#I mean he's been through so so so so much so it's expected

[kateschi]

the line we crossed

synopsis: a charged night with your bodyguard leads to emotions bubbling to the surface.

pairing: bodyguard!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

the soft glow of the hotel room’s lights reflects off the polished surfaces, casting gentle shadows that make the entire place feel like a private sanctuary.

despite the quiet elegance of the setting, tension hangs thick in the air between you and bakugou.

it’s been a long night—one that’s taken an unexpected turn—and now you’re both standing in the middle of the room, the aftermath of it all settling in.

“you don’t have to be so rough, y’know,” you say, your voice wavering slightly as you pull your wrist free from his grip.

bakugou’s hand is firm around your arm, pulling you through the hallways, his frustration evident in the way he practically drags you after him.

“shut up!” bakugou snaps, his usual intensity dialed up even higher tonight.

“I told you multiple times not to go anywhere without me! and guess what? you go and almost get yourself damn kidnapped!” his voice echoes, cutting through the tension like a knife.

you feel a tight knot of frustration rise in your chest.

“why do you care so much anyway?” you shoot back, folding your arms over your chest, not entirely sure why his anger is making you feel so unsettled.

he isn’t usually this worked up, especially not about your safety—it’s his job, after all.

but there’s something about the way he’s handled the situation tonight, something that feels more personal than professional, and you can't ignore it.

“care?” his voice is thick with irritation. “are you dumb? this is my job!”

you shake your head, the sting of his words settling like a weight in your chest. “that’s not what I mean!” you fire back, your emotions rising.

bakugou is unflinching, his hands resting on his hips as if he’s expecting an explanation. and you, well, you can’t hold it back anymore.

the words spill out in a rush before you can stop yourself.

“a normal bodyguard doesn’t make sure the room is warm enough to my liking. a normal bodyguard doesn’t make sure my food is exactly how i want it every time.

a normal bodyguard doesn’t send flowers to my dressing room without me ever asking for them, and they sure as hell don’t learn every little thing about me—like my favorite songs or how I like my tea!

you’ve been doing all of that, and I don’t know why!” the words hang in the air, raw and unfiltered.

bakugou is silent for a moment, his intense gaze never leaving you.

his brow furrows slightly, and he visibly shifts his stance, almost as if what you’ve said has caught him off guard.

he glances away for a split second, then clicks his tongue, the sound cutting through the quiet room.

“that doesn’t change the fact that you’re at fault,” he mutters under his breath.

the frustration building inside you crests like a wave, and you find yourself unable to keep the tears back anymore.

your chest tightens, and you step back, not sure whether to cry or scream.

“I’m not talking about that anymore, katsuki,” you say, your voice low and shaky.

the sound of his first name leaves your lips before you can even register it, and the room falls into an unexpected stillness.

the shift is almost palpable. bakugou’s gaze snaps to yours, his entire demeanor changing in an instant.

there’s something raw in his eyes, something that hasn’t been there before, and you realize that you’ve done something—something that’s clearly unsettled him.

he opens his mouth to say something, but the words die in his throat. you can see the conflict behind his eyes, the struggle between keeping up his tough exterior and admitting something deeper.

you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but you refuse to back down now.

“do you like me?” you ask, slowly.

your pulse quickens as soon as they leave your mouth, but you don’t look away from him. you don’t have time to second-guess.

bakugou’s face flushes a deep shade of red, and for a second, he doesn’t speak, as if the question has caught him entirely off guard.

his eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth again, but his usual sharp retort doesn’t come. instead, he grunts, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“…does that matter?” he grumbles, looking away to avoid your gaze. “I’m gonna do my job perfectly anyway,” he says, his voice rough. “not weak enough to let feelings get in my way.”

you stare at him for a long moment, the truth of what he’s saying sitting between you both. he isn’t the type to mix personal feelings with his job, but you can see it now. you can see the cracks in his armor.

“I’m not worried about that,” you say, your voice quiet but with an underlying certainty.

and before you can stop yourself, you’re moving.

your hand reaches out, your fingertips brushing against his chest as you close the space between you.

you don’t know what comes over you in that moment, but the weight of everything you’ve just said—the tension, the fear, the desire to understand him—pushes you forward.

the kiss is tentative at first, as if neither of you truly knows how to navigate this moment.

but then, like a dam breaking, the kiss deepens, and you can feel the heat from bakugou’s body pressing into you, his hands roughly grabbing onto your shoulders and pulling you even closer.

his lips are demanding, heated, and there’s something undeniably possessive in the way he kisses you, as if he had all of this pent up inside.

he pulls away suddenly, his eyes blazing with something unrestrained.

“I tried holding back,” bakugou says lowly, his voice raw and his breath ragged. his chest is heaving against yours, and his hands tremble slightly as they grip your waist.

before you can react, he pushes you back against the wall, the force of it stealing your breath away.

your heart races, your body caught between fear and desire as his face looms close to yours. his eyes lock with your own, burning and intense.

“you’ve got no one to blame for this but yourself,” he mutters.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[marauders1971-1978]

This is the post I channel for James' characterisation for years 1-3

The dormitory grew brighter around him at a snail’s pace, the weak Autumn light struggling through the flat, white cloud cover. Remus was exhausted and frustrated, but still, infuriatingly awake. He gave up trying to get any rest and clambered over to the bottom of his bed to pull out a book from his trunk to read until it was a reasonable time to be up. 

His eyelids were just drooping over his copy of The Wishing Chair, Again that he’d brought from home to lend to Lily when something heavy and unexpected dropped onto his legs. 

“Morning!” James whispered over Remus’ grunt of pain. He was beaming, and looked like he’d slept outside in a hurricane. 

“Yeah, morning.” Remus pulled his legs from under James, lest he break them, and put his book to one side. “You’re up early.”

“I suppose. Hey, sorry to spring this on you, but I forgot to ask yesterday with all the excitement. Are you a werewolf?”

Remus lunged forward and clapped his hand over James’ mouth, looking over to his left in a panic. Peter was still snoring. 

“Jesus Christ, James, shut up.” 

James pried Remus’ hand away from his mouth and grimaced apologetically. 

“Sorry mate,” James apologised, keeping his voice hushed. “Anyway, you are, aren’t you? I double-checked the lunar charts over summer-”

“James, are you mental?” Remus groaned. He couldn’t take much more anxiety in one night. “What do you mean, you were ‘checking lunar charts’? It’s like, five in the morning - why are you asking me this right now?”

James looked horrified. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I was so sure I was right - I suppose that was a bit presumptuous. Please, ignore what I said, I’m so sorry-”

“No, you’re right, it’s just that-”

“Wait, I’m right ?”

Remus wanted to obliterate himself on the spot. What an idiot. 

Well, he supposed at least he could stop worrying about it now. 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

He stole a tentative glance at James, expecting disgust, or horror, or fear. Instead, he looked… smug?

“ Knew it!” he hissed. “I’m such a great detective. Sirius isn’t going to believe that I figured it out before him-”

Remus couldn’t believe his ears. Was it simply that James hadn’t thought of the reality of what he’d discovered? Perhaps it was still all a game of Cluedo to him. Perhaps, once he’d had a few minutes for the horror of what he’d said to sink in, he’d go straight to Professor McGonagall, or Professor Dumbledore, and ask that Remus be housed elsewhere, or expelled, for their own safety. 

And he’d be right to. 

Remus flinched as a hand waved before his eyes, far too close to his face. 

“Hey, Lupin. You okay there?”

Remus blinked at him, waving his hand away. He didn’t want to touch him. 

“Am I okay?”

James huffed. “You keep just repeating me.” James seemed to stop, pull the breaks on his own train of thought, and really look at Remus for the first time since he’d sat on the bed. Remus could feel his eyes searching him. “Sorry. I think I’ve made a mistake.” 

There it was.

“I’ve really freaked you out, haven’t I?”

Freaked him out?

“I bet it’s been really hard for you, you tried to keep it a secret. And here I am blabbing away about it. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I can keep a secret, I promise. Especially for a friend.”

Remus refused to cry for the third time that day, so he leaned forward and hugged James roughly, before he could think twice about it. James squeezed him back.

BONUS - Peter

“I guess this is about the werewolf thing?”

Remus snapped his head up, bashing his forehead on James’ chin as he did. Peter stood beside the bed, sleepy eyed. Remus rubbed his head and looked bewildered at Peter. 

“How do you know?” He asked, incredulous. 

“You were sick at the full moon and your scars don’t heal,” Peter shrugged. “I supposed you were trying to keep it a secret, so I didn’t say anything. Seems like that’s over and done with now though.” He smiled up at him and Remus felt his chest ache like someone had reached inside him and squeezed his heart. 

How did he deserve this?

James unlatched himself from Remus and huffed at Peter. “Wait, when did you figure this out? I thought it’d gotten it first?”

“No way, I figured it out end of last year - I’m sure you only put it together in the holidays-”

“That’s not true, I was just double checking! I knew last year-”

“You did not, you’re a liar-”

Remus: Oh no. You don’t want to befriend me. I’m a handful.

James: [excitedly] I have two hands!!!

[glossykissies]

clark and his gf who’s all sad because her friends keep ditching her and he’s trying to make her feel better.

love you so much on both blogs!

i like this as bsf!clark who’s in love with you so he hangs out with you and all your girl friends and is basically apart of your group — just so he can be near to you.

you’d planned a girls night, and clark was fine with that because… well, he had stuff to do around the barn anyway. you’d been excitedly rambling about it all week — buying facemasks, ordering pizza and pulling out the best girly romcom dvds to ensure a perfect night… until they all cancelled.

you were a sweet, sensitive soul who didn’t take well to disappointment, so clark’s heart sank when the phone rang, your best friend picking up only to be met with your snivels.

“look, hey, don’t cry — i’ll come over, okay?” he coo’s, his natural instinct being to coddle you and just hope it didn’t come off as patronising. you usually seemed to like it.

“what— what about the barn? ‘said you were busy with it tonight—”

“ah, the barn can wait.” he blows it off. you can’t see him but you know he waved his hand as he said it as if to convince you even more of its unimportance. “my old man’ll understand. he thinks you’re a total angel. infact i think he’d be more mad at me if i didn’t go to see you.”

you sniff, twiddling pathetically with the phones curly wire. “well… if you’re sure…”

“completely sure. i’ll be over there as fast as i can.”

clark was a little too excited, having to convince himself not to use his super speed.

he didn’t expect you to be so upset however, ending up beside you on the couch with a hand on your back as you cried. he knew it would be rude to ask if your emotions had anything to do with your menstruation cycle, he wanted to slap himself for even thinking of it — but he wondered if that had a part to play.

“i just feel like i always put in effort with people but there’s always something more important.” you rant, swiping beneath your eyes in frustration. clark shuffles closer, tentatively placing a hand on your back.

“mhm?” he urges you on in a gentle tone, hoping to ease you into a more relaxed mood.

“i was excited.” you pout, turning to face him — seeming to be at the end of your meltdown. he presses his lips together with a sympathetic smile.

“yeah, i figured. i mean, look at all this effort you went through setting this up.” clark validates you, lifting a hand to gesture to the way you’d decorated the living room with snacks and movie options, blankets strewn across the couch creating a comfortable atmosphere. “i suppose we’ll have to enjoy it just the two of us.” he grins, mindful of his tone — not wanting to seem like he wanted to take advantage of this situation, even if he secretly did.

“you’ll even do facemasks with me?” you let a smile slip, peering up at him through wet eyelashes. he grimaces like he’s pretending to think about it as you giggle, now being the one to shuffle closer to him.

“you gonna put cucumbers on my eyes?”

“oh yes, the full spa experience.” you tease, and clark can’t help but reach up and brush the final tear off your cheek with a fond smile. you lean happily into his hand, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“i’m lookin’ forward to it.”

clark effortlessly takes your mind off things, a natural at distracting you with dumb dad jokes, debating over pizza toppings and lastly making silly observations about the rom-com you’d landed on.

you’re sleepy — clark had noticed you always got sleepy after eating a big meal, and after tearing through copious amounts of pizza you’d allowed yourself to lay on his chest, tired eyes glued to the screen as he strokes your back, afraid to even breathe wrong incase you come to your senses and crawl off him.

you couldn’t help it, he was just so big and warm — it would be a waste for him to take up all that space and for you not to use it. you figured you were close enough to cuddle anyway, thigh cocked up in a half straddle on his lap, sleepily giggling at a point he made.

“i just don’t get why the main love interest is being played by a forty year old.” he shrugs and you chortle harder against him.

“y’so warm.” you muse out of nowhere, drunk on tiredness. it had to be nearing 2am at this point; and you’d totally let your guard down. you feel his heart skip a beat against your ear.

“uh— really? oh, well… thanks. i think?”

“s’a good thing clarkie.” you shift until you’re looking up at him, faces inches away, body to body. clark licks his lips, brows furrowed slightly as tries (and fails) not to glance at your mouth. “thank you for hanging out with me.”

“y—eah.” he rasps, voice breaking at the low volume. he clears his throat, and you take an extra second longer to look at him before dropping your head back down, body getting heavier over the minutes that pass as you slowly succumb to sleep. clark stays awake, unable to sleep a wink, too consumed by the feeling of you on top of him.

[kissbyoon]

( 🎧 ) . ݁₊ “LOVELY BOYFIE!”

╰┈ Wonwoo can fight anyone! Even his own miniteen plush.

₍ 𝑓𝘵. ₎ 𓈒 원우 ˶ fluff, est. relationship * skinship, reader being moody, cutie wonu ⎯⎯ 1.1k ꒱ ✦ bf!wonu x f!reader

♪ A/N : I don't think my words are enough to express how adorable this man is !? | FOXDUNGEE UGH MY CUTIE PIE.

Dragging your feet along the wooden carpeted floor, you made noises of distress.

You throw yourself on the couch with a loud thud─causing your boyfriend to call out in concern.

“Baby? Are you okay?” Hearing this, you immediately turn your head, expecting him to finally walk out of his room into the broad daylight—only to be disappointed.

Wonwoo had been in his personal office, gaming and gaming the whole day. To be fair, you shouldn't be bothered right now because he has spent the entire last two days with you, without any distractions. But that doesn't mean he has to be sitting in that same chair and game for literally six hours.

“I'm not okay.” Your tone feigned nonchalance, followed by a scoff that Wonwoo didn't fail to pick up. You could hear some shuffling, but also knew it wasn't him standing up from that damn seat.

“Just five more minutes, okay?” your boyfriend shouted from his office, and you didn't bother to reply because he had been saying that for God knows how many times now. Instead, you get up and head towards your shared bedroom—hoping to pass the time by scrolling through your phone.

As you enter, you're immediately hit by the familiar scent of Wonwoo. It wasn't a surprise. He stays in the bedroom for the whole day, and sometimes even replaces your side of the bed with his.

Sighing with disappointment, you lay down on your bed and reach out for your phone. But as you look at the screen, it flashed with a picture of Foxdungee—wonwoo’s miniteen plushie. You notice it wasn't yours, but Wonwoo’s phone. He left it here when he went to his office.

Foxdungee.

You get up and immediately start searching for it. If not Wonwoo, at least his miniteen plush can keep you company.

Just as you take it out of your closet, you hug it tightly and jump back to the bed. You grab Wonwoo’s phone and take a few selfies with it, before playing a short movie to watch while you pass the time.

An hour passed, then two, and then three—

The clock hit 12 at noon, you were under the bed sheets, completely snuggled in, when you heard the door slowly open and close—indicating that Wonwoo finally decided to get up from his gaming seat, looking for you.

“Baby?” He softly called out, approaching the bed and taking a seat beside you as your back faced him. He caught the bright flash from the screen of your (his) phone, and smiled; thinking you were waiting for him this whole time instead of taking a nap.

Wonwoo sneaked an arm around your waist, his hand hit a soft thing that you held close to yourself. He frowned, snuggling closer to your back as he raised his head to get a look at what you were holding—

Foxdungee.

Bursting into a giggle, he buried his face in your neck and pressed a peck there, dramatically letting out a ‘mmwah!'

“You're holding Foxdungee thinking it's me? You love me that much, baby?” His tone carried a hint of amusement along with teasing, gently trying to move the plush out of your grip so you can hold him instead.

But your grip was tight. His lips unconsciously formed a little pout at his failed attempt to move Foxdungee.

“Baby—”

“Get off me,” you muttered, loud enough for him to catch it, as you removed his hand from your waist and sat up on the bed.

Wonwoo, dumbfounded, looked up at you with a genuinely confused expression, but he didn't wait another second before sitting up as well—his hands reaching up to rest on your thigh by instinct.

“What happened?” He could simply stare at you with big, confused eyes.

“Who do you think you are?” You eyed him.

“Huh?” Wonwoo muttered, tilting his head in confusion. “Is this a punishment for your lovely boyfriend?”

“You’re not my boyfriend,” you looked at him with a confident look, and he swears he heard you wrong, because, what?

You loosen your grip around Foxdungee, lifting it up with your hands as you waved it. “This is.”

The way Wonwoo’s face immediately shifted to a one that spoke volumes, made it difficult for you to hold in your laugh.

“What the fuck,” in disbelief, Wonwoo stared down at the plush in your hands—now finding himself frowning at the way you held it so gently and close to you, but not your actual boyfriend.

“Haha, so funny, I actually laughed. Now give me that,” he faked his laugh, reaching out to grab Foxdungee with a tight grip, trying to pull it away from you.

“Hey! Stop that—” you argued back, pulling it towards you with full force as well.

It felt like two kindergarten kids fighting over a plushie, except that one of them wanted to throw it away because he didn't like the way you held it so close to yourself.

The atmosphere shifted like the weather in early spring. A little pushing and pulling caused a whole pillow fight, trapping you both in a light-hearted and sweet moment with laughs and smiles.

And you both definitely didn't just ignore the way Foxdungee had been completely ripped apart…

“Wait,” you interrupted, suddenly quieting down. “Where's Foxdungee?”

Just as you start to look around, Wonwoo gently grabs your shoulder and pushes you down on the bed, hovering above you, with a playful dissatisfied frown.

“Who cares?” He leaned down to peck your lips, pulling away with a smile. “I'm your boyfriend, not my miniteen plush. And I'm better.”

You laughed, playfully hitting his shoulder. “I don't think so. Your miniteen plush doesn't sit in its office for hours and hours, neglecting its girlfriend.”

A bit of teasing won't hurt—you thought.

Wonwoo chuckled and let himself fall on top of you, burying his face in your neck with a whine. “Don't say that, I'm sorry. I love you..”

Just that, made you fold immediately. You grab his face, guiding him to pull away so you could look at him. As he did so, you flash the brightest grin Wonwoo might have ever seen and press a long kiss on his lips, making him grin as well.

“I think I forgive you, my lovely boyfriend.”

In moments like these, you realise that your significant other taking a few hours for themselves doesn't cause their love to lessen for you.

“Thank you,” closing his eyes, Wonwoo laid his head on your chest, his face lit up with a smile that you could feel when you gently touched his lips.

“Your lovely boyfie promises to never leave you out ever again.” He pecked your hand and snuggled in closer.

[thecutestmonkeygirl]

She hadn’t expected him to read it to her and it struck her how comfortable she was suddenly walking him through texting his own lover. This made her think for a moment, her thoughts rapid firing in her brain before she shook her head as he spoke to her. “I umm I think a heart is maybe too much. Flowers wouldn’t be bad though.”

Sasuga shook her head. “He usually doesn’t. I think last night was a major fluke and maybe it was caused by the fairy dust. I was coated in it and he had taken hits before that. Honestly I have no idea how much he did when I wasn’t around him either. It was a bad idea, fun but bad. I won’t be trying that again. “ she chuckled softly.

“Just because everyone can see it doesn’t mean he has been openly telling others. “ she shrugged. “So let’s just not put it out there just in case. But anyway, he may be with Bastien tonight. I just don’t know.”

Blood and Moonlight

Sasuga woke in what was at first an unfamiliar area but as she blinked fully awake she realized it was their closet that Coyote had decorated for them. She smiled and took a careful kiss from her mate who was still sound asleep next to her. It really had been an amazing night with the family and then with her husband. As she slipped from his arms, she took a moment to look at her reflection in the mirror, her fingers dancing over the fresh marks on her neck and hips. She couldn't have asked for anything more from the night and it was with some reluctance that she dressed. She picked out a pair of warm leggings and a short little skirt to pull over them with some knee high boots and a thick sweater. She slipped from the closet and moved to the bathroom to comb her hair and brush her teeth and get ready for the big day ahead. She gave a stretch and headed downstairs only to find a familiar face waiting for her. "Raphael..." she smiled and moved to greet him with a hug. "I see you are still alive." she smirked. "Want some tea? Coffee?"

@banditcoyote

[gloomwitchwrites]

Feel free to ignore if this is too heavy but ive been feeling low and i wonder...

How would the 141 help their SO through a breakdown? Like hyperventilating and crying? How would they talk them down?

Again, if you dont want to write this i completely understand. Much love

It's not too heavy, and I know I'm fairly delayed on getting to this. I hope you're feeling better than when you sent this to my inbox. You're in my thoughts, anon. <3

written with gn!reader

Content & Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort

Out of all of them, Ghost is the most understanding, and the calmest in this situation. Maybe it’s because of his own trauma, or the fact that he’s struggled with own mental health, but there’s no judgment here. There is also no rush to try and tell you to “calm down.” Ghost might be a bit of a weirdo, but he knows how to read the room. He’s not going to immediately lovebomb you. What he will do, is give you space, to speak calmly to you, to be the anchor you need when you feel like you’re sinking.

While Soap is supportive, he’s the least likely of the bunch to get this right. Doesn’t mean he won’t try. The tears and anxiety aren’t going to scare him away, but it’ll create an internal panic inside him all on its own. That’s not your fault, he just doesn’t like to see you cry. He hates it when you’re hurting because Soap knows he’s not always going to be able to fix it. While he enjoys physical touch, he might be more hesitant in this situation to completely wrap you up in his arms until you’re calmer. One thing that you can completely rely on is that Soap is a yapper. He will try to talk you through it, even cracking jokes if it helps distract you.

It's Price that might sway either way. The breakdown could surprise him, throw him off a bit, but this man has quick recovery. He’s used to extremely stressful situations and making changes on the fly. Don’t expect him to be perfect though, or even promptly take the correct actions. If anything, he might freeze up if the breakdown is unexpected. He might stumble through getting to where he needs to be to support you. But he will do his best, making sure he’s by your side, trying to keep you calm and collected, to make sure you know how much he loves and cares for you.

A breakdown doesn’t last long with Kyle around. This man has it down to a science, especially if it has happened before. You know you can be completely vulnerable and open with him, that Kyle is comfortable seeing you at your worst and won’t judge you for it. There is nothing more comforting or calming than Kyle’s presence. This man is nothing but soothing words and gentle touches. He’ll let you press you face into his chest, snotty nose and all, and won’t bat an eye. He’ll hold you if that’s what you need or sit beside you if you require space. If you don’t want him to talk at all and just want him to listen, he’ll do that too.

main masterlist

[hana-no-seiiki]

My first writing commission! This will be a multipart series for HOTD. Featuring yanderes, political warfare and overall mayhem. And perhaps?? some time traveling??

Thank you @dawntheday for commissioning this project.

// tw/cw: reader is not a targaryen. canon based violence, incest, sexism, the usual. canon divergences. reader is gender neutral but is described as ethereal. reader gets pimped out (implicit/short descriptions). seggs/light smut. basically a lot of disgusting shit happens.

AND THEN, THERE WAS YOU [PROLOGUE]

Childbirth was one of the most traumatic, painful and bloody experiences known to man. The sheer agony of a child being ripped out of your womb, kicking and screaming. And yet, so many deemed it miraculous event. All joy, love and positivity.

It was horrific to even witness.

But the Gods wouldn’t be satisfied for you to be a bystander. No. You would find out that childbirth was worse when you were the one being born.

Sentience was a curse. One forced upon you since the beginning. You could feel the push of your mother’s walls, constricting you, flattening you, forcing you out into the world. Her screams, your cries, and the panicking voices of the midwives as you finally, finally made it out were all too much. The blood all too much.

You never really forget that experience even as you grew older. Features of your youth melted away to reveal ethereal beauty. One that commanded worship and awe.

That was another thing the Gods made you have to torture you. Droves and droves of sick and twisted people at your doorstep as your birth parents watched in delight, their coffers filled to the brim with gold.

But perhaps it wasn’t always a curse. Your beauty, I mean. Now that you’ve stolen much of their earnings and escaped to another continent.

Westeros.

A journey by sea it took. For you to crawl your way into the newly conquered lands. Bloodied and battered from the journey. Exhausted yet eager to renew yourself in the new lands your feet would walk upon.

Your first ever job was at a Brothel. Taking in clients like the way your parents did to you not so long ago, but of your own accord.

That was where you met Aegon Targaryen. Aegon the Conqueror. Loud, proud, and scrotum heavy. You’ve heard of the classic old tale where the men of his family would visit this place to sow their oats. Bastards upon bastards littered the place. You knew that one of these days, you would be bear his spunk and parade it around like many others. Your ego ached for it even. To conquer the conquerer. To bear a dragon’s seed.

Little did you know, the dragon already knew you.

“I dreamt of you.” He said as he ravished you, eyes filled with an emotion you couldn’t recognize. You certainly hadn’t seen in your family’s nor have your old clients. “Like I dream of the walkers. Of an apocalypse to come.”

You’ve heard of his rough and relentless way in the sack. How your fellow workers complained of the way they were treated, how they couldn’t walk any further than two feet after he was done with them. The man did not view them as anything more than objects after all. Something to toss aside when he was done.

But if anything, he’d been the most attached and sappiest man you’ve ever had the fortune of bedding. Disgustingly so.

“You. You are the calm amongst those nightmares.“ He was gentle, loving. Nothing like Aegon the Conqueror that you’ve heard of. Nothing like the Aegon the Conqueror that you wanted.

As soon as he fell asleep, you went and disappeared.

It is not long before he calls upon you. Again and again, murmuring about dreams and winter. You’ve even met his wives. All so eager to meet you. All so kind and benevolent. All so unlike the expectations you’ve set in your mind and heart. Expectations you were willing to brave through. Somehow, drama and your potential death was better than the constricting vice they held over you. Memories flashed through your head. Of your mother, of your birth. Of blood and viscera.

You try to leave but are sent back to Aegon’s chambers in an instant.

“You may leave. You may run. But nothing will stop you from finding your way back to the Dragon’s nest. Fate wills it so.” He said, but all you heard was a challenge.

“You’ll find that I’m quite stubborn regardless.”

You quickly find out that Aegon knew your movements from his dreams. Each plan of yours to escape had been foiled before it had happened.

And so you stopped, you let him and his wives coddle and fuck you when they wanted.

Years later, an opportunity presents itself. A cliff overlooking the ocean. So vast and wide. Yet to be taken and shackled by the man who took your freedom away.

You do not hesitate. Not for one moment.

“Come.”

You jump. You bet that Aegon did not foresee that coming considering he was too shocked to catch you. Your death would be swift you suppose. At least it wouldn’t be as arduous as repeating the same day over and over again.

Your eyes fluttered open, a meeting between [e/c] and purple. You grimaced as you see her platinum blonde hair and luxurious outdoor clothing. Blood across her face and a knife in her hand.

It can’t be . . .

Tears fall down your cheeks. Your broken cries echo through the woods.

a/n: future chapters will be longer because hotd is hotd.

[cosmicalily]

"love (and caffeine) on the brain" - a mini series by @cosmicalily. view series masterlist and outline here

month 42: but two though? | fiance!kim seungmin x fem!reader

author's note: as you can tell by the title, this entry is inspired by 'juno' by sabrina carpenter (minus the freakiness). i hope you love this final chapter, and of course there will always be more seungmin content in my oneshots and timestamps!

warnings: pregnancy (giggles mischeviously)

“Hey pretty girl,” Seungmin mumbled into your shoulder, wrapping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to your jawline, “I’m gonna go to the store; wanna come?”

You rubbed your forehead, downing the glass of water he’d given you mere minutes ago. “Yeah, okay. Maybe some fresh air will help clear my head.”

Seungmin looked at you with his head tilted to the side, an action that your beloved dog, Mini, frequently imitated. “I was just thinking . . . like obviously, you know your body best so I don’t want to assume but . . . are you sure it’s PMS?”

“I mean, it’s the longest fucking PMS I’ve had in a while,” you groaned, rubbing your lower back as you stood up, giving him a crooked smile and pulling on one of his hoodies.

Mini whimpered a little as the two of you closed the door behind you, despite the endless amount of attention he’d received all day.  Once you were settled in the car,  Seungmin rested his hand on your thigh as you hummed to the music, wincing as the pain in your lower back moved in waves of tension.

“You haven’t gotten your period in a while,” Seungmin persisted, giving you a quick glance as he drove, rubbing circles on your knee.

“What a good boyfriend, being so concerned about my hormonal cycle,” you giggled.

“I’m being serious, baby,” Seungmin replied, face concerned.

You turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed. “I mean, you’re not wrong. With all these ongoing symptoms, I’ve been expecting it for a while now. I just assumed that it would show up eventually.”

“Two months,” Seungmin replied, pulling into the parking lot of the grocery store and hopping out of the car, opening the door for you like he usually did and helping you out.

“Seung, you’ve been counting?”

He shrugged, grabbing a trolley and holding the list in between his teeth. “I’m your boyfriend, I notice when something’s off.”

“You’re not my boyfriend, stupid, didn’t you propose to me?” you lightly slapped him on the arm, and his expression of concern faltered for a little, his mouth moving into an automatic smile at the memory.

“Fiance, whatever,” he replied, gently elbowing you back, then slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.

Your eyes widened. “Wait, two whole months?” 

“Yeah . . . do you think . . .” Seungmin shoved the list into his pocket, looking at you. “Like . . .”

You paused in the aisle, mentally calculating everything that you’d experienced throughout the past few months. “Oh my God, I think you might be right.”

Seungmin didn’t say anything, just grabbed your hand and abandoned the empty trolley, leading you towards the medication aisle. You looked through shelves until you reached the end. Next to the pads and tampons Seungmin hadn’t bought you in so long was a selection of pregnancy tests.

“Do you care which one we get? I don’t really know if there’s a difference,” Seungmin asked, looking through the boxes. 

“Just get whichever one’s quickest. I don’t mind,” you replied, heart thumping hard in your chest.

Weekly groceries forgotten, the two of you headed to the cashier with two boxes and his hand in yours.

That was when you realised that even if you weren’t pregnant now, you most definitely wanted to be.

Because Seungmin would be the best dad you could ever imagine.

“C’mere, sweet girl, just leave it for a little while, then we can check,” Seungmin pulled you gently by your waist, briefly removing your focus from the white test sitting on the bathroom countertop. He’d set a timer on his phone, and knew that the seconds would take much longer if you both simply watched the piece of plastic’s little screen, yet neither of you could really draw your attention away.

“Are you . . . Seung, if . . . if it is . . . what do you want to do?” you sobbed into his shoulder, suddenly overcome with emotion.

“I’ll do whatever you want to do. It’s your body, baby,” Seungmin replied, rubbing soothing circles into the small of your back. “If you don’t think we’re ready, that’s fine. If you wanna keep the baby, that’s fine too. If you change your mind in a year and  suddenly decide you don’t ever want kids at all, I’ll be a little bummed, but I don’t care, as long as I have you, and as long as you’re happy.  It’s your decision, and I support it.”

You stared up at him, eyes like pools of wet ink. “I think . . . I wanna keep it.”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” Seungmin’s eyes shifted into crescents, pressing kisses onto your forehead. “But if you really don’t, I-”

“No, Min, I do, I know I do.”

“Okay,” Seungmin mumbled into your neck.

He felt a buzz in his left pocket. The timer. You didn’t want to pull yourself away from his arms, feeling so comforted by him that you didn’t really care about the answer on the test anymore. Whatever the case was, he was your safe space, and you knew, just by the way he reacted and cared for you throughout all those years you’d been together, that he was the best partner you could ask for.

“Baby . . . you might want to look.”

You reluctantly removed your face from the crook of his shoulder and stared at the two lines that were set across the screen of the test.

“Oh my god . . . oh my GOD!” You gasped, grabbing the test out of his hands and holding it to your eye, before tossing it back onto the counter and shoving yourself back into Seungmin’s embrace. Tears of joy prickled at your eyes, and you felt his own start to dampen the top of your hair.

“You’re perfect,” Seungmin murmured. “You’re so strong. I’m so in awe of you and what your body is doing, I hope you know that.”

“It was you who seemed to know my body better than I do,” you chuckled softly, leaning in to press a long, sweet kiss to his lips.

“You’d be surprised by how much I’ve actually adored your hormonal clinginess, you big baby.”

“Shut up. I love you.”

“I love you too. Both of you,” Seungmin beamed, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach, before taking your hand in his and gently pulling you on top of him onto the soft bathmat.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @zelinkcrossing @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @nappynapnaps @yaniluvs @bellarellasstuff @btch8008s @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger @woozarts - send an ask, comment or dm to be added!

[steven-g-rogers]

Steve chuckled.  He hadn’t expected Peggy to want to do a memoir.  If she’d published in the future, it was under a pseudonym and he’d never found out about it.  Though, it was very possible that due to the nature of her work, she’d never been allowed to publish.  That or the need to keep Steve’s secret.  He imagined their children coming across it and finding out about the time travel. It would certainly be a wonderful book to be released after they’d both passed.  He liked the idea of the world knowing he hadn’t vanished but gone back and lived a happy life with the woman he loved.

He smiled and nodded. “It’s a good idea,” he said.  “You might find the writing cathartic too.”

He leaned over and kissed her cheek, bringing his lips to her ear.  “Well, you are the love of my life,” he whispered.  “And I’ll remind you as much as you like.”

When he sat back he took another bite and nodded. “I’ve been to quite a few places, but many just while fighting, not really enough to look around.  I mean, can you really say you’ve been to Korea if you’ve only been for a few hours while you chased a madman through the streets?”   Madman? Killer robot?  Same thing.

“And there’s plenty of places I haven’t been.  I’ve never been to any of the Nordic countries.  I’ve never been to Japan or Australia.  I’ve never been to Egypt.”  That was just saying a few.  Really - most of the world was unknown to him.  He was excited to explore with Peggy.  “I did, however, spend a lot of time in one African country where I became friends with the king.  So that is very special.” 

@agentpeggycarterrogers

“That’s not a terrible idea, actually. I’ve never thought of writing a memoir. I suppose I should start taking notes and writing things down. There’s so much I want to remember now.” She smiled at him. “There you go again, inspiring me to follow another dream I didn’t know I had.”

Peggy nodded. “I just like hearing it. It sounds nice coming from you.”

She was certainly willing to try any food - Indian, African. It made it easier to try new things to have him with her, to have a variety of things to try. “You’ve been all over, haven’t you. You even said you’ve been to space. Goodness, I can’t imagine.”

@steven-g-rogers

[sammyluvr]

✶ blabbermouth — sam winchester

cw : gn!reader, talkative!reader, hurt/comfort, insecurity, unedited, 845 words. requested ! for my 900 followers event [ closed ] .

prompt : under a street lamp + “i’m right here, you know. i’m right here.”

sam pulls you to stand up with both hands. you’re not really sure why, and don’t notice that he’s pulled you under the orange light of a street lamp. he’d found you sitting on the curb in the dark, in the chilly almost-autumn air. and you haven’t gone far from the motel, but he’d still been worried when he got to the room and you weren’t there. he gets paranoid sometimes; he had burst out the front door. he nearly ran down the street until he saw your silhouette hunched over in a patch of darkness.

at first, he sat with you, but he hates not being able to see your face very well, so he gently pulls you up and into the light. it casts your face in warmth, and you look a little teary. he expected it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t send a pang through his chest. so before asking what’s wrong, he pulls you into a soft hug. you melt into him, but your shoulders retain some of their tension.

he parts, though his hands linger for a moment. “what is it?” he asks quietly. the bare skin of your arms are a bit cold to the touch. “you cold?”

you shake your head, “the wind is nice,” is all you can manage, followed but a stretch of quiet. a car rolls past, no music or voices floating out of the cracked window. there’s just the sound of tires on the road as your eyes leave him to follow its movement until you can’t crane your neck any further. then you’re forced to look back at him, knowing you haven’t answered his first question.

“sam… do i talk too much?” you ask, voice quiet for once and undeniably insecure. you hate the way it sounds, but you can’t bear to take up much space right now.

“mm?” he almost calls you babe, but catches himself at the last moment, “what are you talking about? of course you don’t. you don’t talk too much at all.”

you’re not convinced, unfortunately. he knows so by the way you don’t meet his eyes. “i just feel like… i feel like people get annoyed. and– dammit,” you curse under your breath, probably the only one bothered by your apparent inability to keep your mouth shut. you have this silly urge to come across as composed, maybe even a little mysterious for a bit of intrigue. but it never works, and you’re just always talking. even now, you can’t stop yourself from telling sam exactly what you’re feeling. “and– and sometimes it makes me worried that people won’t want to be around me because of it. i mean, no one likes a blabbermouth. even now i can’t seem to shut up.” your voice grows frustrated, almost aggressive at yourself. you wish you could keep it down, but you can’t even manage that.

“hey,” he quickly interrupts before you can say anything else self-deprecating, “don’t say that,” he says firmly, tilting his head to try and get you to look at him. “you’re not a blabbermouth, alright? and there’s nothing wrong with talking a lot. no one wants you to shut up, so don’t say that.”

“dean does,” you mutter bitterly. his hand twitches, as if trying to seek out yours to hold it tight. he frowns, so you explain, “dean gets annoyed. i know that he thinks i talk too much sometimes.”

“it doesn’t matter what dean thinks,” sam insists, “he’s an ass, you know that. doesn’t mean he wants you to stop talking.” he doesn’t even like saying the words ‘shut up’ in reference to you.

you frown back at him. “it matters to me,” you stress, “and what about bobby? and–”

he cuts you off with another gentle, imploring, “hey. i’m right here, you know. i’m right here.” that finally gets you to look him in the eye. you’re looking at him like you’re not sure what he means, but that you’re hoping for something. so he keeps going. “doesn’t it matter what i think about it?” he asks at a murmur, “i like how much you talk. i like– i like to listen to you. i don’t want you to stop. you could never annoy me and you could never do anything to make me not want to be around you.”

you eyes widen at his words. why does he have to say it like that? like he loves you, maybe. not just like he thinks you’re a great friend, and he wants to comfort and reassure you because of that. you struggle to respond. 

he notices and his hand drifts up towards your face, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheekbone. “okay?” he murmurs.

to that, you can nod, the movement a bit halting and your eyes still teary. it means a lot to hear those words, but it means everything to hear them from him. “okay,” you whisper back.

“good.” he pulls you back into his arms, and presses a gentle, but firm kiss to the side of your head.

[itstheghostofmypast]

Sugarplum

Husband Choi San x (F) Reader

Summary: So he loved HIS ROLLS HUH?!

Genre: Fluff

Rating: SFW

Word Count: 1 K

Est. Read Time: 5 min

Warnings: None

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet

"IDIOTS!-"

Sitting up straight the man squinted at the dimly lit room, trying to blink away the sleep as he pushed off the soft quilts, the pads of his feet tingling at the feeling of the cold floor. A feeling he did not like but had to endure because his little sugarplum wasn't in bed with him. Well, technically you had not gone to bed with him, instead the two of you had argued about something before he retired off to bed- mind you, it was not his fault, it was the world that was against him today…or maybe he should have been more careful? There was no real defense, but he did not expect to find you at home, glaring at him as soon as he had entered the apartment, declaring his arrival on the top of his lungs.

“Oh look Byeolie, a cheater.”

“I-Excuse me?” he squeaked, staring at you standing there in the living room with your hands on your hips, wearing a messy apron, glaring at him.

“Come on Byeol, we don’t need to engage with cheaters.”

That statement had led to march into the kitchen and stared at his wife teary eyes, “W-what do you mean? Love, what’s wrong? I-I’m sure there's been a misunderstanding!” he’d never do something like that to you, especially not when he started courting you the moment your father had hired him, a college student in his first year, and you had to supervise him, even though you two were almost the same age. From the way you would help him with everything, cleaning, mopping, teaching him how to knead dough, how to use a frosting pipe, and how to make a perfect cup of coffee- he really should thank you for that more.

Though for some reason you didn’t budge, he noticed the way your expressions softened, but you said nothing and only turned around to face the scattered baking items on the counter, taking a deep breath as you mumbled, “I’ll bring you dinner.”

After a silent lonely dinner, he had gone to place his plates in the dishwasher, glancing at you for some kind of reaction but you kept avoiding him, too busy doing something else, even Byeol had decided to give him the silent treatment. He honestly couldn’t figure out what he had done? Even when he hugged you from behind, whispering, “Let’s…go to sleep.” You had slipped out of his hold and cleared your throat, “I’m not tired…you go on ahead.”

Oh…right, he had gone to bed alone too- but why weren’t you there with him?

He had thought of talking to you about it, when you were to come to bed, but he had work in the morning and he was tired, and somewhere between the ticking hours, he had fallen asleep, snuggling with your pillow.

Giving one last look at your shared bed, feeling something brew within him, he continued to walk out to the room, wanting to clear it out no matter what it was, your relationship was stronger than this, you two had gone through worse- but he knew that you were also someone who’d quiet down when you were unsure of something. Like the time he had to quit working at the bakery, simply because he was done with college and needed to pursue a job in his designated profession.

“You're….quitting?” You had mumbled, staring at the letter of resignation your father had signed to let him go with pride. You had watched him appreciate San's success, though you only stared at him blankly before going back to work, and much like now, when he had approached you, you had brushed him off, mumbling, “Bye”.

Only back then he had let you go, nodding and leaving, though over the years he had realised his mistake, the world had shaped the young boy into the same man who had barged into the bakery four years later, admiring the way how you, the new owner since your father had retired, was busy as a bee. That is until he had grabbed your hand and dragged you into the office and kissed you without question, which was stupid because as soon as he had pulled back you had giggled, “What if I said I'm married?” His world had come to a halt at that, the thought of being a homewrecker tearing at him for a good 10 minutes until you burst out laughing at his stupidity.

So, that's what he was gonna do now to, kiss it out of you, he was going to sit you down after and explain to you how if he had never met you back in the bakery, his twink era, he would probably never have found love-

“GOD, I HATE MEN!”

He peeked into the kitchen, flinching at the clang of the pot you had slammed on the counter, it was ironic how Byeol who was curled up on your cardigan that was bunched up on the bar stool, next to the one he was now sitting on, chin in palm.

You turned around and gasped, hand pressed against your heart, taking a deep breath, “I-God, you scared me- s-sorry, did I wake you up, Sannie?”

‘Sannie'- guess the anger had subsided.

Shaking his head he gave you a small pout, “Woke up cause you weren't there- are you…do you wanna tell me…what's going on?” He mumbled, staring around at the several cinnamon roll trays that were lying around the kitchen, the pan filled with the white cream sauce, some that had made its way onto Byeol's tail.

“I…nothing… its stupid.” You mumbled, as you began to clean up, trying not to look at him when he made his way to you and grabbed your hands, pulling you closer, “You signed a contract with stupidity when you married me.”

Closing your eyes at his stupid comment, you mumbled like a child, “I saw you having the Cinnamon rolls from Jung's bakery.”

“What.” He frowned, trying to hear you better, “You saw me having Wooyoung’s what?”

“HIS CINNAMON ROLLS!”

You shoved him away and pointed at the mess, “You bastard! U married me!” You pointed at yourself, “And then you have the balls to go and have his stupid rolls!? And” you picked up a roll, “His recipe is so stupid! Men are so stupid! Why is everything measured according to ‘just wing it gurl’- what does that even mean!?” He blinked at you, watching you screech like a hawk at 3 am, “That bastard! I told him I'd trade my strawberry tart recipe with him if he gave me his cinnamon roll recipe that YOU apparently love-”

The slight pressure on your lips cut you off, as you to fisted his shirt in frustration, tugging him closer until he cupped your face to create some room to take a breath- he'd have to piss you off more if that's the kind of kiss he’d get- “I…” he panted, resting his forehead against yours, “Only had them because your bakery was closed today…remember?”

“...”

“I love you, my sweet little sugarplum-”

“Shut up and help me clean, Choi.”

[tarotsoul]

ghost in the wind — part three

summary: as feelings progress and truths unfold, you're left with a decision that could end your entire existence as you know it. the mother has a path for every soul, perhaps this was where yours was supposed to end.

warnings: swearing, mentions and brief descriptions of sexual abuse, consensual sexual themes, mentions of death and suicide.

word count: 5.8k

series masterlist

Feyre Archeron could never begin to imagine the pain and horror her older cousin had faced in the mortal lands. Rhysand hadn’t shared that image, hadn’t shared the memories he’d witnessed when he took some of that pain away from you. 

She didn’t need her mate to share those visuals. Not when she felt every ounce of anguish through their bond. And every day since then, she had not been able to forget it. 

Another two weeks had passed since your arrival, three in total of your being in the Night Court, and you were finally beginning to work through your trauma. 

The offer had been there to find your own place of residence, to have that independence if you so wished. But after speaking with Feyre and Rhysand, after learning it was in fact Nesta who had imposed the leave Y/N be rule… you realised just how much you loved living in the House with your family. 

Your friends. 

So when you’d finally accepted Mor’s desperate pleas to take you shopping and fill your empty wardrobe…

“You’re going to need another dresser.” 

You blinked, taking in the mess around you. Your entire closet was stuffed to the brim with dresses, blouses, sweaters, coats…

And the pile on your bed…there was no chance of those articles of clothing fitting in the closet too. Nesta was right, you definitely needed another dresser. 

“Rhys is going to lose his shit when he finds out how much we spent.” 

Your eyes widened at Nesta’s words, not quite picking up the teasing tone she spoke in. Mor shot her a look and threw a sweater at her face. 

“She’s kidding,” Mor reassured. “My dear cousin has more money than sense. This won’t have even made a dent in his wealth.” 

A relief, but that guilt began to creep its way into the pit of your stomach nonetheless. You were ashamed to admit that while you had fun shopping with Mor and your cousin, you hadn’t even taken a moment to realise how much everything had cost. 

Nesta threw herself onto your bed, right on top of the throng of clothes you needed to find a place for. “I’m thinking we raid Rhys’ wine cellar tonight…”

A gleaming smile radiated off Mor’s face in agreeance and they both turned to you with upraised brows, expectant. 

You pursed your lips, an apologetic smile on your face. “I told Rhys and Feyre that I’d babysit Nyx tonight.” 

Nesta huffed and threw herself back on the mattress again, clothes bouncing and crinkling as she did so. Mor raised another brow, as if that wasn’t a good enough excuse. 

“So? I’ve gotten drunk while watching Nyx loads of times.” 

Nesta seethed at her. “One, that’s my nephew and I never want to hear you doing that again. And two, Y/N’s tolerance to alcohol won’t be as strong as ours. Two glasses and she’d be borderline incapacitated.”

Despite the slight insult, a laugh bubbled up your throat at just how right she was. Because you’d never even drank a sip of wine in your life, and Nesta knew that. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have plans with Azriel…” 

Mor was prying, you knew that. But you had no control over the heat that made its way across your neck and face. 

“We’re just friends.” It wasn’t a lie. You’d spent a lot of time together the past couple of weeks, and he was one of the only people you felt truly comfortable around. 

Mor gave you a knowing look. “Mhm, tell that to his shadows.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nesta scoffed, sitting up again. “Az’s shadows are basically an extension of himself.”

Mor hummed. “They don’t do anything unless Azriel commands it. Or sometimes, they’ll do something based on his emotions or thoughts. They’re so friendly with you because Azriel likes you.” 

Your cheeks burned. You hadn’t realised his shadows touching you was a product of Azriel’s emotions. And the more you thought about it, there hadn’t been a time since you met him that they hadn’t touched you in some way. 

You didn’t say that, though. No. Azriel clearly had no qualms about other people noticing, but that did not mean you were willing to gossip about it. 

You did not need to allow silly fantasies to root their way in your mind. Azriel was your friend. And you were okay with him only wanting you as such. 

Within an hour, Mor had disappeared to tend to her own duties and just as Nesta was about to leave for hers, she grabbed your wrist and motioned for you to look at her. 

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. Those words were enough—more than enough. She saw you, she recognised everything you had been through and everything you did every day to overcome it. 

I’m proud of you. 

The last and only person to have ever told you that was your mother. 

And because you saw her too, because you remembered fhe young mortal woman she was before her own struggles of turning Fae and adjusting to her new lifestyle, you found yourself saying, “I’m proud of you, too, Ness.”

Nyx had been wonderful to look after that night. 

You’d gotten all the cuddles and boyish giggles, the beautiful little smiles and a few stinky diapers to go with it. You loved every moment with the little babe, and when Rhys and Feyre returned from their night off early in the morning, you offered to sit with him again whenever they needed it. 

But despite how fulfilling and wonderful it had been, it had also hurt. You wondered if you’d ever be blessed with the opportunity to carry and birth your own child. Wondered if you’d ever even find someone to want you in that way. 

Especially within Prythian. 

It was another late night for you, though your reading sessions had taken you from the lounge to the library. And you no longer spent them alone. 

Azriel sat on the couch opposite you, his nose deep in a book as you watched him. In the past week, you’d spent a lot of time together. It ranged from walks into the city to sitting and reading in the library until early hours of the morning. 

You’d grown accustomed to his presence, his scent often able to calm any anxiety or qualms you felt. He had noticed, of course, he wasn’t a Spymaster for nothing. But Azriel did not mention the change in you whenever he was around. 

He basked in it, in the way you appeared so much more comfortable with him. You weren’t afraid to speak up, to ask questions or acknowledge whatever was on your mind. 

You were coming out of your shell and it warmed Azriel’s heart to know that he was somewhat of the cause for it. 

“What does salacious mean?”

Azriel blinked repeatedly as your voice broke him from his thoughts. Salacious? His throat tightened. You’d often ask for definitions of things you were unsure on, sometimes even asking how to pronounce words you had never come across. 

But salacious? 

“Are you reading Nesta’s romance novels?” He quirked a brow. 

Your lips involuntarily pouted at him, your own brows furrowing just slightly as you rested the open book back into your blanket-covered lap. “Yes. Why?”

Anxiety creeped its way into your stomach, rooting deep into your flesh from the inside out. Reminders of how this used to go flashed through your mind and suddenly, it felt like you were back in the village, back in the mortal lands and living with Rafe. 

A tendril of darkness peaked at the corner of your vision and you focussed on it, watching it slowly dance across your knuckles and weave between your fingers in a calming manner. 

Shadows. Azriel. Library. Velaris. Safe. 

And just like that, the anxiety un-clawed its roots and crept away. 

Azriel nodded ever so slightly to the book, knowing exactly what had just happened with you but acting as if he didn’t. “Salacious means…having inappropriate interest in sexual matters.”

There was no hiding the heat on your cheeks—the way it burned your soft skin. You tore your gaze from his as quickly as you could, unable to contain your slight shame and embarrassment. 

But Azriel did not mind one bit. 

Azriel had secrets. He supposed that being the Night Court’s Spymaster, it was to be expected. But these secrets were different from the others, something he kept locked tight in his mind for the past month. 

And it wasn’t the secrets that had him moving closer and spending all of his time in the lower level of the House. No. That was very much you and your presence and whatever it was in your soul that called out to his. 

He couldn’t stay away—though, it wasn’t like he even tried—for that pull was far too strong for even his willpower. 

He had suspicions. Suspicions of a golden thread that started in his chest and ended in yours. He knew it was far fetched, knew he was only hurting himself by entertaining the complete insanity of the idea. 

You were human. Mortal. And mortals didn’t have mates. He told himself so every day, and right after, like clockwork, he countered his own sound advice with the one thing that had been troubling him the most.

Because what mortal could plant and bloom a patch of tulips with nothing more than a thought and a touch. What mortal could speak so clearly to the earth and create life right before another’s eyes. 

Despite the possible threat that could pose for his court and his family, Azriel had kept that tidbit of information to himself. Just for now. Just until he could make sense of it. Then, and only then, would he bring that information to light. 

Because Azriel did not feel any ounce of danger or ill intent from you. He did not feel anything but warmth and intrigue and that godforsaken sensation when you grew excitable over something. 

He couldn’t take that from you. Not when you were finally coming out of your shell, finally talking and laughing and going as far as joining him and Cassian for training twice a week. 

“If sex makes you uncomfortable, there are other romance novels without that.”

Heat warmed your skin again. Shadows dared to intertwine with your fingers. 

“No, it’s not that.” You played with his shadows, allowing them to caress your skin. “Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’ve just never had a good enough experience to understand much.”

He didn’t push, didn’t ask further questions. You wouldn’t be embarrassed for this, for something that was not your fault. You wouldn’t cower anymore, hide what you felt or thought. No longer would there be repercussions for speaking your mind. 

So you spoke again. 

“Rafe was the only person I’d ever…it’s just different to read it, to have it described as something enjoyable.”

Azriel’s knuckles turned white. Something enjoyable. He’d never experienced it to be anything but. His soul almost cleaved in two at the thought of what you’d endured. 

Azriel dared to glance at you again. “Sex with the right person can be very enjoyable. It should be nothing but beautiful.”

He stiffened then, blood thumping in his ears. His shadows stilled, noticing the shift in your scent just as their master had. Sweet, all consuming arousal, and Azriel did not miss the way your thighs pressed together in impulse. 

He swallowed thickly. 

You broke his gaze, your own heart thumping sporadically as you stared at the pages on your lap. You couldn’t help your mind wandering to thoughts of him, of experiencing that with him. You knew it was wrong. So, so wrong. 

“The thought of being intimate like that with someone new…” You couldn’t find the words to express the fear and anxiety that came with that thought.

Azriel listened intently, breathing deeply. 

“I want to experience life the way it should be experienced. Not the way others have pushed it upon me.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his book on his knee. “You control your life now, nobody else. If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.”

You wondered then if he could see into your mind as Rhysand could. If he could feel that shift in the air. If he could smell it on you. That want and desire. You would not apologise for it. Not anymore. 

“But if it feels wrong, is that not my guts way of warning me?” You countered. 

Azriel smiled, just barely. His knuckles still white. “It’s your guts way of protecting you. Because you’ve never experienced anything beyond what others bestowed upon you.”

Gods above. 

An ache fluttered in your chest, just above your breast and you absentmindedly rubbed at it, disrupting the neckline of your shirt. Azriel’s eyes squinted at the exposed skin, at the mark that adored your flesh. 

“Are you hurt?” His tone was primal, protective. 

You paused your movements, following his gaze. “Oh, no.” You pulled your shirt a little lower. “Just a birthmark.”

He needed to compose himself, needed to stop allowing his mind to wander about other areas of your concealed skin. He felt like nothing more than a big brute. 

Your soft, airy giggle woke him from his daze and he looked over to find tendrils of darkness caressing any inch of your skin that they could. Gods, if he didn’t have a leash on his emotions around you, how could he control his damned shadows. 

“It’s like they have a mind of their own.”

They didn’t. But he couldn’t correct you. Not without exposing the fact that they only fed off their masters emotions and desires. Not without exposing the fact that Azriel wished he was the one touching your skin and not his shadows. 

He swallowed again, throat dry. 

“Nesta told me that they’re an extension of yourself. That they only act if you will it.” You didn’t know why you said it, why you thought you had the right to speak that truth. 

But you would not apologise, even as Azriel remained silent for a few moments. Partly out of shock, partly in awe. But that was another thing he would not speak aloud. 

“Sometimes they can act on behalf of my emotions. My desires and wants.”

You dared to meet his honey eyes. “And that’s what you want?” You were breathless, a feeling in your stomach that you’d never once experienced before. “You want to touch me?” 

Neither of you knew where this confidence had come from, but Azriel did not question it and you did not apologise. 

He shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t repeat the words that echoed in his mind and soul and body. But, Gods…he could not seem to regain any semblance of control when he stared into your eyes. He could not lie to you, could not hide what he felt. 

“I want to do a lot of things.” The admittance was barely audible, nothing more than a breath he’d been holding but you heard it all the same. As though you’d demanded the words out of him. 

You couldn’t look away, even if you tried. Your entire being was encapsulated by him. Your chest heaved, legs ached. The shadows slowly left your shoulders and neck, returning to their previous position at your fingers. 

“But above all, I want you to be comfortable. Happy.” 

Something compelled you to stand, the shadows seemingly guiding you to their master as your book toppled to the couch. He watched with a hungry gaze, one full of faltering self-control. 

If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.

Take it. 

Take it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” 

The shadows moved like a breeze between you both, tugging you closer and closer. Nothing else mattered, not in that moment. Not when your soul felt like it was singing, like it was exactly where it longed to be. 

Azriel stood slowly, towering above you once at his full height. You strained your neck to meet his gaze and he bent his to come closer. You could feel his breath dance with yours, could feel his hard chest press upon your soft one. 

No part of you felt nervous, no part of you felt unworthy. 

But Azriel…he didn’t know what to do. For weeks he’d been dreaming of this moment, dreaming of the taste of your lips, the touch of your skin. He slowly raised a scarred hand to caress your warm cheek, and you didn’t cower or shy away from his touch. 

A test, perhaps. To see if you really could handle the intimacy of another male so soon after what you’d endured. You didn’t falter, didn’t break his gaze. He wanted you, more than he ever wanted anything else before. 

“What you went through…”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you cut him off. “That was then, this is now. I don’t want to live in the past.”

Take it.

Take it. 

Your lips…so close to touching his. 

The shadows swirled in delight, excitement.

Azriel knew this wouldn’t be just a kiss. This wouldn’t be meaningless. He felt it, in every part of him, he felt the way your entire being sang to his. He wanted to lay his soul bare before you. 

He itched to brush your hair behind your ear, to hold you and taste you. But Rhysand’s voice echoed through his mind, beckoning him for his assistance. He closed his eyes, huffed out a breath.

“Rhys is calling for me.” 

Azriel stepped away, removed his palm from your skin. You swallowed, stepping back and letting your eyes fixate on the rug beneath your feet. He cleared his throat, struggling to reign in those shadows of his. 

“I’ll come to you tonight…we can talk then.”

But had Azriel waited just a few moments longer, had he given into the urge to brush your hair from your face, he would’ve noticed the slight point that had formed at the top of your ears. 

Azriel didn’t meet you in your chambers that night. And you didn’t see him the next morning. Or the day after that. 

Cassian had mentioned that Rhys sent him on a mission. That he would be back in a few days. 

But something was wrong, you could feel it in every inch of your body. An ache that only got worse with every passing moment. You tried to ignore it, tried to relax in a hot bath with soothing lavender oils. Nothing relieved the pain. Nothing soothed the ache.

And when you left your bathroom and found your once round ears now pointed, and a trail of tulips following in your wake, your legs carried you toward the kitchen before you had a moment to consider it. Cassian and Nesta sat at the table, giggling over their breakfast when you stumbled toward them. 

“What’s happening?” Your panicked tone caught their attention, eyes wide as they stood and took in what lay before them. 

From the stone ground, moss and grass and flowers bloomed as though you stood in the middle of a field. Daisies and buttercups sprouted in your hair, roots of trees tangling around your limbs. 

Everything was so loud yet muffled. Like every word was screamed in your ear but somehow underwater as Cassian called out frantically to Rhysand. Neither of them went near you, even when Rhys flew through the open balcony doors, Feyre in tow. 

They looked at you with nothing less than concern and fear. 

“What in the Gods is happening to me?!” You demanded. 

Rhysand held Feyre back as she attempted to near you, his gaze locked on you as he assessed the situation. But it wasn’t the flowers or grass or roots that he watched. It was you, and the way your crescent-moon birthmark glowed something violet. 

Rhys had known, had suspected something lay dormant within you. From that moment he entered your mind, when he gazed upon that luscious field that seemed to call to you with promises of something new. 

He’d never witnessed such before. Not in the most powerful of Fae had he ever stumbled across that. 

With a very careful step forward, his gaze demanded yours. Feyre had told him of your mother, of her death and your marriage to Rafe. And his voice was soft when he finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since. 

“What happened the night your mother died?” 

The world went still, cold. Feyre whirled to him in protest. 

“Rhys—“

“—it was a house fire.” 

All eyes turned to you, to the patches of bloom that haltered their growth. 

Rhysand took another step closer. “Where were you?” 

“I—“

A heat unlike any other licked at your skin, waking you from your peaceful slumber. A heat so unwelcomed that you bolted upright in a sheen of your own sweat. 

You could hear the wood of your cottage crackling under a burning flame, and smoke quickly infiltrated your room. You coughed, attempting to swat it away as you squinted in the darkness. 

“Mama!?” You called out, panic stricken in your voice and body. 

Fear began to cripple you, began to take away any sense of self preservation. You couldn’t leave your bed. Your door now engulfed in flames, you screamed. 

“Help! Someone, please help!”

No one was coming. This was the end. You couldn’t move, couldn’t get to your beloved mother. A shrill cry, unlike anything you’d ever heard before, split your heart in two. 

A scream of pure agony and fear tore through your throat, your eyes clenched shut as you gave your body over to the fire. 

Only the next breath you breathed was clean and cold. And your sheets were no longer beneath you, no. Now you laid on the rich soil outside of your home, your fingers rooting themselves into the dirt. 

You screamed and sobbed, unable to do anything but watch as the fire claimed your home and your mother. 

You were sobbing, collapsed to the ground as you struggled to breathe at the memory. 

Rhysand dared another step closer, kneeling before you now and his eyes held such sorrow, such remorse. 

“Y/N…” he spoke softly. “Was your mother ever accused of being a witch?” 

Nesta seethed, threatening. “Rhysand, that’s—“

“How do you know that?” Everything felt very, very still. No one should have known that. No one of these lands should have known that. 

Rhys didn’t answer your question. And despite the sound of large wings breezing through the sky, you did not look away from the High Lord. Not even as Azriel rushed into the House and his heart sunk at what he bore. 

“The day I entered your mind and took some of your pain away, I felt something. Something within you that I have never, in my 500 years of life, felt before.”

Azriel took a step closer. He should have said something when he first noticed the flowers. Because now, whatever power you had…it was consuming you. 

“I’d like to try something,” Rhysand proposed. 

You struggled to keep your breathing even. “What is it?” 

Another step closer, a warm hand on yours. 

“I’d like to enter your mind as far back as it will allow me. Just to see if I can find something.”

Violet eyes watched yours. “Find what?”

He squeezed your hand in reassurance. “Something to make sense of this.”

A moment of pause, to take in your surroundings. The flowers and soil had sprouted to cover the entire expanse of the lounge floor, your friends and cousins standing just beyond the brush of it. 

Eyes flickered to something hazel. Azriel. He stood in the soil, flora coating his ankles and he struggled to keep a tight leash on the shadows that fought to reach you. 

You looked back at Rhysand. 

“Will it hurt?” 

He shook his head. “No, not if you don’t resist.” 

That suddenly sounded an awful lot like your past. Memories of Rafe pinning you to the bed—scolding, reprimanding, promising no pain if you didn’t resist. 

This wasn’t like that, you had to remind yourself. You were safe. They only wanted to help. To understand. 

Azriel stepped closer, ignoring the silent warning that Rhysand whispered into his mind. A scarred hand out held, you took it. And Rhysand took that moment of distraction to enter your mind. 

The first memory he saw was one from just days before. You and Azriel reading in the library, the shadows that swirled your fingers and arms, the near-kiss that escalated into nothing. 

He dug deeper. The next, of you and Azriel again, exploring the city where you left a trail of green and brown tulips in your wake on the embankment of the river. 

Deeper and deeper, until the memories showed you living in the mortal lands. A blow to the face, to your stomach and your head. Rafe seething above you as he shouted and belittled you. 

Deeper, to a memory of your husband pinning you to the mattress, of his body crushing yours as he stole everything you never offered. 

Every memory Rhysand met, you re-lived them. 

A little deeper and he was watching you at the Archeron household, helping Elain plant seeds, watching Feyre paint, reading with Nesta. 

Deeper and deeper he went, passing the memories of the fire, of your mother, until he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“She is my child too, Selenthia. You cannot keep her from me.” A voice you did not recognise. A memory you did not recall. 

“For her protection, I will do what I must.” Selenthia seethed, coddling you closer to her chest. “No one can know what she is, or she’ll be hunted for the rest of her life.”

The unknown male huffed. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, strong and commanding. But there was something about him. Something not quite right. 

“So you plan to lock her away for the rest of her life?”

Selenthia bared her teeth. “I would never lock my child away. She will live her life as a mortal. I won’t subject her to a life like mine or yours.”

A moment of silence. “You cannot hide her from what she is.” He spoke softer now, edging close to peer at you, his daughter. 

“What do you plan to do when she first bleeds? When her ears point and her power grows—“

“That won’t happen.” There was no room for discussion in Selenthia’s voice. She placed a finger over your heart, a familiar violet glow permitting from her skin to yours. 

“What are you doing?” That male’s voice, cold once more. 

“I’m burying her power. So long as this wyrd remains on her skin, she’ll be safe.”

Selenthia pulled away, just enough to take a look at the mark that marred your skin. A mark two shades darker than the rest of your flesh, the shape of a crescent moon and no larger than a fingernail. 

“There. Nothing more than a birthmark.”

Rhysand retreaded from your mind, panting and shaking. Tears streamed down his flushed face, your own skin staining with silver, too. 

“What is it?” Nesta demanded, daring a step closer. 

But those tulips and daisies and buttercups…the soil and grass and roots, they all began to sink into the ground until nothing but the florals in your hair remained. 

“My mother…she…she was a witch. A healing earth witch. And my father—he…”

“Your father was Fae.” Azriel breathed, his eyes focused on the point of your ears that peeked through your hair and flowers.

“He was of the Night Court. A High Fae male.” Rhysand added gravely. 

Azriel’s hold on the shadows loosened and he allowed them to caress you, comfort you. Your hand never left his. 

You pulled away from Rhysand, clutching at your chest—at that crescent moon you always thought was a birthmark. Your mothers protection all along. 

“When you crossed the wall into the Fae lands, your power tried to break through. It was your mothers mark that had been keeping it buried with you all these years.” 

You dared a look at your cousins. But they looked at you with nothing but sorrow and anguish. No fear. They did not fear you, they did not pity you. In their eyes all you could see was longing. A longing for you to no longer live in such agony and hardships. 

“Our mothers were sisters. Does that mean—“

“I don’t think so,” Rhysand cut you off. “If they held the magic you do, I believe their power would have shown by now. They were Made. So it’s possible the Cauldron could’ve interfered with it if that were the case.” 

It was too much. All of it. Reliving those memories again, seeing your father… You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have magic and powers. You could not be half Fae, half witch. 

It would be easy to give up. It would be so easy to ignore it until it killed you. So easy to just let go of everything. But a pounding in your soul begged you not to. Begged you to fight with everything you had. Begged you to live. 

“Burn the mark.” 

All attention snapped to you, flickering from your face to the mark on your chest that finally stopped glowing. 

“Are you insane?” Nesta seethed. 

You looked at her. “I don’t think I’d be far off to guess that if I don’t burn this mark, this…power will consume me entirely. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be so lost because I have no idea who I am. This is who I am, whether I like it or not. I won’t run anymore.”

Feyre stepped closer, crouching to your level and taking your spare hand in hers. Azriel still held tight to the other. “If you wish to burn it, it will unleash whatever power you have at full force. You don’t have any training, any control over it.” 

You felt sick to your stomach. “I don’t want to die, Fey.” 

And that was enough to enrage Feyre in a way she’d never once felt before. “You are not going to die. Do you understand me?”

Azriel squeezed your hand, begging for you to look at him. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him looking at you any different than he had three days ago. 

“Rhys, fetch Madja. We will burn the mark in a controlled environment. Where any fallout can be contained.”

You shook your head, not willing to risk a single soul because of your selfish decision to live. 

“No,” you said. “Drop me to the mountains and I’ll burn it myself.”

Nesta scoffed. “Oh, you are insane.”

You seethed at her. The first ounce of anger you’d truly shown. The first time you’d ever directed it at anyone but yourself. 

“This isn’t your decision. I will not risk anyone. Azriel can take me to the mountains and you can all keep your distance. At least until it’s safe.”

Until it’s safe. As if you knew for certain you’d survive it. You truly weren’t sure you would. There was nothing more to discuss, your tone made that clear enough. 

“Fly me, winnow me…whatever. Just do it now before I change my mind.”

Within a blink, your body was shivering and you were no longer in the House of Wind. Shadows encased your entire body, darkness swarming every inch of you. You said nothing as Azriel held you, nothing at all as he flew you across Velaris and toward the highest mountain just outside of the city. 

Only when he landed, when he refused to remove his hold from you, did the darkness dissipate and hazel eyes gazed into yours. 

“I’m staying with you.” 

“No, you’re not. I won’t risk your life, Azriel.” 

He set you to your feet, holding your hands now to keep you close. A plea of desperation swam in his eyes, his entire body yearning to take you and find another way to fix this. 

“There is no other option. If I don’t burn this mark, I don’t know what my power might do. It might kill me, it might destroy this city. I cannot risk anyone’s life for mine.”

Azriel parted his lips to speak but you shook your head, squeezing his hands. 

“If I don’t survive this—“

“Don’t.”

“Please, listen to me.” Silver lined your eyes, blurring your vision. “If I don’t survive this, I want you to know how special your friendship has been to me. How much I care for you, for your family.” A sob tore through your throat. “And I am so incredibly sorry for burdening you all in this way.” 

You reached on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his. Warmth and love and the most raw emotion could be felt between you both. An apology for not having longer, a prayer that there would still be time. 

A fuse lit within the pit of your stomach, in the pit of Azriel’s. Tears stained your lips, stained his. In that moment, you were one. Whole, as though you always should have been. 

You pulled away first, forcing your hands from his hold. You took several steps back, blinking through the distorted vision and swiping away and evidence of the fear that crippled you. 

A puff of violet darkness misted beside Azriel as Rhysand winnowed to the mountains. Pain flicked through his eyes, regret and the same sorrow you saw in your cousins. 

You did not meet his gaze. 

“Summon a fire.”

He did as you asked. And handed you a blade. 

You did not grant them another look, did not give into the pleading in your mind to watch them leave. Or else you would’ve seen Rhysand drag Azriel off that mountain. You would’ve seen the anguish on the Shadowsingers face. 

Alone. As you had been your whole life. Though the weeks spent in Velaris had given you a taste of what could’ve been. You’d treasure those memories in the Hereafter. Those and the precious ones of your late mother. 

For they were all you had left. 

You did not allow another tear to fall. Not as you hovered the blade over the flame, not as you tugged your shirt down and took a deep breath. 

For if all you were ever meant to be was a ghost in the wind, you were content to know you’d reunite with your mother soon. Where you would no longer feel such pain. 

You didn’t want to die. But if this was all the time you were fated to have, then so be it. Better you than someone else. 

“Keep them safe.” A whisper to the winds, if they deigned to listen. 

With a final breath, you pressed the scorching blade against the mark on your skin and the entirety of your captive power unleashed upon the mountain as your body allowed it to consume you. Until you saw and heard and felt nothing at all. 

From below, the city shook, a thundering boom and a gust of aftershock and pelting mountain debris that blew the Inner Circle back. 

Then there was silence. 

And Azriel’s soul bellowed. 

a/n: so a LOT happened in this chapter and there is still a lot more to happen, i'm hoping i can fit it into two parts but it may be stretched into three, we'll have to see!! i'm so grateful for all the love you guys have been giving this series and i am so excited for you to find out how it all ends!!

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

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[sturniqloo]

° FRIENDSHIP WAS NEVER FRIENDSHIP °

pairing: Chris Sturniolo & fem!reader (friends to lovers)

in which: you felt a spark,but you thought it was just in your head.

~ warnings:not much honestly,fluff,kissing,makeout,not much details,English is not my first language! ~

You and Chris had been best friends for as long as you could remember.

From childhood pranks to late-night deep talks, you had experienced just about everything together. There was an undeniable chemistry between you two, something that felt different but natural,as if the universe had always meant for the two of you to be in each other’s lives.

For years, you’d always maintained that boundary—best friends,nothing more,nothing less. But as time went on, the line between friendship and something else blurred,and you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt it too. Chris had always been so easygoing, so playful, and at times a little bit reserved when it came to his emotions.

But something was different recently.

It all started a couple of months ago when you both started hanging out more often. Just the two of you, watching movies, grabbing coffee, and talking about things that you didn’t even share with anyone else.

It was one of those nights that changed everything.

It was late, and you were both at Chris’s place. You’d just finished watching a movie, and now you were sprawled on the couch,casually scrolling through your phone while Chris was lying beside you,his head resting on your shoulder.

“I’m kinda bored” Chris said with a soft chuckle.

You could feel the weight of his body against yours, the subtle warmth of his skin a reminder of how close you two had grown.

“You’re always bored” you teased, nudging him lightly with your elbow. He laughed,and you could feel his fingers brush against yours,almost like he was testing the waters.

“I don’t know… I just feel different lately” Chris murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You glanced over at him. “What do you mean?"

He hesitated for a moment, then sat up slightly, turning his head toward you.

“I don’t know… It’s just… when I’m around you, I feel like I’m not pretending. Like I can just be myself, you know?”

You nodded, trying to keep things casual.

“You’ve always been yourself around me, Chris.” Your voice slightly unsure for a reason you didn't know,but it held that little reassurance that made him feel better.

“I know” he said,his voice dropping lower.

“But lately…it’s different. Like,when I’m around you,I feel…safe. And sometimes,I just want to…let go, y’know?”

His words hung in the air for a moment,and for the first time,you felt an undercurrent of something more between the two of you. Something that had been building for a while but hadn’t been said out loud until now.

'let go...' - words that made your heart clench in a weird way,it was like a trigger.

You stayed quiet,unsure of how to respond. The room felt charged with a new energy, and you couldn’t ignore the way your heart beat just a little faster.

You noticed little things that Chris did in the past few days- no..weeks.—small gestures, moments where he seemed to seek you out more than usual, or when his touch lingered just a little too long. It was like he was testing the boundaries, pushing to see if you’d notice.

There was a long pause, and then Chris did something you didn’t expect. He looked up at you, his eyes wide and vulnerable, and for the first time, you saw a different side of him—one that wasn’t the usual playful, confident Chris, but something deeper. Something quieter.

Chris leaned in, his face close to yours, and his breath hitched slightly.

“I don’t know how to…how to make this right” he murmured. “But I want to. I really do. With you."

You took a deep breath, your heart pounding in your chest. You hadn’t expected this to be where things went, but now that it was here, you couldn’t ignore how you felt. You cared about Chris—deeply—and you knew that whatever this was, you were willing to explore it.

The atmosphere in the room shifted, and you both understood what was happening. There was no pressure, no expectations—just an unspoken agreement that whatever you two explored, it would be on your terms. And that made everything feel safe.

You leaned in, your lips brushing against his,the sudden touch so light but so..electric,it was like it was pulling you both against each other. Like a force. Soon enough it was more,you both fight for dominance in a heated makeout session,Chris's hands roaming all over you,touching...exploring.

The night ended like that. With you two laying cuddled up on the same couch it started...the same one where it was just playful flirting as a joke,now it was real. It was like a dream came true,for both you and Chris.

This was today,and no one could expect it would end like this,confessing and being real to each other,the friendship was never only friendship,it was always something more..but in secrets. Who knows what tomorrow can bring?

That felt like the beginning of something new. Something intimate, something tender.

author's note: this was little quick fluffy fic i had in my mind for some time! sorry of its not the best guys,but lmk what you think! and give me some ideas for more lmao. ♡

° Lili's corner °

no pressure tags: @chrislilcumslvt @adoreechxmpion @strnilolover @luvleyangeldust @luvrbrii @sturniioloslut @chrislova @cockettechris @pr3ttylittleslutt

[marsmaximoff]

🪩; club pentagon 𖦹₊⋆☾

content warning: ‘long haired’ fem!reader. suggestive. drugs, alcohol.

word count: 1.4k 💜

author’s note: y’all idk what’s happening to me. like i swear when i watched the show i didn’t care about him. in fact i didn’t even like him. and now i can’t stop thinking about his hot face and hands 😔 expect more fics to come cause i’m going crazy. btw, i apologize for the possible mistakes as english is my third language. enjoy <3!

divider by @strangergraphics <3

the colorful lights create a shiny veil over the club. the music reverberating throughout the place, accompanied by loud, excited screams and intoxicated voices, acts as a barrier to the real world.

while i wait for my friend to come back from the bathroom, a guy catches my eye, separated from the rest, in a corner. he must be around my age, a bit older. and i don’t know what it is exactly, but something immediately lures me in. something about his aura, his vibe.... maybe it’s the dark hair, or the tattoos on his arm, the way he’s talking to the man next to him like he’s important... 

he looks hot. and like a total dick too. 

“you like him?” your friend inquires cheekily, noticing your stare. “i haven’t seen him before.” you don’t forget someone like him. his tall frame and dark clothes adding to the arousing pull i’m feeling. “he’s the reason we’re here. i found the club through him; he promotes it.” “do you know him?” there’s a growing curiosity inside of me, to know more, “not at all”, to get closer. “he looks like a playboy,” she declares, to which i can only agree. “an attractive one, tho.”

on cue, as if he had heard us -impossible given the distance- he takes his eyes from that man and locks his gaze on mine, sending a flutter through my stomach. but i don’t shy away, seeing his eyes go down my body, checking me out, unashamedly. a hussy grin accompanies the action while i keep the intense eye contact going for some time before turning around and heading back to the dance floor. as i do, i feel his gaze slide over my body and smile to myself, satisfied, trying to sensualize my walk a bit.

the night continues as usual: drinks, dancing, some flirting here and there, all that still carrying a boost of confidence from that previous interaction. 

eventually, i take a break sitting by the counter, and almost in no time, a smell of cigarettes, alcohol, and something else surrounds me. 

“hey” he speaks with confidence and a certain ego; the grin is back where it had been before. he leans on the bar and studies me, daringly, carefully. that seems to fuel my boldness, because my hand moves almost instantly towards his face, slowly. he doesn’t back away or stop me; he doesn’t even flinch. i gather the remaining white powder from the warm skin right over his upper lip with a finger and lower it, showing it to him. “oops, my bad,” he says playfully while grabbing my wrist. then, he brings it to his mouth and licks it off my fingertip without one of us breaking eye contact for a single second. holy. fuck. afterwards, he laughs softly, my heart rate going crazy, “want some? i only have the best.” i shake my head, choosing to keep my drifting lucidity. 

my gaze travels down his body until reaching his tattooed arm. “you like ‘em?” “i dont see many people around who have them” “yeah…bunch of pussies. these didnt hurt at all, you know.” the smugness of his words an obvious sign of his eagerness to impress. “you got more?” “oohh, someone’s interested…” i scoff finding his teasing annoying, yet unable to deny the way i have to press my lips together to hold back a smile. “i love tattoos” “yeah? wanna touch?” his comments come off so nonchalantly, flirting a natural habit of his. “i mean, you've already gone for my mouth...” his voice lowers a bit, having the clearly much-expected effect on me, and i give in, my yearning taking my fingers to his arm. the smooth and steamy flesh welcomes me with a satisfying shiver, and the hitch of his breath makes me slow down, caressing softly, seductively. 

i don't know if he's trying to contain himself, or enjoying it too much, but i see him biting his lip, and it feels so good to find a tiny crack in his confident facade, the growing heat in my belly seconding it. the initial trace of ink becomes a search of his now more prominent veins, up and down. “i like how it looks.” i give him a final graze, but this time it’s my hand that strokes his arm all the way down his slender, ring-adorned fingers which i hold and toy with before letting go to replace them with my drink, leaving him all greedy for more. his skin on fire. 

he’s affected now, trying to break the spell, attempting to somehow regain control while his breathing’s all over the place. cute. 

the drink sugars my senses, but it’s not nearly as sweet as the feel of him. 

“you like the club?” he goes back to his usual self, his comfort zone, something he can proudly show off. “yeah, i like the ambience”  “i can show you around…this place’s my second home.” i know what he's doing, using an excuse to move this somewhere quieter, more private, more comfortable…. but i decide to play a bit with him. “i don’t know… i'm really enjoying this area.” he smirks, “and it only gets better, we don't leave the best within reach of just anyone”, getting closer. “so you’re saying you'll make it worth my time?” he pokes his cheek with his tongue, turning me on even more. fucking tease. “in fact you'll regret it if you don't come.”  “mmm…im not sure…maybe i need a preview….” his face is mere millimeters from mine, giving me a perfect view of the mischievous look that takes over his. then, he grabs a small bag from his pocket -more white powder- and pushes my hair away from my shoulder, the contact leaving goosebumps everywhere. when the bareness pleases him, an unfamiliar feeling covers my skin. and then i realize, he’s pouring it on me. jesus christ. he leaves a shivery trail up to my neck, molding it to get a perfect line. his hot breath is getting me dizzy, his hand enveloping the other side of my neck, his allure a dangerous mix with the alcohol. he snorts the line in one, the tip of his nose tickling my burning skin. “yesss, shit baby”, he groans huskily underneath my ear, adding a bit of pressure with his hand, and i feel my wetness starting to become uncomfortable. 

he’s laughing when he pulls back, “how’s that for a preview?”, finishing rubbing the remains of his nose. but i can only focus on his fingers, fuck. i need more. “not bad” i try so hard to think of something witty, flirty, to keep the back and forth going, but i can’t. my brain is foggy, my body is flaming, and my belly is killing me with all those damn backflips. “not bad? that’s not nice of you….imma have to do something about that attitude of yours…” i stand up from the stool, suddenly desperate to get out of there. “maybe i do need that tour, a change from the loud music and everything” god i’ve truly become pathetic. and it seems to amuse him, “yeah? i thought you liked the ambience here….” “and i thought you said you’d make it worth my time” i make him smirk again, what a damn sight, and before i know it he’s taking me who knows where.

the moment the door closes behind us, my back is pushed to the wall, his arms caging me. this time, his eyes stay on my lips while he bites his. “fuck, you’re so hot” i can’t hold it anymore. the praise gets to him and makes him snap, harshly pressing our mouths together. the kiss is rough, desperate, as if we were running out of time. i let out a muffled moan as he brings me closer to his warm body and slides one hand towards my neck, adding some pressure. i’ve never had such a messy, intense kiss before, it makes my legs weak. he keeps asserting dominance the whole time, and bites my lip before pulling back and heading towards my neck. 

my moans get louder as i feel him leaving hickeys all over my skin. “it’s namgyu”, he corrects me, hovering over my flesh. but the blood is already pounding in my ears. “huh?” 

 “i want you to know what to moan”

[takimakiiiii]

The Adventures of Loverboy and Twinkle Toes ~

lando norris x driver!female & platonic!grid x reader

angst, fluff, more angst with a dash of extra angst + established relationship + breakup 

¡happy ending! dw, i’m not that mean

TW: swearing/profanity, bullying

WC: around 1k-ish?

disclaimer!: not all of these stats are accurate and the timeline doesn’t stick to the 2019 as it had to change for the story also the drivers had to be shuffled around for the story to make sense. basically it’s a big of a mess ALSO THERE IS USE OF Y/N IN THIS FIC

a/n: this has been sitting in my notes app for the last few month cuz i got bored one night at 3am

ALSO THE STARTING IS SO CHEESY SO LIKE BARE WITH ME IT GETS BETTER I SWEAR 😭

also with the driving parts it’s so bad okay I don’t even know what I’m talking and so pls don’t hate on me 

sorry if it’s so bad I just wanted to finally post this so it doesn’t die w me in my notes app

<—————————————————————————————————>

You first met Lando Norris at the ripe age of 8 and my god was he an asshole. A constant pain in the ass, he attended the same private British school you did in Bristol, an academy for only the brightest and well, richest in the country.

Lando Norris’s family was a wealthy and famous one too, it wasn’t a secret. Yours, on the other hand wasn’t, and that too wasn’t much of a secret either. You’d gotten a scholarship to attend the academy after winning a competition. And from the minute you stepped into the school Lando Norris never failed to make you feel like you didn’t belong there. 

You came from a line of mechanics and at a young age your Father got you into karting. And it was clear you had a talent for it.

Well as expected, it didn’t sit well with Lando, you were the only girl. It didn’t sit well with any of the boys who you karted with. That brought along of other things too, you were treated like a boy, something that you’d come to expect whenever you stepped onto the track. The boys would call you horrible names, something such a young girl shouldn’t be hearing, they’d belittle your wins and make you feel like shit.

You were a girl who’d fallen for a boy’s sport. 

Something Lando would constantly remind you over and over again - that you didn’t belong there. Not at the fancy rich academy and definitely not on the race track. Only to make matters worse, he was incredible at karting. By the time you were both seniors at the academy he was already well on his way to the glory of F1.

Yet somehow you both were always the ones battling in that final lap, perhaps that’s what made him hate you so much was because you offered something no one else could:  competition. 

“Hey Twinkle Toes, you’ve got balls coming back onto the track after what you pulled last time.” a voice cut through the silence of the garage.

That same voice that had been annoying you for years on end, snapped you from your train of thought. You looked up and saw Lando pulling his gloves on, looking down on you as you sat on the steps of the garage. Something inside you began to tick, like a bomb about to go off. 

He was referring to your last competition in which you’d pushed him off the track, unintentionally of course but he didn’t see it that way. He’d had a good yell at you afterwards in front of everyone, embarrassing you in front of all the other boys too. You clenched your fists as you stood up, yet his height was unmatched as you glared up at him. You hoped your face was able to match up the words that were about to leave your mouth. 

“Yeah? Well at least I have balls dipshit.” you retorted angrily as you picked your helmet up from the stairs. 

You turned around and he was now closer, a few mere centimetres away from your face. You nearly caught yourself jumping in surprise but managed to keep a collected face as he spoke. 

“If you try that again today you’re going to wish you never stepped foot onto that track. Got it, Twinkle Toes?” his voice was laced with poison as he stared straight down at you. You stared back into his deep green eyes that seemed to glint with a harshness you’d grown to hate. You poked your inner cheek as you bit back an insult, feeling heat rise to your cheeks. 

“Whatever you say, Loverboy.” you replied with a humorous chuckle as you walked past him. You could basically feel the anger radiating off him as you exited the garage, heading in the direction of the track as your pulled your helmet on. 

<—————————————————————————————————>

“What? Do you think you’re better at karting than me?” Lando asked as he lowered himself to your level, you were still sitting at your desk. His hands were down on the wooden table as he glowered down at you. Class had just finished for lunch and to explain it briefly - Lando wasn’t happy how the race had ended that weekend. 

“I don’t think I’m better than you, Lando Norris. I know I am. So why don’t you stop being such a dramatic prick and leave me alone.” you shot back with a smile, knowing that would piss him off. You picked up your books and stood up, he did the same, now towering over you once again. You could feel his eyes on you as you pulled your bag off the chair. 

“You’re so full of yourself, you don’t belong here Twinkle Toes, you never have and you never will. You’re a fucking outsider.” he replied, you swallowed hard, letting out a shaky breath. You knew you shouldn’t take his dumb remarks to heart but the words would often eat you alive because deep down you knew he was right. Surrounded by all these rich kids with their rich parents, compared to them you were absolutely nothing. 

“Fuck you, Norris.” you spat, inhaling slowly, looking away so he couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes. 

“Go cry about it.” 

And that’s how you found yourself sobbing in the bathrooms during lunch. 

You could hear hushed whispers outside of the stall as other girls walked in and out of the bathroom. You knew they could hear you crying, yet none of them had the decency to even ask if you were okay. Rich British  people were just like that, you guessed as you wiped your face with the back of your hand. 

“Is someone crying in there?” a girls voice whispered in a hushed tone outside of the stall, you could see two pairs of black shoes and white socks from underneath the door. 

“Yeah. I think it’s-“ the other girl replied, voice dropping low out of earshot. There were more hushed whispers before you heard one last remark.

“He’s such an asshole.” 

That, you could agree on. 

There was a moment of silence before a gentle knock came through from the other side of the door. Your heart jumped in your chest as you stared at the stall door, the girls on the other side still unknown.

“Hey girl? You okay in there?” one of the girls asked. You weren’t sure how to answer so you got to your feet and slowly unlocked the stall door. It swung open to reveal two girls, one a tall sun kissed girl with beautiful braids. The other, a pretty asian girl you recognised from French class, her name was Lisa or something. 

“Hi.” you finally said. There was a long dreading moment of silence as you waited for them to laugh in your face but it didn’t come. 

“It was what’s his name, Lanky Norris or something, right? He likes to pick you on, doesn’t he?” the tall girl asked, you instantly liked her. You let out a laugh through tears, the two girls smiled, success clear on their faces. 

“Yeah.” you nodded, wiping your face for any stray tears that still lingered on your cheeks. 

“He’s so annoying, the only reason he’s here is because his Daddy’s rich, ya know?” she grimaced as she crossed her arms.

“You’re also here because of your Daddy’s money, Sandy.” Lisa reminded her with a gentle nudge, you let out a laugh at Sandy’s frown. 

“Okay, calm your farm, girl. I’m trying to insult him to make our new friend here feel better.” she shot back, throwing an incredulous look your way as she shook her head. 

Lisa held her hands up in defence with a grin on her face. 

“Okay, okay. Well, Y/N, let’s get you out of here and get you something to eat.” she suggested. The two girls pulled you out from the bathroom stall and you left the bathroom with two new friends and a smile.

<—————————————————————————————————>

Lando had heard the rumours going around, two popular girls he wasn’t a big fan of had found you in the girl’s bathroom crying. He knew he was the one at fault for that, Lando knew you weren’t as strong as you came off to be. But he always let his pride and selfishness take over because the truth was you were right, you were better than him. And he knew it too. 

And that’s what pissed him off the most is that you were and would always be better than him. Not only at karting, in school and everything else too. 

He guessed he owed you an apology, the hard truth was that he sort of admired your strength, you weren’t as strong as you came off to be because you were much more stronger. He’d seen you be treated badly by most of the other boys on the track, but he was too much of a coward to stick up for you because that would mean his feelings for you would be obvious. If only you knew-

“What do you want, Norris?” 

He stopped in his tracks oblivious to the fact that he’s stopped right next to your locker. His palms instantly became clammy like they did each time he saw you as he attempted to find his words that had gotten caught in his throat. 

“I didn’t- I mean- “ he stumbled on his words, mentally cursing himself as he made a fool of himself in front of you.

You let out a scoff as you shut your locker door with a loud SLAM, gaining the attention of other students who lingered around, their eyes floating toward you both. Lando flinched from the sound, becoming aware of the surrounding eyes.

“Save it. Your words mean nothing but shit to me.” you spat angrily. 

Lando stood defeated as he watched you walk away. His heart was beating loudly in his ears, his mind was telling him to do something, but what? He didn’t know. 

“I’M SORRY!” he yelled at the top of his voice before he lost the courage to do anything at all. Everyone in the hallway stopped to stare at him. If people hadn’t been interested, they sure were now. A scarlet red hue appeared across his face as you slowly turned and walked up to him, a giant grin on your face. 

“What’d you say? I don’t think I heard it the first time?” you held your hand to your ear, propping up on your heels. He let out a sigh, you could be a big pain in the ass when you wanted to be. Yet he could still fell his heart beating ever so loudly in his chest.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled, aware of all the eyes now watching you both. 

“Didn’t catch that, wanna repeat it one more time?” you asked, a smile pulling at your lips as you leaned closer which only made his face redder. 

“Fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said all those thing. It was dumb and fucking stupid. You do belong here, hell you’re probably the only one who does, you didn’t use your parents money to get here unlike the rest of us. So, I’m sorry. You don’t deserve all of the shit I’ve put you through the last few years.”

You pulled away, staring him in the eyes you nodded. A silent thank you. 

“It’s alright, Norris. It’s no secret i’m better than you anyways.” you chimed with a laugh. Lando felt his heart flutter as your laugh echoed through the hallway. 

“C’mon, we have English class.” you turned on your heel and that’s all it took for Lando to follow after. 

<—————————————————————————————————>

School passed in a quick intense blur as both you and Lando graduated in no time. A couple months after becoming close friends you’d gotten together, a bit of a shock to everyone at school who’d only ever seen you fighting before. Especially Lisa and Sandy, whom you were still close with despite your busy schedule now.

Your relationship with Lando was going great, both of you had slowly moved from the ranks of F4 to F3 to F2 and now you were both at the age of 19 soon to make your F1 debuts. 

Lando had signed with McLaren, a team he’d had close ties with ever since he was a teenager his father was a close associate with Zak Brown. Lando alongside Carlos Sainz were to be the 2019 McLaren team.��

You, on the other hand had signed with Ferrari, a big dream ever since you were a young kid. You were going to be driving with Charles Leclerc, a guy who was like a god to your family. You’d be driving alongside some of the greatest drivers of all time, Lewis Hamilton, Max Verstappen, Fernando Alonso and many more. 

It was no secret that you were dating Lando, most of the public seemed to take it well and the media weren’t too concerned with trying to pry into your relationship. One thing you were thankful for. Yet you were oblivious to the fact that it might change once everything started in F1.

You knew with Formula 1 more obstacles would come your way and attempt to break you and Lando’s relationship, you just hoped it would be enough to stand it all.

“Hey love? You alright?” Lando’s voice sailed across the living room of your parents’ house from the kitchen. Your silence when he asked a question prompted him to check if you were okay.

“Yep.” you quickly replied, laughing when Lando poked his head from around the corner for the sole purpose to raise his eyebrows at you. 

“You sure? Wanna talk about it?” he offered, walking over to you and joining you on the couch. You smiled as you pressed up against him, pecking him gently on his cheek. 

“Just thinking about what it’ll be when the season starts.” you told him as he wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lean against him. His touch allowing a sense of peacefulness in the moment making you believe it would be okay. 

“Me too. It’s kinda of scary isn’t it? Everything we dreamt of is coming true.” Lando mused as he leant his head down against yours. You let out a gentle exhale, “Yeah.”

There was a long moment of calm silence as you both sat there in the comfort of one another. Lando drew circles on your palm with his fingers as you closed your eyes. 

“But. . .?” Lando offered, looking down at you with a soft smile. You chuckled, “You know me so well.” you grinned as you nestled your face in the crook of his neck.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked. 

You let out another sigh as you pulled away facing the tv that was playing FRIENDS. 

“It’s nothing, really. I’m just scared of what might happen to. . . us. You know? I’ve seen what can happen to couples when their lives are shoved into the spotlight.” you held your breath as you looked up at him, awaiting his reaction. 

He gently rested his head on yours again, relieving the tightness inside you. 

“That’s not going to happen to us, I promise, Twinkle Toes. I trust you, I trust us. I always have. Whatever happens we’ll get through it together” he assured you with such certainty it nearly made you believe him. You smiled, he always managed to make your heart flutter no matter how long you’d been together. The chemistry had managed to continue after all these years was unmatched.

“I love you, Loverboy.”

“Love you more, Twinkle Toes.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“ITS LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO.”

Your heart jumped inside your chest as you hit the accelerator, the car moving forward to your command. It almost didn’t seem real, the loud cheers of the people in the grandstands were one to rival a concert. 

It was the same exhilarating feeling each time you raced, pressure but nonetheless excitement resting on your shoulders. The first few laps went by smoothly, you were in P12 after beginning in P14 after qualifying. Not too bad if you could say so yourself.

Soon enough you found yourself in the second last lap, you were currently in P6 after a spinning out from Daniel Ric took out three other drivers. The commotion after that had lasted quite a while as everyone was forced to wait. But the race still continued,  a certain McLaren was on your tail as you both fought for P6. You were struggling to keep Lando at bay, defence was never one of your strengths. In this case it proved to be a big liability.

The waving checkered flag came around in no time as you and Lando crossed the finish line half a second apart. 

“Who’s pole?” you asked your radio engineer as you pulled off the race track, loud cheers greeting you as you stopped the car.

“Hamilton, P1, Verstappen P2 and Leclerc P3.” your radio engineer replied. 

“Sweet, that’s great for Charles.” you replied, “Good job guys, P6, that’s not half bad.” 

<—————————————————————————————————>

The 2019 Championship went by in a quick exhilarating blur. And so did 2020, 2021 and 2022. Covid posed a problem for a while but everyone managed. Lando and you had been stuck at home focusing on other things, he with his Twitch channel and you on your own things. 

Maybe you chose to ignore it, too focused on your career to pay attention to the cracks that had begun to surface in you and Lando’s relationship. 

So now here you were in off-season awaiting 2023. Both unsure of what to do with each other’s time after being away from one another for so long. 

“Hey, love? You going to come sit down and eat?” Lando’s voice called from the kitchen table. You’d moved in together in an apartment in Monaco not long after your first F1 season. A sense of hopelessness tainted his words, one you chose to ignore. 

“Yep! Give me like one second!” you yelled back from your bedroom. You knew you had to stop pretending everything was fine, it clearly wasn’t and you both knew it too. 

It was the time and the media at fault, something you would constantly tell yourself over and over again. Yet if you really thought about it you could only really blame yourself. There was no use in blaming all of those other things if it was just the two of you in the relationship.

You got up and walked into the dining room, smiling softly upon seeing Lando sitting down already. But the smile wasn’t reciprocated on his face and the one on yours had vanished by the moment you got to the table.

“Y/N, I think we need to talk.” he said gently, looking up at you. You let out a breath one you hadn’t noticed you were holding, nodding as you replied. “Yeah.” you breathed, the shakiness in your voice evident. 

You took a seat across from him and awaited for everything to spill out. 

“What’s been happening? What happened to us?” his simple words hung in silence as you found your own. 

“I don’t - I don’t know.” you admitted, unable to meet his eyes that you knew were filled with disappointment, you stared down at the plate in front of you.

“Then why haven’t we tried to fix it? Is this it? Do you not want to be with me anymore?” he asked, his voice breaking as he looked at you helplessly for your answer. Your heart jumped as you looked up at him, his face breaking your heart as they searched your eyes for an answer.

“No! Lando, of course I want to be with you, I just- I’m scared.” you inhaled, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. Your heart was thumping loud in your chest as you closed your eyes. 

“Scared of what?” Lando asked, reaching his hand across the table to hold yours. You took another breath in. . . and the words slipped out. 

“They want me to take your seat at McLaren.”

“What?”

“No- It’s not what it sounds like, I promise. I just found out, I swear. I was going to tell you when they told me but I-” you stammered as you searched to find some way to salvage from the damage that was now done. 

“When did you find out?” Lando asked, his hand had now retracted from holding yours and now at his side. Your lip wobbled, unable to lie to him you answered, your throat closing in on you. It was something impossible, a change in seats and teams being so close cut to the season? 

It was basically impossible and yet here you were. 

“At the end of last season.” you managed to say as your voice wobbled.

That was well off two months ago. 

You knew you should’ve told him the moment they suggested it to you. It would’ve been the right thing to do but you just could never find a good time to tell him. Yet that was just something you’d told yourself to make it seem better.

Lando let out a scoff, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked, standing out of his chair, a loud scraping noise filled the apartment, dinner on the table long forgotten. You stared up at him, regret tainted your face. 

You stood up too, reaching out for him. 

“I did, I mean I tried to. I just didn’t know how to tell you, they didn’t want me to. I know I should’ve told you. I’m sorry Lan, I really am.” you stammered, tripping over your own words. 

He pulled away from your grasp like you had burnt him. “I thought we were in this together, I trusted us, I thought you did too. But apparently not.”

“No, wait, Lando. Stop, where are you going?” you asked helplessly as you followed him to the door. He grabbed his keys from the kitchen bench, unable to look in your direction as he answered. 

“I have to go. Go somewhere away from you.” 

The front door slammed shut behind him and you collapsed against the wall in a heap of sobs. 

<—————————————————————————————————>

A week passed and Lando didn’t come back home. You called him, texted, all of them going to either voicemail or delivered and unanswered. 

You tried asking the other drivers of the grid whether they’d spoken to him but they all answered with the same thing: that he’d asked them to leave him alone for the time being.

You hated yourself right now. You should’ve told him the moment McLaren offered his seat to you. You had been scared that if he knew he’d leave, and well, keeping it from him resulted in just the same thing you wanted to avoid. 

You wanted to feel mad, mad at him because your selfishness couldn’t help but want to blame him. Yet, you knew it was wrong, the only person at fault was you. So here you sat in the waiting lobby of McLaren, surrounded by so many people who were associates with Lando it made you feel like a fool. You felt as if everyone was staring at you and not only that but judging hard as if they knew what had happened. 

That’s when you spotted him, Lando was walking through the lobby, he was in the same clothes as that night. Your heart dropped as you stood up, unsure of what you were going to say him but you pressed forward. Your footsteps echoed around the lobby as you caught up to Lando who wasn’t yet aware of your presence.

“Lando!” you called, he paused and hesitantly turned around to face you. All those walls you’d broken down throughout the years were now back up again as he stared at you coldly. And it was just like it was back in school, Lando staring down at you as you looked up at him helplessly.

“What are you doing here?” he asked bluntly as he looked pass you, unable to meet your gaze. You swore your heart broke a little when he wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Please don’t do this, Lando. I know I messed up. I should’ve told you the second they offered the seat to me. I didn’t want to lose you, I thought that if you knew you’d leave.” 

“Well looks like you’ve lost me either way. I don’t care about the seat, Y/N. I care about the fact that you chose to hide it from me, I thought we were in this together.” his eyes flitted from your eyes to away as he took a step backwards. You could feel him slipping from your heart, you reached forward. 

“We can! Please, I promise we can fix this, I can fix this. Just don’t leave me, please.” the words tumbled out of you only to come out as desperate and pathetic. It was wrong, you knew it too. 

“I can’t do this right now, Y/N. I have to go meet Fred Vasseur at Ferrari.”

“Ferrari?”

Lando let out a sigh, stepping past you as he replied.  

“Yeah. Ferrari’s offered me your seat.”

You felt like you’d been kicked in the stomach as you watched Lando walk out the McLaren doors. Tears slipped from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks as you stifled a sob in your hands. You watched him leave, taking your heart with him.

<—————————————————————————————————>

A couple of months later

“Race in 15 minutes.” a voice called in passing as you sat on the steps of your garage. Your eyes floated around to where Oscar stood next to one of the engineers, both peering down at a screen, jabbing at something on it every so often whilst nodding. 

Oscar was the other driver who joined the grid this year to race alongside you with Mclaren. He was a young polite funny Australian guy and from what you’d heard and seen- one of the best drivers of the newest generation. He’d already impressed you before on numerous occasions when you would go with Lando to go watch the F2 races when you got the chance. The two of you would go watch your old buddies race and join them in drinking afterwards. 

“All good.” you replied, anxiousness creeping its way into your voice as you attempted to banish any thought of Lando. You swallowed hard as you pulled your gloves on, hands trembling as they did before any race. 

It was the first race of the 2023 season, there was a new lineup of drivers, some old, some new. Many of the drivers had transferred teams, this included both you and Lando, Carlos, Daniel Riccardo making his comeback and a couple of others. 

You and Lando had both decided to call it quits after the whole thing that went down during the off-season. The other drivers were aware of what had happened and honestly it didn’t take a lot of thinking to put the two things together. You and Lando had swapped seats at Ferrari and McLaren, and alongside it your relationship had crumbled and fallen apart. Charles and Max, the two drivers you were closest with and looked up to like brothers had also provided comfort, saying they would’ve done the same. But you knew it wasn’t true, they just said it to make you feel better. 

You and Lando hadn’t spoken since the day he’d packed everything up and left the apartment. You’d been absent when he’d left. 

Neither of you had the bravery to reach out yet and neither of you could too busy with other things. Yet, two months later you still missed him, longing for his comfort and endless love he’d given you. It made you feel sick, it all felt so misplaced and wrong. 

Both Sandy and Lisa had provided you with solace and comfort with their weekly movie nights at your apartment with buckets of ice cream. But it wasn’t the same, you still felt like you were missing something. Or someone. And either way, it would’ve been Lando. 

Life just felt so wrong without him. There wasn’t anyone to ramble to each time you came back from work, no one to sit down with and watch corny movies with popcorn with. No one to sit on the balcony with and watch the stars late at night, no one to go on day trips to beach with and build sandcastles only for them to be swallowed by the ocean at the end of the day. 

All of those things you’d found within Lando ever since Day 1. He was the person who kept you grounded, the person who’d stay up rubbing circles on your palms late at night when you couldn’t fall asleep or who would keep you company as you cooked in the kitchen.

And all because of a few dumb thoughts you’d lost it all in a mere few days. If you could turn back time you would’ve gone back and fixed everything. Now the only thing you could do was sit and wallow in regret and self pity.

<—————————————————————————————————>

You felt a soft tapping on your helmet, you looked up through the visor of your helmet to see Charles standing next to you, a wide spread grin on his face. 

You broke into a smile as you stood up, pulling your helmet off. 

“Hey old man, what’s up?” you greeted your former teammate with a hug. His smile dropped, replaced with a grimace upon hearing the nickname from you. 

“Came to see you, you traitor. Can’t believe you’d choose this colour over this colour.” he remarked in disgust as he pointed to your suit and then his own.  You had to admit, the bright red did look a lot nicer than the papaya orange you were currently sporting.

“Part of the job, I can’t say no unfortunately. It’ll grow onto me eventually.” you shrugged spreading your arms out and looking down at the papaya coloured suit. 

Charles clicked his tongue dismissively before his expression turned soft, something you’d seen too much of lately. 

“You sure you okay though? Have you spoken to-“ he cleared his throat, leaning in before whispering, “Lando.” like it was some sort of forbidden word. You bit back a laugh. 

“It’s okay you can say his name.” You chuckled, Charles eyed you suspiciously.

“Are you sure? Because the last time I did you cried for 2 hours.” He answered. 

You swatted him defensively, “That was ages ago!”

“That was last week.”

“Whatever.” You huffed, crossing your arms. 

“Will you talk to him?” Charles asked. 

“Nah, it’s fine though, we can’t talk. Not for now at least.” you told him, but your voice was strained as your eyes flickered around the garage. Charles knew you hadn’t taken breaking up with Lando well. As your “older brother” alongside Max the two of them made it their sole mission to keep you from harms way, that being Lando. 

He looked at you with pity, you caught his eye before scoffing. Wallowing in self pity was something you’d done too many times this year. 

“Don’t look at me like that, Charles.” You said, letting out a huff. 

“Like what, Y/N?” he prompted cautiously. You couldn’t get pissed at Charles, he knew it too. After all, that’s what a big brother did, annoy the shit out of you. 

“That you feel bad for me. I’m fine, I swear.” 

But you didn’t believe the words that came out from your mouth either. He chuckled as he ruffled your hair affectionately before you swatted his hand away. 

“I know you are, petite soeur.”

Your nose scrunched up at the nickname Charles had dubbed you ever since your first season. It meant little sister in French or something like that, you were yet to Google it.

He let out one of his contagious laughs before patting you on the back gently, before leaning in and whispering;

“But seriously, if you want Max and I can push him off the track anytime.” 

“Okay, time to go, old man.” you said as you shoved him out the garage door. He rounded the corner with one last dumb grin and salut. 

“See you out there, petite soeur!”

<—————————————————————————————————>

1 more lap to go. 

You could feel your foot getting a cramp from switching between the accelerator and brake, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your neck and your breathing was heavy. 

Right next to you, battling for P2 was Lando. Such a coincidence. Thanks universe, you thought as you turned the steering wheel as you rounded turn 3. Max was long gone in the distance probably nearing the checkered flag already leaving the rest of the grid in dust. 

Zhou and Stroll were out already both crashing into the same barriers at turn 7, something you were used to at this point. (IM JOKING, I love them)

In the corner of your eyes you could see and feel Lando closing in on you, pushing you off the track. 

You gripped the steering wheel, turning it in the direction of the Ferrari but he was quick to use this as a chance to slip in front of you as you both rounded a corner. You hit the steering wheel angrily as you watched Lando in front of you. 

A long strand of curse words left your mouth as you crossed the finish line. The FIA was sure to have fun with that.

 Your heart was pounding in your ears loudly as you pulled the car aside to a stop. Your team cheered, you’d gotten on the podium. But it wasn’t a win to you, you’d fallen for Lando’s terribly obvious trap and allowed him to take advantage. You felt like such a fool, he seemed to have that effect on you. 

Thanks, universe, you’re a pain in the ass, you thought as your team surrounded you celebrating loudly. Any thought of Lando disappeared in an instant as you were pulled into hugs from your team and instead replaced with smiles and laughter.

You were pulled up onto the platform next to Max, and Lando whom you avoided interacting with the entire podium stand part. Everything after that was a quick blur until the after race press conference. 

“Here we’re joined by Max Verstappen, Lando Norris and Y/N 

L/N.” 

You forced a smile, honestly the only thing you wanted right now was to be at home eating ice cream with Sandy and Lisa. Or be sleeping, you’d be okay with either of those options. Yet, here you were sitting on a couch alongside your friend and ex-boyfriend in front of a bunch of reporters.

You glanced over at Max who’d thoughtfully placed himself in between both you and Lando. Something you were sure to thank him for afterwards. He sent you a gentle smile, one you returned without hesitation.

The first couple of questions were pretty simple ones, you avoided adding onto Lando’s answers and he to yours and there was no need to. 

That was until a young female reporter took the opportunity to ask about you and Lando’s relationship. Something that caught you unprepared and by surprise.

“So Y/N and Lando,” she began, you could feel your heartbeat spiking as you looked around, every PR training you’d sat through instantly disappearing from your mind. 

“There’s been rumours going around that the seat transition wasn’t something that was thoroughly discussed before the contract signing. Is there something you’d like to add on about this?” 

You swallowed hard as you avoided meeting Lando’s gaze, one you could see in the corner of your eye. 

“N-no comment.” you managed to say.

“Right. So how about you and Lando’s relationship status, there’s been some sources claiming-“

“Okay. I think that’s enough. We’re here to answer questions about the race, nothing else.” Max cut off as he stepped in with a stern voice, one that was sure to make anyone go silent. You prayed to god that no one heard the giant sigh of relief that you let out after Max interjected. You could feel yourself shrinking under the stares of all the reporters and photographers as you sat in front of them. 

The rest of the conference went by in plain awkwardness, answers were now only answered by Max, yet another thing you had to thank him for. 

You finally exhaled as you stepped out of the conference room, Max behind you, Lando had gone out the other door. You leant against the empty corridor wall, head pressed against the cool plaster. 

“That was a nightmare.” you groaned loudly, the exhaustion obvious in your voice. Max let out a sigh as he crossed his arms disapprovingly. 

“That was unacceptable on their side to allow the reporter to keep asking such questions.” Max mused, anger tainted his voice. You let out a laugh as you turned to him. 

“Thanks, Maximilian.” you broke into a grin knowing how much he hated being called that. He huffed disapprovingly, “Maybe next time I wont save your sorry ass.”

“Okay, okay. Calm your farm, pal.” you replied as you both began walking down the corridor headed toward the entrance where there was sure to be a giant crowd waiting. 

“I’ll go get that reporter fired.” Max announced loudly despite it only being the two of you in the corridor. You looked up at him, holding back a laugh despite the look on his face being the opposite.

“Admirable goals, but it’s fine really. I’m sure Twitter will have a fun time tearing her apart.” you waved it off with a gentle smile knowing just how brutal the audience on Twitter could be.

Max chuckled, “Everything else okay though?” You knew instantly what he was talking about, you appreciated the concern, you really did but you could handle yourself. 

Your smile fell, replaced with narrow eyes and a clenched jaw as you eyed him.

“Did Charles put you up to this?” you asked him skeptically, he shook his head. 

“I’m allowed to worry about you too, you know.” he added with a comforting pat on the shoulder. 

“Thanks Maximilian, for everything.” 

“Okay, you can shut up now.”

<—————————————————————————————————>

“Y/N?” 

“One second!” you called, trying to avoid the oil that was spattering into a puddle beside your face. You were currently in your father’s mechanic shop underneath a car working away at it. You were still blowing off steam after the press conference that had happened on the weekend and your father was more than happy to lend you the garage for just that. You knew some part of you wanted Lando to approach you after the race, even if it wasn’t to talk but just to say something, you know? 

But even if he had you were sure how you’d react. 

“Can you pass me the wrench?” you called to the unknown person. You heard a loud clatter of metal before a wrench was stuck in your face. 

“Thanks.” you grumbled as you took it from them, pausing as a shock of realisation hit you. 

Wait, that watch on their wrist.

Your dumbass tried sitting up on the board while still under the car. 

BAM. 

“Ouch, fucking hell.” you swore loudly as you pulled yourself out from underneath the car. Rubbing your forehead in pain as you stood up, before your eyes settled on the person in front of you. 

Your mind blanked as Lando stared back at you. You could see him biting back a laugh at your misfortune. He was in a white shirt, one button too many undone for you to know where this was going. His hands were shoved in his pockets as he stood watching you as you walked his way. 

“Fine. Laugh, you asshole.” you grumbled as you brushed past him. Gripping the wrench in your fist as you held back the strong urge to whack his head in with it. Lando laughed and you’d be lying if the sound of it didn’t still make your insides turn and do flips. 

“Calm down Twinkle Toes, I’m not here to laugh at you. I’m here to . . . apologise.” his tone turning serious, you let out an steady exhale. 

You missed being called that, it was a dumb nickname he’d given you as children, back when you were each other’s biggest rivals on the track. 

Twinkle Toes and Loverboy, a duo to rival Chandler and Joey. Or at least that’s what your dumb asses came up with at the time. 

You let the wrench fall from your grip and onto the bench with a loud metallic clatter, breaking the silence before you spoke. 

“Yeah.” you breathed, staring at the wall in attempt to not let your guard slide down so easily. 

“Want to go for a ride?”

You turned around with a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed and all. Lando stared back at you, heat flushing up your cheeks as a smile tugged at his lips. 

“What?”

“C’mon, Twinkle Toes, let’s get out of here.” he said with a gentle nod of his head in the direction of his car parked outside. 

And that’s all it took for you to drop everything and follow him out the garage. 

<————————————————————————————-—————>

You let out a soft gasp when Lando pulled up at the track where you both used to race on during your karting days. The sun was already beginning to slip back the mountains and buildings and out of view, you bit your lip nervously as you opened the car door. 

Was this right? 

Were you making a big mistake? 

Despite your lingering doubts you followed him onto the empty track. The first few minutes of walking were full of silence, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable despite everything that had happened. It was peaceful of all things.

“I-“

“I-“

You both immediately retracted your words as you both began at the same time. You looked away, “God this worse than that movie we watched that one time.” you murmured with a soft laugh. Lando found himself chuckling knowing exactly which movie you were talking about. 

“Let me go first, then.” he offered, you nodded silently. A long string of silence filled the air, only the sound of your footsteps on the track could be heard. 

“I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. Honestly? I would’ve done the same thing. I shouldn’t have given so easily on us, I should’ve given us a second chance. Because bloody hell these last two months without you have been absolute shit. I don’t even know who I am without you, and maybe in someway that’s a bad thing but I don’t care as long as I have you.” he stopped in his tracks and faced you, his dark green eyes reflecting the light in the sunset as it cast its gaze over his face. 

Your hand cupped his cheek softly, your heart fluttering when he pressed his face into your hand, loving how it fit perfectly. 

Just like that it was like you were both high schoolers again. Slipping out of class to steal kisses in the hallways before they were crowded with students. Sneaking out at night through your window to go walk around the streets late together. 

You swallowed hard and spoke.

“After everything happened, my life completely just stopped still. And it felt like I had lost half of who I was because the truth is, Lando, that you’re a part of me. Ever since we were kids it’s like without you i’m lost. I should’ve told you the moment they offered me the seat, I was just ashamed and scared. Because I wanted a future with you, because I still do. I want to marry you, have a family and grow old right next to you.”

You stared longingly into his eyes as he pulled you closer. You fell into his arms as they wrapped around you like your own protective shield. Because the truth was that Lando was your home. You let out a shaky breath, as you pulled back and leant in for a kiss only for your lips to be captured in a gentle motion. 

It was something out of a cheesy teen movie, one that the two of you would just hate - two figures kissing as the sun set in the back of a race track. 

“You’re crazy.” you whispered against his lips. 

“Crazy for you.” he whispered back, sending you both into fits of laughter. This was it, this was right, this was home. 

“C’mon, let’s go home Twinkle Toes.”

“After you, Loverboy.”

A/n: STOP ITS SO CRINGEY I WANNA DIEE

Jk.

Tysm for reading! I apologise again for the bad writing, this is just an old piece that I really wanted to get out there, I hope u cringed just as much as I did reading this! Stay safe and have an amazing day - xoxo takimakiiii (yes I changed my name it was long overdue lol)

[scarletttries]

Write A Kiss Request: Monkey D Luffy (One Piece) x Reader ...a kiss as a promise

(prompt list here) & 2025 Request List - requests open

...a kiss as a promise for Luffy

You had never seen colours quite like it. Deep oranges burning into dark reds, rippled with blues so rich they seemed tinged with purple. It seemed the closer your ship drew to the Grand Line, the more ethereal the whole ocean became. Perched in the crow's nest on the Going Merry as the sunset painted the horizon in deep speckled tones, you wondered how you ever felt at home anywhere else.

It had been a couple of months since you left your island home in search of adventure and intrigue, all sparked by the moment you met a man more extraordinary than the night sky itself: Monkey D Luffy.

It had felt more natural than breathing when you met the famous straw hat captain, the two of you instantly falling in step in a way the rest of the crew chuckled about behind closed doors. Luffy always had such a strange way with people, often chaotic and always unpredictable. But you brought a quiet calm to the pirate that no-one had seen before, giving him a stable harbour in his life's stormy sea, slowing him down enough for him to finally settle and rest. On beautiful nights like tonight Luffy was more drawn to you than ever, the ship's proximity to the fated Grand Line only filling him with need to hold you near.

"Nami thinks we'll be in the waters of the Grand Line in just two more days." You expected Luffy to sound more excited about the announcement than he did, his eyes fixed straight ahead at the sunset as he spoke. His stony gaze betrayed the smile on his face, an air of uncertainty hanging in the space between you, his confidence seeming to falter for the first time.

"And then you're one step closer to being king of the pirates. You'll be achieving your dream soon." You reminded him, his smile softening into something more sincere as you closed the distance between the two of you and let your hand rest on his shoulder. He brought one arm up around your waist, his hand settling on your lower back as he held you and spoke again,

"Do you think someone can have two dreams?" He looked squarely at you as he said the words, the intensity in his eyes sending a shiver down your spine in anticipation.

"I think so. What's on your mind Luffy?" Your free hand swept a lock of hair out of his face, giving you a little more of him to examine as you searched for the meaning behind his cryptic words.

"You'll stay with me, right? When I've achieved my dream and I'm king of the pirates, and you've lived out your dream too. You're not going to go somewhere else after all this, are you? Or can it be somewhere we can go together? What happens after the Grand Line?" His words dripped slowly from his lips like honey, each one a falling grain of sand in the hourglass of time he feared would drive you apart.

It wasn't unusual for Luffy to cling to you like this when you were alone together, his arms encircling you whenever he could. But this the first time he'd voiced his need to cling to you beyond that. A first look to a future that he knew he needed to have you in. From a man who skated through so much by just knowing things would work out somehow, this moment of desperate uncertainty struck your heart with all the meaning it carried. Luffy had a second dream. One he believed in just as strongly as his undeniable destiny as king of the pirates. Luffy's new dream was you.

"I'll still be by your side when all of our adventures are done, Luffy." Your thumb stroked soft stripes over his scarred cheek, his brow dipping in thought as he pondered your reply. Wide brown eyes rose to search yours, deep murky pools of hope and need.

"Do you promise?" It was impossible to say no to a question posed so sweetly, his inner child shining through in these rare moments of vulnerability he saved for only you. You decided to do something you hadn't before, something you hoped would portray the enormity of your affections for him better than words ever could. You leaned forward, hopeful the rest of the crew weren't keeping a watchful eye over their fearless leader, and kissed Monkey D Luffy. It was just a gentle peck, his lips as warm and soft as his heart, the sea around you seeming to settle into a moment of serene silence the moment you touched him. Luffy made no effort to move, his arms lightly locked around your waist as he leant just the slightest bit of weight forwards, just enough to feel his lips press against yours. Your eyes fluttered shut as you stood frozen in time, letting the endless well of love and admiration you have for your captain spill out from your heart.

When you blinked your eyes open the sky had grown darker, and you couldn't tell if a second or an hour had passed as the two of you embraced. You pulled away and rested your forehead against his, breathlessly whispering the words he needed to hear,

"I promise."