#I always have loved women from 100 years ago

[st3rrycat]

My inspo for my hair

[yeonjunsvape]

fuck buddy : mingyu smut

genre: smut

w/c: 3.1k

warnings: dom!mingyu, sub!reader, female reader, sex toys, throat fucking, edging, dry humping, name calling

a/n: i hope you enjoy!! make sure to like and follow 🙏🏻 my requests are open, send me anything!

there's quite a big weight that immediately lifts off your shoulders when your boyfriend and you finally call it quits after contemplating the past few days on your future with each other. there was no malice or hatred between you and him, you've just grown apart through the years.

the two of you lived together, so now you were currently moving out, into your best friends apartment and starting anew. "thank you for letting me stay, i have money saved up so i'll pay half the rent every month," you hug your friend and she pulls back a little. "don't worry about rent, just cook for me and i'll be fine."

you finish packing the last of your things at your now ex-boyfriends house and look around the room you shared years of love together. you let out a deep sigh, leave the house, and put your key under the mat. 

your bestfriend and you go to her apartment, quickly unpacking your items in her spare room, and you plop on her couch when you're finished. "we should go out tonight and meet cute boys," she suggests and you start giggling, shaking your head. "i just ended a 3 year relationship 2 days ago, i'm not looking for another one right now." 

your friend wraps her arms around you, always being this touchy with everyone, so you were used to it. "i'm not saying get in a relationship right away, you need a 'slut phase', it's healthy after breaking up with someone," she huffs, pulling away from your body so she could cross her arms, "i'd actually prefer sleeping around rather than be in a relationship." 

you hum and think on it. the last time you've had sex was months ago due to your schedules being different and your ex never having the time for you, which was one of the reasons for the breakup. 

"okay, but instead of going out, can we have a girls night with our other friends and just scroll through tinder or something?" you pout, not really wanting to socialize with anyone right now. she nods and texts in your friends' group chat, 'slumber party at our apartment, bring snacks.'

during the sleepover, you scroll through tinder not being particularly impressed by anyone so far, but you continue and try to be less picky.

after hours of scrolling, you only found a few that was up to par with your type and one of your friends gasp loudly, making everyone turn their head. “im so stupid!! if you want to experience new things instead of vanilla sex, you should see mingyu!” your best friend claps her hands and grabs your shoulders, “you NEED to visit mingyu, i should’ve suggested it before.”

all the girls seem to know who he is, but you are looking around like a lost puppy, being the only one not knowing the name. “i’ll pay for your first night with him, don’t worry.” one of the other friends say, typing on her phone.

“wait wait wait… who the hell is mingyu?” you finally ask and there is a blush on all of their faces.

“he beds bored women and knows a women’s body better than they do.”

“he’s so sexy.”

“i’ve spent thousands on him when i need to feel something.”

you nod and get quite intimidated at the thought of sleeping with someone besides your ex. “well, what does he look like?” you whisper out and when the phone is turned to you, of his face, your breathe stops for a minute.

your heart was beating fast and hands are clammy just looking at his picture. “how much do you have to pay?” you ask and your friends look at each other. “$100 an hour, $1,000 to spend the night, and a $50 an hour fee for a phone call.” your mouth goes wide and look at them to see if they were pranking you, but their faces showed no indication of joking.

“that’s far too expensive..” you mumble and your best friend shakes her head, “it’s worth it, i promise.” you just simply shrug and your other friend sets up a date for next week, paying the fee.

the nervousness that you felt in your stomach all week only heightened as you walk to the address of mingyu. he said to be there at 5:00 pm but you were running a little late, hopefully he didn’t mind.

at 5:25 pm exactly you follow the instructions that your friend gave you, typing a code on mingyu’s apartment security system. a loud buzzer noise was heard and the door unlocks for you, entering the extravagant apartment.

you walk down a hallway, looking around for the man your friends keep raving about, and finally see a figure sitting in a chair, cross legged.

“mingyu? sorry i’m late-�� before you could finish your sentence, the man cuts you off, “it’s mr. mingyu or mr. kim, and you are late, which i don’t like.” he sternly speaks, making your body get chills. “s-sorry..” you whimper out, walking closer to him.

the room was dark and you can’t even see his face, just his body in a suit. he switches on a lamp next to him, looking your body up and down. “you’re forgiven, after all this is your first time to see me. if you do it again you’re going to be punished, got it?” mingyu asks, but you were curious on what kind of punishment he was talking about. “got it?” he again asks, more persistently this time and you nod.

mingyu sighs and stands up from the chair, walking closer to you until you hit the wall behind you. he puts a hand on the wall aggressively next to your head, and the other tracing your cheek skin with his thumb. “you’re quite pretty darling… i wonder why you came to see me.”

a puddle of wetness was soon forming in your panties at his hand touching your skin, he seemed to know how to handle your body even though he’s only touched your cheek so far. “i just broke up with someone, needed more experience.” you mutter out and mingyu hums, leaning down to kiss your cheek where he was rubbing.

“it says you’re open to anything sexually on your invoice, so i’m going to assume there’s no rules?” he asks looking at his phone and you shake your head, “no sir.” when mingyu hears the name his lip curls, still looking at your invoice. “we have 3 hours together, let’s have some fun.”

you were so nervous about what he was about to do to you but it was also thrilling, the only sex you’ve ever known was missionary and it only lasted 5 minutes maximum.

mingyu walks the both of you to his bed where he had a plethora of toys on a side table next to the bed, making you gulp. “lay down pet, i’ll take good care of you.” his voice was so low it made your skin cover with goosebumps.

“i am very kinky, i pride myself on being able to make a woman cum on command. i don’t like kissing on the lips or using my dick, so everything i do to you will be from my fingers, mouth, or the various toys.” mingyu introduces and you nod, finding it weird he won’t be having actual sex with you.

“if it’s too much for you, we can have a safe word if you’d like, i usually go with grapefruit.” mingyu continued and you just nod again, “that’s fine.”

you watch as the man walks to your side of the bed, managing to take off your shirt and also unclip your bra at the same time, taking both of the pieces off skillfully. you were astonished at his fingers and he sees you looking impressed, chuckling to himself.

you were now left in panties and skirt, squeezing your thighs together gently at the puddle still building in your underwear. mingyu grabs your boobs in his hands, giving them a big squeeze, your body jolting at his roughness.

he leans in to give your neck kisses while he lifts up your skirt, letting your panties be visible to him. mingyu teases you by trailing a finger down your body, dragging it painfully slow, past your belly button and to the top of your pantie line.

his pace never fastens as he enters his long fingers inside your panties, his middle finger rubbing slow circles around your clit. the noise you made when he touched you was foreign, never feeling something so pleasurable.

you hear a low chuckle come from his mouth when you moan and squirm in his arms so he would give you more. “be patient baby girl.” mingyu murmured in your ear, sending chills down your back. “i’ll take my time with you.”

you restlessly lay while he rubs your clit with two fingers now, building speed with every circle he does over your bean.

your body jerks and moans slip out, bucking your hips gently. “damn, how needy are you?” mingyu teases, dragging a finger down your folds, “you’re so wet Y/N.” you moan, biting down hard on your lip when he enters a finger inside your tight pussy.

“take off the rest of your clothes, i want to play with you.” he commands, standing to pick up a few toys off his table.

you look over as you were undressing, seeing him holding a vibrator, dildo, and handcuffs. you gulp down the knot stuck in your throat, nervous for what was about to come.

“lay spread eagle, im going to cuff you.” you nod and do as instructed, your arms and legs spreading wide for him. he tightens the cuffs around your limbs, giving your clit a kiss once he’s done and grabs the vibrator.

mingyu turns it on low, dragging it up and down your pussy, making your body already spasm. the movements of the feeling of it rest on your clit was so erotic, you’ve never owned one and you didn’t know it felt this good.

“why are you holding your moans? tell me how good i make you feel.” he whispers, looking up at you through his eyelashes and you nod, letting the breathe you didn’t know you were holding, out. you never dirty talked before or had it done to you so it made you shy when you hear his voice.

“i’m going to use this next,” mingyu states, holding up the biggest dildo you’ve ever seen. you gulp again, the girth was bigger than your forearm and you stutter, “i-is that going to fit in me?” he chuckles at your innocence and nods, giving your pussy a hard slap, making you moan loud. “it’ll fit perfectly.”

you relax and look down at him rubbing your juices on the tip, teasing your hole before sliding the dildo in you. the vibrator was still buzzing on your clit when he did this and you instantly cum without meaning to. you let out the biggest yell of the night, gripping the headboard under your restriced wrists.

mingyu smirks to himself, knowing you just came, and pushes the dildo further inside you. he didn’t expect to let you leave here with just one orgasm.

you became more comfortable with moaning, yelling his name at times and he gives your clit a slap every time you didn’t say “mr. mingyu.”

he finally enters the dildo inside you fully, sitting up so he could roughly thrust it in and out of you, never missing your soft spot with every move. “f-fuck, i’m cumming again.” you yell out, arching your back.

he took this as a chance to tease you, pulling the dildo out of you quickly, seeing your hole tighten when he removed the toy. he also pulls the vibrator off your clit then stands to uncuff you, watching you pant and shake from the pleasure.

mingyu stands above you, picking you up and positioning you to doggy style, engulfing your pussy in his mouth. “you taste so sweet, best pussy i’ve ever eaten.” he was being truthful whether you knew it or not, he enjoyed tasting you on his tongue.

there was a strange feeling in his pants he’s never felt with any of his other dates, he was growing a hard on by your moans. “can you please stick a finger in?” you ask pitifully, turning around to look at him with a dirty smirk he hasn’t seen yet.

mingyu clears his throat and adjusts his pants, trying to get any kind of pressure on his dick he could. “say the magic word.” he gets back in his character, teasing your hole with his finger but not entering it until you say please.

you continue to look at him and push your ass backwards so his finger enters, he was stunned but it was so hot. you continue to move your ass and fuck his finger, not needing his help.

mingyu pulls his finger away and stands up, pressing his bulge to your ass, giving you a hard slap. he slowly grinds against you which he’s never done before, giving you two more slaps, making your ass red.

“you seem hard sir, do you think you should slide your big dick inside me?” you ask, already knowing he didn’t fuck his clients.

mingyu pulls his hips away, throwing you on your back so he can see your face. “you’re such a slut.” he groans, lifting your legs up as high as they could go. “you want me to fuck you this badly?” he asks looking down at your wetness leaking on his sheets.

“yes i want you to fill me up sir.” you whimper, grabbing your sensitive boobs in your hands, squeezing on them hard. even you were surprised by your actions but he uncovered a secret freak inside you didn’t know was there.

mingyu hesitates before unbuckling his belt, there was something about you that made him want to feel your walls around him. even if girls before begged, he never fucked them.

“come to the end of the bed and suck my dick.” he commands and you crawl to his standing body, helping him take off his pants. “i’ve never done this before, so you have to teach me.” you smirk, gripping his big dick his your small hand.

when mingyu hears this he takes your hand that was wrapped around him, spitting on it, “jerk.” you nod, getting more wet at the feeling of his spit on you.

your hand goes up and down on his dick, jerking with a hard grip on him. without being asked, you lean down and spit on his tip, mixing his precum with your spit, going back to jerk him fast.

the sight of you jerking him made his dick grow bigger and you lean down slowly kissing his tip. he throws his head back and moans lowly, the sound making you take him all in your mouth.

you bob your head up and down on his dick, laying your tongue flat on the bottom of it, “you sure you haven’t done this before?” mingyu asks between moans with a laugh, your cheeks turning red.

he grabs the sides of your head, slowly starting to thrust in your mouth, making you gag. he was encouraged by your gags, gradually going faster.

saliva was dripping out of your mouth as mingyu slams harder in your throat, giving you no mercy as he slams. “you like this baby girl? you got me to fuck your whore mouth.” he grunts, starting to sweat at his hairline.

you moan against him, sending vibrations and he gives one last hard slam before pulling out of your mouth, the spit dripping down your chin. “so sexy.” he whispers, laying on his back and jerking himself at the sight of you.

“come ride me.”

“yes sir.” you say hoarsely, straddling his waist and looking down at half of his suit still on. you pull the tie off slowly and grind against him, making him give you an ass slap.

“what did i say?” mingyu asks, bucking up his hips underneath you, slapping you again when you ignore him.

“i want to see your beautiful chest sir.” you pout, unbuttoning the buttons on his shirt purposely slow. he grunts and grabs your waist, letting you grind fast on his aching cock.

after you successfully take off his shirt, you lean down, kissing his neck and chest. your liquids now fully covered his dick with your grinds and he lifts you up, slamming into you without warning. “fuck mingyu!!” you yell and he slaps your ass hard, banging his hips up into you fast.

the fast movements made you tighten around him, and you started bouncing on him in the same rhythm as his thrusts. you grab your boobs and throw your head back, the feeling of your clit rubbing against his lower abdomen making you cum soon.

“i’m close sir, can i cum?” you ask, kissing his neck more and leaving hickeys. mingyu hums with pleasure, both of you keeping your fast pace.

“cum with me.” he commands and you whimper, not knowing when he’d cum. you hold it in as long as you can but start shaking when he teases you by rubbing your clit.

you stop your movements and fall into his neck when he fucks you, the pleasure getting too intense.

he kisses your ear and you can hear his grunts, “cum now.” he whispers, slapping your ass again, your body spasming ontop of him, and let out another yell that came out as a cry.

mingyu groans just as loud, feeling his warm cum shoot inside your pussy, you follow his lead and cum around him. he feels you tighten your walls around him and moans, his dick sensitive from the orgasm.

you lay on his chest, dick still inside you, heavy breathing in his neck. “that was the best sex i’ve ever had.” you whisper in his ear and he nods, rubbing your butt slowly in his hand. “me too baby.”

you blush at him, nuzzling your head in his sweaty neck, “you do this as a job, there’s no way i was the best.” you laugh and he kisses your head softly, “it really was, i dont get to use my dick often.”

you blush more and look up at mingyu’s red and wet face, “my 3 hours is over, thank you for today.”

he grabs your waist so you couldn’t get up and lays your head back in neck. “i think you have a few more hours.” his eyes were closed and he was murmuring so you knew he was tired, as were you.

you giggle softly, “are you going to fall asleep inside me?” he nods, grabbing a blanket and putting it over the two of you. “you can get free services from now on.” he whispers and you knew he would be a long, pleasurable fuck buddy.

[imaginesig]

“I was enchanted to meet you”

Kimi Antonelli x Norris!Reader

SMAU + Written parts

You’re Lando Norris’s little sister (18) and a spark flares up with a notable F2 driver (18) , how does everything go down?

Bonus: “I had the best day with you today”

I wanted to state that as I’m writing this I am 17 years old, on top of that I am an American. I do not know how to be 17/18 as a Brit so I did a bit of research but I’m not 100% confident. I gave Y/n an internship bc I assumed she’d be at the end of her secondary schooling. Sorry if that’s wildly off base.

~~~

A laugh erupted from my chest as a balled up sucky note made contact with Kimi’s forehead. I quickly grab my takeout lid to block his response attack. Only when I heard the ball make contact with the plastic did I relax my shield. On the other side, Kimi laid out on my hotel bed in sleep pants and a racing sweatshirt. His messy curls barely moved as he laughed. The soft light of the hotel lamp illuminated the scene like some kind of dream.

In here, it was a dream. No pressure, loud engines, cruel media, or annoying deadlines tainting the scene. It was authentic; our looks to each other were obvious, no sneaky glances.

In one smooth motion I moved from the desk chair to the opposite side of the bed from him. Propped up on my side, I mustered my best reporter voice, “So Mr. Antonelli, you've touched down in beautiful Barcelona a few hours ago and are gearing up for the weekend. The Spanish Grand Prix is known for its special conditions: corners of varying speeds, high chance of tyre wear, and many openings for overtakes. How confident are you in the car for this weekend? Any good strategies in the works to take advantage of rough tyre conditions the other teams will face?

Kimi and I laughed so hard we both turned red, “Well Ms. Norris it looks like someone’s done their homework.”

“It is my job” I shrug, “I also just love turn 9. I quite literally look forward to it every year.”

“Of course you love the hard one,” Kimi pulled his arm out from under his weight and fell into the bed.

“No sir, you have to go. Dont get comfortable,” I said.

“Y/n” kimi whines.

“No,” I laugh, “you need to go back to your own room.” With a huff and a few more comments Kimi is reminded of the reality outside of the hotel room, one where he has to return to his own room and wake up alone. With a hug and kiss, Kimi is on his way and I turn back to start cleaning up. Next to the takeout trash, my work bag also lays unpacked. I fall into a steady rhythm of tidying before bed while my mind wanders off to my secret relationship.

Kimi and I got together right before this season started. We met last season at a couple of different Motorsport events and spent the season getting closer. Then we spent the offseason working through the new depth added to our friendship. And now, we’re navigating unforgiving media who might not take our relationship too well and potentially ruin it.

With a yawn I finish up my task and head to bed. I go to turn off my bedside lamp and notice a goodnight message from Kimi.

~~~

yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, landonorris, user1, and 918,289 others

yn_norris: Barcelona, you have kept me busy 🥴

tagged: no one

Lilyzneimer my busy bee!! Best gp watch buddy ever, you always keep me updated with the top info 💖💖

yn_norris love you sm 💖💖 thank you for letting the teammates sister join you

user1 my fav intern 😍😍

user2 she always delivers 👏👏

user8 and grinds until the end everyday

landonorris wow I don’t even get shown, I’m hurt

yn_norris I completely flooded my stories with celebrations and you when you won. This is my moment

landonorris proud of your work always!!

yn_norris🫶🫶🫶

martagarcialopez19 pleasure to be interviewed by you!!

maya_weug lovely panel❤️��️

hamdaalqubaisi_official women in motorsports forever!!

user3 I love how Y/n and Lando always have 2 comment threads with varying emotions under every post

user4 KIMI IN THE LIKES???

user5 he stays in her likes

user6 tbh most of the F2/F1 academy drivers are, between her being Landos little sister and covering them the most with her job/internship they’ve gotten familiar

user7 exactly, even her and Ollie Bearman have reported they talk and could consider themselves in a friendship

user8 Abbi Pulling and Hamda Al Qubaisi have been known to hang out with Y/n apart from the track

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~~~

It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, Spain. I was so thankful I was able to take a few remote work days so I’d be able to stay another day and explore. It all worked out perfectly because both my brother and his teammate invited me to join their exploration and Kimi was able to get a late flight.

With the sun shining and birds singing I made my way down a less crowded street and was met by my boyfriend snapping photos of the scenery around him. I decide to quicken my pace and give him a hug.

“Hello there,” he says surprised. A chuckle escapes his mouth once he’s turned around to reciprocate the affection.

“Hi,” I smile. I look around as he pulled back and saw the iconic kissing mural surrounded by greenery, “wow.”

“Pretty right,” he says.

“Beautiful,” I gush,”let’s get a photo.” Kimi nods and I set my phone up to record a video to screen record to screen shot from since there was no one around at the early hour.

“How do you wanna pose?”

“Let’s kiss and really be that couple, you know,” I joke.

“Come here then,” the warm air and slight breeze made the moment feel like a fairytale. The world melted away as I enjoyed the sweet kiss. For a moment it felt like we were out to the world. But when the kiss ended, I felt disappointment that no one has seen us. Part of me grew restless with the secret keeping, “I found a really cute place for breakfast I think you’ll like it.”

We walked hand in hand down the quiet streets, passing by locals going through their morning chores. Soon enough we arrived at a small restaurant and were sat outside. Concealed by aged buildings, the place itself was low traffic and gave up peace of mind.

“Smile,” I look back towards Kimi from the surrounding scenery to see him holding up his camera. We took a couple of different shots before returning to conversation.

“I had the weirdest feeling earlier,” I start. Kimi looks a little concerned, “when we took that kissing photo I wanted someone to see. I wanted our relationship to get out.”

“I’ve been feeling the same way. It’s been and is so nice to have our little bubble, but part of me just wants to be and not worry about the when and where.”

“Exaclty my feelings. I’m glad we’re talking about this, let’s let the idea sit for a little while longer and then we can come up with a plan. I’m scared to rush into an announcement and not be ready for the outcome.” Kimi agrees and we fall into other topics of conversation over breakfast. After we go to an outdoor market and look around. I purchase some trinkets for other interns at the office who cover other sports. As the air slowly got hotter, Kimi’s time with me got shorter. Eventually it was time to take him back to the hotel to take a ride to the airport. We said our goodbyes and he promised to call me when he landed.

I quickly traveled to the lunch spot my brother informed me to meet the group at. We spent the rest of the day enjoying the scenery, taking cool photos, and just enjoying each others company since extra days like this were scarce.

Too soon the sun went down and our activities ended. Back in my hotel room I worked in the soft lamplight and prepared for my flight back to reality tomorrow.

~~~

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, lilyzniemer, user91, and 928,827 others

oscarpiastri: pro tip: never explore with the Norris siblings, they’ll make a scene everywhere

tagged: lilyzneimer, landonorris, yn_norris

yn_norris ummm this is embarrassing you seemed to have misspelled “Y/n thank you so much for the adorable pic of me and Lily! Thankfully your skill is far superior to your brothers so I was able to post one”

landonorris you twat

yn_norris I mean he didn’t post yours so…

oscarpiastri that’s it I’m getting a restraining order on you guys

landonorris we only made a couple…

oscarpiastri yea bc Y/n was only with us a few hours

user1 LMAO THE BIKE PHOTO

user2 they were ready to square up

yn_norris I kicked his ass

user2 OMG SHE REPLIED

user3 everytime I see a Y/n and Lily interaction it always gives little and big sis🥹

user4 omg ikr!! It makes me so happy that even though her bio sisters aren’t able to be with her 24/7 she has someone at gps and such

user5 what I wouldn’t give to explore the world with this group

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kimi.antonelli

Liked by user4, yn_norris, olliebearman, and 819,728 others

Kimi.antonelli: Barcelona, beautiful as always 👏

tagged:no one

olliebearman 💪💪

Prema_team glad to see the weekend allowed for relaxation 😎

user1 happy with the results this weekend!!

user2 ok scenic shot

user3 Kimi is coming for Y/n with the digital camera effect

user4 I wonder why it’s only on the last photo tho?

user5 maybe this is where she was when she wasn’t with the McLaren boys…

user6 ok grandma get back to bed

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Yn_norris

liked by kimi.antonelli, carlossainz55, abbiepulling, and 718,828 others

Yn_norris: España, mi amor

Tagged: lilyzniemer

oscarpiatri so glad my gf make the post and I didn’t

yn_norris cry me a river

landonorris who took the first pic you don’t have any friends other than me 🤨🤨

yn_norris choke

carlossainz55 always love your love of Spain 🇪🇸♥️

yn_norris with every bit of my heart!!

Riabish gorgeous!!

abbiepulling travel looks gorgeous on you

yn_norris 💋💋

user1 she ate this up

user2 first pic >>>>>

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yn_norris posted a story!

Caption: I get door dashed coffee even when he’s thousands of miles away 🫶🫶

Replies:

landonorris

who what when where why

idk, it’s coffee for those of us who don’t have the energy of a seven year old, this morning, my office, bc I’m loved

wdym “idk”

Y/n are you soft launching?? Your own brother doesn’t get to know before Instagram

I have a plan no fear

🙄

Kimi.antonelli

I’ve discovered you can special order a message or simple drawings through the app too

I can see that

so be prepared, there’s so much more where than came from

as much as I love this and would love to see what you come up with, I can get my own coffee

not happening

lmao ok

Not my hill to die on

I love you

I love you too, have a great day

Oscarpiastri

your bother is pacing

Lmao good

Let him squirm

Yes ma’am 🫡

~~~

The smell of exhaust fills my senses and V6s roar across the track. Lando and I were currently camped out in the Prema garage with our eyes glued to the screen. We let out a few comments and had mini conversations throughout.

When Kimi’s car cross the finish line the enter building jumped up. As the crew and engineers all ran out to the baraxade. I decided do lead Lando over where the podium is interviewed before the cool down room so we don’t interrupt team celebrations. We stand meters away so we don’t bother anyone but I still might be able to sent Kimi a thumbs up and a wink.

“I didn’t know you two got so close,” Lando mused as we still admits the buzzing padock.

“Well you know through other friends I’ve made from tagging alone to events and races with you we were bound to meet, especially with him being Ollies teammate this season,” Lando nods at that. “So how are you feeling about your race, the home ones always a big deal.”

“I’m super excited, but the nerves of potentially messing things up are there,” he confesses, “I want to win really bad.”

“Call it reporter’s gut but I feel-“ suddenly I was cut off my someone yelling my name.

“Y/n!” Kimi is sprinting over to us. So much for not making a scene, I think.

“Kimi! You did it!” I yelled back. Soon, he was a meter away and not stopping. I was grabbed along with him and brought a couple steps away as he slowed down. Before I could even comprehend the previous action, Kimi let out another victory cheer, grabbed my face, and kissed me in the middle of the paddock. The adrenaline and joy from his win charged the kiss from both ends. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced before. All those kisses in hotel room or hidden corners of the world were put to shame, this was the kiss. I was so focused on the moment that I didn’t remember that there were eyes on us everywhere, including the eyes of my brother.

“Y/n- I- What!” Lando stuttered with wide eyes. He still stood in our previous spot and seemed to be stuck there. After a moment of staring back, I realized my hands had come up to rest on Kimi’s biceps.

I quickly jumped back before turning to look at Kimi again, “Hey, I’m so proud! We can catch up and all that later. Go do your media stuff, I love you.” I wave him off and walk back to Lando, “before you say anything we need to talk privately.”

Once we find a quiet place I begin explains everything, “And that’s brings us up to now. We had a plan to slow launch and then during that time we hoped to tell family and close friends before anyone else. I swear this weekend was the one-“ he cut me off.

“Y/n don’t worry, I can tell the adrenaline got to him,” he smirks, “I know the feeling well.”

“Ew, ew Lando please stop there,” I cringe. “Are you sure you’re not mad? It wasn’t supposed to come out this way, especially not to you.”

“I’m fine. Granted I only saw a few seconds of that this relationship is but any man who’s gonna come running to you after a race before even heading to a mandatory interview or cool down then he’s a good one. Also you can’t fool me, your eyes lit up and you forgot I was even next to you when he showed up. I’m happy for you,” Lando pulled me into a bear hug.

“I love you Lan.”

“I love you too,” he pulled back and added,” but mum might be so give her a ring before she finds out.”

We both laugh before I FaceTime the family group chats for round 2 of explaining.

~~~

f1updates

Liked by user82, user282, user1, and 173,827 others

f1updates: After his first F2 win, Kimi Antonelli kisses Lando Norris’s little sister in the middle of the paddock! Videos from multiple sources have been reposted on our Twitter account.

tagged: Kimi.antonelli, yn_norris

used1 WHAT

user2 this was not on my 2024 bingo card

used3 after watching the videos it was right out of a romance movie

user4 the way he sprinted to her while ignoring everything else

user5 lando’s face killed me

user6 he was just as shocked as we are

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kimi.antonelli

liked by yn_norris, user43, prema_racing, and 918,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: maiden win anyone??

tagged: prema_racing, mercadesamgf1, yn_norris

yn_norris “where’s the trophy? He just comes running over to me” 🤭🤭

Kimi.antonelli ❤️❤️

landonorris 😑

yn_norris fuck off

prema_racing that’s our boy 👏🏆

User1 KIMI IS A RACE WINNER

user2 anyone else absolutely die when he kissed her

user3 yea I think Lando almost did

user4 Y/n’s comment 😭😭

carlossainz55 the last pic 🤨

danielriccardo so it is true

landonorris OF COURSE ITS TRUE A VIDEO HAS BEEN TRENDING ON TWITTER

Carlossainz55 honestly I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying but he could be worse

landonorris mate.

danielriccardo I say shovel talk before his next race see how he celebrates then

yn_norris no no no yall are done scheming in my boyfriends comment section

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~~~

The British Grand Prix had been a rollercoaster for the younger Norris who sat in the coverage of the McLaren garage watching the race. Kimi and I had sent a few messages about the race but since Lando lost his lead during his pit in lap 40 I have been zoned in. I’ve been praying since Lewis passed that something would happen, that by a miracle Lando would regain his lead. Unfortunately as the laps dwindled, Lando lost time between the winner and in lap 49 Max had successfully overtaken him. Sighs and cuss words could be heard all throughout the building. My head fell into my hands as I watched the race though hooded eyelids, weight down with sadness.

When the race was over I slowly took the same path Lando and I had taken yesterday towards the media area. I flashed by badge once again and found a stop on the r of the action. Eventually, Lando made his way to Jensen and completed his interview.

“Hey,” I said empathetically as I pulled him into a hug. “I know you hate this and I know you’re upset. Lando, you hold yourself to the highest standard imaginable, but please know you did great. Third place is still a handful of points and now you’ve gotten more experience so you and the team can make better calls in the future. This wasn’t a race that you could predict, you had to roll with the punches and you did. I’m so proud of you and now I have a new trophy I can steal for my future apartments decor!”

Lando let out a loud chuckle before he hit me on the head, “you’re not getting my trophies you muppet.”

“That’s what you think,” I fired back before he pulls me into another hug, this one more playful than the last. I waved him off to the cool down room and said a quick congratulations to Lewis before heading to get a spot with McLaren for the podium ceremony.

~~~

landonorris

Liked by yn_norris, user3, mclaren, and 819,928 others

landonorris: Silverstone I love you, my sister not so much ❤️ congrats on the win @/lewishamilton, we’ll review, do better, and come get you next time 😜

Tagged: lewishamilton

yn_norris I cried real tears @/lewishamilton

yn_norris you fought hard, it was entertaining race. Love you to the moon and back🫶🫶

landonorris love you to the moons and back twice 🫶

user1 HELLO?? THIS IS TO SWEEET

used2 with no warning either 😭😭

yn_norris also for the record I did nothing

Kimi.antonelli ok now I said I was sorry

user3 why war McLarens strategy all messed up this week

Kimi.antonelli great driving today 💪

landonorris 😑

yn_norris lando try that again.

landonorris 👍

user4 you still did great!!

user5 lmao the jab at Y/n 😭😭

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yn_norris

liked by danielriccardo, olliebearman, user88, and 198,828 others

yn_norris big weekend :)

tagged: landonorris, kimi.antonelli

landonorris big weekend? BIG WEEKEND? THATS ALL YOU HAVE TO SAY??

yn_norris I mean a lot happened

danielriccardo I think that trophy was kissed better than you

yn_norris 🙄✋

Kimi.antonelli love you ♥️

yn_norris love you too ♥️

user1 her and Lando 🥹🥹

olliebearman thanks for the support on your off weekend 👏👏

yn_norris anytime care bear

user2 “care bear” IM CRYING YN YOU CANT DO MY MAN LIKE THAT

user3 the McLaren flag slays so hard

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kimi.antonelli

Liked by yn_norris, landonorris, used928, and 727,828 others

Kimi.antonelli: I owe an apology to Y/n for ruining our soft launch on a whim, Lando for doing it front of you, and my family for not telling you guys sooner. But that’s all besides the point because I can finally say LOOK AT MY GIRLFRIEND

tagged: yn_norris

yn_norris omg I love you ♥️

Kimi.antonelli I love you more ♥️

user1 the uppercase at the end he’s so cute 😭😭

user2 you can tell he’s so excited

oscarpiastri so does the Barcelona photo prove that’s who Y/n was with that morning?

landonorris no shot they snuck around right under my nose

Kimi.antonelli no comment

yn_norris not my fault you’re an idiot who doesn’t ask enough questions

landonorris oh just you wait for my questions now

Oscarpiastri oh look now you’ve opened Pandora’s box y/n

carlossainz55 I guess I like you

Kimi.antonelli that’s comforting?

Carlossainz55 be happy it’s not hate

yn_norris he’s a tad bit overprotective

danielriccardo you’ve got balls kid, I respect it

Kimi.antonelli thank you 😁

user3 pls not this summoning all of Landos old teammates

user4 guess he’s not the only one they’ve grown attatched to

landonorris this is cute ig

Kimi.antonelli I’m taking this as a win

yn_norris don’t act all grumpy on main

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yn_norris

liked by Danielriccardo, user817, Kimi.antonelli, and 817,828 others

yn_norris: “this night is sparkling, don’t you let it go”

tagged: Kimi.antonelli

Kimi.antonelli fav taylor song 🫶🫶

yn_norris see aren’t you glad I made you listen to it

user1 Kimi is an Enchanted stan???

landonorris wtf is that last picture

yn_norris 🤷🏼‍♀️

user2 I love them so much 😭😭

User3 she dedicated Enchanted to him?? Girlie is in deep

Carlossainz55 does he make you happy?

danielriccardo this is is a very important question

yn_norris very 🥰

landonorris cancel the plans guys

Kimi.antonelli I’m scared

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yn_norris

Liked by lilyzniemer, user4, carlossainze55, and 981,828 others

yn_norris: he’s family approved ☀️😌

tagged: Kimi.antontelli

Kimi.antonelli Aunt Y/n 😍

landonorris absolutely not

danielriccardo I’m watching you

carlossainz55 stop right there

yn_norris do you guys always materialize in time to ruin the fun 😒

oscarpiastri 👶🚫

yn_norris OSCAR YOU TOO???

Landonorris take that helmet off her now, Uncle Lala’s is the only one allowed

yn_norris possessive much

user1 I can never tell how Lando feels about Kimi

user2 right mixed signals much? He bullies him in insta comments but openly supports him irl

user3 speaking from personal experience, that’s just him being an annoying older brother

lilyzniemer the matching outfits 🥰🥰

abbiepulling they are too cute!!!

yn_norris I love you both 🫶🫶

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[hier--soir]

ripe

pre-outbreak joel miller x f!reader

rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: a night out with old friends helps you and joel realise what’s been missing in your relationship. warnings/tags: pre-outbreak, set in the early 2000s, early thirties joel my lover boyy, bisexual reader, established relationship, that one shit stirring friend, brief alcohol consumption and piv sex at the onset, brief masturbation [m] in the bath, a little ass eating and fingering, a little spitting, pegging, dirty talk, praise, dildo is described as "your cock" multiple times, reach around hand job you will always be famous, they talk each other through it, the word hole is used 11 times but it feels like 100, also they're in love okay bye. word count: 5.3k masterlist a/n: this is being posted as a part of the PMAMC organised by @wannab-urs ! if you wanna read more glorious pegging fics for pp characters, a masterlist of everything being posted this week will be shared by gin soon! <3 x much thanks to @bageldaddy for holding my dick while i wrote this, for the edit, and for reminding me that where there is gape, there must also be affection x

Oil Can Harry’s is dark and loud; packed enough that condensation drips off the walls around you and makes the hair at the base of your neck frizz.

Packed into a sweaty booth, Joel’s flannel amidst all the glitter and hairspray and fruity cocktails of the drag night makes you grin. Your oldest friends fawn over him, endeared by the way he talks, the way he stands, the way he looks at you.

He smiles, warm and sheepish as they regale him with stories from years ago. Blushes when they remind him that he’s the first cock in a long line of cunts. Squeezes your knee beneath the table when they assert that he must be doing something right to have been kept around this long.

He settles in fast, lips slick and eyes glazed. Stops flustering while ordering Wet Pussys and Cock Sucking Cowboys, but still raises an eyebrow when a friend asks you, isn’t there anything you miss about it?

About what?

Dating women.

You roll your eyes, the sharp tang of vodka beneath your tongue as you shake your head. No.

S’not all that different, Joel offers up, smiling easily. Right?

So you tell him, No, and then, I mean, it is. But good different.  

But your cheeks have gone hot, eyes downcast as you sip a pink drink and try not to think about what exactly you miss. But Joel, fingers firm on your thigh, knows. He always knows.

So later when you’re in his bed, thighs pressed flush to your chest and he’s sinking inside your wet heat, it’s clear he isn’t letting up that easily. 

“You jealous?” he hums, elated and almost taunting, revelling in the way you sound as he fucks you. “Miss being the one fuckin’ someone this good?”

“Oh fuck off,” you whine, breathlessly embarrassed, gripping his shoulder and rutting your hips up against his, chasing the high that’s already tingling in your stomach.

“Naw, I want you to tell me.” He leans in, all ears for the dirty confession waiting to spill from your lips, loving it. “You miss your cock, baby?”

His hips press deeper, and the confession leaves your lips in a gasp. “Yes, fuck, okay yes I miss it.”

“Mm, you gonna show me it sometime?”

You feel your face go slack, stomach tightening at the thought, and Joel pushes further, harder.  

“Yeah baby, that’s what you want,” he goads, reaching between your bodies to press his fingers to your clit. “Want to fuck me, yeah? Bend me over and show me how much you miss it?”

You come with blood rushing in your ears and your hand gripping his ass, mind a blur of images of you being the one fucking him.

The next morning, sorely hungover and still tangled in his bedsheets, he asks if you were serious.

“Serious about what?” you ask, throat hoarse, eyes still closed.

His hand slips down your back to grip the flesh of your ass, the tip of his middle finger pressing dangerously close to your asshole until your eyelids crack open and you look at him. Brain ticking over, catching up slowly, eyes widening when you understand his train of thought.

When you don’t respond, head pounding and heart racing, he says, “If that’s what you want I’d—”

But caught up in the moment, in your own bashfulness, you interrupt him. Face warm at the idea of him having to placate you the morning after a drunken confession, you kiss him and say, “Don’t worry about it, okay?”  

Joel goes a little quiet, but kisses you back with fervour. Sucks your lower lip into his mouth and rolls on top of you, not letting you get out of bed until well into the afternoon.

It’s not until a month later that it all finally becomes clear. 

The house is oddly quiet when you get home.

Your living room is lit up by lamps across the space, but the television is off, and the couch cushions look undisturbed.

“Joel?” you call softly, stepping into the kitchen, pausing in confusion when you don’t find him there either.

You drop your purse on the counter and rifle through it for your phone, pulling up your text thread with him to reread his messages from a few hours ago.

You staying out late?

Not tonight, AJ has work early tomorrow. I should be home by 9. Meet me there? x

Perfect. See you at 9 x

The clock on your microwave reads 9:24 but you can’t hear a peep from anywhere in the house. Not a creaking floorboard or a shower running or even a snoring boyfriend.

“Babe, are you here?”

Nothing seems amiss at all until you reach the bathroom and find the door slightly ajar, light spilling out into the hallway as soft little sounds float out to your ears. Quiet murmurs punctuated by water lapping against porcelain.

“Joel?” You crack a knuckle against the door, careful not to nudge it open without his permission. “You okay?”

A rough inhale sounds behind the door and you pause, heartrate spiking a little. But then his voice calls through the wood, a little stilted as he says, “You can come in.”

Joel Miller hardly fits in your bathtub. All the times he’d joked about trying to squeeze in there with you, or when he’d come over with a sore back but insisted on a shower instead. But seeing him now, torso submerged in the water, muscled legs propped up against the wall with his hand resting between his thighs… you certainly aren’t complaining to see your broad boyfriend cramped up in your bath, touching himself.

“Hello there,” you murmur, bending to press a kiss to his sweaty temple. The tips of his curls are damp, frizzing around his ears as he smiles up at you. “Indulging yourself tonight I see.”

“You got no idea,” he replies, chin tilting upward as he stares you square in the face.

You smile at his flushed cheeks, at the muscle in his bicep flexing as he touches himself. Your gaze follows the veins in his arm, the flick of his wrist, but when you look into the water you pause. His cock is a rich red colour, hard and throbbing where it rests, neglected against his stomach. His thick fingers disappear past his balls, curling slowly out of your sight.

“Joel,” you exhale, face warming as you watch, slowly understanding. “Are you…?”

A harsh stream of air bursts from his nostrils as he meets your eyes, cheeks burning hotter by the second.

“Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about it,” he admits gruffly. “Not since that night at the bar.”

“Fuck,” you shake your head, frowning a little. “I thought you were just… Joel, I’m sorry I brushed you off that night—”

“Naw,” he tuts quickly, brushing the apology away with a jerk of his chin. “I should’ve said.”

There’s a brief silence, your brain racing to catch up, a slow smile slipping across your face.

“Read that a bath helps,” he says then, gaze heavy. “Soft and loose the website said.”

And whatever you’d been about to say, whatever thought was bubbling in your mind, slips away in an instant.

In its place, just a bone deep, aching love for this man. It’s clear in his eyes; tenderness, and care swirling in his stare. Endless brown, struck with adoration, clearly saying, I want to do this for you, with you.

Throat tight, you lower onto your knees beside the tub. “S’it feel good?”

A breath rattles through his chest, and he nods again.

You lean closer, craning your neck to try and see better. Find yourself wanting to catch the exact way he presses his fingers inside himself. How he curls them, massaging inside himself. But he notices and pulls his hand away, gripping his cock instead and grunting.

“Looked through your stuff.”

“Hmm?” You meet his eye again, mouth dry.

“The drawer in your closet,” he exhales, eyelids fluttering as he strokes himself. “Found your… I don’t know.”

“My what?”   

“The harness,” he grunts out, fist tightening around his cock. The tip rests out of the water, flushed an angry mauve colour, little beads of pearly come oozing from his slit. “All the… I don’t know what the fuck you call ‘em. You know what I mean, alright?”

“Joel.” You laugh a little, endeared by how bashful he can be, even as he touches himself in front of you. “Don’t get shy on me now, baby.”

“M’not.”

“No?” You smile, voice low and breathy now, liquid heat sparking in your veins the longer the idea percolates through your mind. “So you want me to fuck you?”

“You know I do.”

“You’re gonna let me put my cock in you, stretch you out just right for me, the way I let you do to me every night?”

“Fuck.” Joel’s eyes pinch shut, fist tightening around his cock.

You reach in and yank out the plug, watching as water begins to spin and gurgle, and Joel grips the edges to pull himself up. The water drips off him in thick beads, pouring from his fingertips, down the centre of his chest, keeping the curls at the base of his cock tight and dark. 

He’s over the lip of the tub in a second, crowding you against the sink with a thick arm on either side of you, wet chest darkening the fabric of your blouse, mouth slotting against mouth. Steam warmed lips smother yours, tongue snaking out to press inside your mouth, and he swallows down every little moan and gasp of excitement you feed into his kiss. His cock is warm against your stomach and his hips stutter back every time you grind the buckle of your belt against him, grinning into his mouth.

“Gonna make it good for me?” He grips your face in both hands. Tilts your chin up and smears nasty kisses over your jaw, down your neck to the collar of your shirt, skin smarting where his teeth snap at it. “Take care of me the way I do for you?”

“You know I will,” you pant, eyelids fluttering as he sucks at hollow of your throat. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”

Joel releases a wrecked, gravelly moan against your skin and then he’s gripping your arm, nudging you forward, past the threshold and into your dimly lit bedroom. The closet is open, third drawer down hanging limply out from the chest. Inside you can see that things have been shifted around, looked at. And on your bed, there’s a dildo. Heat rises in your chest as you stare at it. Thick and long and red, with a curved tip and raised silicone decorating shaft to give the illusion of veins.

Joel drapes an arm around your waist, holding you back against his bare chest. The thick weight of his cock presses against the base of your spine and you sigh, grinding back into him.

“Remembered you sayin’ it was your favourite.” He nips at your neck, inhaling as his nose presses into your hair. Your chest swells at that, and you turn your head, let your lips find his in a soft kiss.

That hand on your waist drifts down until his palm is cupping your sex through your pants, fingers pressing firmly over the inseam there. You sigh into his mouth, hand falling overtop his to keep it in place.

“It is my favourite,” you murmur into the kiss. “But we’re gonna start much smaller tonight, hmm?”

Joel makes a vague noise in the back of his throat, dark eyes searching yours.

“Don’t think I can handle it?”

“You’d be cruisin’ for a bruisin’, baby.”

Somehow, he blushes deeper than before, and clears his throat.

 “Alright.”  

He watches on as you dip a hand into the drawer. You gravitate to glass. Thick rose quartz with a gorgeous, rounded base. But you push it away, knowing it won’t work with your harness. You trace the length of a pretty mauve cock, ribbed for your pleasure—or his—with preternaturally large balls. Still too long. Everything too long, too thick, too much. But then you see it. Pale blue silicone, nestled beneath silk rope ties and a set of handcuffs you guys hadn’t used in in a while. You shift things away and pick it up.

Soft and smooth; it’s maybe 6 inches long with a little curve towards the end, and it’s oh so pretty in your hand. You grab a bottle of lube and turn to put them on the bed, smiling at the way his dark eyes focus on the items. So curious, so filled with desire, with eagerness to please, to let you do this to him, for him, with him. The trust on his face warms your chest and sets your heart racing.

Joel lands softly on the mattress as you reach back in. Fingers meet leather and soon enough he’s watching as you peel your pants down your legs, your underwear. Undoing the buttons on your blouse as he strokes his cock, pupils dilated, mouth hanging open. Only when you’re bare do you slip your legs into the harness, sighing as black leather tickles against your skin on the way up, and situate it around your hips. Only a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, watching him see you like this for the first time.

Pulling and twisting straps until it’s perfectly snug, you crawl up the bed to straddle his hips. His skin is warm and wet against yours, and his hands fall to your hips in seconds, wide eyes admiring the contraption fixed to your waist. He toys with the straps, eyeing the little silver fasteners, and then glides a finger around the inside circumference of the o-ring, breathing a little deeper now.

“S’nice,” he compliments, looking back up at your face. “You’re… you…”

“What?”

He shakes his head, as if in disbelief. “You’re gorgeous.”

You stare down at him for a moment; the hard set of his jaw, the strong line of his nose. Lean in and kiss him, softly this time. Whisper, so are you, against his lips and smile when he laughs.

Tapping his side, you get off and urge him to turn over. “Let me show you.”

His broad body twists, falling to land on his front with his legs bent, weight balanced on his knees and forearms. You trail featherlight fingers over his thick shoulder blades, down the strong line of his spine. Touch the little dimples at the small of his back, and then lean down to kiss them. Slowly, one and then the other. You feel his breath hitch a little and smile against his skin, landing on your knees between his calves and letting your hands fall over the muscled cheeks of his ass. Squeezing, kneading the flesh there with tender hands, and then pushing them apart, baring him to you.

“Oh,” you breathe quietly, eyes trained on the dark hair on his skin, the tight little hole between his cheeks. “So pretty, Joel.”

You sigh into the crease of his ass, fingers digging into the firm flesh of his cheeks as your tongue flicks out to glide over his hole. Still wet from the bath, he tastes like soap and warmth and Joel. His body goes tense for a second, back muscles flexing as he adjusts to the new sensation.

“Y’ain’t gotta do that—”

“I want to.”

You kiss the base of his spine again. Give him a moment to tell you he doesn’t want it, or he doesn’t like it. But seconds pass, and he stays silent, so you grin and lean down.  Eyes closed now, you lick him again; soft little strokes of your tongue from his balls to his tight hole until his body goes soft and lax and he’s exhaling little sighs into the pillows.

“Fuck,” he says. “So this is what I’ve been missin’, hmm?”

You hum against him, the corner of your mouth ticking up into a little smile as you prod your tongue against his rim, urging him to relax more so you can press deeper. As he opens up for you, you squeeze his hips gratefully, fingers soft and kind against his skin.

“So good for me,” he continues breathlessly, almost babbling now, stream of consciousness pouring from his lips in between sharp gasps and low grunts. “Got the prettiest little mouth, I wish I could see it baby—fuuuck—that’s it, good girl.”

Your fingers flutter a steady rhythm over the skin of his thighs. Caressing the dark hairs there, the twitching muscles, humming when he shivers beneath your touch. The harness digs into the flesh at the inside of your thighs, at your hips, and you almost moan at the familiar bite of it. Relish in the way it pinches at your skin when you bend and raise your ass in the air, working him open around your tongue.

With your nose pressed against his skin, you lathe messy kisses against his hole. Feel the way it clenches beneath your tongue and whine, inhaling the natural musk of him as you go. Your mind a blur with soft skin and rough hair and tight tight tight around your tongue.

Drunk on the taste of him, you let your hand drift from his thigh around his waist. Float across his stomach, forefinger dragging over his belly button, his happy trail, down down until your fingers glide over the slick head of his cock. Joel jumps a little, hypersensitive, and exhales a rough moan as your fingers wrap around his length and slowly begin to stroke. With the steady movement of your hand his asshole begins to pulse beneath your tongue and so you pull back to watch it. Admire the way it flutters and clenches. Quick, so fast your mind can hardly process it, you’re collecting saliva in your mouth and letting it drool past your lips, wet and messy as it pools over his asshole. Joel’s cock throbs in your hand and he groans. You think he even arches his back a little, his entire body pleading for you to just put your mouth back on him. But you take a second; watch your slick spit turn his skin shiny and grin, raising hand to suck your fingers into your mouth and then press your middle finger against him.

The tip of your finger presses forward, working to relax that tight ring of muscle, and he exhales heavily.

“I wanna fuck you so bad,” you tell him, voice thick with want as you pull your eyes off his ass to meet his stare.

“Then quit playin’ around and fuck me.” He presses back against you and groans when your finger slips inside his ass.

“Hey,” you warn, curling it slowly inside him. So warm and tight, unforgiving at first as you try to stroke at his insides. “Slow, okay?”

“Just want to feel you.” It’s clear on his face too. Pupils dilated, vulnerability splashed across his features with nowhere to hide.

“You will,” you soothe, pulling your hand back only to work a second finger inside. Kiss his skin again. “Let me take care of you.”

He doesn’t voice any complaints after that. Too busy with his face pressed against the pillows, drooling and grunting as you stretch him out around your fingers, his tight hole clamped down around the digits. You don’t touch his cock again, too worried he’ll come before you can really give him your all, but he gives pitiful little ruts toward the mattress. Soon enough his movements become so needy, so often, that, with a pang in your chest, you figure it must be painful. You almost ask how long he was touching himself before you came home, but then he’s interrupting the thought, reaching back to grip your wrist, wide eyes pleading with you from over his shoulder.

“Alright, love,” you murmur, pulling your fingers back and nodding. “I think you’re ready.”

Resting back on your heels, you grab the dildo and work it into the ring on your harness. Checking once, twice, to make sure it’s stable, before opening the bottle of lube. You squirt some onto your fingers, some directly onto the tip of the cock, and begin working it over the length, admiring the way it turns shiny beneath your touch.

“S’a pretty cock baby,” Joel admires, cheeks flushed. He watches you over his shoulder, eyes heavy-lidded as you stroke silicone, lube warming between your palm and the shaft.

“You like it?” He nods and your chest warms with pride at the way his eyes darken, gaze darting continuously from your face to the piece between your legs. “Well, you’re gonna love how it feels.”

A fresh pump of lube onto your fingers and you’re shifting forward, on your knees again, lathering it onto his hole, smiling at the squelch as you pump your fingers inside him and push it in.

And then, soon enough, pale blue meets dark pink. Prods and presses, soft at first, and then firmer as he relaxes for you. Lube rolls down the shaft in rivulets, pooling against puckered skin, drooling lower to coat his balls, and a low sound rumbles from Joel’s chest. When you pause, his chin ticks to the side and he peers past his shoulder to look at you.

“You good?” he asks.

“Mhm. You ready?”

“Yeah.”

Joel shivers when your hand lands at the base of his spine, thumb resting in the cleft of his ass, right above where you’ve started to press the tip inside him. The skin beside his eyes tightens, and he nudges his hips back into you, almost imperceptibly. You shiver at the sight, a sharp flush of arousal sparking between your thighs as you admire the plump shape of his ass. Like a ripe piece of fruit, begging to be split open.  

Joel chuckles knowingly; can see it in your eyes, the way your mouth hangs open. “Come on now. I know you’re dying for it, baby.” 

You grip his hip to keep him steady, cock notched against his opening, and continue pressing forward. Just gentle rolls of your hips at first, making sure everything is wet enough, checking in every now and then. But once the rounded tip pushes inside, Joel starts to squirm. His skin is flushed a deep red, beads of sweat rolling down his back, and you stroke his skin to soothe him.

“Joel?”

“Need you inside me.” His voice cracks a little on the last word,

“Shit, okay,” you exhale, fingers tightening on his waist. Your eyes leave the side of his face, locked on where your cock is steadily disappearing into him, and you press forward, bottoming out in one fell swoop. Leather meets his skin and the sounds he makes are none you’ve ever heard before. Deep, rumbling groans that come from the base of his stomach and force their way out of his throat. Tanned fingers grapple with your bedsheets, searching for an anchor as you drag your hips back and little and then feed your cock into him again.

You curse under your breath, unable to look away from how his hole gapes around the silicone, opening up for your every thrust.

“So fucking tight,” you whisper, awed as he ruts his ass back against you. Your fingers dig into his flesh, holding him open so you don’t miss a thing. “You look so good this, baby.”

Words are lost to him though, only able to form incoherent grunts and mumbles of your name as you deliver steady, deep strokes into his ass. It’s a slick glide now, almost no resistance left as you pump your cock into him.

“Talk to me,” you urge, sweat dribbling down your temples and smearing across your neck. “Wanna know how it feels.”

“Feels—” Joel chokes out, voice a thin, broken rasp. “A lot.”

“Yeah?”

“So fuckin full,” he says. “God, you’re so good, feels—fuck, feels so good.”

You moan a little, eyes glazing over as you pick up the pace, fucking him harder, hand between his shoulder blades as you press him flat against the mattress. And those rough noises he makes only urge you on, encouraging you to press a foot into the mattress at his side and push a little deeper until he’s gasping, thighs spasming below you.

“Shit,” you whimper, face screwing up as you watch his hand drift beneath his stomach. “I knew it, knew you’d love this.”  

You tug on his hips, pulling him back onto his knees so you can force his hand away and replace it with your own. Slick fingers wrap around his cock, the two of you cursing in unison at the way he pulses against your warm palm.

“Turn over for me.” Your fingers prod at the soft flesh around his hip as you pull out. You stare at the way his hole gapes open for a second, fluttering around the empty space where your cock has just been, and feel your cunt clench in response. “Please, I want to see your face.”

He lets you guide him, careful hands on his arms, his waist, until he lands on his back. A little unsure, his thighs fall apart so you can rest between them, and you give him a reassuring nod.

“That’s perfect,” you say, rubbing his thighs as you tilt them open wider, caressing his balls as you line yourself up with him again. “Doing so good for me, you’re perfect.”

And when you make contact, slipping in easily now, his stiff cock jolts and he lets out a ragged moan, reaching out for you.

Joel’s heavy hand lands on the base of your stomach, fingers twitching against the harness there.

“Wanna touch you,” he says, eyebrows pinched with need.

“I know, I know,” you murmur under your breath, smiling down at him. “Just let me take care of you, I wanna make you come like this, okay? Need to see it.”  

In response he just tucks his fingers around the top of the harness, holding on as you fuck into him, hot and heavy. Long, strong strokes that have his cock twitching against his stomach, pre-come dribbling from his tip as he just fucking takes and takes and takes.

“Keep talkin’ to me,” he pleads.

“You’re taking it so well,” you say, watching him keen under your praise. The skin on his chest glows with sweat and you lean forward to kiss his sternum. In response his fingers card through your hair, holding you to him as you mould your hips against his over and over.

“I love you.” You kiss the words into his skin, mouth falling open when he groans and starts raising his hips to meet yours, thrust for thrust. “So good for me, I love you, baby.”

“I love you,” he repeats, dazed and out of it when you pull back to look at his face again. You can tell he’s close; can see it in the twitch of his fingers, the shake of his thighs. “Shit.”  

And so you grip his knee with one hand and his cock with the other, pressing him open wider and stroking his length in time with your thrust. His eyes sharpen and he cries out. A harsh, high noise that makes your stomach tighten and your hair stand on end. And then he’s panting, telling you, fuck, right there, right fucking there, keep goin’.

His chest heaves below you, soft stomach moving fast and hard as you hold his knee to the side, griding your cock against that perfect little spot. Joel’s jaw pulls taut, veins thrumming in his neck as he holds his breath, seemingly fighting against the intensity of the feeling.

Your back aches, muscles on fire, but you push through, desperate to see the look on his face when he comes like this for the first time. And Joel must sense your determination, that burning need inside of you, because he locks eyes with you and nods.

“That’s it, baby,” he tells you. “Fuck me like I fuck you, that’s—shit, that’s perfect.”

Spurred on, your fingers tighten around the base of his cock and you slow your pace to a steady grind, rubbing the tip against where you know it feels best. He tells you as much, with the way his breathing starts to stutter and his nods become slow, lazy drags of his head.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, eyelids fluttering half closed. “Gonna…. fuck, I’m gonna come, baby.”

You watch the muscles in his abdomen pull tight, feel his hand land on your waist, propelling you forward to keep fucking him as his high creeps up and up inside of him, until you say let go, I’ve got you, come for me, and it all falls apart.

Thick white spurts from his ruddy tip, slicking your knuckles and painting your tits in pearly streaks that drip down your stomach. Joel’s groaning, teeth bared as his eyes loll back. The veins in his neck deep blue and pulsing, face a dark crimson as he shakes beneath you. Some of his come even lands on his own chest, and you moan at the sight, still fucking into him, trying to prolong it for as long as possible. He bats your hand away, fingers tangling tight and desperate around yours, and you watch in awe as come continues to dribble from his untouched cock. Streams of white that roll down his shaft, past his taut balls to where you’ve still got him stuffed to the brim.

“Ohh,” you murmur in delight, admiring the way his come looks on your cock, streaks of white on blue as you fuck him. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. God, you look so good right now.”

It all gets a bit too much for him after that. Fingers squeezing at your thighs, mouth twisted up as he murmurs, that’s it, baby, that’s all I got, and you ease yourself out of him, despite knowing you could probably keep milking him for all he’s worth and he’d just moan and take it because he loves you.

Instead, you watch as Joel’s legs go limp against the mattress, hovering over him, trailing your fingers softly against his hairy calves, catching your breath.

“Holy shit,” he rasps, reaching up to rub a hand over his face. You laugh quietly and press a little kiss against his knee.

A sticky mix of come and lube dribbles from the tip of the cock, dotting against his skin, and you apologise softly, fingers coming up to start removing the harness. He just smiles, body spent but eyes soft and loving as he watches you fret. Rapt beneath the weight of his gaze, you pause, cheeks aching as you smile down at him.

“Good?” you ask hopefully.

“Great.”

Pride sweeps through you and your smile only grows as you finally remove the harness, peeling it from your legs and nudging it away. You reach for his hand and he grips it between both of his, bringing it up to his mouth to lay soft kisses against your palm, the tips of your fingers.

“I love you,” you tell him again, and the feeling swims in your guts and burns the inside of your chest. It’s all you can think as he presses your hand to his cheek and nuzzles against it – that this is all you could ever hope to have and to keep. This beautiful, loving man who you want to make feel this good for the rest of your lives. He repeats the words against your skin, drowsy and earnest, and you know he must be feeling the exact same way.

“Don’t move. Let me get you some water,” you whisper, shifting to get off the bed, but he catches your wrist as you pull back, shaking his head lazily. 

“Don’t go far,” Joel murmurs. “Just gotta catch my breath, alright? And then I’m gonna make you come so hard you’ll be seein’ stars.”

thank you for reading! x

[animeyanderelover]

Confession

Hey, everyone. I have something to tell you which has been on my mind since over 4 years now and which I feel like I have to get out of my chest now. I don't want to write for character x male reader anymore. There are lots of reasons and thoughts behind this decision that have accumulated over many years and now I have finally made the decision to stop writing for the x male reader entirely.

The first reason for me is that I was born a woman and that I 100% identify as one. I started this blog mainly because I wanted to write my own fanfics about characters that I love and that is why I started in November 2020 my own blog on this side. However, I wanted to be inclusive which is why I decided to add the option to ask for an x male reader as well. However, I have figured out over the years that I experience less joy writing for requests asking for a male character because deep down this never was what I wanted to write for but I denied those thoughts because I was afraid that people would think that I hate people who identify as men in fanfiction. Part of me also always thought that maybe I would be a hypocrite. I feared to open a pandora box.

After all if I write about a character who is in a happy relationship, married and has a child in canon does that make me a homewrecker? I write about characters who are still teenagers and find myself writing Nsfw about them too so does that make me a pedophile? If I write about a female character x female reader despite the character never having been indicated to have any romantic interest in another woman am I just making everything lesbian to satisfy my own desires? There are women who write about male characters who are gay in canon with a female reader and I admit to having read some of those works too so does that make me homophobic? If I were to write about something like that too because I feel attracted to those characters does that make me a terrible person? Such doubts and worries constantly held me back from getting rid of that option but now I do not have those doubts anymore.

I had a bad start in the anime community by getting involved with some weird fujoshis and their fanart. That has already led me to the decision that I won't write any Nsfw posts with a male character x male reader and with my own consciousness I could never accept to write anything Nsfw related with a female character x male reader. The truth is because I’m an afab writer I could have never inserted myself in a reader with a dick.

Fujoshis and my own preferences are only two reasons though. The last reason for me is because I have had experiences with actual men on this side who pestered me via chat that they wanted me to write for an x male reader and even though I was not comfortable with it they continued anyways. Those experiences are rare but they added to my overall conflict nevertheless. A while ago I had the "pleasure" of being graced with such a person who really wanted me to write about the women of Arcane with a male reader, a phenomenon that I know has been not uncommon in the x reader community of the series on this app. He was awfully entitled and kept whining about the fact that no one seems to be willing to write about the x male reader for characters like Jinx or Vi and that he considers my writing to be good and that I was his last hope. I have blocked him together with the few others who asked the same of him before in that arrogant and pushy way.

None of those three reasons that I have named are the sole reason for that decision, it is more the accumulation of all of those reasons over the last years that have finally led to this post. So here is my final decision:

I won't write for the x male reader anymore.

I am sorry for all those who do not belong to the entitled male reader community and still felt included in my blog but I cannot write about something I do not feel motivated about and feel no joy in writing either. To all those arrogant male readers who my read this and feel insulted, here is my own opinion. Fanfiction is fanfiction. I do not have the right to call you out for writing about male readers with female characters who are gay because I have found myself guilty on the other side by thirsting about male characters who are gay and I might one day find myself writing about them with a female reader as well.

I don't mind shippers either as long as everything is kept within a legal range because if you come up to me and confess to shipping some brainrot vomit like Sebastian x Ciel (Black Butler), Toji x Megumi (Jjk) or All Might x Deku (My Hero Academia) I will not let you anywhere close to me. And yes, those are ships that people actually support and write about!! I personally just don't care about a ship unless the series is a romance but if you just keep it normal with the gay ships I don't care if you ship something like Gojo x Geto or Jayce x Viktor. Just don't be weird and then get all offended and mad when others, including the author of the work (!!!) doesn't ship them.

However, if male readers want fanfics then you just have to build your own fandom community and do it yourself. The fujoshis have done it, the whole x female reader community has done it. You have to do the same. No one of the writers on this app has started in here with any previous experience. I for example didn't write any world-changing book series before I started my blog and I guarantee you, none of the other writers have done that either. Just don't be a fucking whiny bitch about it and get all offended about it with writers who only write x female reader.

Listen, all of us have some weird fantasies here. I myself take even the most sunshine characters and turn them into obsessive freaks who abduct the reader and kill for them. I write for dub-con and non-con which is ultimately just a euphemism for fantasising about a fictional character r*ping me. I fantasise about male characters baby-trapping me sometimes but if any man in real life were to say something to me like I have written fictional characters say to the reader I will scream, bite and get a restraining order. Does that mean that I support everything that I see online? Fuck, no. Let's be real, who does? There are people who are weird and then there are people who are just gross and I usually stay away from those communities because arguing with them will only cost you your sanity because they clearly have none. On Tumblr I usually resort to swiftly blocking such people the moment I read their content and you are free to do the same to me if you don't support my writing.

Heck, I’ve even blocked people who ranted in the tags about Yandere or dub-con/non-con content and claimed that everyone who writes and reads such posts sick in the head because I believe I did them the favor of sparing them to come across my works. Speaking from experience, such people usually don’t avoid but feel the need to insult and lecture so I probably did them a favor by doing what they don’t want to do because they thrive on being on what they view as the morally high ground. The block button is there for a reason and not just for fancy decoration after all.

It's been more than 4 years on this app for me and I have grown as a person in real life and strive to do so as I continue each year which is why I have decided to not be a pure people pleaser anymore and only write what I can accept within my own consciousness and what I want to write about. It's my blog, it's my rules and if I can be proud with what I write and accomplish on here then this is how I should continue. To anyone who has requested something with a male reader and is still waiting for it to be answered, I cannot promise you that I will still answer it so you should be prepared that it's going to be most likely deleted. I am unfortunately not the right blog to write what you want but I hope that you can find one who will fill the role that I can't anymore.

[its-quiet-colter]

Hello! I’m not sure if you take requests but I’d love to see a Joel x M reader fic where Joel’s only started to experiment with his sexuality and reader is a long time friend of his who he’s confided in.

Maybe they sit down on the couch, have a few beers, and watch the game and Joel attempts to give reader a blowjob for the first time??

Again, I have no idea if you take requests so please feel free to ignore this if I’ve overstepped

Show me how to love you

Joel Miller x Male!Reader [Pre-outbreak]

Word Count: 4134

Warnings: 18+ NSFW, smut, denial of feelings, implied switch!Joel, come eating, blowjob, masturbation, slight internalised homophobia. also bisexual!joel referencing his ex-wife and Tess but this is 100% reader focused.

Notes: hello anon! never apologise! i love requests and you're my first one. they're always welcome, and this got me out of my writing slump so thank you!! i also apologise, i have only played the video games and i haven't seen show. so if this feels a bit ooc, it's because i'm going off of my experience with the games. i tried my best :)

| archive of our own |

Joel Miller is not a man who understands relationships well. Nor has he ever been good with them. He keeps to himself, choosing to remain closed off. Each offer for a coffee after school drop off ends or dinner at one of the nicer restaurants around town are all turned down with a tone that’s polite enough and borders on cold for anyone who doesn’t know him well enough. Emotionally unavailable, one of the women from the school’s mothers group had called him. He supposes there’s some truth to it. Joel is a man who swore never again to wear his heart on his sleeve after all.

It’s for a good cause, he tells himself. Sarah doesn’t need the stress of meeting a new woman, nor the inconsistency of being placed second in priority to any potential girlfriend. Not his babygirl. Joel is a dad now, a single dad. And he’s made peace with that. At least that’s what he tells himself each night. Maybe Sarah does want that female role model to call ‘mom’ at the end of the day and cheer her on at soccer practice beside Joel. He’s buried that long before he can ever begin to answer that question. 

He has his routine now, settled comfortably into the role of single dad. Bedtimes set, school lunches packed, laundry folded, in the car for school by seven-thirty in the morning. It’s not exciting but it's fulfilling. And that’s more than he can ask for right now. He tells himself there’s no room for anything extra in his day.

But as Joel watches Tommy and Maria, he can’t help but think about it. He’s lonely. The two of them leave a heavy feeling in his chest, like he’s stuck behind a shield of glass. Forever believing he’ll be unable to find the kind of connection he’d once known. It’s a far cry to hope for anything remotely similar to what his brother and Maria have. That feeling of security, domesticity, comfort. A pang of guilt hits him as he remembers the way Tess walked out the door and out of his life after the third attempt of trying to make it work. Both of them were unable to convince each other that they were anything more than friends. But that’s all far away now, faded memories and the phantom feeling of kisses he’d felt a long time ago. 

He can live with that, he tells himself. But it starts to feel less and less convincing each day that passes.

Joel hasn’t had sex with someone in well over a year. That number grows to be even greater for anyone who managed to stay longer than one night. He’s taken to sleeping in the middle of the bed, a book stacked on each bedside, collecting dust as the nights are spent alone thinking up at the ceiling. His home is sparsely decorated, with no one waiting for him at the end of a hard day’s work to tell him the house needs a spring clean or some serious redecorating. The divorce papers left on the kitchen counter from Sarah’s mother were merely just the nail in the coffin for Joel’s lackluster love life. 

It’s harder when Sarah is at school. The house is dreadfully empty, quiet. He considered getting a dog, if only to hear an extra set of footsteps in the house. The only real respite from his restless mind these days are your visits. Whether it’s meeting at the steakhouse for dinner, the weekly football game, or Tommy’s barbecue that Joel insists you tag along to for the sake of his sanity. You are one of the few people that doesn't make Joel feel lonely. He doesn’t look at you and yearn, he feels safe enough to lean on you, to confide in you over a beer and a good laugh. His best friend.

Whether it’s the stress of work or his struggles with the women in his life, or lack thereof, Joel knows he can trust you. Not once have you laughed or dismissed his emotions, even when it takes him half an hour of stubborn emotional inner conflict to admit he’s terribly lonely. You’ve always listened, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder with a firm squeeze. Stable. That’s what you are. The touch you provide easing all of Joel’s worries. You understand him, you’re all he needs.

And you’re great with kids, with Sarah. He trusts you more than he’s willing to admit.

Whenever Tommy needs to whisk him away for an extra hand on fixing up the porch or finishing up whatever project he’s working on, Joel can always rest easy when you agree to babysit for the night and watch over her. There’s never any nerves when he gives you the keys before he waves goodbye. You are Joel’s longest and closest friend. You’re as much family to him as Tommy or Maria.

Only you can make his heart feel warm when he comes through the door well past midnight, just to find you asleep in front of the television with Sarah dozing beside you. Empty cups of hot chocolate sit on the coffee table and her head is pillowed on your shoulder. The sounds of your snores drowning out the movie. 

Joel always notices the smell of home cooked dinner that lingers in the house, and the spare plate you leave for him to eat later. Or the way your boots are plonked alongside his and Sarah’s at the door, coated in a layer of damp snow. You’re an integral part of Joel’s life, of Joel himself. 

The next morning, when he watches you get back in your pickup and pull out of his driveway with a wave to him and Sarah, Joel silently wonders what it would be like if you lived together.

– 

School’s back in swing from the holidays, the cooler weather bringing along the ever-present loneliness now that Sarah is out for most of the day. Even at work, it’s barely enough to keep his agitated mind at bay. Too much free time to think now that he’s not playing board games and watching movies during the break.

He waits in the car outside of the gates, the heater keeping him warm whilst he waits to pick up his daughter once the bell rings. Joel’s fingers rub over the worn leather on the steering wheel as the engine hums silently in the background. It’s boring, he thinks, tilting his wrist to recheck the time on his watch. It’s been three minutes since he last checked. He sighs, rubbing a tired hand over his face, thumb brushing over the stubble on his chin. Sitting idle with his thoughts is not Joel’s forte and yet he finds himself doing it whenever he’s alone.

It’s really an afterthought when his eyes drift over towards two men walking across the street, unimposing and going about their day. With a coffee in hand, they walk towards the direction of Joel. it’s not until he notices their free hands are intertwined with each other’s, engrossed in an effortless conversation. He wonders what they’re talking about.

They look like old lovers, not youngsters in their twenties. But it’s the ease in which they walk hand in hand with each other, comfortable and light, that has Joel’s chest aching, a sour feeling settling over him. Their eyes hold so much affection for one another, like their whole world is standing right next to them. An everyday intimacy Joel has long forgotten about.

The brunette laughs at something the redhead says, his head falling back to reveal a faint mark that peeks out of the collar of his shirt. He can almost picture how it was put there, placed along the curve of the brunette’s neck. Something heated, warm and passionate underneath the cover of darkness, pressed against the heat of a mattress. Or maybe it was something far softer; a press of lips against warm skin and stubble. Protected under the early morning sunshine that filters through the window.

He tries to visualise it in his mind, but it’s blurry. Joel understands the basics of two men together, but the details elude him. It’s not something he ever thought it was worth thinking about. He’s never been in a situation where he’s on the receiving end of another man’s attention. Except for that one dreadful time at the pub when he had been oblivious to the flirty words of another patron at the bar.

You had laughed, warm and rumbly from your chest after Joel sat down beside you with your drinks, unaware that the entire interaction had been an attempt to get his number.

Joel watches as the brunette and the redhead pass by his car, the fog seemingly to clear and the moment is lost. Reality crashes back down at the sound of the door opening and closing as Sarah hops into the backseat of the car, shaking off her jacket. The image is gone, but the ache in his chest never truly fades. 

“Hey kiddo, how was school?”

–

The image of the couple remains with Joel well into the months passing. Winter has truly settled in now. With frost coating the windows, the shovel taken out of the cupboard and left by the door for everyday use, a snowman guarding the front lawn. Joel finds himself making hot chocolates for Sarah and trying hopelessly to stitch up the holes in her coats and beanies. 

It’s in the dead of night, when he’s alone under a layer of warm blankets, whiskey settling heavy in his gut to compliment the hum of arousal that simmers and brews away. Joel slides a hand under his boxers, pushing past the waistband. It’s a feeling so foreign with just how long it's been. 

He lets his mind wander, trying to think of long hair, sticky lipstick and scented perfume that borders on too sweet– relying on the same old fantasies which stopped feeling exciting years ago but that get the job done. He wraps a hand around himself, arching slightly as precum makes the slide over his cock easier. Joel bites his lip, brow furrowed as his imagination gives way to the thought of a solid chest, the sprinkle of hair across warm skin that trails down to a navel. The scrape of stubble over his inner thighs, leaving kisses and marks in their wake. It's easier to picture than he assumed, the roughness of his own palm gifting the illusion he’s not alone. Perhaps it’s one of the other single dad’s, or the lad who works over at the hardware store, or you.

Heat pools in his stomach at the thought of you, his best friend. 

“Ngh, fuck.” he mumbles.

Joel thumbs the slit, his cock twitching in his hand as he imagines you next to him, your weight settled on top of him like a security blanket as he chokes back a moan and gives himself over to you.

A hand covers his mouth as his orgasm hits suddenly, far closer to the edge than he thought he was. His chest heaves and his thighs shake as he rides out the strongest orgasm he’s had in a long time. Come coats his fist as he strokes himself, grinding up into his palm to draw out the last of his pleasure.

In the darkness of his room alone, all sated and spent, Joel brings his palm up and licks the come off his hand whilst it’s still warm. For a moment, he can pretend it's yours.

–

When he sees you for the weekly game that plays on cable, Joel’s stomach all but drops and guilt washes over him and settles uncomfortably in his chest. He takes it all back. Feeling lonely and wanting is far better than whatever feelings he’s holding for you. It’s more than just your looks, he realises. Joel really loves you. He feels safe with you, enough to be vulnerable and confide his turmoils with. The thought of ever telling you what’s going on in head scares him shitless.

As you walk into Joel’s house, it’s warm and inviting. Enough to strip your coat, shaking it off to remove the excess snow. Joel’s left space for you in his life, an extra space on the coat hanger by the door, a dozen eggs instead of six, an extra beer placed in the fridge. Little things you’ve noticed. You occupy his living room, his kitchen and now almost always, you take pride and place in his bedroom when he’s alone at night.

Joel watches as you sit next to him on the couch, hyper aware of the space between you two, or lack thereof. He tries to focus on the game. The cheering, the scorecard, the pass of the ball from player to player, but it all feels a million miles away. You, however, feel all too close and Joel feels like he’s about to say something stupid.

“You okay?” You ask softly, breaking the silence of the room. He watches you turn towards him, shifting on the couch with your beer balanced on your knee. You’ve always listened to him, given him the space he needs to talk if he wants. Joel almost hates the soft gentle tone of your voice, it makes him want to tell you everything.

“Yeah, ‘m good.” He says, it sounds unconvincing even to his own ears. “Just stressed with work and Sarah’s school and stuff..”

You know he’s lying. Joel’s never stressed about work, the tasks come easy to him, working away with his hands helps him think rather than stress. And he takes to looking after Sarah like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Of course he worries like any dad would, but it’s not like him to get all quiet and fidgety through a football game.

“Alright.” Your voice is gentle, understanding he doesn’t want to talk about it. You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, squeezing in reassurance. Trying to convey without words that you’ve got him, that he’s not alone.

Joel’s quiet for a long time, but the way he leans into your touch doesn't go unnoticed. The game rumbles in the background, both of you watching it and neither paying attention.

“Have you ever… have you ever been with a man?” Joel asks, awkward and shaky. Uncertain. His arms folded over his chest as he shuffles uncomfortably, silently scolding himself for asking outright. But how else was he supposed to say it?

You can hear the tremble in his voice, the underlying fear written within the words. Unsaid and yet read all the same. Joel knows you’re more accepting than most, there’s been countless instances throughout your friendship to suggest you’d have no problem with such a question. And yet the man who is a born and bred Texan, who knows the way neighbours talk and strangers stare. His mind falls back to the brunette and the redhead, and the kind of things they must have to face.

“Yeah, I have.” You nod, your expression soft as you see the range of emotions crossing over his face. Shock, relief, confusion and fear.

“You have?” Joel asks in disbelief, like he won’t believe it until he’s heard it again. You’d tell him a million times if you had to. “How did you know…? That you were interested, I mean.”

“Well,” You start, a hand rubbing over your chin. “I kind of figured it out when I was real young, you know, a boy in my class, the neighbour's son, that kind of thing. But I didn’t really get it all figured out till I got to college. You know how the south is.”

“Yeah… I know.” Joel nods solemnly, it’s something he’s been thinking about over and over for months now. He opens his mouth, ready to speak and then a beat later not so ready. Joel closes his mouth, fidgets awkwardly under the silence. He doesn’t know what to do with the information of knowing that you, his best friend, have probably already gone through all the inner turmoil he has right now. But you’ve come out the other side, comfortable with yourself all these years later. Joel would be lying if he said he wasn’t jealous.

“Is that why you’ve been so stressed lately?” You ask, watching as Joel nods and takes a swig of the beer, wishing it was whiskey.

“You know you don’t have to hide how you’re feeling with me, Joel.” You place a gentle hand on his elbow, the touch grounding and Joel realises how desperately he needs to let it out. He’s held it in for far too long.

“I know, it’s just-” Joel cuts himself off, frustrated with himself that he can’t confide in you how he usually does. He needs you, your comfort. The normalcy you bring. “It’s something I've been thinkin’ about for a while now. But it ain’t as simple as just acting on it.”

Your hand moves up from his elbow to his shoulder again, your thumb brushing over the warm skin of his neck where the collar of his shirt ends. He shivers slightly, the touch lovely and cosy with the cold weather raging outside. Joel looks down at your hand on his shoulder. Then to your face where his eyes trail down to your lips.

Oh, you think. Realize. You know that look. Joel’s clearly thought about it and he’s thought about you specifically. There’s a hint of vulnerability and guilt in his eyes, his expression so raw. Like he’s finally decided to drop that emotional stoicism and reach a hand out for you.

The empty beer bottles are put down on the coffee table, as you turn to face Joel. One hand gently coming up to cup his cheek as the anticipation builds.

“Can I?” You ask softly, not wanting to break the fragile moment.

“Please.” Joel nods, and you lean forward. Lips press against lips and you feel the bristling of his stubble against your own as he leans into the kiss. His hands hesitate against the couch, curled into fists before he relaxes into the feel of your hands against his cheeks and your lips parting to feel each other more.

Your tongue swipes across his teeth and you feel the vibration of his moan as he opens his mouth and lets you explore your mouth. Joel’s hands unclench from the couch and he holds onto your shirt, pulling you closer so your legs start to tangle as you both spread out on the couch. When you pull away for breath, Joel is panting against your lips, the tip of his nose brushing over your cheek in a warm gesture.

“Too much?” You ask, not wanting to push him too far too soon. 

He shakes his head, still holding onto your shirt as if he’s afraid to let go. “No, not at all.”

You kiss him once, and then again. Then, before you know it, the halftime break is up and the game resumes in the background, but it’s lost on you both. The feeling of Joel pressed against you, the low thrum of arousal that grows between you. It’s far better than any game going on.

Joel slides down off the couch, and for a moment you think he’s fallen with the way he settles on his knees with a soft thud. But as he looks up at you, his chin resting on your leg, you know he went there willingly.

“Can I?” He says softly. Now it’s his turn to ask you, to want to be given permission as he tugs at your jeans slightly.

“You don’t have to–”

“I want to.” Joel says, shaking his head as he looks up at you with more certainty than he’s shown all night.

He’s wanted this for months now, the feel of another man. And yet, Joel is ill prepared for the intimacy of the moment. The warmth of your skin, the scent of sweat and arousal. The way your fingers slide through his short, shabby hair, guiding him down onto your length for the first time. You moan softly, hands cradling his head as he takes your into his mouth. God that’s good. Both of you are lost in the sensation of the other. The feel of your cock, warm and heavy under his tongue. And the warmth in your gut as Joel licks away the precum that beads from your tip.

The faint flicker of blue light from the game in the background bounces off his hair, catching the dark strands and illuminates a faint silver glow. A halo of soft light around his curls and the shadows cast over the curve of his nose as he looks up at you, the head of your cock swallowed around his lips. It’s intoxicating and you can’t help but moan at the sight of Joel below you.

Arousal settles in his belly, the strain of his own erection pushing at the zipper of his jeans. But Joel barely passes a thought for his own pleasure, instead captivated by the jut of your hips as you begin to thrust shallowly into his mouth.

“Steady, there you go baby.” You drawl, your voice heavy with arousal. Just the sight of Joel between your legs, moaning on your cock is enough to make you feel close. He gets too ahead of himself, too desperate and eager to feel you as he tries to take you all the way down. A gag is torn from him, and he can’t help but drool and splutter, pulling back from your length as it rests against his cheek, connected by a line of spittle.

“I don’t know what I'm doing.” Joel admits. The statement takes more vulnerability than he’s willing to admit, but it’s masked by the roughness in his voice, his accent raw and drawn out. 

“Just open your mouth wide and let your tongue fall over your teeth, darlin’.” You soothe, hands cupping either side of his head. 

Joel does as you’ve told, taking comfort and pleasure in your instruction. He likes it when you’re in charge. He can lose himself in your calming words, your experience helping him let go. He’s not worried about impressing you or messing up. Instead he just focuses on the heavy weight of your length on his tongue and the salty taste of precum. His own cock twitches in his pants and he realizes he could come untouched if he really wanted. But he had a feeling you’d take care of him regardless.

This is what he has been missing for so long now. Not just sex. But intimacy and safety. You’re his confidant, of course he trusts you to take care of him. Joel moans around you, his hands clutching at your thighs as he feels you move in and out of his mouth.

“Joel– ‘m close darlin’.” You warn gently, fingers tightening around his hair as your hips start to lift off the couch slightly. Joel groans, the thought of you finishing in his mouth causing his eyes to close as he buries his nose in your curls and sucks hard.

“Oh fuck.” Your moan is drowned out by the crowd cheering for a touchdown, and your hands stroke his sweaty hair off his forehead. Joel moans as he swallows your come, warm and a little salty. It trickles down his chin when you pull away, and if it wasn’t for his own arousal starting to ache, he’d have stayed down there on his knees for another hour.

You reach down, your thumb brushing away the mess on his chin before you’re kissing him and pulling him back up onto the couch with you. The taste of yourself lingers on his lips and Joel pants for breath between kisses, shuffling out of his jeans whilst trying to stay plastered to you.

“You know, for your first blowjob, you’re not too bad, darlin’.” You chuckle lightly, watching as he settles back against the armrest of the couch, a hand wrapped lazily around himself as he strokes his length.

Joel can’t help but laugh soft, trailing off into a soft gasp as you start to kiss your way down his chest to his navel. 

“Gonna let me repay the favour, mh?” You ask with a smile, wrapping your hand around his own to set the pace.

“Ngh, don’t leave me hanging, darlin’.” He moans softly, laying back against the couch as his eyes close.

Your smile is warm and playful as you settle between his legs, knowing just how good you’re going to make your man feel. Because he’s yours. He has been for a long time, it just took Joel a while to realise it.

[aceoflove]

Love Letters from Lemoore (Husband! Bob)

Word count: 732

Warnings: None

Pronouns used: She/her

I was bored and wrote this during a road trip :)

Everybody could see the smitten look on the shy WSO’s face as he reads a letter, about three pages long. As he leans against his hand against his cheek, he turns to the next page. Her writing was so familiar and even though they call last night, he always treasured her letters, the words making his heart flutter a little more.

He had to leave is darling wife and daughter behind 5 months ago, as he was called back to ‘Top Gun’ and his heart ached to see them again. But he must be strong, and do his job, as much as it hurts his heart. They try to call as often as they can, so he isn’t absent from their lives, but he always looked forward to her letters, sometimes they declare her love, and other times there is a drawing from his daughter.

Across the hanger, the others watched him, intrigued by the letter in his hand.

“He’s got heart eyes.” Hangman turns to his friend Javy with a chuckle.

“I know. Maybe it’s from his girlfriend?”

His co-pilot suggests as he sees the WSO chuckle. Hangman can’t help but tilt his head, grinning at ‘Baby on Board’, always looking for a new thing to tease him about.

“She must be like 100 years old if she’s still writing letters.”

A round of chuckles is heard in the group as Bob folds up the letter, putting it in the pocket over his heart as Mav enters, calling them to attention.

“How is Grandpa doing?”

He rolls his eyes. Ever since they saw him reading the letter from his wife, Hangman insists on calling him Grandpa, since clearly it must be an old lady writing to him. Phoenix promised him they would drop it after a week or two, but after a month of teasing, he was getting sick of it.

“Fine thanks.”

Hangman’s strong hand pats him on the back as he takes another swig from his beer, taking a seat next to him. It’s a typical Friday night at the ‘Hard Deck’, all the Navy pilots and WSOs alongside other people in the town all gathering around as the juke box plays old tunes, people dancing and drinking and having fun.

He really was trying to enjoy himself, but with his little girl’s 3rd birthday in a few days, and his leave being rejected, he can’t help but feel down. He had already called his wife, apologising about 1000 times as she kept insisting it was okay. But he heard her disappointment, the way she was saying it was okay.

It had been 6 months since he had been able to see them in person, and it would take a few more months until he got approval for them to move here with him.

A low whistle escapes the man next to him.

“Babe at 10 o’clock.” He points out to all the guys and to no surprise they looked.

“I bet I could get her number in 10 minutes.” “Yeah right Bagman!”

He rolls his eyes. As much as he enjoys seeing Hangman bomb with women at the bar, today he couldn’t even look in the direction of this woman, too distracted by his own.

“You sure Hangman? She has a kid with her.”

Phoenix walks behind them, leaning against the back of Jake’s chair. As he looks up at Hangman’s face, he could see the confidence slipping, but he tries to hide it with a smirk.

“I’m sure.”

“Good cause she’s coming over here.”

Bob finally turns his head to take a quick glance at Hangman’s next victim, but he stops, almost dropping his apple cider.

With out a thought he stands up, a stupid, dopey grin growing on his face as the little girl sees him first.

“Daddy!”

She points towards Bob and the woman holding her looks up, and the family wore matching grins.

“Huh. Bob?”

He starts pushing through his coworkers and getting to his girls.

“Hi Bobby.”

His wife’s coy grin told him all he needed before he leans in and presses a soft kiss against her forehead, then taking his daughter in his arms. The world around them was drowned out as they held each other, a smitten grin on Bobs face told Hangman all he needed. But that didn’t stop Phoenix and her sass.

“For 100, she is gorgeous.”

also happy birthday to sunny the bob floyd lover

[surshica]

PINK IS THE NEW RED

: CL16

genre: fluff kinda rushed whatever !

warnings: translated french yeah

A/N: and yes i am talking about singles inferno and the lee nadine. my fav korean-american influencer 🫶 and yeah this kinda has no plot but NADINEEEEE

synopsis: charles is dating someone who was on a love show whom is known for rave parties — charles leclerc x reader (fc: nadine lee)

yn.ln

liked by pierregasly,lewishamilton and 373,252 others

yn.ln day 2 of coachella week 1!! guess what i am~ 🧚‍♀️

user52 still can’t believe you were on singles inferno and nobody picked you..

user69 THATS WHAT IM SAYING!! but from the looks of it singles inferno was like a year and half ago so maybe..

user23 nah impossible the men on there lowkey didn’t even stand a chance, they were kinda bland🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️‼️

liked by yn.ln

— view 628 more replies —

user63 liked by pierregasly? does someone have a crush?

user92 pierre is dating kika!!

user63 okay maybe pierre watched singles inferno?

— view 43 more replies —

lewishamilton much fun can’t wait for day 3!

yn.ln where is roscoe.

lewishamilton he’s at home

yn.ln ditching you for your dog

lewishamilton i’ll buy you food

yn.ln ..i wanna try your vegan snacks sir lewis hamiliton

user51 they’re literally flirting bye. WHEN DID YN GETVINTO F1?;!;?

— view 268 more replies —

user12 liked by pierregasly

liked by pierregasly

— view all comments —

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.ln,pierregasly and 1,569,368 others

charles_leclerc today was fun

tagged pierregasly,joris__trouche,audreyrublev

user34 it’s giving old money

user63 whoever styled charles needs a raise because that whole fit is 🤌

charles_leclerc i’ll make sure to tell her that

user73 HER? WHO IS HER?

pierregasly liked by pierregasly btw!

user52 okay the fact the whole grid was there…didn’t know y’all were tennis lovers too

user92 i love how it’s the whole grid and lewis is at coachella

user108 man has priorities what can i say?

user76 if you could pick from going to a tennis game in monte carlo or coachella what would you pick?

user32 mmm…coachella maybe

yn.ln sweats as professional pants we love to see it!

charles_leclerc designers choice!

yn.ln give me the number of the designer i need her to make my outfits 🤭

charles_leclerc no

yn.ln why you gatekeeping bro.

— view 628 comments —

user19 yn in her influencing arc!!

user43 “liked by yn.ln” DONT DO IT I WAS GATEKEEPING YOU.

— view all comments —

yn.ln

COACHELLA

liked by lewishamilton,charles_leclerc and 374,826 others

yn.ln coachella day 3 🥲 i’m still confused about the frank ocean performance…

tagged fembestie,malebestie

user29 women in stem who can party 😍

user75 RIGHT? like bro was an hour late and dod three performances and called it quits..

yn.ln at least he showed up right?

yn.ln should’ve put xnda up on the stage

lewishamilton okay now you’re setting me up

— view 82 comments —

user15 YOU ATE THAT. coachella? what’s that? i only know yn festival

user57 they should’ve put me on singles inferno i would’ve rizzed you up.

yn.ln my dms are always open🤷‍♀️

pierregasly someone did not like this comment😭..

user82 100-92 =

user54 98?

user42 LORD…YOU DID NOT JUST SAY 98

user92 💀

user12 i love how it’s just shirtless men in the background and yn in pink

francisca.cgomes i should’ve went with..i was over here third wheeling the whole time.

yn.ln i would’ve snuck you in if i knew you would have to deal with…them.

pierregasly NOT LIKED by pierregasly

— view 72 comments —

charles_leclerc pretty in pink 🩷

liked by yn.ln

user61 if these are the coachella fits i want to see the lollapalooza ones..BCCCC inspo~

charles_leclerc this sounds like you are going to the azerbaijani gp 🤔

yn.ln are you going to win?

charles_leclerc maybe you’ll be my lucky charm

yn.ln i’ll meet you there then!

liked by charles_leclerc

user19 DO YALL SEE CHARLES.

user69 bro got noticed by a pretty girl and can’t act properly..

— view all comments —

yn.ln posted a story

yn.ln

liked by lilymhe,fransica.cgomes and 284,739 others

yn.ln he just would not let go of me. no seriously

user59 my gf who doesn’t know is my gf is in a relationship? 🫠

user72 the cat heart necklace imma kms.

user91 now i’m invested into who this guy actually is..

user11 maybe it’s that one guy from the show, the military guy

user40 WAIT theyd be a power couple

lilymhe well tell him to stop being all cuddly we are having a girls night.

yn.ln “he said no and girls night could wait” - C

francisca.cgomes not like his opinion mattered anyways we are still going to steal you

user82 charles is screaming throwing stuff at the wall after seeing this

user99 charles : “hey alexa play that should be me by justin beiber”

lewishamilton i take it you’re here to support mercedes next gp win?

charles_leclerc me when i’m delusional!

maxverstappen1 charles you haven’t even podiumed this year plus we all know yn is here to support me~

charles_leclerc go away you are dating…yk who.😒

liked by yn.ln

mercedesamgf1 can’t wait to see you repping our merch on the paddock!

scuderiaferrari i guess someone didn’t get the memo that yn is a tifosi 💋

— view all comments —

yn.ln

liked by charles_leclerc,scuderiaferrari and 592,825 others

yn.ln pink is the new red ‼️

tagged scuderiaferrari

charles_leclerc wearing an alpines color..

yn.ln pink is just a shade of red charlie

charles_leclerc and you’re supposed to be my lucky charm

yn.ln i will be and forever am

user87 ATE!!

user96 sometimes all ferrari needs is a little pink in their lives~

— view 34 comments —

user63 PURRRR

scuderiaferrari you might need to teach little charlie over here how to dress!

yn.ln oh believe me i know…

lilymhe i love you i love this fit

lissisemackintosh OH MY🤭 listen if he doesn’t go public thenn~

user52 lizzie knows something we don’t..

— view 127 comments —

user01 normalize everyone wearing pink in the paddock.

yn.ln you’re right. @mercedesamgf1 let toto wear pink!

— view 92 comments —

user09 i love how when everyone shows up to the paddock it’s like fancy ass outfits and yn comes in with cargo pants and a white top

user16 she chose comfy not fancy

— view all comments —

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.ln,pierregasly and 2,826,927 others

charles_leclerc P1 !!! what a weekend for the team and for the tifosi! lets keep pushing more like this especially after the disappointing last few races this year! next up miami 🏆

tagged scuderiaferrari

user77 LETS GO HES BACK.

user96 🔥🔥🔥

user43 charles villain arc???

user82 NOWWW. RIGHT NEOWWWW.

user24 you best believe it!!

lewishamilton amazing driving today mate!! 👏👏

yn.ln hot people got first this race

charles_leclerc 🤔

scuderiaferrari and yall said the ferrari curse was real! 🙄

redbullracing because it still is…

scuderiaferrari nuh uh! if you have a problem with it check out cars it’s fine!!

rebullracing really? i have multiple videos of you drivers saying your car sucks.

mercedesamgf1 yoooo…chill🥶

scuderiaferrari get out of here with your long ass name

— view all comments —

yn.ln posted a story

charles_leclerc replied to your story: WELL YOU SEE THE WHOLE SOFT LAUNCH WASNT WORKING ANDD…

charles_leclerc replied to your story: did you at least like the teddy bear?;;

@ surshica | rb & follow.

[maleyanderecafe]

The Lithromantic Duke (Webcomic)

Created by: 岚梓

Genre: Fantasy/Romance

The Lithromantic Duke is pretty short as of now but it does have an interesting concept relating to a ghost and a maid. I was surprised to find that this was a Chinese webcomic since it doesn't really follow the general Chinese webcomic styles (which is generally shorter lengths, but more chapters and a more speedy plot progression). Currently there are about 10 chapters out and the ghost is very cute.

The story starts out the Maid, Dolly, recalling Duke Hart Bolton, the founder of the kingdom. He was able to establish the kingdom, but died suddenly, without any children. After many years, the fifth duke has appeared in their mansion, Anders Bolton, who bears an identical appearance to the original Hart Bolton. It seems that they are preparing a ball for Anders who is about to get married and Dolly unveils a portrait of the original Duke Hart Bolton in the mansion. We learn pretty quickly that Duke Hart Bolton's ghost still resides in the mansion for about 100 years, and has been fawning and in love with Dolly, even though he cannot interact with her. Hart remembers when he first met Dolly five years ago, crying under his portrait as she started out wishing that she could work better. As the years went on, Hart began to fall for her and watched her while she worked throughout the mansion. As Dolly works to take care of the ball, Hart continues to fawn over her. During the ball, Hart watches as Anders ends up drinking poison from a cup, laughing and mocking him until Dolly comes in. Anders has a heart attack, causing Hart to also experience the same, and when he wakes up, he finds that he has taken over Ander's body. Happy with his new body, he immidiately goes down to dote on Dolly for the first time, startling Dolly and all of the maids as the head maid tries to blame her for the poisoning. He also accuses the head maid of stealing as he's watched them all in the household and brings Dolly into his room.

Dolly of course, is naturally really confused why the Duke has suddenly fallen for her and is doting on her with a lot of fancy clothes. As Hart continues to praise and dote on Dolly, Dolly starts to realize that she is likely the next of Anders's women that he's taken interest in, as Anders was notoriously a playboy and often jumped from women to women. Hart tries to bring her to different places that Dolly might like, such as the garden which she was never allowed to go to and showers her with gifts and praise. He also tries to kiss her, but holds back as he wants to slowly develop the relationship between them, as he knows that she's not aware of the fact that he's taken over Anders's body. The two continue the date until Hart is forced to talk to the princess, much to his dismay and leaves to attend his business. Here the butler slyly reminds Dolly that she is simply a maid and must maintain her place as such, even despite Hart's current doting on her. Hart pretty much goes to meet the princess, realizes that she's essentially a reincarnation of an old friend (just as a female), thanks her for her time and tells her to go back. The butler seems really distressed at this behavior, trying to lecture the duke that it's rude to do that, but Hart ends up messing with him and exerting his authority before going back to find Dolly again.

The maids end up dressing Dolly up and Hart and Dolly have a drink, with Dolly mistakenly believing that he wants her to test the alcohol for poison, as it's likely that the duke views her as disposable (when in reality, Hart was trying to give Dolly the wine she's always wanted to try). Dolly gets pretty nervous around the Duke as she doesn't want to be thrown away or otherwise be fired as her job as a maid, so tries her best to meet with the Duke's demands to keep her job, and the two end up sleeping in the same bed at night (and the Duke supposedly jacking off to her sleeping form). The next day, Hart disguises himself as a knight and brings Dolly to a boutique to buy her a bunch of dresses. The story ends so far with Dolly and Hart waiting for some street yams, while Dolly chases after someone to try to return their stopwatch to them.

As everyone knows, I'm a sucker for really cute yandere guys and Hart is adorable. He fawns over Dolly a lot and is really delusional at the idea that she and him are actually going on dates when he's in ghost form and is so happy to have a body that he immediately attempts to try to give Dolly everything she could ever ask for along with trying to give her things that he knows that she wants to try but isn't able to as her status as a maid. The way he fawns over her is just really cute and he wants to spend all of his time with her. An obsessive fanboy stalker type, at least when he was a ghost. It is kind of weird to think about since he has been just stuck to this mansion for like 100 years, so does that mean he's a 100 years old, and if so why does he have the mentality of like a younger guy. It's a bit weird to think about since he's technically like way older than her. Maybe they'll explain it later, like why Anders looks exactly like him physically. Does make me wonder where Anders went off to, did he turn into a ghost and swap places with Hart? That's kind of funny to think about. Currently, he doesn't seem to be very dangerous, but there are signs of it like how he didn't care that Anders got poisoned (mostly because he insulted Dolly), he has threatened the butler and made him bark (literally) and I think for sure would throw arms at anyone who hurt or was mean to Dolly. Currently though, he's more obsessive and doting, generally sweet to Dolly.

Dolly herself I feel like is put in a pretty bad situation. I think as a maid she is very competent and does her work well, but she's kind of forced out of her comfort zone to pretend to be Anders's lover. What makes it worse is because Anders is originally a playboy, she kind of is expecting that he's going to throw her away and can't really develop any genuine feelings because of it. I kind of feel bad for her since Hart is basically forcing his authority onto her just so that she can be with him and she just has to play along in hopes that she doesn't get fired. She feels very awkward with the gifts and dresses she has and can't even enjoy it because she believes that eventually the duke will just move on from her. Pretty terrible position to be in honestly, especially since it must feel weird for the maids to bathe and dress her when she's usually the one that has to do it. I do understand why the Duke is hesitant to reveal who he really is since I think Dolly would be kind of confused at the idea that a 100 year old spirit who took over his look alike would like her (and has been following her around for 5 years), but currently in the situation she's in, Dolly just really has her hands tied. I hope she's able to resume back to her maid position though since she seems like she's a very good maid.

If you like cute yanderes like I do, this one is a good read. It's pretty unfortunate that it's short, but it does have a unique point of view relating to the maids and the duke rather than what it usually is, which is a villainess character or the heroine. I hope we get to see Hart more as a yandere, both doting and otherwise.

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

I’m an OG fan. I ship L/H but how ships are meant to be - your fave pairing, fun, fantasy, fandom activity, not something to discuss publicly much less with the celebs - but I never interacted much in fandom bc I disliked the bizarre obsession with ships being “real”. The “truth” of their sex/love lives is none of our business & was never their value to me. (i’d be much more interested in the truth about their friendships/coworker dynamics but we’ll never get it.) I drifted from the fandom when they went solo bc I saw how Harry was “Timberlake’ing”. No one seemed to see how calculated & ruthlessly ambitious he is, vapid, & fame obsessed. how he only befriends/dates rich, well-connected people. It’s refreshing to learn that blogs like yours exist - that people see him & see what he did to the other guys. Zayn, Louis, Liam - were all at times villainized and scapegoated while he’s treated like a naive princess who can do no wrong. His interviews are so pointless bc he never answers anything honestly. he’d never admit to being a cokehead who purposely deceived & fucked over the others to make sure he could launch his solo career without competition. Zayn tried to outmaneuver him but didn’t have the powerful team behind him & has too much integrity to ever be the kind of “star” Harry is. tbh I enjoy how much it irks harry that Zayn sees through him. It’s wild how sincere the others stayed, how they matured, how they have bigger priorities than money or fame. Harry mimicked Louis’ personality when they were younger, pretending he couldn’t wait to have kids & marry - when really he just wanted to be as rich, promiscuous, and famous as humanly possible. He bootlicks anyone in showbiz, so he has a glowing reputation in the industry - it’s laughable. “TPWK” unless it’s your bandmates who you can’t deign to acknowledge unless it benefits you - hosting SNL or winning an award? ok, mention the band so you get headlines. But like one of their promo posts or even follow them back on IG? heaven forbid, bc that won’t benefit him more than them. It shows his true character that he’s SO successful but still won’t be openly supportive or even seen with them. I don’t think he’s evil but I do think he’s lost to the industry… which is sad, bc there’s once a lot of sweetness there. His eyes have lost their sparkle; he traded it for “success”.

Hi anon,

I was reading this ask and nodding my head right along each sentence. A lot to unpack here, but mostly you’ve said everything I’ve tried to say. I’m not sure if anyone is listening, to be honest! Like you wrote, blogs who don’t worship Harry never become popular. So here I am talking to the air lol. Insanity.

I don’t think Harry is evil either. I think he realizes the trade-offs now, watching his ex-bandmates’ careers slowly build with intentions very different from his, their old ties fading to nothing except when tragedy yokes them back together. He has gazillions in wealth, industry kissing his feet, a lot of women (+ a few men) fantasizing about him, but nothing inside, the lights gone from his eyes years ago. It must feel awkward to stand next to his bandmates again?

Here’s the thing. I’m sure in every circumstance, forever for the foreseeable future, Louis is always going to be the bigger man and speak well of Harry. No matter how many times Louis refutes the idea of Larry, Louis has always said he’s proud of Harry, and I am sure he means it. 100%. No matter what Harry says or does, Louis considers him part of One Direction, his band, and that concept is sacrosanct to him. “We move as one.”

What Louis has in his heart is worth a million Manchester Co-ops. It is priceless. No one can take it away— no Kardashian money, no Rolling Stone cover, no Anna Wintour, no A-list actress or acting role. Nothing. What Louis has is the feeling of loyalty and unity that is the epitome of the song he wrote, Strong. “I don’t care, I’m not scared of love.” It’s not romantic love, at least not anymore, but what Louis describes in Only The Brave— the love that comes from the deepest pain, from uncomfortable truths, alienation, grief— broken beaks and dead birds— the love that requires moral courage. “Because love is only for the brave.” Louis earned it by going through fire, the love that endures because he chose to respect it, intentionally, over all the other things.

Last, Zayn’s intentionality is also transparent for those who open their eyes and see. I’m glad to see that Zayn is touring, and choosing to play the same smaller venues as Louis when he first started his tour. I’m also glad to see Louis communicating via social media. It’s not actual friendship, but a step! It means so much.

Louis and Zayn aren’t perfect people— far from it— but they chose to stay grounded and chose to preserve some part of their humanity. I know they haven’t always been their best selves. But who they are, especially who Louis is, is so endearing, and so inspiring.

[ellewritesalright]

Second Best - Part 3

Nikolai Lantsov x reader

Part 2 --- Masterlist --- Part 4

A/N: Hello! Look at me with two updates in one month, who'd have thought? Buckle in for this one, it's twice as long as the last part. Once again, I hope it is coherent enough :) and again, I gave the mc reader a last name :)

Synopsis: When you were a child, the Lantsov king and queen arranged for their second son to marry you, a rich Ravkan noble family's only daughter. After many years, after all the destruction of the war, and after Nikolai was crowned king, Nikolai breaks off the engagement. But the complications of your past and your strict parents make it a nightmare to find a new fiance, so Nikolai promises to help you, yet he slowly realizes the mistake he's made.

Warnings: strict and low-key abusive parents, very slight self-image issues because of said parents, mentions of illness and death, kinda confusing and purposefully ambiguous details that will be important later in the story (bear with me please), not 100% proofread

Word Count: 4670

..........

Being without a fiance was an unfortunate circumstance. All your life you had witnessed young women like you being paraded around in hopes that they would find suitors even richer than their families, but because the Antonovs had made their deal with the king and queen so long ago, you never had to participate in such dreadful activities. In the past month since your disbanded engagement, you had attended three large gatherings and hosted many more as your parents frantically searched for someone worthy enough to marry into the family.

As you wound down for the evening, feet killing you and your head a bit buzzed from all the wine of another party, you slunk over to your vanity. After removing your makeup, you reached into the top drawer, trailing your fingers across its ceiling where you'd tacked a letter. It had arrived in the morning, after breakfast when you were by yourself in the library. But you'd yet to read it, too busy with your parents' antics to hide away and comb through the words. With a brief admiration of the double-eagle seal, you grabbed your letter opener and cut it open. 

The handwriting was long and there were lovely loops in the 'p's and 'g's; you smiled to yourself as your eyes followed their rounded paths. Nikolai was always perfectly composed, and so were his letters. This was the third one you'd received, and he wrote of more possible suitors for you. There were some more details about his day-to-day in response to a few light-hearted queries you had posed in your last response. When he asked for embellishment on your ideas of mechanical updates at your family's estate you were so eager to start drafting your response that you almost tipped over your ink canister.

He had also requested that you assess the suitors recommended in his previous letter, and you frowned as you rated them. 

Each one was well-bred and richer than the last, but none felt right. There was always something wrong with them, like wandering eyes, or a terrible way of spitting when speaking, or one suitor who had kissed your hand so sloppily you thought a hickey would form. They were all unattractive in their own ways, and you wrote as much in your letter to the king. In your closing, you made sure to thank him again for looking out for you. It was too kind of him. 

At the end of this most recent letter, he said that he enjoyed playing matchmaker. Apparently, it was a brief and welcome reprieve from the hard topics of war and politics. If he wasn't exaggerating this fact, your thanks would likely mean nothing to him, but you thanked him nonetheless.

You grazed a finger across his signature at the bottom of his letter. Yours truly, Nikolai.

If your hand had not reached up to your mouth in a moment of contemplation, you might have missed the smile that etched itself onto your lips, but the shape of it was unmistakable beneath your touch. You banished that smile and went to bed, trying to banish Nikolai from your mind as well, but finding it more than a little difficult. The swooping lettering of Yours truly was printed on the inside of your eyelids.

……….

“How did you enjoy the first act of the ballet, Lord and Lady Antonov?”

Your head twisted around to see Nikolai standing at the doorway to your family’s opera box. Your father politely stood from his seat and bowed to the king while you and your mother bowed your heads. You softly grinned at Nikolai, keeping your excitement measured in front of your parents.

“It was overdone,” your mother replied.

“Quite,” nodded your father.

“I think it is rather lovely so far,” Nikolai said. He looked at you. “And your thoughts, my lady?”

You looked up at your friend. “I think it is overdone, yet charmingly so. I rather enjoyed the dance with the foxes; the dancers all moved remarkably like canines."

Nikolai grinned and nodded. "That has also been my favourite part so far."

"And the sets are just magnificent."

"Aren't they?"

You both smiled at one another for a moment. A moment that was broken by your father clearing his throat. 

"What brings you to our box, your highness?" Your father asked.

Nikolai looked over at him, smiling politely. "I was actually coming to introduce a friend of mine to your family." Nikolai gestured to the door, and you noticed a man about ten years your senior standing there that you hadn't noticed when Nikolai walked in. "This is Lord Alexei Alianovic. Alexei, this is Lord and Lady Antonov and their daughter." 

Lord Alexei bowed to you and your parents. "It is a pleasure to meet you, lord and Lady Antonov." He smiled at you. "And you, my lady. His highness has told me much about you."

"All good things I hope," you said with a gentle expression as you glanced between him and Nikolai. The king had a small smirk on his lips as he looked back at you.

"Quite," Alexei nodded.

"Alianovic? You're Lord Dmitri Alianovic's son?" Your father asked him.

"I am, sir."

Your mother looked pleased, which couldn't bode well for you.

Your mind quickly cycled through everything you knew about the Alianovics, trying to find something wrong. The Alianovics were wardens of a large stretch of southern Ravka. But Lord Dmitri was rather old and would likely die in a short manner of years, leaving his entire estate to his heir, Alexei. The Alianovics were an old and reputable Ravkan family too, with a few blood ties to the royal family from many decades back; Alexei would be Nikolai's very distant cousin, then.

Looking between him and Nikolai again, you could see no resemblance. Not in hair colour, eye colour, face shape, bone structure, or even stature. Lord Alexei was tall and lanky, with chestnut hair and dark brown eyes and a charming mustache. Nikolai was also younger by about ten years. Still, Alexei was decently handsome for a suitor.

While lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice how your parents had seemed to step closer to Alexei like a pair of vultures.

"I should give my condolences for your loss, Lord Alexei," your father suddenly said. You didn't like the calculation in his brow. "What a terrible thing it is to lose the person you love."

Alexei's expression drooped a bit. "Thank you, lord Antonov."

"It is a great tragedy that your daughter will grow up without her mother," Lady Antonov said to him. 

That's rich, coming from you, you thought to yourself as you held back a scoff.

You looked between your parents and Alexei, who was growing paler by the second. Now that they mentioned it, you remembered that the Alianovic heir was a young widower with a little daughter. His wife had died in some horrible horse riding accident.

"Ana is too young to know any different," Alexei said sadly. "Though sometimes it seems like she misses her mother."

You somberly clasped your hands together and offered him a sympathetic look. Unlike your scheming parents, you truly did feel for him. 

"It can't be easy to raise a young child on your own, but I am sure you're giving her the best life you can," you smiled softly.

"I've seen him with little Ana; there is no father more attentive and caring than Alexei," Nikolai said. Alexei bowed his head a bit at the compliments.

"Ah, but what life is it for a young girl to live without a mother?" Lady Antonov spoke up again. You nearly glared at her blatant attempt at setting you on this poor man. "When I think of all the things I have taught my own daughter, I can't imagine a man ever understanding what it's like. My daughter knows how close a bond can grow between mothers and daughters--knows how important that relationship is--don't you, my dear?"

She cast you a look; a warning and a warm smile and a quick condescension all rolled into one.

You nodded, holding back the bitter taste that jumped into your throat. You tore your eyes from her to look over at Alexei again.

"I feel for your Ana in what she has lost." You expressed all your empathy as you spoke to him. "The pain of losing a mother is unimaginable… losing someone so important in life, especially as a child, isn't easy for anyone."

Your mother stiffened a touch. Your father did too.

"But you sound like an excellent father to Ana. You should be proud." You softly smiled at him.

Alexei nodded at your words. "Thank you, my lady. You are very kind."

"And you are very patient to have weathered my parents' barrage of questions."

Nikolai almost snorted at your joke. Your parents did not have the same reaction. For a brief second, you saw their anger; then they forced a laugh, playing off your words.

"You'll find our daughter is quite spirited at times, Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov commented. She was still saving face after you'd insulted her and your father.

"I don't mind it," Alexei chuckled quietly. "She has the same humour as my late wife did."

Your parents began engaging Alexei in a real conversation, and Nikolai took the moment to slowly step up beside you.

"Saints, your parent's methods are brutal," he murmured so only you could hear. "Your mother especially."

"Tell me about it." You restrain from rolling your eyes.

Nikolai let his volume grow just slightly as his words became innocuous again. "I'm going to the shore tomorrow."

"As in the shore of the true sea? How long will that take?" You raised a brow.

"My envoy will be gone for a full month. But I promise to write to you." He smiled then grew quiet again. "Can't leave you completely alone with these maniacs, now can I?"

You almost laughed.

Bells outside your opera box signaled that the show was about to continue, so Nikolai and Alexei took their leave. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully. At least, until you got into the carriage going home.

"It was good of that impish king to introduce you to Lord Alexei," Lady Antonov began. "He stands to inherit quite a large title from his father, you know."

You nodded then rested your head against the carriage's side wall. "I know, mother."

"Stop slouching," she huffed.

"It is just us three, mother."

"I don't care. You will sit up straight, you stubborn little girl." Her eyes were hard.

You glanced at your father beside you. You were searching for a shred of support from him since sometimes he would not leave you to fight her alone. But tonight he did not offer even a glance in your direction. He just stared boredly at the darkness outside his window.

Your eyes crossed to hers again. Your hand began itching as you sat up straight.

"That's better, daughter of mine." Her hands folded on her lap. "You nearly ruined things tonight."

"Ruined what? Lord Alexei liked me," you said, holding back an eye roll.

"You nearly told him. And the king."

You pursed your lips, scratching at a dotted scar on your knuckle. "I did not."

"You were quite close to it."

"I was not."

"You spoke of loss."

"So?" You sighed heavily. "I was sympathizing with Lord Alexei--and in case you didn't notice, he liked me better for it."

The carriage arrived home and you stepped out before the chauffeur could open the door for you. You hurried inside, heading upstairs to your suite rooms. But Lady Antonov was hot on your tails.

"Stop, dear," she commanded. 

You did not stop. You kept climbing the stairs. But she grabbed your arm before you could get inside your room.

"You're a little ingrate, girl, but fortunately you're still my daughter. And as my daughter, you will shut up and do what I tell you to do and say what I tell you to say."

Her hand tightened on your arm. Her voice was low, but sharp as a hound's bite.

"If I tell you to jump, you'd better be in the air. If I tell you to keep your mouth shut about your beginnings, you'd better sit silently with a pleasant smile on your face and remember how lucky you are to be where you are."

Her other hand went to grip your chin. You could feel her nails dig into your face ever so slightly.

"Do you understand me, daughter?" She hissed.

You nodded, and her grip tightened on your chin.

"I want to hear you say it, girl."

"I understand, mother." You grit out

She kept you locked there for a moment longer, then she let go of you. "Go to bed. You look unkempt."

You said nothing as you went into your room and shut the door behind you. You held it together until you got to your bed, then you fell apart. You clamped a hand over your mouth to staunch the sobs as tears poured over onto your cheeks. 

……….

A month passed by slowly. You were paraded around by your parents, your mother in particular, to every party and gathering among nobles and high-ups in Os Alta. Each outing was more miserable than the last. 

You would dance and drink, and dance and drink, and dance and drink, while your mother plotted conversations and chance encounters with any man she deemed suitable. She had a knack for finding the richest man in the room; no wonder she had married your father all those years ago.

Tonight was one such night like all the rest. Though tonight you promised yourself to abstain from drinking. The hangover after your last outing with your parents had confined you to your bed for half the day, and you needed to keep sharp for tomorrow. Nikolai was returning home from the western shore to a small celebratory dinner at the Grand Palace. He sent an invitation to you with your usual letters, though you could hardly describe them as usual. 

What started with Nikolai's quest to find you a suitor had developed into a weekly correspondence that did not stop even as he traveled the country on kingly duties. In fact, your most recent letters from him only contained a couple of names for you to consider. You had written that he must be giving up hope, and he replied that he was vetting potential husbands based on the critiques you had given so far–of which there were plenty to pull from, he mused.

Lady Antonov extended a glass of bubbly to you but you shook your head. She rolled her eyes and took your hand, wrapping your fingers around the stem of the glass

"Drink and socialize," she ordered.

"I have the king's dinner tomorrow, mother," you told her.

She suppressed a frown, lowering her voice in case she said anything treason-worthy. "I don't care about that lousy boy and his dinner. General Halinsky was good enough to invite us this evening and I won't have you sulking in the corner. Now, go make nice with all the soldiers. And look for a myriad of medals on their chests, dear. Don't settle for one or two."

With her instructions in your head, you walked about the room, slipping in and out of conversations with ease. The older men all wore many honourable medals pinned to their jackets, and the younger ones wore few. Conversation flowed better with the young men, while the older men spoke of things that had no bearing in your life. They laughed about old missions across the fold and complained about the decline of the nation. You tried to boost this perception, saying how you believed in the king's abilities, but they were quick to dismiss you.

"King Nikolai is too involved in the first army," the evening's host, General Halinsky, griped. "The old king used to leave the commanding to real commanders, but our boy king thinks he can boss us all around just because his daddy got him a few medals and promotions during his time as a soldier."

You took the opportunity to defend him. "His highness earned those promotions on the battlefield. He--"

"He made major by 17. I made major by 23. The boy obviously had help from his father."

"What an unfortunate and incorrect assumption on your part, General," you said with a bright smile, the kind of smile that these men expected to see from a young woman like you. "His highness got the promotion at 17 because he was obviously better at the job than you ever were."

You walked off after that, absorbing yourself in a discussion between two younger soldiers of the benefits of first and second army mingling. You sipped on your drink and politely smiled back at Halinsky anytime you felt his eyes driving into the side of your head. You upset the host, and your mother was guaranteed to be livid, but you couldn't care less. If defending Ravka's king made people upset, then maybe they deserved to be upset.

One of the young soldiers you were speaking to was laughing at your mediocre jokes with the fervour of a dog playing fetch. Only two medals were pinned to him, and you pitied his efforts in this losing battle. He seemed nice enough, but nice isn't a quality your mother would forgive two medals for. Rich would do better, but he lacked the obnoxious refinement to be truly wealthy. 

Your father permitted you to go home early after you sweetly lied and said you had a terrible headache. You didn't see your mother's face as you left, but you were sure she'd be furious. It was her thought that you were more salable when you were there to be paraded around. Without you present, any talks of you would be diminished.

Still, you were in no mood to stay.

By the time you were in your carriage travelling home, you felt exhausted. With a sour taste in your mouth, you thought about how this was yet another outing that proved unsuccessful. Not a single one of the men you'd met merited any sort of consideration.

While you normally would have written to Nikolai or read one of his letters after a night like this, you didn't have anything to write which couldn't be said to him at his dinner. You would speak with him then, and all would be right.

……….

Dinner was four courses of quick conversation and good-natured travel stories, and you enjoyed every second of it. You were sat with one-third of the Grisha triumvirate to your left and a West Ravkan captain Nikolai brought back with him on your right. You were one of the only guests not part of the first or second army, and you could count on one hand the number of guests middle-aged or older. It was a young and well-versed group Nikolai pulled together.

As the king and one of his long-time first army friends recalled an embarrassing moment in their training to the eager ears of a heartrender and several first army soldiers, you turned to David, asking him about his recent work. He had your complete attention as he described a sort-of rocket launcher that was meant to couple with an inferni’s abilities.

The captain on your other side joined your conversation at this point, and he maintained a puzzled look in his eyes as he tried to figure out the schematics of David’s new contraption. You had to admit, the captain was easy on the eyes, with a decent jawline and an endearing batch of freckles on his face. You suspected that Nikolai didn't have a singular focus of politics when bringing him to Os Alta. Based on your limited conversation over dinner, the captain met all of your criteria thus far; he was handsome, conversational, and he had a sweet disposition that hadn't been spoiled by the hardship he'd endured in war.

Though you still had to wonder what kind of financial situation he was in; your mother considered anyone with less than two villas a pauper, so she had high standards when it came to the wealth of a suitor. You doubted that whatever amount of wealth the captain had would suffice.

Some of the Grisha returned to the Little Palace after dinner, but most of the guests stuck around. Those who remained were directed to the drawing room after dinner, and you followed after the group, slowing your steps as you travelled through the gallery. Your eyes wandered the portraits and landscapes, closely following every brushstroke. 

You halted completely when you looked up at a picture of the royal family. In this depiction, Nikolai was about the same age as he was when you first met him. A frown encroached on your lips as you stared at the oil painting. To think you might have married him. You might have walked past this painting for the rest of your life, but you let your resentment at your parents bubble over and you sided against them in the argument of your engagement. Now it didn't look like you would find anyone to marry. 

"You'd better hurry or the brandy will be gone," Nikolai said as he sidled up beside you, a good-natured smile on his lips.

"Then it's good I'm not known to drink brandy."

He grinned. “So you’ve chosen to admire the gallery, then?”

“Correct,” you said as you pointed at a painting of a harbour. “I don’t understand how artists do it. How they can commit the real world to canvas like that.”

“You’re quite the artist yourself,” he said with a small smirk. You gave him a confused look and he chuckled again. “That drawing that you sent with your second last letter? Of the stuffed bear you had as a child?”

You rolled your eyes. “I only drew that because you expressly commanded a sketch of him after I briefly mentioned him in a letter."

“Well, I wished to know what this beloved bear looked like,” he playfully defended. “You can’t blame me for that. Besides, it was a lovely drawing.”

“That sketch was abysmal; I’m no artist,” you sighed.

“I thought it was a perfectly charming drawing of… remind me of the bear’s name again?”

You huffed softly. “Viktor.”

“Yes. Viktor.”

"I called him Vik."

“And who gave you Vik?”

“A friend,” you answered truthfully, despite how much you knew you should lie.

“A friend,” echoed Nikolai. “Was he a brown bear?”

“No, he was grey.”

“Grey? That is rather unusual,” he grinned. “And, let me guess, you were so attached to Vik that you took him all the way with you to Ketterdam and back as a little travel companion."

Your heart raced. You shouldn’t be telling him more about this. You sighed and scratched the back of your hand. The tiny dotted scar on your knuckle itched like nothing else as your thumb soothed over it.

"Actually, no. We parted ways many years ago when I was five. Firepox spread through our household and I fell ill with it. Once it ran its course and I recovered my parents insisted that all my toys should be burned for risk of future infection."

He frowned softly. "That's too bad."

"It is," you admitted quietly.

A moment of quiet settled in the tall gallery as you both stood there. It was a sad memory you’d just divulged, and a memory that your parents would rake you across the coals for if they knew you’d told him. Still, a part of you was glad to tell him that. You rarely thought about the artifacts of your childhood, let alone voiced their ghostly memories.

Nikolai turned to face the painting nearest to you both. His eyes softened on the portrait of his family. 

"That was the last portrait ever painted of my family all together like that. We sat for it only a couple of months before I left for school."

"That was around the same time we first met.”

“We met as infants, I believe,” he said, looking at you again.

You straightened out a bit. “Right. I suppose we did." 

"Our second meeting, then. Do you remember it?" He gave a charming smile.

You rolled your eyes at the memory. "How could I forget? Lady Antonov made me wear a frilly monstrosity of a dress. It was ghastly."

"I will concede that you looked a bit like a puff pastry," he chuckled. His eyes scanned over the deep purple gown you wore now. "You seem to have developed a better sense of style since then; your gown this evening is quite lovely."

"Thank you," you said softly. Your hands clasped together again as you scratched at the apex of your first knuckle. "If I remember correctly, you barely spoke to me when we met all those years ago."

"I was fourteen, I probably didn't have much to say anyway," he shrugged.

"I don't believe that for a second."

Nikolai stared at you for a moment. It was hard to say if it was his kingly presence or the softness of his hazel eyes that had your chest constricting a bit.

"You want the truth?" He quietly asked, a tiny smile playing on his lips.

"Yes,” you nodded.

"I was afraid to make a fool of myself in front of you. I figured that the less I said, the less I could mess up."

He sounded like a boy as he spoke. His voice was vulnerable and young at that moment, a stark contrast to his broad, regal frame. Outwardly, he presented as a proud and strong figure, but on the inside, there was a youth and inexperience to his words.

"I was always afraid of messing up too. My parents were so insistent about our engagement. To them, I had to be perfect to keep our engagement intact," you quietly confessed. "If I knew we wouldn't end up married I would have stopped trying to be perfect for them a long time ago."

He pursed his lips as his eyes flitted to your hands for a second. You forced your itching fingers to be still, clamping them over your irritated skin.

"I'm sorry for any discomfort you might have endured from your parents since I broke it off. It can't be easy for you."

"I'm used to it." You gave a wry smile. Then you attempted a joke, “Finding a new fiancee is considerably harder than I thought, though.”

“So I've heard,” he chuckled slightly.

“Maybe my expectations are too high, but every suitor is too much of one thing, not enough of another. It’s an impossible task.”

“I take it that you weren’t charmed by Captain Balandin, then?”

You sighed. “He’s better than most. Kinder, younger, and more handsome than the men my mother pushes me towards, but I don’t know if he’s eligible.”

“He is single if you’re concerned,” Nikolai said as he furrowed his brows.

You shifted on your feet a bit as your face warmed. “This is going to sound incredibly greedy, but is he two villas kind of rich?”

“Two villas? Saints, no. The man is a soldier. He has a modest house in Os Kervo and a less modest apartment here in Os Alta. Otherwise, he travels around with the army.”

“Then my parents would never approve.” You let out an exhale. “Things are looking bleaker, Nikolai.”

“Don’t despair. You’re young, beautiful, clever, and you have an incredible fortune to your name,” he said half jokingly. “I am sure that there are plenty of suitors who meet your lengthy list of requirements.” 

“Really? Where?” you groaned softly. You smiled slightly at him, glancing at the other end of the gallery. “I think I'll take that brandy now."

He offered you his arm and escorted you back to the other guests.

..........

A/N: Thanks for reading! Feel free to like, reblog, and comment if you want to read more, I really appreciate the feedback! If you want to be tagged in the other parts of this series or to be added to the Nikolai taglist please comment on this part or send me an ask. Otherwise, I hope you have a great day/night :)

Masterlist --- Part 4

Taglist:

@xceafh @rhaenyrakryze @thecrowsgambit @nghtwngs @hauntedenthusiasttragedy @stuffyownswrld @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @iwantmyredvelvetcupcake @angie-likes-to-read @take-me-to-ny @historianthesecond @lunamadhatter99 @lareinaa007 @folklorde24 @a-candle-maker @elicheel @charmingpatronus

Nikolai Taglist:

@sweet0pia-uwu @notoakay @naushtheaspiringauthor @liter4ti @marchingicenotes7 @eyeofthestorm

[stardust-swan]

Moroccan Spells for Beauty and Love ❤️🌹💋

Some of these are still practiced today, while others were practiced 100+ years ago. This post is for entertainment and educational purposes only. Although some spells are suitable for home use, most should not be attempted for both legal and health and safety reasons and are only included for historical interest. Post compiled mainly from Pratiques des Harems Marocains and Essai de Folklore Marocain.

Beauty

🌹Leave an agate stone in rosewater overnight and then pass it through incense smoke. Wear it as jewellery. This increases your natural charm and protects you from envy. To keep it charged, soak it in rosewater under the moonlight on the night of a full moon.

🌹To make your skin beautiful, light a white candle and mix 1 cup rosewater and 1 cup milk in a bowl, slowly stirring together. Add in a handful of rose petals if desired. Stand in the bath and pour over your body starting at the head and working downwards. As you pour, recite an incantation for however you want your skin to look (e.g brighter, smoother, more even, etc). Let it sit on your skin for a few minutes while visualising the skin you want, and then rinse off with warm water. You must let your skin air-dry. Repeat once a week.

🌹Soak 2-3 strands of saffron in warm water for 30 mins, letting it turn golden. Apply to your face and hands and say, "Ya Rab, bless me with beauty like the saffron's gold, radiant and glowing." Leave it to absorb and recite the Qur'an or say Bismallah. Do once a week.

🌹 To have a beautiful voice: eat a nightingale's heart

🌹 To always be beautiful in the eyes of the man you love, repeat the following incantation every morning while washing your face:

I greet you, oh washed face, Favour, charm comes to you Sent by Lalla Fatima, daughter of the Prophet May charm fall on you Like dewdrops fall on broad beans.

🌹 For your child to be born with beautiful eyes, pregnant women should look at a gazelle. Drink a glass of water above the head of the gazelle for your child to be born loveable and kind.

🌹For your child to have thick eyebrows and long eyelashes, put kohl on their eyelashes and eyebrows from their seventh day until their fortieth day. This also helps them see very clearly and never have sore eyes.

🌹To stop hair falling out and make it grow as long as branches, make offerings of candles to the carob tree of Lalla Quadfa and hang your fallen hairs in its branches (to cure headaches and neuralgia, hang amulets and charms written on paper from the tree).

🌹To prevent aging: Pound ginger, cloves, nutmeg from the Sahara, and galangal root. Add oil or honey. Take two spoonfuls every morning and every evening.

🌹 To reduce the size of the breasts (1): Get up early in the morning; rub the breasts with salt, which you then throw into the well. As the salt melts, the breasts will shrink.

🌹To reduce the size of the breasts (2): Strike your chest seven times with the slippers of a young unmarried man.

🌹To increase the size of the breasts: Rub the breasts with beans, which are then thrown into a well, saying:

O beans, when you swell,

They too will swell...

🌹 Invoke the jnun Lalla Malika and Lalla Mira to increase your beauty and charm

Singlehood

🌹A young woman, widow or divorcee who nobody wants to marry should wash her face and hands with the first water that comes out of a newly dug well. She will immediately find someone to marry.

🌹In Rabat, to help find a husband, women visit the hidden marriage well on the beach near the Udayas casbah. Mixing water from the well with rosewater helps to change a woman's luck in finding a husband. You should then light a candle for the djinn, as they can prevent people from getting married. Afterwards, leave old underwear behind for a symbolic change in sexual fortune. There is also a shrine to the local saint Sidi Abouri there, which you may also use as an intermediary through which to ask God to change your luck.

🌹In Marrakech, young girls who do not marry are taken to the tomb of Lalla Oum Biied Saad: Madam the mother of white luck. It is a small wall surrounding a square of land in the district of Assouel, near the zaouia of Sidi Bel Abbès. The young girls comb and wash themselves next to the tomb and throw into this small enclosure their comb, their fallen hair and a piece of cloth torn from their clothes; in addition, they make an offering of light to the saint on Friday. They also go on pilgrimage for the same purpose to Moulay Ibrahim, near Tahannaout. They spend three nights near his tomb and on the third night, the saint makes them see in a dream the face of their future husband.

🌹Remedy against singleness: The girl or woman who wishes to marry will cut, in her chemise, a strip of cloth to her height, from head to toe. She will cut it into seven pieces and will enclose in each a little of the powder of the seven "male spices" pounded together. At night, when no one else passes in the street, she will place the seven strands of cloth in a night light lit on the threshold of her door, and, seven times in a row, she will repeat:

O my husband! Come to my house.

So that she will not be long in being asked to marry.

🌹 Take an old mill rope and burn it on a Friday. At the hour when the muezzin sings, the single woman, in a hurry to get married, passes a little of the ashes of the rope, in the middle of her chin and forehead, saying:

Allah is the greatest!

Celibacy falls...

Someone came to the door. (The husband.)

She repeats this three times, on her terrace, remains standing there until a man of her house, - father or brother, - returns from the mosque, Then she asks him:

Have you prayed?

According to custom, he answers:

We have prayed. Allah will complete.

But, in her soul, she says quietly: It is he who comes who will complete... And she goes to wash her face.

🌹 Write a talisman wishing for a soulmate, and hide it in the foliage of an olive or argan tree.

🌹 Special ink for written love spells: Gently warm rosewater and pour it over a few saffron threads. Strain and add the liquid to existing ink or mix up your own with alcohol and gum arabica.

🌹Light a candle, mixing henna and rosewater in a bowl. Think of your lover or the person you want to attract. Using a thin stick, brush or other applicator, write their name on your body with the henna, and other symbols of love like their initials, hearts or roses. As you apply it, recite incantations for their love and loyalty to be bound to you. As it dries, think about your desires and the special someone. When it dries and begins to crack, gently wash it off, visualising your intentions being released into the universe. Do this ritual on a new moon for the effect to be strongest.

🌹 Write the name of the person who you want to attract on a piece of paper. Alongside it, write either the Surah Al-Fatiha or Surah Ya-sin. Fold it and place it in a glass of water, reciting the chosen Qur'anic verse seven times, thinking about your intention to draw love or strengthen your relationship. Leave the glass in a quiet, safe place overnight, and drink the water in the glass in the morning. Repeat every Thursday.

🌹To get married: take a dead white dove fledgling, wheat grains, barley and flour. Recite prayers over the ingredients and meditate. Wrap the ingredients in a small white cloth or white towel and bury the next day. You will begin to get proposals.

Brides, weddings and marriage

🌹 To split a couple: take a black powder such as charcoal dust, burned incense ashes, or sulfur, a root, and turquoise or green tourmaline broken into pieces. Place the powder and root into a fireproof bowl and light the ingredients. Read the Surah Al Fatifa in reverse. As the smoke carries through the air, imagine the couple breaking apart. After you finish burning them, bury them near their home or in a location significant to the couple or scatter them somewhere they're sure to pass, like their front door. Bury the turquoise too, crushing into powder if you want, or else put them in a small pouch and hide in their home. Repeat twice, "I am [your name]... Within this spell lies the power of [the name of the one you desire]." Do this on a Tuesday or when the moon is waning. Invoke Aisha Qandisha if you are a follower of her. Burn incense to cleanse negative energy afterwards, and perform a protective spell before. Use salt or burn rue to ward off negative energy.

🌹 To give the appearance of virginity to a bride deflorated before her wedding: Pound gallnuts, alum and the "mouth of a pomegranate". The matron sprinkles it on the bride, where appropriate. This remedy only works if she is still very young. For those who are nubile, there is no remedy.

🌹In order that the husband may always be in love, an amulet is made with seven dates, seven leaves of seven fruit trees and basil and sewn into a mattress. This will also bring abundance into the house. It is for the same reason that dates are thrown on the bride as she crosses the threshold of the wedding house. She is offered milk and her right heel is washed with it so that she may enter with wealth and abundance. Honey is put in her mouth so that she may be sweet to her husband. Yeast is put in her hand so that the good of her husband may prosper and increase.

🌹If on the first night of marriage, a taïmouma or black stone used for prayer and replacing the water of ritual ablutions is placed under the mattress of the bride and groom, their fate is linked to that of this stone, so that union will reign in the household, as long as the stone is whole.

🌹 Marriages must be consummated with the lights on, as the lights are a symbol of love and a happy life. The candles must not be extinguished; they are left to burn until the end so that the bride is always before her husband like a dazzling light.

🌹The visit of a sex worker to a young bride is a good omen; it means she will be loved. She must have her makeup, perfume and henna applied by the sex worker, for she has between her eyebrows seven magic flowers that affect love.

🌹 Autumn is the best time to get married, as due to her baraka (blessings), the bride will participate in the prosperity of the country by increasing the abundance of the harvest. The best day for consummating a marriage is Thursday; Sunday is also auspicious. The other days are all harmful and one only gets married on Thursdays and Sundays.

🌹 For the husband to remain faithful to his wife: When her husband is asleep, the wife places a lock of green silk on his lips. The next day, she has this lock buried in an old tomb of an unknown person.

🌹 Fidelity potion: Add a few drops of your urine to your lover's tea. Moroccan tea is typically made with large quantities of sugar and mint, easily disguising the few drops of urine that will ensure loyalty and docility. Just double check who gets which cup...

🌹To brink love back into a marriage, take pure musk, frankincense, mastic, sandarac, dragon's blood, myrrh of Abraham, incense, a dead hedgehog, a few bundles of feathers from a magpie or small bird of prey tied together with ribbon, and fenugreek seeds. Grind the resins and mix them together. Mix some of the fenugreek seeds into the mixture, saving some. Light the incense and wave the feathers through the smoke. Then wave the feathers over the other ingredients. Bury the hedgehog in front of the house or in the garden, as this defends the home from negative forces. Use the feathers to sprinkle the resin mixture around the home, in key areas like the doorway, near the bed, and on personal items belonging to your lover or that relate to your marriage (like wedding rings and photos). Anoint yourself with the musk (if desired you can also save some of the resin mixture to anoint yourself with too), and cook the fenugreek seeds in a meal you and your husband will eat. While you do this ritual, state your intention to remove blockages causing problems in the marriage, heal the relationship and bring love back to it. If you are a devotee of Lalla Mira you may invoke her.

🌹Moonfoam is highly prized in Moroccan witchcraft. As well as ensuring the fidelity of a husband or lover, it instills mad passion for whoever uses it, cures and prevents impotence, and repairs both male and female fertility. To make it, you must approach the cemetery gates on a new moon, strip naked, fill a basin or pitcher with water and place it under the moonlight, and mount an oleander branch, "galloping" around the cemetery seven times while chanting a special incantation (this incantation is a well kept secret, so you must either find an old wise witch to apprentice yourself to, or improvise). If you do this correctly, you will have attracted the attention of the moon's lunar guardians, and as you make your seventh circle around the cemetery, a lunar spirit will manifest and ask you to reveal your desire. You must tell her you want moonfoam. You will have to negotiate with her and make various offers, as she will be reluctant to give it to you. If you are successful, the moon will literally drop down into your water. Eventually the water will contain visible silver foam. Strain it off carefully, like oil from water or scum from soup. Take it home and reserve for future use.

🌹 To find or maintain true love, fill a small bag with earth from a three-way crossroads and wear it around your neck. This also wards off the evil eye.

🌹Love refreshing recipe, for a troubled relationship: take 6 red candles, rosemary, anise seeds, rosewater, black twine, a lump of rock salt and a nail. Place the candles in a circle in pairs in the bedroom, near the bed or a photo of the couple, with the rock salt in a bowl in the middle. Light the candles and state your intention for your love to be rekindled. Let the candles burn down as you sprinkle the herbs under the bed and near the doorway of the house. Sprinkle some rosewater on the bed linens. Use the twine to tie a knot around something that represents the couple like a photo, or to bind some objects belonging to each person together, and keep it somewhere safe like a bedside drawer. Drive the nail into the ground outside the doorway. Dissolve the rock salt in water and sprinkle it around the house to purify it.

🌹To bring back a cheating spouse, collect some of his clothes or semen and give them to a witch doctor (unfortunately there was no more information than this in my source, I would have liked to have found out what steps the witch doctor would take after receiving the artifacts)

🌹 Khamsa for love protection: Light frankincense incense and let the smell fill up the room, as this clears negative energy and wards off the evil eye. Take a small piece of paper, writing down the name of your partner or desired partner, along with a simple wish to protected, such as "bound by love, protected from harm." Fold the paper and wrap with a red ribbon. Take a khamsa charm (hand of Fatima) and pass it through the incense smoke three times, reciting an intention for love and protection. Place the paper in a hidden place somewhere close to you and your partner. Wear the khamsa or keep it in your home attached to the paper to protect your relationship. If you feel your relationship is in danger in the future, light the incense again and pass the khamsa through the smoke while reciting an incantation.

🌹To make your husband docile: Go to the cemetery at night, dig up a recently buried corpse, sit it on your knees and, taking its hands, make it knead a loaf of bread. As soon as the husband has eaten this bread, he will become, in his wife's arms, as docile as the dead.

Getting over heartbreak

🌹To forget an ex-boyfriend, wear trinkets and wear a skirt that allows smoke to flow up it (awakening sexual energy), then tap your ex on the shoulder. After you run away from him, wash with water that has been blessed or collected from a sacred site, and anoint yourself with copal resin. You will find a new man soon, which will help you forget the old one fast.

🌹Mix soil with saffron and rub it over your heart or third eye to unclog them from bad relationships.

🌹 Take wheat dust from the grinding of wheat, mix it with water and divide into two parts. Take care not to spill any; if you do you must find new wheat dust. Use one half to clean your house and dispose of it; take a bath with the other half. After the bath, bring a bouquet of fresh herbs and place in the middle of the house as an offering. This breaks curses, enchantments, and toxic relationships.

[freefallfiction]

File: Criminal Minds masterlist

Last Reviewed: 10/01/2024

Originally posted by tinywolfcoffee

rules No Pedoph!l!c Content No Minor Interaction Send Requests Through The 'Asks' Channel Fem!Reader Unless Requested Otherwise Don't Like Don't Read Mind The Warnings Have Fun

S. Reid

Pendulum

Claire knew she was different; in fact, it was one of the first things she really had to learn. Before that though, she simply thought the people she interacted with where disproportionally stupid. It was only after she realized she unnerved those around her, setting off alarms of warning of preservation, did she realize how special she was. Comparatively, it took Spencer Reid 1.39 seconds. (alternatively named 100 days of Claire)

prologue -Here! The Labrynth -Coming Soon! The Mirror -To Be Determined

United In Grief

How long can two hurting people hold on with only love keeping them together?

Late Night Concessions

Someone broke into your place; it was just past midnight and the rain was near deafening, but you were sure that was the sound of your front door window being shattered. With your phone on silent and Spencer’s number already dialed, you can only hope they’re here for your purse and tv and not the hiding girl beneath the bed.

Re-Run Special

Spencer finds love with a genius hedonistic girl who turns his world upside down, but their clash of personalities can leave him feeling a little left behind.

Play Your Cards Right

Y/n always loved Yu-Gi-Oh. From watching the show as a kid to trading and playing the card game, it’s always been a part of her life-- she should have known her boyfriend would try to learn it for her.

Coffee, My Secret Admirer

He had been wanting to try out the coffee shop on west and third for a while now, and he finally had the chance. He never thought he’d be caught up in a romance when a beautiful girl hopped over the counter and took his order, nor did he think they’d turn into not-so-secret admirers of one another.

Scale of Mental Stability

When a string of murders pick off where a long-arrested serial killer left off, the FBI’s first stop is the children of the cursed family. The problem? The only person who hates the man more than the son they arrested, is the daughter who’s out for blood.

My Hermes (Sending Me Letters From Above)

A coincidental meeting years ago leaves Spencer enthralled by a voice heard in the most unfortunate of circumstances. Y/n couldn't forget the man who gave her the best gift of all, the phone call of a lifetime.

The Seven Stages Of Loving You

A seven part series where Spencer falls in love with the BAU’s CI, or, Spencer finds out just how hard it is to build a future with someone constantly attacked by their past.

Absquatulate

Years had passed. Cases opened and closed, books were written and sold, the world spun and spun until... until it didn’t. The world kept moving until three am on Halloween night-- six shots of whiskey deep-- the world crashed down. 

A. Hotch

Last Man Standing

No matter what it takes, even as bodies fall all around him and blood paints the streets, he will come home to you.

Just Like The Movies

It was a rare sight even before what will henceforth be known only as 'the incident' for Aarons smile to stretch so wide his eyes crinkled in a boyish manner that everyone believed was lost to time. It must have been a miracle.

The Egg Crusher

Serial killers in their own backyard had a tendency to start fires within the team that burn hotter than usual; one targeting pregnant women was practically begging them to shut him down. Aaron had begged her to take off work and finally start maternity leave. The worst part was she listened; the constant messages to his work email that set of ‘nesting’ alarms in his head had him convinced she had dived head first into it. Then he gets one signed off with the hidden moniker used when one of them gets themselves in trouble.

D. Morgan

Where You Go (I Wanna Go With You)

Derek always believed the job came first; complete the mission however he needed to for the case to close and the rest was simply collateral damage. Even now, when all is said and done, he couldn't say when his priorities shifted.

Where You Go (I Go)

Derek knew what it meant to be a great soldier. He knew how to follow all the rules and take initiative when appropriate; he’d learned these things as a means of survival. Even if the country he serves has dwindled down to one person, he knows to do everything in his power to get to her till his dying breath. (a part two)

Domesticated

The people at work tried to be more encouraging than envious when her boyfriend insists on driving her to and from work some random Tuesday. The imposing figure the man struck was intimidating, yet they all called him her ‘doberman puppy’.

J. Gideon

The Heart

He thought he'd lost it forever; for years it had been pegged as just another thing the horrors of his profession had stolen from him, a risk his mind simply wouldn't allow him to take. He should have known the brain had no power over matters of the heart.

E. Prentiss

Dancing With The Stars

Maybe in another world, when Emily crossed the dimly lit ballroom with a cutting smile and wandering hand, she did it without the mic in her ear.

E. Greenway

Comfort, Come Forth, King Forge

It was a dangerous field; that was all anyone ever said- you're a small girl, they'll eat you alive. For years after the academy she was always a girl first agent second; then she met her.

D. Rossi

Bella, Ciao

He may have chosen the wild life, but his heart remained every faithful in her hands.

These Trembling Hands

He thought it might be over; similar fates have happened to men far more successful than he. A mission gone wrong and they're sent to recovery, a mandates psych eval that already is stamped 'denied' to send him into retirement. He never thought he'd last this long in the first place, and if the pretty psychiatrist was his parting present he'd be a fool to look the gifted horse in the eye.

P. Garcia

Something Lost, Something Gained

It was a gilded reassignment that brought the new liaison to the team; she was, perhaps, the only agent who loathed the idea of being tacked on to the BAU's list of revolving-door members. The Cyber Response Unit had been home ever since the academy, but a single misstep had started the spiral towards madness, better known as the Behavioral Analysis Unit. Hopefully there would be someone on the team that wouldn't inherently know every little secret which had been carefully tucked away.

[thefollow-spot]

hello you're the resident silmarillion fan out of my following list so I'm curious, how bad do you think the Rings of Power is as a Tolkien-world story compared to what was actually written in the book? Like, i get the feeling that the story is the kind of adaptation that would stand up really well on its own as a story if it weren't related to the source material at all?

I started the book (and by that I mean first chapter) years ago and never got to finish it, but i've been meaning to do it after seeing you reblog things about the story. I only saw like three episodes of TROP season two as my father (LOTR fan) watched it and i was laying on his couch sick, and he mentioned that he likes the way the story expands on some things such as how the rings came into being, he says that the book didn't really do that. But I've seen some people say that the show really deviates from the book almost to the point of scoffing at Tolkien's established world and plots. So, I think it's likely that i will watch the show and read the book at some point in time, but i wanted to know, is this a case in which i absolutely must read the book first before the show ruins it, and if so how hard do i need to hold onto my hat?

Hello!! I’m so flattered that I’m your resident Silmarillion fan, even though I’m sure there are more Qualified™️ Tolkien fans on this hellsite <3 And THANK YOU for asking me this; I would LOVE to share my thoughts! Full-disclosure: I’m a self-proclaimed recreational Rings of Power hater. Of course, none of this is really that serious and I bear no ill-will towards fans of the show + hope anyone who likes RoP is out there having the best time, but hating on The Rings of Power is like candy to me so I’m going to be sooo mean about it <3

The short answers are: IMO, Rings of Power is a blatant cash-grab, which reveals itself in every structural choice. It’s an abysmal adaptation, and I personally find it to be an uncompelling piece of original fantasy. I would 100% recommend you read The Silmarillion in general, and definitely before watching RoP!

As someone who loves The Silmarillion, please please please give the book another try, I am begging you!! If you absolutely must only read the relevant sections to RoP, “Akallabêth” and onward + the appendices to The Lord of the Rings are all you need (but you’ll be lacking some really compelling context). The Silmarillion is a book where you get out of it what you invest—the first time I read it, TBH I found it really dry, but the second time I read it, I absolutely fell in love.

I’m in love with Maedhros being the best of his family until he loses it all to grief; I’m in love with Fingon never forgetting how to love people despite always being left behind; I’m in love with Túrin being a damning examination of cultural alienation and queerness (even if Tolkien didn’t 100% know it). I am so so so in love with this book PLEASE try it again 😭

If you do end up watching The Rings of Power first, I feel I need to emphasize a non-exhaustive list of things to keep in mind:

RoP does Elrond a disservice by erasing his past as a child of war

RoP does Gil-galad a disservice of sidelining him when he should be a main character

RoP does Celebrimbor a disservice by depicting him as a stuffy older academic instead of as an ambitious artist clawing for esteem in the shadow of his bloodline being the most infamous noble house in Elvish history

RoP does Galadriel (and women) a disservice by aging her down several thousands of years and portraying her as emotional, unreasonable, and politically ineffectual instead of as celestial, war-sharpened, eldritchly wise, and so so so exhausted with Sauron’s bullshit

You can stop reading here, but if you want longer answers and ✨me being a recreational hater✨, it’s under the read-more:

Is The Rings of Power a good book adaptation of Tolkien’s Second Age?

No!! The Rings of Power is a financial asset owned by Amazon disguised as a television show! We can tell that the production is focused more on marketability than on artistic merit by looking at the character breakdown, plot structure, lore, and themes:

Tolkien’s works are vast in scope, therefore every age of Middle-earth has its own set of key players; a Second Age story should focus on Celebrimbor and Gil-galad, but RoP focuses on Elrond and Galadriel for no reason but name recognition (RoP producers, probably: “No casual LotR fan is gonna watch a show about a cast of randos they don’t know!”). As a result, they are NOT telling the story from the book(s) because they’ve pointed the camera away from the people who are actually doing anything in canon! They are making up plot and lore because the canon plot is unprofitable!!

The showrunners are adamant to give the Second Age the same thematic wash as Peter Jackson’s Third Age story even though the two periods are completely different (they go on and on in interviews and marketing material about it needing to feel like “Tolkien” but what they really mean is, ‘like the successful fantasy media franchise we’re corpse-robbing for nostalgia money’). The Second Age is a transitional period—the Third Age is practically post-apocalyptic. But these writers cannot do thematic textual interpretation beyond beating the Lord of the Rings movies to death and dragging its corpse around… which is actually a win for Amazon because woohoo, that makes these poor fuckers marketable!

If Amazon hired anyone who actually cared about the Second Age, they would have a less familiar property, therefore a difficult-to-market product; a Second Age story written by people who care about the Second Age would feel thematically different from the name they’re trying to capitalize on. I cannot stress enough how disappointing Rings of Power is as an adaptation of one of the most compelling and underexplored periods of Middle-earth history.

Is The Rings of Power a good fantasy TV show?

IMO, no! Because the producers greenlit a show written by two writers who are utterly incapable of doing their own thematic reading, the resulting product is what you get when you throw money at people with no artistic vision. I say this as someone who believes 100% in the value of poorly-crafted TV: I find Rings of Power to be tonally and structurally confused, inescapably derivative, and over-reliant on clichés. Maybe this is just because, as someone who knows anything about the Second Age, it also actively punishes me for knowing what I do but anywayyy.

They jammed a ‘whodunnit mystery’ format onto a fantasy epic, and write dialogue scenes with no stakes and little charm. The world is often lacking in whimsy or gravitas due to their CGI sets and underbudgeted costumes and hair design (RIP to the costume designer Kate Hawley, she’s done some fantastic stuff on productions that give her respect and resources). And every single person talks like Kilgharrah (RIP to the actors who are all putting in a valiant, earnest effort with the under-edited material and poor direction they’re being given). They advertised the show on diversity, yet underwrite their OCs of colour and disrespect their female characters. The best part of Season 1 was when Halbrand almost took his shirt off in the finale, but he didn’t even take his shirt off all the way so that was the worst disappointment of all 😔

Re: how the rings of power were made & does the show scoff at Tolkien’s lore?

It’s true that (at least according to the books I’ve read), there are no in-depth descriptions of the magic or silversmithing techniques used in the forging of the rings of power (but this is unsurprising, given that Tolkien’s magic system is soft-magic rather than hard-magic). In The Silmarillion and in the appendices to The Lord of the Rings, the important part isn’t so much how the rings were made, but why—the political circumstances surrounding their forging. I think it’s evidence that the writers don’t have a fucking clue what they’re doing that they’ve focused on the mechanics of smithing rather than the seduction of Celebrimbor.

The Rings of Power does more than scoff at Tolkien’s established world and plots—what it does is treat Tolkien’s writings as an outdated hindrance to their goal of telling the clumsiest, self-aggrandizing, resumé-padding television story known to modern audiences.

Okay, okay—I'll shut up now <3

As you can tell, I am unhinged about this topic LOL!! I hope I’ve answered your question, and if you DO decide to watch Rings of Power, I hope you have a better time than I did and wish you all my best <3 I’ll just be over here in the corner shaking my fist in RoP’s general direction, for enrichment 😌✌️

[susandsnell]

I LOVE YOUR POINTS ON THE EVER AFTER POST. YES YES YES.

Thank you so much friend! I am alas a person who forever has a lot of Fairy Tale And Folklore Thoughts™️ equally coupled with my feminist lens, and I find a lot of analysis tends to go into the black and white instead of accepting stories as reflections of cultural worldviews within the time/place from which they originate, for better and for worse, and that value can be gleaned as well as criticism can be made. Anyone who follows me knows I have a bee in my bonnet about the Let Women [in period pieces] Be Unapologetically Feminine brigade and their angry insistence that any feminist lens or challenging of the social mores of a period piece, classic, or otherwise historical work is anachronistic, and Actually We Loved Being Oppressed And Didn't Know To Complain And Nonconforming People Were Freaks and I do feel this way in my approach to fairy tales as well.

If you don't mind me getting a bit controversial, this is why the liberal feminist side of the backlash to Rachel Zegler's Snow White comments about her being afforded more agency and interiority than a film written nearly 100 years ago by white American men adapting a centuries-old fairy tale (the racist chuds were to be expected) was so disingenuous and disheartening. "why isn't it Empowering if a female character is kind and sweet and feminine despite her suffering and Lets Herself Be Rescued" do you hear yourself!!! that's what patriarchy still expects/demands of us!! While generic Girlbossing of fairy tales is annoying (and can have the subtext of victim blaming of the "why didn't you fight back" variety), it's not much better to be Ashamed Women Are So Simple and Actually The Men Were Right To Tell Us What To Do.

Perreault's (and to a lesser extent, Grimm's) Cinderella has a psychologically realistic response to abuse that a real person should never be shamed for, but likewise, she is a fictional figure meant to instruct (in the former case) upper class young ladies in pre-Revolutionary France that passivity is the peak of femininity, and it will be rewarded handsomely with a reprieve from mistreatment, as You Have Succeeded At Your Gender Role.

This isn't to say there isn't value in validating that Cinderella's response, but ideally there is just as much a place for Danielle punching her wicked stepsister in the face and pulling a sword on a libertine nobleman, as much space for Vasilisa the Beautiful to consort with Baba Yaga and (knowingly or unknowingly, it's unclear) burn her wicked stepfamily alive with witchfire and win her place in court through her talent at weaving, as there is for Branagh's Cinderella to, with quiet dignity, use forgiveness as a means to release the hold her abusers have on her to move forward to the happy life she's always deserved. Because even in the latter case, again a continuation of Perreault and Disney, the focus isn't on Cinderella's Moral Womanly Correctness, but on what's good for her, what helps Ella heal, and what a happily ever after looks like for Ella.

And that's the important thing - not whether or not Cinderella waves a sword or bows her head, but that the focus is on her interiority and agency, and not assigning a higher moral value to her response to abuse as The Correct Response, whatever such a response may be.

[dragon-kazansky]

Symphony of dreams

Morpheus x Female Reader

Death has one more gift for Dream. A friend. A human who will deny death and live forever. Finding the claim amusing, Dream agrees to meet with this man every hundred years to see if he still wishes to live. You had faith in this man.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Warnings: First couple meet-ups are straight from the episode. Then Dream brings you along. Have fun passing through the centuries with your husband 🤭

Chapter Seven - Hob

☆☆☆

1389

The first time Morpheus met Hob, he was with his sister. He had long hair back then. It was around that time he met you. He had left you in The Dreaming to meet with his dear sister, Death.

She had something she wanted to show him.

"Was the girl not enough?"

Death smiles.

"You will come to love her, I promise. No, this is someone different. While I granted your companion immortality so she may spend eternity with you," Dream rolled his eyes, "this case is different."

They head inside the tavern.

He was sitting at a table. Morpheus could hear him quite clearly.

"Look, I've seen death. I lost half my village to the Black Death. I fought under Buckingham in Burgundy. It's not like I don't know what death is. Death is... stupid."

Morpheus was intrigued.

"Novody has to die. The only reason people die is... is 'cause everyone does it. You all just go along with it. But not me. I've made up my mind. I'm not going to die."

The other men at the table laugh at him.

"Hobs, death comes for every man."

"You don't know that."

Dream looks at his sister.

"I might get lucky. There's always a first time."

Or second, in this case. Death had already given you such a gift so he would never be alone. How silly.

"There's so much to do, so many things to see. Women to swive. Ale to drink. People to drink with."

"Why would any sensible creature crave an eternity of this?" Dream asks Death.

"You could find out."

"How?"

I could grant him his wish."

He knew it. Another you. Perfect.

"Do that, and he will be begging for death within a century." Dream says, amused. He was waiting for you to grow board in his realm, if he was honest.

"This will prove very interesting," Death smiles.

They both look at Hob.

"Are you gonna tell him, or should I?" She asks.

"I shall." Dream smiles slightly.

Morpheus appraiches the table. Leaves him to it. This was going to be very interesting indeed.

"Did I hear you say you have no intention of ever dying?" Dream asks the human.

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, that's right."

"Then you must tell me what's it like. Let us meet here again, Robert Gadling. In this tavern of the White Horse in 100 years."

Dream looks up at his sister. She nods. He nods back.

"A hundred years' time, on this day?" Hob asks. Dream nods. "I will see you in the year of our Lord 1489, then." Hob smiles.

Dream walks away with a small smile.

Robert watches him go, confused.

☆☆☆

1489

"How did you know... that I'd still be here?" Hob asks, looking at the man he saw a hundred years ago. "Who are you? A wizard? A Saint? A demon?"

Dream looked at the other man.

"Have I made a bargain with the devil?"

"No."

"Then why aren't I dead long since?" Hob asks. "Is this kind of a game?"

"No game." Morpheus says, slightly amused. What he had with you had been a game of sorts. You won. In less than a hundred years in fact.

"But why? Who are you? Why are you here?"

"I'm here because I'm interested." Morpheus tells him.

"In me?"

"In your experience."

"What do I have to do?"

"Nothing. You love your life as you choose. Then, on this day, every 100 years, we will meet."

"Because you want to know what it's like."

A moment passes between them as Hob starts to understand.

"All right. I'll tell you what it's like."

Dream leans in slightly. He is so sure this man will beg for death.

"It's fucking brilliant."

That was unexpected.

"It's all changing."

"In what way?" Dream asks.

"Uh... Chimneys. Not having your eyes watering all the time from the smoke. And now we have these little cloth pieces for tour nose. In the old days, we just used our sleeves."

A man grunts from the next table over. He just lost a card game.

"Oh. And playing cards."

"What will you people think of next?" Dream says, not sounding too enthusiastic. He can almost hear your excitement, though.

"With any luck, something to get rid of fleas."

"But what have you been doing for the last hundred years?" Morpheus asks.

"Um... Same as before. Soldiering, mainly. A little banditry here and there if I couldn't find a war. Uh, but now, I've started in a new trade. It's called printing."

Morpheus looks at him. He's amused. "So you still want to live?"

"Oh, yes."

Dream stands. He looks at Hob.

"A hundred years then?"

"Oh, yes." Robert nods.

Morpheus leaves.

"You never told me who you are."

Dream does not answer.

☆☆☆

1589

"Who is he?" You ask. Your arm is looped with your husband's as you enter the tavern. It's been a while since you walked among the Waking World.

"A human who has no desire to die. Unless, of course, he has changed his mind this time."

"He is immortal?"

"Granted the same gift you were by my sister. You were given to me so I could love. This man is here so I can hear his experience."

You smile at Dream softly. "I see."

The pair of you pass a table where two men sit, one young than the other. He appears to be an admirer of the older gentleman. You only catch a glimpse of their conversation as you pass. Art and dreams.

It seems your husband heard too.

"My friend!"

You both look up to see a man sitting a table full of food. You look at Dream, who nods at you and takes you over to the table. He pulls out a chair for you and you sit down.

"Hello," the man says, looking at you.

"Hello."

Morpheus takes a seat beside you while the other man, who you presume is Hob, pours some wine.

"I didn't realise you were bringing a plus one."

"This is my wife," Morpheus states.

Hob looks surprised, yet amused. "Is that so?"

You offer him a smile in return.

"You've had good fortune, I take it?" Morpheus asks, getting straight to business.

"The gods have smiled on me as they smile on all England where no man is slave or bonds man."

Hob offers Dream some food. Dream doesn't take it.

"Let's see. Last we spoke, I was working for Billy Caxton. Made some gold from that. Put it to work in Henry Tudor's shipyards. I made a small pile. Then I went north for a year or so, came back as my son. Done that twice now."

Hob requests more wine from the girl nearby.

"When fat Henry had gone for the monasteries, I bought my estates, and a healthy gift of gold to the Crown saw to... a knighthood!"

You look between Morpheus and Hob. Your husband's expression does not change. He just sits there listening.

"That's not all. Here." Hob pulls out a framed painting. "My fair Eleanor and little Robyn. My first son born in over 200 years on this Earth, that I know of."

Hob chuckles softly. "It's funny. This is what I always dreamed Heaven would be like. Way back. It's safe to walk the streets. Enough food. Good wine. Life is so rich."

"God's wounds! If only I could write like you." You hear from behind you. To glance over your shoulder to see those two men you passed earlier.

The younger man is now standing and seemingly reciting a part of a play.

Dream is watching him.

You watch your husband quietly as you listen to man recite the play. People cheer when he finishes.

"I would give anything to have your gifts. To give dreams that would live long after I'm dead," the young man says to the other. "I would bargain like your Faustuas for that boon."

You smile softly.

He inspires to give others dreams. Now you understood why Dream was watching so intently.

"Who is he?" Morpheus asks, turning back to Hob.

"His name is Will Shaxberd. Acts a bit. Wrote a play." Hob explains.

"Is he good?"

"No, he's crap. Now, that chap next to him with the broken leg, he is a good playwright." Hob sees that Morpheus' attention is on the other table. "Anyway, I've saved the best bit for last. The Queen herself slept at my house this summer. That was expensive."

Morpheus holds his hand slightly to stop Hob from speaking. He then placed it on your shoulder as he rose from his chair. You watched him walk over to the other table. Morpheus began to speak with the other man, taking him away.

You turn back to Hob. He watches your husband walk away. You rise from the chair, his eyes flicker to you.

"Who is he?" He asks.

You simply smile and take your leave.

Until next time then.

☆☆☆

1689

You sit beside your husband, holding his hand. He smiles as you talk softly to him. He had grown his hair out again, and you were admiring how handsome he looked.

A ruckus had you turning away from him and looking up. Hob had been brought in looking worse for wear.

A hundred years ago, he had a fortune. Now he was without it.

"I knew you'd be here." Hob gulps from a goblet on the table and stuff his face with the food Morpheus had arranged for him. "Do you know how hungry a man can get? If he doesn't die, but he doesn't eat."

You glance up at Dream quietly. He's watching Hob.

"I lost it all. My land. My gold. My Eleanor. She died in childbirth. The baby, too."

You drop your gaze to the table. You couldn't even imagine losing Morpheus. You'd be beyond lost without him beside you.

"My boy, Robyn, died in a tavern brawl when he was 20. I didn't go out much after that. They tried to drown me as a witch. I'd lived there 40 years, overconfident. I got out with my skin a little more. And then it got worse. And worse and... worse. I've hated every second of the last 80 years, every bloody second, you know that?"

You look at Hob, still silently. Your husband gave nothing away beside you. You found yourself squeezing his arm a little bit for comfort.

"So do you still wish to live?" Dream asks.

Hob looks up at him, tears in his eyes. "Are you crazy?"

For a moment, Morpheus wonders. Has he finally changed his mind?

"Death is a mug's game. I got so much to love for," Hob says.

Morpheus' expression changes subtly. He looks... fascinated. Amused. Just slightly enough for you pick up on.

You smile softly.

Hob winks at you with a grin of his own.

All the while, you're all oblivious to the man upstairs sketching away.

☆☆☆

1789

"I heard something funny the other week," Hob says, sitting across from your husband. You were sitting between them at the small table.

"Bloke said to me, he said, 'If only the French nobles had played cricket with their men the way we do, they'd never have had this trouble.' You know, first the colonies, now France. You ask me, this country will be next for a revolution."

You listen to him talk.

"I've been salting my money away all over the world. Firet sign of trouble, I'll be out of here like that. In the meantime... I'm in the shipping business." Hob smiles proudly.

He had really come into himself again. Hob explains the business he's doing. You and Morpheus listen to him quietly. You narrow your eyes slightly as he explains. What they do does not sit right with you.

"Slavery?" You ask.

"It's a poor thing for one man to enslave another," Dream says, looking right at Hob.

Hob looks between you both. "It's just how it's done."

"I suggest you find yourself a different line of business, Robert Gadling," Morpheus says.

"You're giving me advice?" Hob sounds surprised. "After 400 years?"

"I would take it," you suggest. Hob glances at you.

"What happened to 'live your life as you choose?'" He asks.

"The choice is yours." Morpheus states. "But would you take that choice away from others?"

"I will consider your advice."

You smile at Hob. He looks pleased when he sees your approval. Your husband does not give him much, so when you show your approval, Hob takes it.

"I saw a production of King Lear yesterday," Hob changes the subject. "Mrs. Siddons as Gonreil. The idiots had given it a happy ending."

"That will not last. The great stories will always return to their original forms," Morpheus tells him.

"That lad, Will Shakespeare. He turned out to be a half-decent playwright after all." Hob smiles.

You glance at your husband with a small smile. Morpheus glances at you and then returns his gaze back to Hob.

"You made some kind of deal with him, didn't you?"

"Perhaps."

"What kind of deal? His soul?"

"Nothing so crude."

Hob chuckles. "Four hundred years now, I've been meeting you here, and there is so much I still don't know. Who are you? Truly? What's your name?"

Morpheus stares at him for a few moments. You almost think he's going to answer when someone comes down the steps and stands in front of your table.

The woman wears a long cloak, the hood pulled down.

"I might ask both of you that same question, gentlemen," she says. "Please, please, do not trouble yourselves to rise."

Two men join her.

"These are Michael and Tobias. Smugglers by trade. Although, they're only too glad to augment their earnings by slotting throats. If you move, they'll slit yours."

You glance at the two rugged men.

"They tell of a tale in these London parts that the Devil and the Wanderkng Jew meet once every century in a tavern."

Your companions glance at each other as she speaks. The woman then pulls out a sketch, dated a century ago.

"Is that meant to be me?" Hob asks. "Oh, I look terrible. You look worse," he jokes with Morpheus. You chuckle softly.

"You return to this pub every 100 years, striking bargains with men, sharing gifts, immortality, which you will now share with me." She says, looking right at your husband.

You feel your jaw clench slightly.

Jealously was not a colour you were used to.

"Well, have you nothing to say?"

"I am no Devil," Dream says.

"And I'm not Jewish," Hob adds.

"Fine. What manner of creatures are you then?" She asks.

"Who wants to know?" Hob asks back.

"I'm Lady Johanna Constantine. You will both follow me, sirs. My coach is without. I can see there is much you can tell me. So much I can learn."

"No."

You glance at your husband. He is staring at her with his ever stoic expression. He is so calm, so unworried.

You do not worry either. You know he will not let anything happen to either you or Hob.

"No, I think not."

Johanna allows the two henchmen forward with their knives drawn. You can not help but look to your husband in slight concern. One knife is pointed at Morpheus, the other right at Hob.

"Get up," one of them says.

The next moment, Hob throw tea up into one of their faces and smashes the cup into the head of the other.

Morpheus watches him. He does not move except to reach for your hand.

As Hob moves over to Constantine, she draws a knife of her own at him. Morpheus let's go of your hand and stands.

"Wait."

You watch as he pulls sand from his pocket and blows it at Constantine. She drops her knife and falls to her knees, muttering away. "No, not you. I'm sorry."

"What did you do to her?" Hob asks, inspecting her.

"She has old ghosts that I've shown to her." Morpheus explains.

Hob looks at him, thoughts clearly running through his head.

"You need not have come to my defence," Morpheus says to him.

"Clearly." Hob smiles. "Stull, I didn't want to be drinking alone here in 100 years' time."

Morpheus cracks a smile.

"I don't suppose you care to find another pub tonight?" Hob asks.

"She may have told others about our meeting. It will not be safe for you."

"I'm perfectly safe. I can't die, remember?" Hob grins.

"Aye. But you can be hurt or captured," Morpheus reminds him. "We must be cautious."

"Always."

You join your husband at his side and reach for his hand. Morpheus looks at you. He brings your hand up to his lips and kisses it softly.

Hob watches you both quietly.

You smile and lean in closer to your husband's side.

"A hundred years then?" Hob asks softly.

"A hundred years," Morpheus confirms. He then gently pulls you along to exit the pub.

Hob leaves in the other direction.

☆☆☆

1889

Morpheus has you on his arm as you both walked down the street. You were stopped outside of the pub by a young lady. She didn't seem to take much notice of you as she spoke to your husband, but Hob called her off you both when he came over. You followed Hob inside.

"Sorry about Lushing Lou."

"Lushing Lou. Is that what they call her?" Dream asks. You were all sitting down now.

"Well, in here, they call her 'The Hospital.'"

"Why?"

"Because she's in 'em a great deal, and becauses she's sent so many men into 'em." Hob explains. "No idea what her real name is."

"Lousie Baldwin. Her father was in the British army. Her cousin raped, impregnated and deserted her when she was just a child." Morpheus told him.

"How do you know all that?" Hob asks, looking at him.

"Your cup is empty. You need more wine," Morpheus dodges the question.

"You knew Lady Johanna. You know Lushkng Lou. You know everyone, don't you?" Hob points at him.

"We saw her again, you know."

"Who? Lady Johanna?"

"She undertook a task for me and succeeded admirably, I might add."

"That might be the only thing I've learned after 500 years," Hob says softly. "People are almost always better than you think they are. Not me, though. Stille the same as ever."

You chuckle softly.

"I think perhaps you've changed," Morpheus says with a slight smile.

"Well, I may have learnt a bit from my mistakes. But, uh... doesn't seem to stop me from making them."

Morpheus smiles slightly.

"I think ita you that's changed," Hob points out.

Morpheus stops smiling. "How so?"

"I think I know why we still meet here, century ayer century." Hob leans forward and his seat. You glance at your husband curiously. "It's not because you want to see whether or not km ready to seek death. I don't think I'll ever seek death. By now, you know that about me."

You look between the two curiously. Dream's expression has changed slightly.

"So, I think you're here for something else."

"And what might that be?" Morpheus asks him.

"Friendship," Hob says simply. "I think you're lonely."

"You dare..." Your husband speaks with a light warning tone. His aura has definitely shifted. You watch him carefully.

"No, look, I'm not saying-"

"You... dare suggest one such as I might need your companionship."

"Yes. Yes, I do."

Morpheus stands. "Then I shall take my leave of you and prove you wrong."

Hob stands. Before he can do anything Morpheus takes your hand and leaves the pub. You say nothing as you follow him, feeling bad for Hob.

You had assumed yourself that they were friends.

Morpheus leads you down the street, rsin now pouring down. Hob exits the pub and follows you.

"I'll tell you what, I'll be here in 100 years' time." Hob calls out. "If you're here then too, it'll be because we're friends. No other reason, right?'

Morpheus pays him no attention. He keeps hold of your hand as he marches away.

You dare not speak about what happened.

☆☆☆

1989

Hob arrives in the pub. He orders a drink and sits down. He is so sure Dream will show up. He's bound to come in with you on his arm. You and your cheerful smile, and your brooding husband.

Friends. They were friends even if Dream denied it. Maybe Hob will even get your names this time around.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits.

Neither you nor Dream come through the door. Hob wonders if Morpheus really meant what he said last time.

This was him proving he was wrong.

Robert feels a fool.

Meanwhile, the king of dreams is locked up in a glass prison down in a basement. And you are trapped in a long slumber, unable to wake without your husband.

Hob has no idea how his friend's are suffering. He is left to think their friendship is over.

☆☆☆

Which brings us to today. The New Inn. Unfortunately, the old pub has been closed down for a while. Supposedly it was going to be flats. All those years suddenly gone in the blink of an eye.

However, you had seen the sign on the fence. A smile on your face. You follow the direction it was leading to.

This new place was nice. You could definitely get used to meeting here. Perhaps more than once a century. You head inside and look around. He wasn't hard to find. You smile when your eyes land on Robert Gadling. He was working on some papers in front of him.

Slowly, you walk over to his table. You cough gently into your fist. Hob raises his head.

He smiles and stands up.

"It's you."

You nod. "It's me."

He looks behind you, searching. You know who he is looking for. You smile and get his attention back on you.

"He's on his way."

That's all Hob needed to hear. He gestures to the chair opposite him. You sit down and smile. He orders you a drink.

"I was worried when neither of you came last time," he confesses.

"We are sorry about that. There was a complication."

Hob seems to understand.

You talk with him for a while, waiting for your husband to arrive. You hope all went well with his sister. Hob does most of the talking between you, but you know he's saving the good stories for when Morpheus arrives.

A familiar hand settles on your shoulder and you smile. He is here.

"You're late," Hob says, smiling at the man behind you.

Morpheus chuckles softly. "It seems I owe you an apology. I've always heard it impolite to keep one's friends waiting."

You chuckle.

Morpheus pulls out the chair beside you and sits down. He takes your hand in his and Hob calls for more drinks.

You watch your husband as he listens to his friend. You smile.

Your Morpheus was back.

Happy wasn't enough to describe how that made you feel. He squeezed your hand gently. Everything was okay.

☆☆☆

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