting him know his insecurity was not something he should be insecure about, not when it came to you. He had your warm body pressed up all over him, your hair all over his face, the smell of you, your little moans and laughs as you got comfy snuggling up to him, the way your fingers ran all over his chest and biceps.

Fuck… he was in hell.

He tried to go to sleep but couldn’t. So, he reached into his pants, wrapping his fingers around himself to help with… tension relief, biting his own lips so that he wouldn’t accidentally moan your name out loud. He fisted himself a few times, testing the water, spat in his own palm before stroking himself more deliberately, eyes closed in ecstasy. Just as he got to a place where he needed to stroke faster, his fucking bed creaked. The stupid, white princess bed fucking creaked. Oh so loudly. He stilled, keeping an ear out for any signs that you might have heard that, but there were none.

And by the time the panic dissipated from his chest, any desire he had to take care of his needs had gone.

It happened again the next morning, when he was in the shower. He thought, Ellie was not home, you were in the backyard, he could take care of himself really quickly. So he did, under the cover of the strong water pressure of the shower, determined not to make so much noise. But when he came, he was overcome by how good it felt - it had been a while - and the mental images of you kneeling before him was too much to bear. Before he knew it, your name came out of his mouth, and he was grabbing the shower curtain so hard he ripped it off the rods.

Your panicked banging on the door put an end to any remnants of an erection he might have left, asking him if everything was alright. You heard him call your name. Did he injure himself? Joel?

“Uh, I’m okay. I nearly slipped. But managed to catch the shower curtain. I need to replace it. Sorry,” he said, red in the face, hoping to God you believed his excuse.

Thankfully, you did, but that was how it went that week. The two of you kept thinking how the heck were you going to handle being… intimate… when the time came, without scarring Ellie any further than she already was.

**********

Friday came. You and Joel were going out to dinner that night. Tess had agreed to take Ellie for the weekend. So you and Joel would have the house all to yourself that weekend. Andy had even agreed to send Ellie straight to school Monday. To say you were looking forward to this weekend was an understatement.

They screamed when you told them you were going out on a date with Joel. All of them, even Bill came and hugged you. All the secret plotting they’d been doing to get you and Joel together came out then. You couldn’t believe the lengths these people went through, just to get you to go out on a date with RPH.

Although he was never RPH to you. He was Joel. The sweetest man who had ever lived. You scolded Maria for not letting Tommy tell you and Joel her water broke, but she simply shrugged and said you being there won’t make Jackson come any faster. And you should buy her flowers for doing that, otherwise that ‘date’ wouldn’t have happened.

Frank surprised you with the news that Ellie was the one who called him and asked if she could stay with him and Bill that weekend, telling him Joel had asked you out, and for him to think of an excuse. Obviously, they were never at his sister’s. If Frank hadn’t been available, Tess was planning to pretend to take Ellie to the ranch for the birth of a foal that hadn’t been born yet.

You called Benny to yell at him when you found out his role in this whole elaborate planning, only for him to swerve you and claimed he was about to get on a plane – although it sounded suspiciously like a beach where he was.

You were definitely touched that they all wanted you and Joel to get together so much. And yes, you were looking forward to the date.

Until noon, when the school called you, telling you that Ellie had been injured. You were all the way across town delivering a cake, Tess was alone at the bakery, Bill was working, Andy was showing a house, and Frank was with you. You left the car with Frank, jumping on the train to get to her sooner since google told you that it would take you almost two hours to get to her. You called Joel crying, begging him to go get Ellie and take her to the hospital.

When you got to the emergency room, Ellie was sleeping in Joel’s arms, her face stained from tears. She had chased a kitten into the parking lot, and the kitten had run under a car. She reached under the car to get it, catching the hot exhaust with her forearm, rendering her a small second degree burn. The three of you were in the ER the whole night, arriving home at 4am Saturday morning, where you helped Ellie change into her PJs and laid her on your bed. Joel kissed her goodnight, getting up to leave, only for Ellie to stop him.

Of course, he relented, changing into his PJs before joining the two of you in bed.

As the three of you laid in bed, Ellie sleeping between the two of you, you whispered to him that you might want to postpone the date a bit, make sure Ellie was fully recovered before you would feel comfortable leaving her with anyone else. He fully agreed, of course, the sweet man that he was.

But Ellie heard and began to apologize for getting hurt on your big date night. I’m so sorry Beans, I’m sorry Joel, I didn’t mean to get hurt.

“Hey, it’s okay, Bells, we’re not angry at you. We’re just happy you’re alright.”

“But I spoiled your date.”

“Nothing is spoiled, we’ll just go another day. Nothing is more important than you, BabyGirl. We promise. Sleep, okay?” Joel, coaxed, before humming the song she sang at the concert for her.

As you watched Joel coax your little girl to sleep, if it’s at all possible, you fell just a little bit harder for him. He loved her, it didn’t take an expert to see that.

“Does this mean we have to cancel my birthday?”

“No, we’re not cancelling your birthday. We have to make sure your arm is really okay though, so you be good and keep the bandage dry and let me or Joel clean it every day, okay?”

She nodded, a small okay escaping her lips, before finally, finally, falling asleep again.

You placed your hand on her belly, shivering slightly at the thought of how much worse the burn could’ve gotten if she had reached further. As if able to read your mind, Joel placed his hand on yours, squeezing it slightly, telling you she’ll be okay, although you could tell he was just as petrified as you were back in the ER, if not more. He had to look away when the doctor was treating her burn, although he let her bury her face in his side as the doctor did so, his hand squeezing your own as she cried into his torso.

When you wake up the next morning, you were once again alone with Joel, Ellie already up, lying on her belly on the love seat in your room, colouring something. Unlike before, you didn’t try to escape, and when Joel opened his eyes, he just pulled you closer to him, and both of you fell back into an easy sleep.

**********

A little under two weeks after the incident, you and Joel stumbled into your home with boxes upon boxes of birthday presents for Ellie, the little girl running into her room with extra large colouring set Bill and Frank had gotten her. God, you never knew how difficult it was to make sure 15 five-year-olds didn’t maim themselves or each other. Even with the help of Mrs Adler, Anita, Tess and Andy, you were outnumbered. Joel got lucky, he was only there for the final hour, having his own work and classes to tend to. Even so, he was knackered, having to round up three boys who were convinced there was a chicken lose in Ellie’s classroom before the birthday party ended. Anita was helping with the leftovers, all put away in Tupperware containers, separating some to take home to Tommy and Maria, themselves knackered in their own rights. Tess came in with the last of the presents, Andy coming in and going straight to Ellie’s room.

As you and Joel finished putting the presents in a corner for Ellie to decide where to keep them, the house suddenly got quiet, and the two of you realized that the front door had been shut. Joel went to the window to see Anita with several bags of leftovers, Tess with Ellie’s suitcase and Andy with Ellie over her shoulder, running to the car as dramatically as they could, the little girl giggling in glee.

“What’s going on?” Joel shouted after them, wrenching the front door open.

“Have fun!!!” Andy yelled, shoving Ellie into her car, quickly going in herself before peeling away as if they were in some bad mafia film.

“Wow. Really?” Joel asked you, disbelief in his face. “What’s with the elaborate kidnapping? Not as if we wouldn’t have let her go.”

“Actually, Tess asked if they could take Ellie to the ranch – that horse she was taking care of gave birth and they promised her they would let her name it. I said no, though.”

“Why?”

“Her burn…”

“The doctor okayed it, remember? She doesn’t even need her bandages anymore.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay,” you said one final time before taking a deep breath, willing yourself not to cry.

“Why don’t you go take a shower? I’ll clean up.”

When you came out, Joel had put everything away and was in the shower himself. You were trying to figure out which leftover to have for dinner when he came out, asking you if you’d like to have a picnic with him by the firepit for dinner that day.

“We have all the party food, we have cake, great picnic food. We can call it an unofficial date, what do you say?” he coaxed, pulling you into his arm, getting droplets of water from his hair all over your arms as you involuntarily wrapped them around his neck.

“Okay,” you said, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. Aside from your hugs and snuggling on the couch and in bed, this might be the most intimate you had ever been with him. You took his towel from around his neck and gently helped dry his hair better, his eyes closing at the sensation, suddenly brought back to the time you ran your fingers on his scalp.

When he opened his eyes, you were staring right into his own. You dropped his towel on the kitchen counter, combing your fingers through his hair, scratching his head lightly.

He slowly, deliberately, took two slow steps forwards, until your back touched the kitchen island, his arms caging you in, and bent his head, softly capturing your lips with his own, sealing your first kiss together.

---

May

[1caru]

My time has come >:)

Disclaimer: I'm gonna ramble about Twilight Princess Link, but we aren't gonna touch the manga because the manga is wrong about him and I am right :)

Every detail of Link's story and character in this game is tied so deeply to the concept of twilight, of limbo, of the space between places and times and the powers that rule the land and it drives me utterly insane with how good it is. Even at the very beginning of the game, before Midna and the twilight and the adventure, Link exists in this middle space. His house stands alone in the path between his village of Ordon and the kingdom of Hyrule, perhaps a symbol of his possible role as village guard. He has a close bond to Ordon, of course. The villagers all love and respect him; Rusl, Uli, and Colin in particular seem to act as Link's adoptive family. They've likely cared for him since he was quite young, judging by the drawing they keep pinned to the wall of their house.

Now, for the longest time, I assumed that Colin drew this picture, since the taller kid here has the same bowlcut he does. However, if you look closely, that kid has another detail that Colin doesn't. In fact, there is only one person in Ordon who has this detail.

That taller kid has Link's pointed ears.

(Fun fact, this also means that Link canonically had a bowlcut as a kid, so all that art you may have seen of baby Ordon Link is wrong XD)

Anyway, I don't know about you, but a single Hylian boy living in a treehouse in a village of non-Hylians in the southern woods of Hyrule sounds awfully familiar, doesn't it? This is a surprise tool that will hurt us later :)

Link himself doesn't seem to be bothered by the differences between him and the other Ordonians. In fact, some official sources tell us that he is next in line for the position of mayor once Bo retires. He clearly feels right at home here, content to spend his days working alongside the adults and playing with the kids. He, of course, does not quite fit into either of these age groups. Always in the middle. Never quite belonging. But still, Ordon is home.

Ordon is home, at least, until the twilight strikes. In one afternoon, Link has his family stolen from him by King Bulblin, he is taken captive by shadow beasts, he is forcibly and painfully transformed into a wolf, and Midna recruits him to help her take on Zant. And then, when he finally manages to return to Ordon, still trapped in his wolf form, Midna tells him to find a sword and shield for her. Your only option for accomplishing this is to steal from your family.

So Link sneaks into Ordon under the cover of night. Every villager he comes across, every friend and mentor, either runs from him or attacks him. His adoptive father, Rusl, doesn't see Link in the light of the torch he wields. He only sees a wolf. He only sees a monster.

(Ready for another fun fact? There are unused animations in the game for Rusl falling down after being attacked. At some point in development, Nintendo wanted you to leap at Rusl and steal the Ordon sword directly off of him instead of sneaking into his house to get it. In the final game, you can later find Rusl lying injured on the couch in his living room with his wife Uli caring for him. She says he was attacked by "monsters". Imagine seeing that and knowing exactly who did that to him.)

Later, when you return to Ordon in human form in order to get the iron boots from the mayor, you have the option to also tell the villagers that you have found their kids safe and sound in Kakariko Village. They are overjoyed at the news, and thank you profusely for telling them and for working to protect said kids. For a moment, it's as if things have gone back to how they used to be. Everyone looks at you with happiness and love, not fear and hatred. Then, you speak to Uli. Like the others, she thanks you for giving her the news about the kids. But, when you turn to leave, as you reach for the doorknob, she says one last thing.

You never get to tell her the truth. Perhaps Link can't bring himself to do so.

From this point on, a wedge has been driven between Link and Ordon. You don't notice it very often. Link still fights primarily to save the kidnapped Ordonian children. He is still shown to enjoy spending time with everyone in the village. He is devastated to learn of Ilia's amnesia, and he works hard to restore her memories. At the same time, however, he is on a journey with Midna. A journey full of both wonders and dangers that the Ordonians could not understand. He grows closer to Midna and decides to fight for her kingdom as well as Hyrule and Ordon. Perhaps the history of the Twili and their banishment from Hyrule resonates with him now. Outcasts, just like him.

He also meets the Hero's Shade, Ganondorf, the Light Spirits, and Zelda. Each of these characters represents Hyrule and the destiny that Link was literally born for. But the Hero's Shade and Ganondorf are from a time long passed, an old conflict that far predates Link. Even the Light Spirits and Zelda, while they belong to the same time period that Link does, are still linked to the past (heh) either by lifespan or bloodline. Link is left disconnected from even his own destiny.

At the end of the game, after he has saved not just the Ordonian kids but also all of Hyrule and the Twilight Realm, where do we find Link? Where does he end up? We don't know. He does return to Ordon for a little while along with the kids, but then he dons his hero's clothes again and leaves without telling anyone (except possibly Ilia). We don't know where he is headed. The last we ever see of Link is him riding off into Faron Woods.

Every time I see this, I think about the beginning of Majora's Mask. Is this Link also off to search for a way to reunite with his lost companion? Will he end up meeting a terrible fate just like his ancestor, or will he end up finding happiness instead? We never find out, but I love that after everything Link has gone through, after he fails to find true belonging in Ordon, Hyrule, or the Twilight Realm, after finding no home in either the past or the present, his choice is to pursue the future. I like to think he finally found a home somewhere.

Okay Link fans I need help. I have my Link/Zelda game that I’m specifically fixated on (that being Wind/Wind Waker), but I want to be able to write/understand other Links with the same amount of care that I give to him.

So if anyone who sees this post has a Link who is their favorite little guy (you’ve played his game(s) multiple times, you’ve made a bunch of headcanons about him, you think about him all the time, etc etc), I want to hear your perspective on that Link. I wanna know what you think his general personality is. I wanna know what you think he was like pre-journey(s). I wanna know how you think his journey(s) affected his development. I wanna know how you think the themes of his game(s) intertwine with his character. I wanna know how you view his significant relationships. And I wanna know anything else about him that you would like to share. Any information/ideas are appreciated, just absolutely go off ^_^

[hopefulidiocy]

Writers block..? SAME! I’ve had this idea for WEEKS and just never write it lol.

So imagine there’s this like legend of The Great Targaryen (reader) who lived before Rhanerya and them and she was called The Great Targaryen because she commanded like 4 dragons instead of one. (kinda like Daenerys)

So maybe she was like so powerful or whatnot a witch (idk if they rly had those back then but like, there’s dragons so bare with me lol) cast her to sleep, saying she’ll only awake in 100 years OR SOMETHING IDK YET.

But anyways, team black realizes that if they want to win they’ll need her or something so they go looking.

The find her asleep in a cave off the coast somewhere and somehow she wakes up (haven’t rly gotten there yet) and they’re all like woahhhh but she has no dragons?

They get to the top of the cliff and she kinda just faces out towards the ocean and stands there, everyone is confused. She raises her arms like A GODDESS and BOOM flying out of the ocean is DRAGONS!!!

Idk it’s a really weird concept but I had a dream like that and that’s where this came from lol.

Watcha think???

The Dragon Tamer

House of the Dragon x OC!Female!Character

Warnings: mentions of child loss, death, destruction and disease.

Characters that are my own: Efflestead the Warrior, Alina the Dragon Tamer/Demon Queen, Jocelyn the Great

A/N: I have never written something like this before and I looooved doing it <3 part two?

MINORS DNI 18+

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉🐉

Many tales graced the darkened walls of Westeros. They flew, invisibly, through the air as folk songs or poems; they were words, spoken from generation to generation. Efflestead’s siege on the North, battling it to great victory until all that was left was rubble and dirt and dead bodies. He was celebrated, a day commemorated to him and how he savagely killed thousands of innocents for being in his war path to the Iron Throne. He was crowned on the 10th of the Third Month, creating catastrophe and violence in his stead. But no one remembers that part. They don’t remember how he killed his way to the top, tortured those who dared to whisper in the corners of every house, how he employed spies who could’ve well been your father or brother and they would let loose their secrets and you’d be on the Wall within the hour. Most people remember him as Efflestead the Warrior King, a family man with fifteen children of his own, all just as ghastly as he was, a man of great honour - being with his wife for more than 40 years, but everyone forgot he had mistresses and often beat his wife to the point she lost more than five children. No, people forget the bad parts because they want a story they can be proud of. Efflestead’s children went on to become monarchs, Heiron being the first and rather boring King, contracting Green Fever before the Winter. Jocelyn became Queen after he died, she was a beauty, to all accounts of people who knew her but, of course, when she was murdered in the comfort of her own bed; her own brother, Aegon, was the one who distributed horrific lies and propaganda. She was a witch and bewitched a plague amongst the Smallfolk with her sixth finger and long, hanging nose that drooped over her upper lip. No one remembers that she was kind and generous to the Smallfolk, no one remembers that she cared for the health of her people and sought to change all of it.

History and myth are not kind to those who actually do good, they would rather remember those with an intriguing story that they can pick apart and leave out the bad bits.

There was one though, no recollection in any chronicle of history, no written records, just a song. Sung in the streets of the Red Keep.

A dragon descended upon the River;

His claws long and his mind clever;

A woman with eyes so black;

Came onto the shore with a crack;

She said, “Who hath come to fight?”;

When one man stepped forth, she cackled to the night;

“Is that all you have?” And so she unleashed her fury onto the innocence;

Letting them have her anguish and misguidance;

Four wild beasts arose from the dark;

Fire, blood and fury from their violent arc;

She tried, as she must, to fight with her life;

But the Smallfolk were full of strife;

They killed her with one switch of a blade;

And off her head rolled in the shade;

They rejoiced and called out;

“At last, the Demon Queen is dead! And so she will be forever at rest!”

Of course, the Smallfolk only knew the lines to a wretched song that kids would learn as they grew up in the parks and the bakeries. They would be told the Demon Queen will have you for supper! If they forbade any law. But, of course, the Demon Queen was more than a ruthless woman. First of all, she had a name… Alina Targaryen. Born to the bastard grandson of Efflestead. She was known to be a beauty, long white hair always in a braided crown, dresses that puffed around her and always glided along with her. She was kind, generous and full of wit. Many men wanted to have a slice of her, but she never allowed it, she kept herself neat and tidy for any man that would marry her.

She never did marry.

Instead found her love elsewhere. With multicoloured eggs that she grew with affection and suddenly… she was the most powerful woman in Westeros.

Being so powerful, she became a target. A target for war, for assassination, for love and temptation. But she hid out in the caves, away from human life and settled with her dragons. The song got one thing right, she did tame four dragons, she loyally loved each dragon.

Fate is a funny thing. It is what’s meant for you, even if it’s not what you want. Alina didn’t want to sleep for one hundred years, she was completely oblivious to it until the day came when the waves crashed harshly against the cave, the dragons looked at her with perplexity and so, being the brave soul she was, she opted to explore on foot. The grey waves curled up into the sky with every crash against the rock, she clung to the edge as she watched spurts of water form a woman, no eyes and no mouth, just a plain black face with wispy hair like a witch. Alone and cold, the witch whispered under her breath that sent Alina into a sleep, never to be heard from again. Until Westeros went to shit.

Around the Queens’ table at Dragonstone, Daemon sat with his elbows propped up, chewing onto his fingernails as Rhaenyra stood, stoic and strangely calm whilst Rhaeyna spoke of the dangerous plans the Greens have for Dragonstone.

“He will surely arrive with Vhagar, even with the three dragons we have cannot take her on. We all know that.” She said, sitting straight. Daemon looked up at her worried face before switching to Rhaenyra’s face, she was deep in thought, Jace behind her, pacing up and down.

“Jace, stop. I can’t think right now.” Daemon ordered, but Jace didn’t stop. He rarely answered to his step father, he was deep in thought like the rest of the room. A hanging shadow was hanging over Dragonstone with Aemond’s threat to burn it to the ground. The Blacks may have the Dragon Queen but the Gods themselves couldn’t defend Dragonstone against Vhagar.

“You know…” Jace trailed off, Daemon looked at him disinterested. Rhaenyra turned her head slightly towards him, as he thought of his next words.

“What is it, Jace?” Rhaenyra spoke, slightly impatient.

“Alina Targaryen.” He said. Everyone exchanged glances, some confused, some surprised. They hadn’t heard that name in ages and perhaps some people had never heard it before.

“She’s been dead for 130 years.” Daemon said, matter of fact.

There had been a grumbling amongst the smallfolk, something was occurring and no one had the answer and it was something bigger than Aemond and Vhagar. The grumbling was like something was rising, coming alive and word on the street was Alina was planning to come back to slay all the sinners. She had not yet made an appearance.

“The prophecy. There was a prophecy.” Jace pointed out even though he couldn’t remember the full details of said prophecy.

“Yes. They said Alina was to die amongst her dragons, safe within the caves in the North, to protect the eggs of the future but if she was to come alive we would have to gain dragon fire.” Rhaenyra said impatiently, crossing her arms and not looking at her son. “It could never work, Jace.”

Later that night, Jace awoke in his bed from a fitful dream of Vhagar tearing his home to shreds and he knew he had to do something about it. The prophecy of Alina Targaryen was difficult but it was not impossible. Many people at the time did not own dragons or their dragons weren’t used for warfare, just simple fun, so of course the prophecy would be hard. He wrapped a warm robe around his body, keeping the cold chill at bay, thinking over his plans as his bare feet slapped against the stone flooring. His mind was on Alina, the beautiful blonde that was etched into law scriptures, there had even been an execution method in her style for those less fortunate: partially burned by dragon fire and then strangled over several days. It was a gruesome way to end and many people had been subjected to it.

Vermax was asleep when Jace entered the Dragon Pit, he watched him for a while before whistling to awaken him. Vermax was always grumpy when he woke up but actively being woke up was a whole new level of grumpy so Jace was in for a long, long night. In High Velarian, he told Vermax of the old prophecy, of the High and Mighty Alina Targaryen who could help them from being torn into pieces.

Deep within the breathing caves, Alina was still, flat on her back on a spacious rock table; her hands clasped at her stomach, still in her riding gear; her peach coloured mouth relaxed into a soft line; her halo hair scattered around her like a wave as Jace began commanding Vermax’s fire, miles away from the caves. The walls began to move, shaking ever so slightly at every will Jace gave to his dragon and with that push, Alina began to rouse. Not awaking properly, her eyes hadn’t opened but her toes squeezed against her leather sandals as Vermax breathed his hot rage into a vat of iron; quickly, Jace covered the top, burning himself but keeping the fire closed within the jar. He could’ve sworn Vermax rolled his eyes when he thanked him and ran off.

Rhaenyra hardly slept. It wasn’t uncommon. There was much to think about. She was sat at her desk, rifling through some parchments when her eldest son came battling through the door; evidently struggling with his barrel.

“What in the Seven Gods have you got there?” Rhaenyra asked, standing up.

“It’s a vat of fire, Lady Mother. For the prophecy.” He was so unfit.

“The prophecy won’t work, Jace. Don’t be a fool and fall for it. Alina was killed by a Sea Devil. It is in the history books.” She batted her hand away and sat down, not wishing to listen to him.

“Mother, when I was commanding Vermax, it felt like something awoke within me. I could feel this cold chill run right through me, I’m telling you, I don’t think this prophecy is fake.”

“You felt the cold chill because it’s midnight and it’s cold and you’re wearing nothing. Go to bed. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.” Defeated, Jace dragged his vat of fire back to his room.

Defeated by his mother he may be. But something happened and it was unmistakable. So when day broke, he climbed onto the back of Vermax and rode off into the North.

The cave was located amongst a rocky terrain, hidden behind a jagged rock that had dried blood, possibly Alina’s, coated over the tips. The waves crashed against the rocks as Vermax flew onto the hanging cliff, denying to put himself and his rider in danger on the rocks. Jace sighed, noticing the jagged rock, his vat of fire on his back as he slowly, incredibly slowly, bum shuffled down onto a flat rock just to the side of the cave, trying to find a different way to enter but the gap between the rocks was too small, even though he was a particularly skinny young man, he could not fit between them. So he had to go around, the wind whipped around his hair, flowing it into all directions as he clutched onto the sharp edge of the jagged rock, cutting diagonally across his palm as he hauled himself onto a small foot cove when his toes fit perfectly. The waves crashed against him, throwing him into the rock at full speed, cutting the side of his face. He groaned into the cup of his hand, trying to keep his composure as the pain seared through him. Once the waves had ceased for just a moment, adrenaline shot through him and he jumped from the foot cove onto the flat surface at the entrance of the cave.

There was a few spots of water, deep enough to drown in, due to the land shifting over the century she had been dead. At first it was dark, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of his face but slowly a light was forming in front of him. Two fawn columns created an archway where a beam of yellow light flooded onto a flat rock, washing over the body of a still woman who was wiggling her toes and small groans escaping her pursed mouth.

“Alina.” He whispered, running towards the rock and finding a beautiful woman, forever twenty three in front of him. The Great Dragon Tamer. Alina Targaryen. He opened the vat ever so slowly, wondering what would happen if the fire was to consume her surroundings, whether she would come to life again. The fire cascaded up and above, touching stalactites and flowing over, somehow it did not touch Alina or Jace and he watched as the Dragon Tamer twitched her eyes. He knelt down beside her, watching her intently as her pale grey eyes opened and took in the fire above her.

The prophecy had worked. The second Alina saw Jace, she shot to her feet, her hand on the sword attached to her leather belt.

“Who are you?” She asked, her voice rough after a century of non speaking.

“I’m Jace… Jace Velarion.” He stumbled across his words, straightening to his feet. Her face was thunderous, her lips straight and almost snarling as she took him in.

“You work at sea.” She spat. “Have you come to kill me once and for all, Jace Velarion?” She unsheathed her sword, the glinting point at his face.

“No, it’s not like that.” He cleared his throat. “I am the son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen. I have come to ask for help.” Her sword lowered ever so gently as she inquired him with her eyes, narrowing them and looking him up and down.

“A Targaryen Queen? You must be a bastard. Where’s your white hair?” She was vaguely amused by this. In normal circumstances, Jace would not be able to control his anger and although he could feel it bubbling, he didn’t want to say anything; this moment couldn’t be ruined.

“We are under threat. It’s complicated but Queen Rhaenyra is technically Queen of Dragonstone but she is the rightful Queen of Westeros, in the Red Keep. But her younger half brother plotted against her, the Hightowers, and now he is on the throne and there’s a threat Vhagar and his bastard rider will detonate us all. We need you.”

“The Hightowers.” She spat, tucking her sword back into her sheath. “I’ve always hated them.” She slapped her thighs, she was incredibly masculine, and drove herself to the entrance of the cave. Jace watched in awe as she screamed in Old Valyrian, something he couldn’t understand himself and saw four dragons rise from the rocks. They had been disguised for 130 years as these jagged rocks, the ones that Jace cut himself on, they roared and they were ten times bigger than Vermax. The wind blew in at a high speed when Alina turned around, a mischievous glint in her eye and the first smile he had seen.

“Are you ready, Prince Jace?”

[alwaysmicado]

Callisto II - Update

Believe it or not, but after months of zero inspiration, I've written 2k words for it today 🥹. Feels great. I've also finally settled on the overall mood of this part and I think you're going to like it. There's still no end in sight, BUT I'm not dreading this fic anymore. That's a start.

Thank you for your patience & your wonderful DMs about the story & for sticking around! 🤍 Please accept this random snippet as a token of my undying love for you all (it's long lol):

[You’re in the elevator with your neighbor. He’s older and a sleaze bag. You have a soft spot for him.]

You press the lobby button again even though it’s already lit. “You okay? I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

His smirk twitches, revealing something almost vulnerable. Almost. “You miss me?”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Ethan. Just wanna know if I need to go back and get the Narcan.”

That earns a chuckle, hoarse and dry, but it’s something. “Relax. I’m fine. Just a rough week.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask. “‘Cause you look like you’re coming off a bender.”

“You’re worried about me,” he says, leaning closer, his grin faint but there. “Admit it.”

“I’m not worried,” you snap, but your tone lacks conviction. “It’s just… dude, you look like hammered shit. When’s the last time you even slept?”

He tries for a shrug, though it’s more like a slump against the cold metal wall. “Tuesday, maybe Wednesday? Hard to keep track.”

“It’s Friday,” you point out, your voice softer now. “You need to get your shit together.”

He leans his head back against the elevator wall, exhaling so hard you almost feel it. For a moment, you think he might actually tell you what’s going on, but then his eyes flick to your hand, and his brow creases in concern. “What happened there?”

You glance at the wrist brace, flexing your fingers instinctively. “Nothing. Just a stupid accident.”

“Stupid accident,” Ethan repeats, his voice softening just enough to catch you off guard. “You get in a fight or something?”

“No,” you say quickly, but his raised eyebrow confirms he doesn’t believe you. “It’s nothing. Don’t start.”

“Hm.” He looks you up and down, like he’s waiting for you to crack. “You wanna come over later and hang out? I got a movie lined up.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, Buffalo ‘66?”

“If that’s what you’re into.” He snorts, sounding more like himself. “Shoulda told me sooner. You know how I live to please.”

You can’t help a half-smile, but no. Not going there. You clear your throat. “How’s your wife, Ethan?”

“She’s good, she’s good,” he sighs, casual as always. “Travelling, hitting the slopes, spending my money, getting her back blown out by some college kid. You know, the regular.”

You scoff. “Not gonna lie, that sounds pretty good. And all she has to do is stay married to you?”

He arches a brow. “You proposing, sweetheart?”

“Nah, I’d be a terrible trophy wife. I’d torch your suits the first time I found your secretary’s lipstick on your shirt. And key your dumb car. And step on your balls.”

“Keep talking dirty to me like that and I’ll drive us straight to the courthouse, baby,” he drawls, a little more life in his voice. 

You roll your eyes but your lips twitch into a reluctant smile. “You always know how to cheer me up, you know that?”

He tilts his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You nod and furrow your brow. “It’s funny, I talk to you for a minute and I realize that maybe my dumpster fire of a life isn’t that bad. Like, it could be worse.”

He gives a dry chuckle. “You’re welcome, I guess.” He notices your injured hand again, concern flickering across his tired features. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” you say exasperatedly. “Never been better.”

He eyes you carefully, his expression unexpectedly gentle. “You’re too young to have that look on your face.”

You bristle. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about life being far too short to spend it being unhappy,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. “Trust me.”

“Like I’m gonna take advice from you,” you say, crossing your arms as your pulse does that weird stutter.

Ethan offers a vague smile, and a muscle in his jaw tightens beneath the bruise. “I’m not saying you should,” he murmurs. “Just wish someone had told me that a long time ago, that’s all.”

Series Masterlist • Main Masterlist • Inbox • AO3

Let me know if you want to be tagged! ♡

[galaxysupreme17]

Summer Goodbyes and New Beginnings

Y/n = Your Name

AgathaRio x daughter!reader

The announcement that Y/n was heading to camp for the summer came over a breakfast of scrambled eggs and toast. The smell of fresh coffee mingled with the clatter of plates, the comfortable chaos of a weekend morning in the Harkness-Vidal household.

“Time to start packing for camp!” Y/n said brightly, taking a sip of her juice.

Rio paused mid-bite, her fork hovering in the air. “Camp?”

Agatha chuckled from across the table, her mug of coffee resting delicately between her hands. “You’ve heard about camp. The big event that’s been her summer highlight since she was nine?”

“Yeah, but I thought it was, like, a week-long thing. Not… a major expedition,” Rio replied, glancing at Y/n for clarification.

“Used to be a week,” Y/n confirmed, her tone almost proud. “Then I started going for the full month in eighth grade. Once I became a counselor, though…” She trailed off with a dramatic flourish. “All. Summer.”

Rio’s eyebrows shot up. “All summer?”

“All summer,” Y/n echoed, smiling mischievously. “It’s the best thing ever, Mami. You’d love it if you saw it.”

Rio’s face betrayed her skepticism. “So, let me get this straight. You’re telling me that after I just got my daughter back, I must hand her over to the wilderness for two months?”

Y/n laughed, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement. “I promise I’ll call when I can. You won’t even notice I’m gone.”

“Oh, I’ll notice,” Rio muttered, shaking her head. She glanced at Agatha, who wore a knowing smile. “And you’re okay with this?”

Agatha leaned back in her chair, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. “Oh, cariña, I’m never okay with it. But it’s her tradition, her independence. We’ve been doing this for years.”

Rio sighed, leaning forward and resting her chin in her palm. “Years. Plural. Wow. What other secrets are hiding in this house?”

Y/n smirked. “You’ll learn all of them in time, Mami. It’s a process.”

By mid-morning, Y/n was knee-deep in her room, sorting through her belongings and ticking off a list of supplies. Agatha joined her, expertly folding clothes while Y/n debated the merits of various items.

“This hoodie has been with me for three summers. It’s like… an artifact now,” Y/n said, holding up a faded blue sweatshirt with a small hole in the sleeve.

Agatha smiled. “Then it’s a keeper.”

Rio lingered in the doorway, observing the easy rhythm between her wife and daughter. “Need any help?” she offered, stepping into the room cautiously.

Y/n glanced at Agatha, then back at Rio. “You can help decide which of these should go,” she said, pointing to a pile of water bottles and mugs on the bed.

Rio picked up a neon green bottle, examining it with exaggerated seriousness. “This one looks indestructible. Is that important?”

Y/n grinned. “It is when you’re hiking, and the nearest sink is miles away.”

As they worked, Rio gradually became more involved, helping to stuff socks into corners of the duffle bag, rolling up T-shirts, and handing over items Agatha requested. The room buzzed with laughter and teasing, but underneath it all, Rio felt the ache of impending separation.

That night, after Y/n had gone to bed, Rio found Agatha seated on the couch with a glass of wine in the living room. The house was quiet, except for the refrigerator's soft hum and the occasional creak of floorboards.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Rio asked, sitting down beside her wife.

Agatha smiled faintly, swirling her wine. “Just thinking about how much she’s grown. It feels like just yesterday she was packing her bag for her first week at camp, and now she’s leaving for two months.”

Rio nodded, her hand resting lightly on Agatha’s. “I don’t know how you do it, Agatha. You seem so calm about all of this.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, a small laugh escaping her lips. “Calm? Is that what I seem?”

“Well, yeah,” Rio said, shrugging. “You’re here baking cookies, helping her pack… You’re handling it like a pro.”

Agatha set her glass down and leaned back, her expression softening. “It’s not calm, my love. It’s survival. If I stop to think about her leaving—really think about it—I’ll fall apart. And there’s no time for that right now. It’s too soon.”

Rio frowned. “Too soon?”

Agatha’s voice wavered slightly as she continued. “Too soon to cry, too soon to miss her. I have to focus on the details and keep my hands busy. That’s how I get through it.”

Rio reached over, tucking a stray strand of hair behind Agatha’s ear. “You’re a better woman than me. I’d be sobbing into her duffle bag by now.”

Agatha chuckled softly, leaning into Rio’s touch. “Oh, I’ll get there. Just… not yet.”

The morning Y/n was set to leave, the air felt heavier. The final bags were loaded into the car, and the kitchen buzzed with last-minute preparations. Y/n hugged Agatha tightly, whispering something that made her mother smile even as her eyes glistened with unshed tears.

Then she turned to Rio, wrapping her arms around her stepmother. “Don’t worry, Mami. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Rio hugged her tightly, her voice thick with emotion. “You better be. Who else is going to help me keep your mother in line?”

Y/n laughed, pulling back and flashing one last grin before climbing into the car. As the vehicle disappeared down the driveway, the house felt suddenly achingly quiet.

Later that evening, Rio found Agatha standing by the kitchen window, gazing at the fading sunlight. Her shoulders were stiff, and when Rio stepped closer, she noticed the faint shimmer of tears on her wife’s cheeks.

“Hey,” Rio said softly, wrapping her arms around Agatha from behind. “You okay?”

Agatha exhaled shakily, leaning back against Rio. “It’s too quiet already.”

Rio pressed a kiss to the back of Agatha's head, her voice light with affection. “Geez, Agatha. I know you’re stuck with me for the summer, but you could at least pretend to be happy about it.”

Agatha let out a watery laugh, swatting at Rio’s arm. “You’re incorrigible.”

“And you love it,” Rio replied, grinning as she turned Agatha around to face her.

They stood there momentarily, their foreheads touching, the weight of the day slowly lifting. “We’ll get through this,” Rio murmured. “Together.”

Agatha nodded, her smile returning. “Together.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, they held onto each other. The house became quieter but filled with the warmth of their love—a love strong enough to weather any separation, no matter how long the summer might feel.

[burningembers91]

Loving You From Afar - Park Gyeong-Seok x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Park Gyeong-Seok is in love with you. But his life isn't one he thinks you'd want to share. If only he opened his eyes, he might realise that you loved him too.

Warnings: depictions of cancer, Park Gyeong-Seok's daughter is sick, Reader and Gyong-Seok are lovesick fools, 18+only!

The past few years hadn’t been easy for Park Gyeong-Seok. His marriage to who he thought was the love of his life, and the subsequent birth of his beautiful baby girl should have been a turning point in his life. But sadly, fate had other plans. Na-Yeon had been born prematurely, the doctors uncertain whether she would make it through the night. But his daughter, she was one hell of a fighter, and she pulled through. It hadn’t been plain sailing, her early birth leaving her sickly and frail. Gyeong-Seok never lost hope, he never gave up on the tiny life he cradled to sleep every night. His wife on the other hand, she found it hard to cope. Being a mother wasn’t what she thought it would be, and she wasn’t equipped to deal with a child who needed round the clock care. A few months after Na-Yeon was born, her mother left in the middle of the night. Gyeong-Seok had spent months trying to track her down, but she didn’t want to be found.  

 His dream of opening his own art studio came to screeching halt, and he found himself taking any and every job he could to keep his daughter fed and sheltered. He eventually found himself at an amusement park, painting tourists for less than the price of a cup of coffee. It wasn’t a well-paying job, but Na-Yeon loved spending every day there, watching the characters in their costumes, laughing as they paraded through the park. Her health was in decline again, cancer ravaging her already broken body. But she was so strong, so happy, and that was what kept Gyeong-Seok going. When he could no longer afford their two-bedroom apartment, he moved to a smaller one-bedroom place, giving his daughter the bedroom while he made do with the sofa bed.

That was where he’d met you; the beautiful girl who lived across the hall. The one Na-Yeon spoke of all day every day. you were the one who made him laugh on the days he felt like crying, who took Na-Yeon out for ice cream when he needed a rest or bought her colouring books and toys when he was struggling to keep her entertained. You had such a way with his daughter, and your presence was one that calmed him immediately. It was you who had crocheted the strawberry hat his little girl never took off, something to keep her warm when the chemo took her hair. If you didn’t enjoy looking after Na-Yeon, you never complained. You always had a smile on your face, always had a positive word for him.

He'd fallen hopelessly in love with you over the last eight months, but you would never want to be with him. He could barely afford to keep a roof over his daughter’s head. he couldn’t take you out on dates, or buy you jewellery, or whisk you on a weekend away. Na-Yeon’s treatment took every penny he earned, and there were nights when he couldn’t afford to feed the both of them, so he went hungry. He never asked you for anything, never complained, and yet you seemed to sense his desperation. You’d bring food round every now and again, enough to last them a few days. He would never be able to find a way to repay you for your kindness, would never be able to articulate just how much you meant to him.

He's drawn and painted you probably a dozen times, but he could never get the courage up to give you any of his creations. Your beauty couldn’t compare to his artwork, your kindness could never fully shine through on the paper. Some nights, you’d sit together in his apartment, Na-Yeon sleeping in the bedroom next door. Your fingers would graze each other’s as you watched TV, your knees would bump together under the blanket you cozied under for warmth. You’d smile at him, and he’d smile back, but it never went further than that. You deserved someone who could buy you nice things, who could take you places Gyeong-Seok would only ever be able to dream of.  

The paintings of you stayed tucked out of sight, just like his feelings for you. there were nights he’d lie on the tiny sofa bed, the springs digging into his back, and he’d think about you. He wondered how it would feel to be able to love you, to be able to cuddle up next to you each night, not on a broken sofa bed, but in a plush King size bed with silk sheets. He wondered if his pillows would smell like your perfume, whether you’d smile when he woke you up every morning with a kiss. He wondered if Na-Yeon would grow up to think of you as her mother, turning to you for advice about hair, boys and other things dads didn’t have the privilege of knowing about.  

No one wanted a poor painter though, who had holes in his clothes and a daughter who needed constant care. He didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want to make your life hard. You were so kind, so caring, and so full of life. He would be content loving you from afar, relishing the friendship you gave him and his daughter.

You wished Gyeong-Seok could see how amazing he was. He was a man broken by circumstances beyond his control, dealt a shitty hand of cards by life. you’d loved him from the moment you met him, carrying his daughter to the apartment across the hall from you as she giggled. He worked so hard to provide for them and you wished you could do more to help. You didn’t want to seem like you were pitying him, because you weren’t. life may have kicked him, but Gyeong-Seok wouldn’t stay down. He was the strongest, most resilient person you’d ever met, and you loved both him and Na-Yeon more than anything in the world. The nights you spent with him, watching TV under the blanket were so precious to you. you thought there might have been something between the two you of, but Gyeong-Seok would only ever smile, and turn his face away. you would be content to love him from afar and cherish every moment you spent with him.

You watched him now, painting a picture of the Seoul skyline while you crocheted a matching strawberry sweater for Na-Yeon, who was fast asleep beside you. You met each other’s eyes, the two of you smiling. Not realising just how much you meant to each other.

[calypso-apologist]

could i pls have headcanons of yandere Antinous x princess of Ithaca/daughter of Pen n Ody reader 🙏🙏🙏

antinous oh antinous the things i'd do to you

Yandere!Antinous x Princess of Ithaca!Reader ♡

cw: mdni. nsfw mentions. non-con/dub-con implied. yandere. antinous starter pack: manipulation and questionable consent. murder. pregnancy. non-descriptive birth. i have issues.

The queen was a stubborn wretch, refusing to pick a new king. She believed Odysseus was still out there, that he'd come back. Antinous might not be a chosen of Athena, but he's not a fool, either. He knows she's stalling.

And while other suitors insist on trying to get to Penelope somehow, Antinous figured that there might be an easier way to secure his place in the royal family.

After all, Telemachus wasn't necessarily the only choice for the king. There was also his twin sister. Odysseus never named his heir, so it could be either of the twins.

Or rather, the son or the daughter's husband. So why not become just that?

And while at first it was just about the throne, the more he watched you, the more he followed you around... the more he started to crave you.

The need to possess you was no longer just his desire for just the throne, no... he wanted you.

He wanted the princess of Ithaca to be his. He wanted to tear her dress to shreds, to see her naked body shaking and she whimpered and squirmed under him in bed. He wanted to see pretty tears running down her soft cheeks, maybe even watch her struggle a bit as she tried to keep her dignity at first, before surrendering to him.

And even if she tried to fight, tried to get him to leave... He could simply hold her down, could he not?

But, since she seemed like such a sweet young thing, he decided to play it safe. After all, if she falls for him genuinely, it'll all be so much easier.

Besides, with young, kind souls like hers, it really didn't even take that much effort. Antinous was a charismatic bastard. And the princess was innocent, lacking experience when it came to romance.

Of course, there was hesitance at first, but all it took was a sad little act about how he let himself get lost in his ambition and the young princess immediately looked at him with a more merciful, understanding gaze.

With that, obtaining her friendship and affections was just a matter of time and charm. Say what you want about Antinous, but he could be one charming motherfucker if he so wished.

He didn't even need three months before sneaking into your bedroom at sunset, his words wrapping around your heart and brain like constricting snakes around their victims.

And despite how hesitant the princess was about giving up her precious innocence, she really didn't need much convincing. She loved him, after all, and he loved her. She shouldn't overthink things, she should simply give herself to him, let him ravage her.

Did it really matter that it hurt? It was supposed to, she was a smart girl, she should know that. She should trust him. Love him. He loved her, after all, he kept whispering so into her ears as she sobbed softly, her whole body trembling from the rough yet oddly delicate treatment. It seemed to be something only he could do, to violate her so lovingly.

And of course, he couldn't just stop after the first time, no... He had to visit her each night, fill her up, make sure his seed would take, binding the two of them forever.

Once the pregnancy was confirmed, he was quick to rid the palace of all the other suitors, one by one, before he finally asked Penelope for her daughter's hand in marriage, bringing the shared "love" to attention and saying he even made all the others leave to prove himself.

And even despite how hesitant the queen was, she gave in to how much the princess insisted.

And for the first few months, he seemed like a dream husband, always by his wife's side, helping her through the pregnancy, willing to make every wish come true, not even a flash of irritation on his face despite how ridiculous the princess's whims might've been.

But when the faithful day came, he was late. By the time he finally appeared, the mother of his child was too vulnerable to question the blood on his hands as he cradled her face, offering hushed reassurances before the room was filled with the sound of a newborn baby crying as it was forced to greet the world, torn out of its mother's womb.

The princess only found out why her husband was late and bloody a few days later, as Antinous was crowned king. He used the chaos that surrounded the birth to kill Penelope and Telemachus. Fortunately for him, his precious wife was too far gone in his manipulations to even try to rebel against him. Instead, she remained by his side, forever faithful with his firstborn in her arms.

And she'll have more. His previous little queen.