#and even if they were all over the place when it comes to quadrants

[froggy-nebula]

i might just be pulling this out of my ass but i feel like terezi and gamzee really did a lot of damage to how people see pitch relationships

and i get it, terezi and gamzee’s relationship was basically everything people say about pitch relationships. it was abusive, horrible, and enabled by everyone around them

but they’re also not the only pitch relationship we see in the comic, or even the only pitch relationship we see terezi get into

and they’re not even the only abusive and/or toxic relationship we see by far, and plenty of those weren’t pitch

[allywthsr]

PREGNANCY JOURNEY | (l.norris)

summary: Lando and your pregnancy journey

wordcount: 3.9k words

pairing: landonorris x fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy and it’s symptoms

notes: this is going to be a series! Look forward to the rest 🤓

It all happened without planning, Lando always said he wanted to become a dad when he retired and had more time for his child and you.

But the best things happen when you’re not expecting them, at least that’s what his mother always says.

It all started with you feeling unwell for your usual walk at the docks, headaches, nausea, stomach pains and sore boobs were part of your daily life. At first you put them off as classic period symptoms, since that was nearing, but you never would’ve classed them as pregnancy symptoms.

Lando was being as caring as he could’ve been, bringing you hot water bottles, painkillers and cuddling you all the time. And when you flew to Australia, for the GP, you waited for your period to come, but it didn’t. You flew with Max Verstappen, Kelly and P in Max’s private plane, thankfully. While cramping in the seat next to Lando, he rubbed your back, placed his hand on your lower stomach and kissing your hair repeatedly. He wished to take that pain away from you, but he couldn’t do anything else than watch and be there for you, whispering sweet nothing in your ear, hoping to distract you from the nausea and stomach pains.

And when you missed the practices on Friday, because you couldn’t keep your food inside of you, emptying your guts out in the toilet, that’s when Lando actually became worried. You weren’t even up for sex, and that was never a problem, Lando just had to blink and you were ready to jump his bones, and you did, usually.

Your period was two days late already, and that got you worried too, when calling your best friend and telling her about your symptoms, she waisted no time in telling you, that you should take a pregnancy test.

You laughed at her and told her to stop messing with you, you couldn’t be pregnant, Lando and you used protection all the time, when she insisted on you doing a test, you got worried she might actually be true, but you didn’t wanted to do it alone, you couldn’t.

So when you were hanging over the toilet when Lando returned, he decided that you needed to see a doctor, with his phone already out, checking for the next doctors office, you called out for him to come into the bathroom.

“Y/N, you need to see a doctor, this is not normal.“

“Yes, Lando, it’s normal.“

“No, Y/N.“

“I think I’m pregnant, Lando.“

“You… you’re… what?“

“I think pregnant“, when he didn’t react and only looked at you in shook, your eyes started to fill up with tears, “And you’re not happy about that?“

He slowly came back, “No, baby, just shocked, I… did you take a test?“

“No, I wanted to wait for you, and take it with you, can you run to the shops and get me like three? Just to make sure.“

He nodded, “I love you, I’ll get them, you stay here and don’t worry too much, we got this, okay?“, and quickly he changed out of his McLaren gear, in a neutral hoodie, a cap that hid his curls and sunglasses that covered his green eyes. With several kisses on your lips, on your face and a small caress on your lower tummy, he said goodbye and ran out.

You exhaled loudly and paced around the suite, checking Lando’s location every two minutes. Butterflies were flying in your stomach, you were nervous, its not like anything would change between you and Lando, but still your life’s would change rapidly, you wouldn’t be able to follow Lando to every race, sure you could still work for Quadrant, and do your normal email work, but you wouldn’t be able to come to every shoot.

But life could also be more beautiful, playing with your little love until Lando comes home and he or she will squeal until they’re in Lando’s arms. Taking them to a race and sitting them in Lando’s car, or Lando would stream and his son or daughter would steal the spotlight.

But before you could think about any of that, the test had to be positive. Maybe it was just pre period symptoms with a stomach bug, and all of this was something you and Lando would laugh about, when laying in bed later, but you needed to know now. And Lando was still running around in the store a few blocks away from the hotel.

Finally the door unlocked and a panting Lando came through the door.

“Did you run up here?“

“Of course, it’s not every day that your missus tells you she could be pregnant.“

You chuckled and grabbed the bag from Lando’s hands, you looked inside it and found five pregnancy tests, as well as some chocolate, other treats and multiple things to help you with nausea, headaches and stomach pains.

“Did you buy the whole store?“

“I wanted you to feel better, pregnant or not.“

“Shit Lando, what are we gonna do if I’m pregnant?“, you started to panic again, this time Lando was there with you and hugged you before it would get worse.

“We’re going to buy a changing table, and clothes, and diapers, and the cutest little stuffies, and you’re going to be the best mother ever. If you’re actually pregnant, then we’ll deal with that, I love you so much, that won’t change anything. Let’s just take a test, and then we can worry, okay?“

You nodded and he pulled you to the bathroom, “Are you going to stay here while I pee?“

“Yes? If we’re doing this, we’re doing this together.“

“But can you at least shut up? I need to concentrate“, he nodded and sat on the bathtub, waiting for you to do something.

You pulled out a pregnancy test and quickly read through the instructions on the box, you held the stick under yourself and did what you had to do. With Lando watching you, it was more funny than serious and you two couldn’t hold back the laughter, the whole situation was bizarre, you never thought you would be doing this without planning it.

You placed the stick on the sink and set a timer for five minutes, now you wandered around the bathroom, nor Lando and you said a thing, all that was heard was heavy breathing.The minutes felt like hours, and when your alarm finally rang, you both jolted at the sound, scaring you. Now it was clear if you would be drinking champagne or juice to celebrate, both results would be fine, you and Lando would get through everything, if you had each other.

You grabbed the test and looked at Lando, he held your hand and squeezed it tight, ”We got this.“

With one last breath, you turned over the stick and read the letters, with a gasp you turned around to Lando snd showed him the test.

PREGNANT

You two didn’t know how to react, the feelings were switching between happiness and shock, sadness and confusion. But before anything else could happen, Lando wrapped his arms around your shoulders and squeezed you tight. Tears slipped from Lando’s and your eyes, it was the shock. Lando and you had been together for a little over five years, it wasn’t unusual for couples to become pregnant, but Lando and you had such a busy life, that you didn’t know if a baby would fit in there.

With tears in his eyes, Lando held your face in his hands, and wiped away the wet stains on your cheeks, smiling at you.

“I love you, okay. We’re going to be the hottest parents there are, you’ll be a milf. Nothing will change, I’ll love you just as much as I love you right now. Forever.“

“Everything will change, Lan. We’ll have a baby with us, a breathing human that will rely on us, we can’t just go on random trips anymore, we can’t spend all day in bed anymore, we certainly can’t have sex all over the apartment anymore.“

“But Y/N, this is a beautiful thing, we can still go on trips, we’ll just have to pack an extra bag and hold small hands when the plane takes off, the baby can lay in bed with us all day, and I’ll still fuck you in the kitchen when the afternoon nap is happening.“

You chuckled and pressed your lips on his’, one of his hands found its way back to your lower stomach and rubbed small circles on where the baby was growing.

“I need chocolate.“

“Luckily I bought some at the store, pregnant or not, you always crave chocolate“, with a chuckle he kissed your forehead, “Lets lay down on the bed, okay? It was a hectic day.“

You nodded and he led you to the bed, with his head resting on your stomach, you combed your fingers through his curls, enjoying the silence between you two. In just nine months, all that would be over and a small creature would be filling the silence, that thought got you a little excited, you couldn’t wait for the future.

“When do you think it was conceived?“

“Well, what does the pregnancy test say?“

“It said two weeks.“

“Before we left for Saudi Arabia then.“

“But how? I always forced you to wear a condom.“

“Remember that morning where we were tired and horny? I think we forgot, I did try to pull out but I think that didn’t work.“

You sighed and kept combing through his hair.

The next day was weird, you felt better and only had to throw up once in the morning, so you were walking next to Lando through the paddock. No one knew your secret, and yet, Lando was gliding over the concrete, he wanted to tell everyone, clearly happy about the news, you both were. You both were glowing and happier than ever, people were laughing and saying that the night must’ve been a good one, but they didn’t know that all you did last night was, talking about the future and how to tell your family and friends.

Knowing you were expanding your little family, while no one knew about it, made the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults, you had to slap Lando’s hands away from your stomach, every now and then, too scared someone would catch you. You wanted it to be a secret for now, telling your family and friends, as soon as you figured out how. It should be special and memorable, you couldn’t just get them all together and tell them ‘We’re pregnant, by the way.’

When you traveled back home after Australia, you immediately booked an appointment at your gynecologist, making sure Lando could come with you, as he requested. Lando was nervous when you two climbed the stairs to the doctors office, holding your hand tightly. Due to Lando’s and your ‘celebrity’ status, you could immediately go into the room where you would meet the doctor. And she came in quickly after you settled on the mattress, Lando right next to you. She did an ultrasound, and found the baby, seeing that all was well, and healthy so far. She advised you to take it slow and not do everything at once, you could still do your normal routine, but not stress too much about things, and Lando took that seriously. When you were back at the flat, he bent down and opened your shoe laces, removing your feet from the shoes, bringing you water all the time, making sure you always had some snacks and you were comfortable. It was cute at first, always having someone around you and someone to make sure you were alright, but it got annoying after three days, you were surprised you’re allowed to go the toilet alone.

The next races until you were finally home for a bit longer, were hectic, you wanted to rest, but due to constant traveling, you couldn’t, and not joining Lando would only be more stressful for you, what if he crashes and you weren’t there? When the Monaco GP came, you could fully breathe, you knew the city, you could sleep in your own apartment, cook whatever whenever you wanted, but that also meant that Lando could live out his protective side. He wanted you to stay home and watch the practices from the window, and arguing was useless, he had his opinion and there was no changing that. It was also when you first started showing, on the media day for the Monaco GP, you were laying in bed with Lando and you two just woke up, his hand went from touching your face, to your boobs to your stomach, when he gasped and sat up, while pulling your sleeping T-shirt up, so it rested underneath your boobs. With a worried “What?“, you screamed at him, thinking he might saw something bad.

“You have a bumb!“

“Really?“

You looked at your belly and indeed saw your tummy being a bit bigger than the night before, while you knew that it wasn’t the baby that was making your stomach looking bigger, but more like your uterus, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment for him. The rest of the morning was spent in bed, with Lando kissing your belly and cuddling until he really had to go. You put on a more summer like dress and hoped no one would saw the slight bulge in your stomach.

But on Saturday, when the whole Norris and Y/L/N family was gathered in the city, it was time to reveal your pregnancy, on Sunday you wanted to tell the close team.

It was magical, everyone acted just like you hoped, a lot of tears were shed and hugs were exchanged, especially the team at McLaren couldn’t be happier, they tried to be the tough boys, but you saw some wet eyes when they all hugged you.

From now on it was easier, you could tell your family updates about the baby every day, in the garage everyone kept an eye out for you and handled you with extra care, offering you a seat or water every second of the day.

With each day, your tummy started growing more, and after a few weeks it was more than obvious that the belly wasn’t from eating too much. Your whole body was growing, especially the boobs, which made Lando really happy, he couldn’t stop looking at them every day, but it also made things very obvious for the fans something happened. You didn’t post on social media anymore, and you barely came with Lando to races, and if you did you wore huge sweatshirts to cover your belly and boobs up. When you crossed the twenty week mark, there was no denying that a baby was growing inside of you. After finding out the gender, you made a post on instagram. You felt good and didn’t want to be stuck in your apartment anymore, you needed to join your boyfriend at his races again.

The freedom you felt once you could go outside in normal clothes, was amazing, and the people were swooning over you. You were glowing, and with that bump of yours, Lando couldn’t keep his hands of off you, always touching you in some kind of way, either on your belly, or at least a hand always on your back, to protect you from straying to far away from him, his words.

There wasn’t a day where you two wouldn’t be cuddling, either he was laying with his head on your belly, or talking to the baby, or kissing your belly, or caressing it. He loved his child already so much, he was overwhelmed sometimes from the love he felt. He always thought he couldn’t love someone more than you, or his family, but the way he felt the need to protect his unborn child already, sometimes he just wanted to burst.

But for now all he got to protect, was you. He did whatever he could so you were save, when in crowds, he would hold your hands and shield you from the people as best as you could. He fell in love with you more every day, seeing you growing your child and doing whatever it takes to make you and your baby happy, if that meant he needed to run to the shops at three AM for certain chocolate, he did that. No matter how disgusting your eating behavior was, he would always get you what you wished for, he even almost missed a practice because he ran out quickly before the start to get you crisp you desperately needed.

The first kick was special, Lando always made fun of instagram videos, where the parents freak out over some belly movements, but when you were in the kitchen, cooking yourself pasta, Lando came and hugged you from behind, caressing your growing stomach and kissing your neck, it was his new favorite thing to do. While talking to you about some changes they made on the car, you two gasped at the same time, looking down to where Lando’s hands lay, you felt something kick from inside of you.

“The baby kicked, Y/N!“

You nodded your head and turned around in his embrace, kissing your boyfriend on his lips.

“It’s actually alive in there, baby. Can you believe it? In eighteen weeks we have a breathing human being.“

You wiped his cheeks with your thumbs, tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, smiling up at him you repeatedly pressed your lips on his’.

This memory sure would be one you two wouldn’t forget.

Lando was the happiest when he was with you, he always thought the happiest he can be was in his car, driving around in full speed and being on the podium after, seeing you in the crowd cheering for him, but now, there wasn’t something he wanted more all day than lay on your lap, talking and feeling the baby, while you’re brushing through his curls with your fingers.

He loved to take pictures of you when you’re in underwear, to document the growth of your belly, but also because he wanted to take pictures of you in underwear, he never thought you could look even sexier, but to him, you did. So he looked forward to seeing you change your clothes every morning and evening, shamelessly looking at your nakedness every time.

But it was fine, your sex drive was through the roof sometimes, when Lando saw you naked, he got horny, and you were too. It wasn’t unusual that Lando and you would disappear during a race weekend for a few minutes, you needed him, whether he would go down on you or give you the real thing.

But pregnancy wasn’t perfect, there were a lot of downsides to it. Everything hurt, your back, your feet, your head, your boobs and even your legs. Lando tried and eased your pain whenever he could by massaging every body part, but he couldn’t fully remove it. Foot massages were on the daily agenda, and when he was lucky, he massaged your boobs, which always lead to you leaking milk and Lando would get horny after seeing your big boobs on display.

But when you saw this viral trend on TikTok, where the boyfriends would lift their girlfriends stomachs, you had to try it out, and when Lando stood behind you, hands under your big belly and lifted it, you let out the biggest moans Lando ever heard. Not having to carry the weight of the baby, relieved the tension of your back and you could breathe again. Lando was shocked how heavy the baby actually was, sure he heard it every time at the gynecologist, but feeling it was a different thing. Everyday Lando did that lifting thing for at least twice a day, and it were the best minutes during the day.

After week thirty you weren’t able to put your own socks on and putting on your shoes was also impossible, just as shaving in the shower, luckily you had a supportive boyfriend who did all these things for you, when he was around. He shaved your legs and private parts for you, and he found it exhausting, every time he would say that he didn’t know how women could do this every now and then.

Certain smells made you almost puke, yesterday your head was already over the toilet when you smelled bell pepper, it drove you crazy.

Traveling also got harder, you got cleared by your doctor before every race, but still, it was exhausting. The long plane rides, the long car rides and the sitting in the garage were tiring, you tried to support Lando from the garage, but for some practice sessions you stayed at the hotel, watching it on your laptop and laying in bed. You even thought about staying home, but you knew that would only stress you more, at home you couldn’t always be there for Lando when he needed you, and you needed him.

The fans were the sweetest too, giving you two gifts for the baby, drawings, clothings, accessories, and many more things. Your favorite piece so far was the handmade baby McLaren suit, so the baby and Lando could match, you couldn’t wait to see these two together.

The room was done by mostly Lando, but you bought most of the furniture and accessories, Lando put them all together. The walls were painted in a light blue and the room was cloud themed, there were clouds painted on the wall, clouds hung from the ceiling and cloud pillows were placed everywhere. You two couldn’t wait for your little love to arrive.

The last GP was hard for you, you were thirty-seven weeks pregnant and couldn’t really move, your stomach was huge and standing for more than five minutes was not possible. Lando didn’t want you to come, and you almost didn’t, but you thought about going in labor earlier than expected and not having Lando by your side, and that freaked you more out than the thought of delivering your baby in a different country with Lando. So you waddled around the paddock, with Lando’s hand in yours you made your way to the hospitality, feeling better when you could finally sit down again.

You sat in the garage and watched the race, and when it ended, you were more than happy that Lando was fine and healthy, going for dinner with his family after the season officially ended. And almost immediately after you were back at the hotel, you packed your things and flew back to your Monaco home, and when you arrived, you could enjoy the last few weeks of pregnancy. The nesting was driving Lando crazy, everything had to be perfect, you were washing the last few clothes for your baby, filling the drawers with diapers and whatever the internet, books and especially yours and Lando’s mum told you, you needed. In general your families were the biggest help, they told you were to start with shopping for the baby, what you actually needed and what you didn’t.

Christmas time came around, your apartment was decked with decorations and the smell of cookies was everywhere and on the eleventh of December, you woke up because of sharp pains in your lower stomach. At first you thought these were normal stomach pains or Braxton hicks, preparing you for the birth, you had them quite frequently now, but when you started counting them and they came on more often than normal you shook Lando awake. And before you knew it, Lando drove you two to the hospital, where the next chapter of your life began.

[lqvesoph]

Hot Wings - LN4

landonorris x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend does the hot wing challenge for quadrant and you make a little cameo for the first time ever

warnings: none, just fluff

masterlist | taglist

"Baby, you've got no right to laugh, you're not going this", your boyfriend Lando called, he would've laughed if his mouth wasn't burning at the moment.

He was currently filming a YouTube video for Quadrant and Max and him were eating hot wings while Niran asked them questions.

At the moment they were at the 7th wing, at level 300,000.

Max and Niran looked over at you behind the camera when Lando called your name.

Your boyfriend waved you over, signaling you to come to him. You hesitantly stood up, as you haven’t really confirmed your relationship yet, and walked to him and his best friend.

"My lips are burning", he mumbled, leaning back against your stomach, his head tilted back so he could hold eye contact.

You let your finger trail over his cheek, placing them onto his full red lips.

Lando leaned further into you. "Ohh, your fingers are cold, baby. I've never loved your fingers more than in this moment", the driver muttered, wrapping his arms around your middle, to keep you in place.

Max and Niran broke out in hysterical laughters as soon as Lando stopped speaking and even you couldn’t help a grin forming on your face.

"If you say so", you muttered, pushing your fingers into his curls, wrapping them around your fingers.

"Stay", he demanded.

"You're full of milk", you complained, stroking over the wet patches on Lando's black shirt.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, baby", he cooed, not really paying attention, which made you chuckle.

"You wanna take a bite as well?", Max suggested, holding up a hot wing with some sauce on it.

His best friend addressing you, made Lando lift his cheek from your stomach and look up at you.

In the meantime, you nodded, taking the chicken wing from Max's hands and taking a bite.

You didn't want to admit it but Lando's reaction wasn't unreasonable. The sauce was fucking spicy. But you tried to not let it show too much.

"It's spicy, that's for sure", you managed to say, taking a sip of the cold milk next to Lando.

"Well, at least you didn't spit everywhere like Lando", Max chuckled, slapping his best friend's back.

"She never-", Lando started with a grin, looking up at you, but before he could say anything else, you put your hand over his mouth, stopping him from telling a stupid sexual joke.

"You didn't eat the earlier ones", Lando complained, his voice muffled due to your fingers on his lips.

You listened to Lando answering Niran's question, with your boyfriend's arm still wrapped around your legs.

"Your lips alright again, mate?", Max asked teasingly.

"Mmh-mmh", Lando asked, looking up with his head thrown back. You could read his face telling you he wanted a kiss. You shook your head but still leaned down to peck his cheek, not feeling quite comfortable to properly kiss him with a camera recording you and in a video that will be posted on social media soon, before walking back to your chair behind the camera.

"You okay over there?" Max asked, after a few more hot wings when he noticed you pacing up and down behind the camera.

"My lips are burning", you replied. The boys laughed. "No, really it's actually painful", you called back, chuckling.

"You want ice cream", Lando offered, holding up the vanilla ice cream box. You agreed and walked over, the spoon already ready in Lando's hands.

You opened your mouth, letting Lando feed you. "You know Lando's salvia is all over that, he drooled on it", Max pointed out, looking at the spoon in Lando's hand.

"My salvia has been different places already", Lando quickly replied, not even taking his gaze of you.

"LANDO!", you yelled, realizing what he just said and threw the empty milk can that stood on the table at him.

Lando dodged the can successfully. "What? It's true", Lando laughed, smearing ice cream on your cheek.

Then he pulled a third chair closer for you to sit on.

"If there's anything you would change in Formula 1, what would you do?", Niran went on with the questions. "I'd make them do this. On the grid. During the national lanthem- lanthem", Lando replied, struggling to pronounce the words coming out of his mouth.

Max and you started laughing. "It's alright, baby", you laughed, making Lando look up at you. "You have the exact same look on your face as if you just came from a night club, completely shitfaced", you told him with a chuckle.

"I- I do talk li- la", Lando slurred, only confirming his words by the way he said them. You laughed and buried your fingers in his curls when he laid his head on the table.

"I need something to eat, something that's not spicy", he whined and sat back in his chair. "You want noodles?", you asked, grinning at the state your boyfriend was in.

Lando looked up and nodded, looking like a little kid. You smiled and ruffled his curls before standing up and walking to the kitchen upstairs.

Only a few minutes later Lando and Max came up from the filming room. Your boyfriend came up behind you and wrapped his arm around your body, his head resting on your shoulder.

"I’m almost done", you told Lando, who nodded and sat down next to Max on at the kitchen counter.

You took two plates from the cupboard and placed them in front of the two boys before putting the noodles along with the sauce on the table.

Lando pulled you closer like he had earlier while filming as well and put his head against your stomach.

Ria entered the kitchen and chuckled at the scene in front of her. Both boys looking like they just went through the most traumatic experience of their lives, with milk dripping down their shirts. "What happened to you two?", she laughed.

"Now you wait till you do that video", Lando called, grabbing his burning throat after, making you and Ria chuckle.

Comments:

fan: Y/N CAMEO??? IN A QUADRANT VIDEO

fan: She gets along with Max so well, I love it

fan: Ria is probably so happy she doesn't need to deal with the guys on her own anymore

fan: I don't think we need an official statement about their relationship anymore

> fan: Yeah, I think that's confirmation enough...

> fan: "My salvia has been different places already"

> fan: Charlotte would sue him for that

> fan: PAHAHAH SHE DEFINITELY WOULD

fan: Her voice is so calming, I could listen to her talk all day

> fan: Her accent is so adorable

fan: Y/n immediately burying her hands in Lando's curls is the cutest thing I've seen all day

> fan: Can we blame her? His curls do look amazingly touchable

fan: Now after this, I wanna see drunk Lando

fan: I wanna see more of boyfriend Lando, he’s the cutest

taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @bingewatche

[cheriladycl01]

Kinktober 24/10/2024 Lando Norris - Humping/ ThighJob

Plot: You and Lando are great multitaskers

Warnings: Kinktober, SMUT, thighjob, humping, etc 18+ Minors DNI

You and Lando were very busy people. Him going round the world for the majority of the year driving fast cars and you acting in your tv shows and movies as an up and coming actress.

That’s actually how you met Lando. A very long winded funny way but hey always say people are out in the same place at the same time for a reason and that is something you both loved by.

You’d taken on a role in the Gran Turismo Movie, as the girlfriend to Jann and it was an incredible experience working with all these amazing actors and being involved in cars.

Here you met Geri, who was a co-star of yours and that ended up meaning you met Christian Horner at the movie premiere. You’d gotten talking to him about all that you’d learnt about cars and how it fascinated you which led him to inviting you with RedBull to the paddock which is where you’d met and the rest was history.

Your relationship where you were both travelling so much was a little strained. You tried to go to as many races as possible which normally was at least half of the calendar.

So when you guys were together you were both incredibly clingy. Always around one another always trying to get some kind of physical contact.

That was where you guys struggled in intimacy too, a lot of your time was spent on dates and making sure to spend as much time together as possible that you were often very exhausted or still too busy to do anything or a sexual nature.

So a lot of the time you’d do things that worked around both your tight schedules.

Like right now, he was working on his sim racing and you were incredibly horny and needy for him. So you plopped yourself over him, straddling his thigh covered in his Quadrant tracksuit bottoms. You were bare, you’d made sure to come in like that. He was just doing laps for the upcoming race in Monza, so he didn’t have any issues you joining him.

You stayed there, kissing along his neck bringing moans out of him. His arms circled around you to grab the wheel restarting the sim. You start to move your hips up and down, and you can already feel a wet spot growing in his tracksuit bottoms. Your hips moved in tandem up and down little breathy gasps and moans coming from you mouth as you feel the pressure scrape along your sensitive clit.

“Fuck Lan” you moan into him and your hips speed up a bit. His leg also moves every now and then when he breaks going round a corner and jiggles when the other accelerates.

“Your such a good girl. Little multitasker” he smiles, as he finishes another really good lap time. He knew the circuit well enough that he could probably do it blindfolded so even having his insanely hot girlfriend above him couldn’t make him forget the racing line.

“I’m gonna, fuck” you moan as you speed up. His hands come down you your hips helping you move back and forth, the scrape against him delicious and insatiable.

“That’s it, cum for me gorgeous. Getting yourself of on my thigh like that. Such a good girl” he complements.

But it wasn’t just you who found pleasure in humping, especially against his thigh. There was many times where he’d be eating you out, as it was one of his favourite things to do to you, and he’d get so into it he’d start thrusting his hips into the bed, getting the needed pressure on his cock.

Usually it was you coming all over his face that had him creaming his pants, and looking at the dark spot against his boxers or joggers however far he’d gotten stripping his own clothes off.

The most recent time was when you were laying on the sofa, your script for you upcoming film where you’d gotten the lead role in front of you.

You were playing Poppy in You and Me on Vacation with Tom Blyth as Alex and you were so excited as there were so many different filming locations you could go to and strangely the schedule fit in really well with Lando’s races. You’d be filming a lot of the Florida scenes just after Miami so you could watch that race and would have plenty of time to go to the next one.

He is in the mood and you were actually pretty sore from the night before where he’d absolutely been a feral wild dog.

You were just rereading the scenes making sure you had Poppy’s vibe down, as you’d read the book and spoken to the author herself. When Lando came up behind you.

He lifted your thighs and hips up so you were sort of in doggy styled which made you groan ready to protest that you weren’t ready for sex as you were still exhausted after last night.

“I know baby, is it okay if I just use those pretty thighs of yours. I just need you so bad but I know we went hard last night!” He whines in a pleading way that had your head turning round to try and look at him over your shoulder.

“And that didn’t take the beast enough?” You ask wide eyes and he shakes his head with a guilty look.

“Argh fine go ahead just don’t distract me from the script. I need to read my lines out loud.

“Why don’t you move into one of those sex scenes huh?” He asks lightly biting the top bit of your ear making you giggle.

“Alright hmmmm I can’t remember where they have sex” you say flicking through the script until you find it.

“Will you actually have to have sex with this guy?” Lando asks looking at you.

“No you weirdo it’s all acting and we have stuff like in between us” you tell him with a laugh as you feel him slip his cock between your thighs. You squeeze them together and hear him moan above you as you start talking him through the sex scene you were supposed to perform with Tom.

His thrusts speed up as you talk him through the actions and what is being said until he pulls back his cum spurting into the back of your thighs as he sighs with a little whine.

“Thanks baby, you’re the best” he smiles, grabbing a tissue from the table to help clean you up. You highlight stuff in the scrip that you consider valuable information before you feel Lando’s weight on top of you.

“I love you so much. Thank you for always making time for me” you say genuinely closing the script and holding his hand that is on your forearm.

Taglist:

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[misspygmypie]

Meet & Greet... and more? Pt. 7

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Words: 2332 Click here for Part 6

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Max wasn’t just any friend - he was a fellow former racer, gaming buddy and part of Lando’s team at Quadrant. Their history went way back to their childhood karting days and today he was about to meet Lando’s new little family.

Noah’s eyes sparkled with wonder at the sight of the go-karts when they were walking through the track. Lando walked right behind him, holding Y/N’s hand and guiding the little boy gently with the other.

“There he is,” Lando said, spotting Max near the Quadrant camera setup, laughing with some of their other members. Max caught sight of Lando and his grin widened, making his way over with his usual easygoing stride.

“Mate, finally,” Max greeted, pulling Lando into a brotherly embrace, then stepping back to look at Y/N and Noah. “And you must be Y/N and Noah I’ve heard so much about!”

“Nice to finally meet you, Max,” Y/N smiled warmly. “Lando’s told us all about you.”

Max pulled her into a quick hug and then crouched down to Noah’s level, his smile widening. “Hey there buddy, you know, Lando told me you’re really good at video games. Maybe even better than him, right?”

Noah giggled shyly, looking up at Lando for confirmation. Lando chuckled and nodded. “He’s a natural, he can game for hours.”

Max straightened up, turning his attention back to Lando. “Speaking of which, remember the time we were doing that endurance karting race and you insisted on pushing the limits every lap?”

Lando groaned, already knowing where Max was headed. “Oh no, not this story…”

Max smirked, clearly enjoying the chance to embarrass his friend. “So there we were, in this all-night karting race and Lando here was determined to beat my lap times. It was the middle of the night, pitch dark and he somehow managed to miss the pit entry and ended up driving straight into the team’s camping tent!”

Y/N burst out laughing, covering her mouth in surprise, while Noah’s eyes widened with curiosity. “Did you really drive into a tent, Lando?” Noah asked, his voice filled with awe.

Lando sighed dramatically but couldn’t help but laugh along. “Yeah, it wasn’t my finest moment. But in my defense, it was dark and I was just trying to keep up with Max.”

“Always trying to outdo me, even in the most ridiculous ways,” Max laughed, clapping Lando on the back. “And let’s not forget the time you tried to film a stunt for Quadrant, only to slip and end up flat on your back, live in front of thousands of viewers!”

Y/N raised an eyebrow at Lando, who was now blushing slightly. “Oh, so you’ve always been this smooth, huh?”

Lando groaned, covering his face with his hands. “Max, you’re supposed to make me look good in front of Y/N, not tell her about every time I’ve messed up!”

“Come on, that’s what friends are for! Besides, you’ve got to stay humble, right?” Max just grinned, clearly loving every moment of this. 

As they continued to chat, Max kept the stories coming, sharing tales of their karting days, their countless pranks on each other and the early days of Quadrant. With every story Y/N could see how deep their friendship ran and how much they genuinely enjoyed each other’s company.

Noah tugged on Max’s sleeve, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Can we drive go-karts together sometime, Max?”

“Absolutely, buddy,” Max’s face lit up, “we’ll set up a special day just for you. Maybe I’ll even teach you some tricks, just don’t tell Lando!”

The day went on and after the video for Quadrant was all filmed they all ended up at Max’s place for the rest of the day. With every passing minute it became clearer and clearer that Noah and Max were hitting it off. The moment Max crouched down to Noah’s level the two seemed to form an instant bond. The little boy was fascinated by Max’s stories, his jokes and the way he talked to him like they were equals.

Lando watched them, a smile on his face, but there was a twinge of something else - something like jealousy - bubbling inside of him. He was thrilled that Noah and Max were getting along so well but he couldn’t help but feel a bit left out as his best friend and girlfriend's son formed their own little duo.

Y/N noticed the subtle shift in Lando’s mood and gave him a gentle nudge. “You okay?” she asked softly, a knowing look in her eyes.

Lando shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just didn’t expect them to hit it off this well.”

“You know Noah adores you, right?” Y/N smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. “He’s just excited to meet someone new who’s as cool as you.”

Lando chuckled, though he still felt a little pang of envy as he watched Max and Noah. The two were now huddled together, Max showing Noah how to use a racing simulator setup. Noah was completely enthralled, his little hands gripping the steering wheel as Max guided him through the basics.

“Look, Lando! I’m driving,” Noah called out, his voice filled with excitement.

Lando forced a smile and walked over, ruffling Noah’s hair. “You’re doing great, buddy,” he said, trying to shake off the feeling of being the third wheel.

Max glanced up at Lando, catching the hint of jealousy in his friend’s eyes. He smirked and teased, “don’t worry, mate. I’m not trying to steal your thunder. I’m just giving Noah a taste of the Fewtrell magic.”

Lando rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, yeah. Just remember, I’m still his favorite.”

“We’ll see about that,” Max grinned, giving Noah a playful wink.

While Lando couldn’t deny that he was a little jealous he was also happy. Seeing Noah so happy and comfortable meant the world to him and he knew that Max was only adding to that joy.

Later that evening, as the sun began to set, Lando found himself sitting on a bench, watching as Max and Noah played a game of tag in Max’s backyard. Y/N sat beside him, her hand resting on his.

“You know, it’s okay to be a little jealous,” she said gently, reading his thoughts.

Lando sighed, leaning back. “I know. I guess I’m just not used to sharing my best friend - or my family.”

Y/N smiled, squeezing his hand. “But that’s what makes it so special, right? You’re not losing anything, you’re just adding more love, more laughter and more memories.”

“You’re right,” Lando nodded, her words sinking in. “And honestly, seeing Noah this happy… It’s worth it.”

They watched Max chase Noah around and Lando felt the last of his jealousy melt away. In its place was a deep feeling of gratitude - gratitude for the people in his life who made every day brighter and for the moments that reminded him just how lucky he was.

“Lando,” Noah called out, running over to him with Max close behind. “Come play with us!”

Lando grinned, standing up and reaching out to lift Noah into his arms. “Alright, alright. Let’s see if you two can keep up with me!”

Y/N watched the three of them run off with a smile, knowing that they were building something special.

______

It was a sunny Sunday morning at the circuit a few weeks later and after the successful introduction of Y/N and Noah to his best friend Lando wanted to take the next big step: Introduce them to his parents. The moment had been on his mind for weeks and as he led them through the paddock he couldn’t help but feel nervous.

The three of them walked together, Noah in the middle holding each of Y/N and Lando’s hands. He was taking in the buzz of the race weekend and the people rushing around. His tiny hand tightened around his mother’s fingers as they approached the McLaren motorhome where Lando’s parents, Cisca and Adam, were waiting.

“They’re really looking forward to meeting you both,” Lando said, offering a reassuring smile. He had told his parents about Y/N and Noah the day after they had started dating and they had been eager to finally meet the two people who had brought so much joy into his life. Today, five months later, the day was finally here.

As they reached the entrance, Lando spotted his parents just inside, chatting with a few members of the team. Cisca was the first to notice them, her face lighting up as she nudged Adam and made her way over.

“Lando,” she exclaimed, pulling her son into a warm hug. Lando grinned and returned the embrace before turning to Y/N and Noah. “Mum, Dad, this is Y/N and this little guy here is Noah.”

Y/N felt a flutter of nerves as Cisca turned her attention to her but the warmth in the older woman’s eyes immediately put her at ease.

“It’s so lovely to finally meet you, Y/N,” Cisca said, giving her a gentle hug. “Lando has told us so much about you both.”

Adam stepped forward shaking Y/N’s hand before crouching down to the boy. “So you are the famous Noah,” he said with a kind smile. “Are you excited to see the race?”

Noah nodded shyly, his big eyes fixed on the man in front of him. “Yeah,” he said softly before glancing up at Lando. “I want to see Lando win.”

Adam chuckled. “Well, we all do! How about we go find some snacks and get ready to cheer him on?”

Noah’s face brightened at the mention of snacks and he nodded enthusiastically. Y/N couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her son warming up to Lando’s parents so quickly.

While they made their way through the motorhome Lando stayed close to Y/N, occasionally glancing over to see how she was doing. She seemed more relaxed now and the sight of her laughing at something Cisca had said made him happy.

Cisca and Adam were instantly charmed by Noah’s curiosity and sweetness and Y/N found herself feeling more and more at ease as the morning went on. She could see where Lando got his kindness and sense of humor from.

Later, after they had all settled into their seats in the family area, Noah found himself a bit restless. The excitement of the day and the overwhelming sights and sounds of the racetrack were a lot for a four-year-old to take in. He fidgeted in his seat, his small hands gripping the edge as his eyes followed the blur of cars speeding by on the track.

Cisca noticed and leaned over with a warm smile. “Would you like to sit with me, Noah?” she asked softly, her voice gentle and inviting. Noah hesitated for a moment, glancing up at his mom. Y/N nodded encouragingly and with that silent approval Noah shuffled over to Cisca. 

“There we go, sweetheart,” Cisca said, lifting him onto her lap. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him securely as he settled against her. The connection between them was immediate, as if he had always been part of the family.

Noah relaxed almost instantly, his earlier nervousness melting away in the comfort of her embrace. He leaned back against her, his tiny body fitting perfectly in her lap, and gazed out at the track with wide eyes. 

Cisca, noticing his gaze was still intent on the cars, pointed to the track. “Do you see Lando? He’s driving really fast! And we’re here to cheer him on, aren't we’?”

Noah nodded vigorously, his small hands gripping the edge of the seat as he leaned forward a little, as if that would help him see Lando’s car better. “Go, Lando, go!” he shouted, his voice ringing out clear and strong above the noise of the cars.

Cisca laughed softly and she gently rocked Noah as they both watched the race. Every time Lando’s car zoomed by Noah would point and cheer, his little voice growing hoarse but full of excitement.

Adam, sitting next to them, couldn’t help but smile at the sight. He exchanged a glance with Y/N, who was watching them obviously relieved. It was clear that seeing Noah so happy and comfortable with Lando’s parents was a huge weight lifted off her shoulders.

The race continued and Cisca and Noah formed a little routine. She would point out different things on the track, explaining them in simple terms that Noah could understand and he would respond with questions. It was as if they had known each other for much longer than just a few hours.

At one point the boy looked up at Cisca, his big, innocent eyes searching hers. “Can we always watch Lando’s races together?” he asked, his voice filled with the kind of sincerity only a child could have.

“Of course we can, Noah,” she replied, kissing the top of his head. “We’re a team now and teams stick together.”

Noah beamed at her answer, turning his attention back to the track with renewed excitement. The race neared its end and Noah remained on Cisca’s lap, nestled comfortably against her. He was still full of energy, his little body practically buzzing and when Lando crossed the finish line the entire family erupted into cheers.

Cisca hugged the boy tightly while Adam reached over to ruffle Noah’s hair affectionately. “Looks like we’ve got a future racer in the family,” he joked, making everyone laugh.

Y/N, watching the exchange, felt a tear slip down her cheek, quickly brushing it away before anyone could notice. She had always hoped that whoever came into her life would accept Noah as their own but to see Lando’s family not only accepting but also embracing her son with open arms was more than she could have ever dreamed of.

_____

A/N: Cisca's surprise visit yesterday was just so fricking cute 😍 so I decided to expand by 2 more chapters, I just love writing this series way too much, so stay tuned for Part 8!

Tag: @barcelonaloverf1life @remmysthings @poppyflower-22 @vickykazuya @hadids-world @ririyulife @deafeningunknowntyrant @lexiecampos @littlegrapejuice @eloriis @yawn-zi @landossainz @taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs @casuallyeating @jaydensluv @destinyg237 @il0vereadingstuff @lnchicagosreads @alana4610 @hc-dutch

[lcriedlastnight]

Hi,

Ok so this is inspired by all the drama and gossip I’ve seen on Instagram recently.

Can you write something with Lando and Y/N where Lando has made it clear from the very start that he likes Y/N and wants to date her? Y/N likes him back but is hesitant to start a relationship because of his many female friends, the fact that he and his family still follow his ex-girlfriend on social media, and because he still wears the bracelet his ex-girlfriend gave him. And y/n isn’t comfortable nor is she the type of person who would date guys with so many girls around him. She doesn’t want to explicitly tell Lando her reasons (because she doesn’t want to tell him what to do and not to do) so she always gives subtle hints when he asks why she doesn’t want to date him. Lando never picks up on these hints until someone close to him points it out, and he finally realizes what Y/N has been trying to tell him. And from here you can continue however you want

anon the way this is sooo real. also the drama? idc about it but i absolutely love drama in any way so!

tw: fem!reader, swears, idk lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.9k

ever since you had first met lando he had made it very clear that he wanted a relationship with you and that he really did like you. the boy was all over you. he was constantly offering you take you out on dates when he was in the same place as you. he always wanted to be around you, giving you a call to come over and sit in his flat with him while he deep cleaned his kitchen. lando even told all of his friends about how much he liked you. oscar was sick fed up of hearing how pretty he thought your eyes were and max had told him that if he did not shut up about how infectious your laugh was he was going to leave him to sort out the details for the quadrant video for himself.

so it was safe to say that you had no reason to doubt that lando like you. you liked him too. you did not show it in the same ways as him though, you just being a tad more on the shyer side. your mind should have been convinced that lando only had eyes for you but it felt like you were adding two and two together to get five. his actions just did not make sense to your insecure mind.

the first 'red flag' you had stumbled across- well you did not even stumble across it. your friend did. and had told you it was one hundred percent a red flag and how were you to know any different? you were not experienced in this kind of thing, due to your shyness.

you had both been out for lunch and some shopping when you had just been chatting about lando and how things were going. she had asked why you guys had not done much more than two or three basic dates and you had responded that you were a little nervous to progress with him. she had questioned this and at that point you were not totally sure why you were feeling like that which had made you feel more guilty at the time. you had told her about one little thing that was niggling at the back of your brain since you had discovered it. all of lando's loved ones still followed his ex girlfriend on basically all socials and even liked her pictures regularly, this included lando. although lando had not liked a picture since they had been dating he still followed her.

"you are having a laugh?" she gasped at your words. the way she seemed shocked had made you a little nervous. were you wrong to be worried about it? were you not worried enough about it? it was moments like these that you thought you were not cut out for romantic relationships, it was much too hard these days. you wished for simpler times when if you liked someone you just told them and then you were dating.

"is that bad?" you had asked her, worriedly.

"i mean, it's kinda a red flag. why would he want to follow her? unless he was still close with her. he must be if his family still follow her. she must've been one of those girlfriends that the whole family falls in love with too." your friend explains as thoughts. you had thought that her explanation would have made you feel better but just like that you felt your mind shift into almost sure to doubt.

you knew your friend kind of had a point with what she had said but the rational part of you, deep deep down, was telling you that all of this was just causing unnecessary doubt to grow in your mind. it reminded of you of how lando acts towards you and it settled your mind for a minute or so before you fell down the hole again. you had always believed actions spoke louder than words but what actions spoke louder in this case?

from then you had fallen down a horrible spiral of pulling apart almost everything lando did. your mind always going back to that conversation in a cafe and reminding you of what your friend told you.

lando had invited you out as he had missed you a lot and of course you had said yes because as much as you were stressing yourself out about all of this, you did like him. you were just wary, that was all. it was not your scene at all, this house party. you did not know anyone there except lando and max. max was there alone as his girlfriend was not able to make it. you three sat with each other all night and max had gotten a front row seat into seeing exactly how lando was acting around you and vice versa.

all throughout the night, girls that lando was apparently 'friends' with had come up to him and blatantly flirted with him, right in front of your face, everyone here knew that he had brought you here with him as his date. so it confused you to no end how lando just sat back and let these girls flirt with him. it was literally textbook, basic flirting. finger twirling a piece of hair around as she giggled at something he said. even though it was not really that funny. and you just had to sit back and watch because what else were you supposed to do? you did not want to tell him how to live his life. if he wanted to be 'friends' with these girls then who were you to tell him he could not be? you guys were not even dating, for gods sake! even if you were you were definitely not one of those girls who told their boyfriends that they cannot even talk to another girl, never mind be friends with one.

once the fourth girl of the hour had left you all alone lando turns to you again.

"you're a wanted man tonight." you tell him, your voice tight as you tried not to be jealous. you felt stupid being jealous, was there anything to even be jealous over? lando laughs at your words and does not seem to notice your tone or even the expression clear as day on your face. you were too busy talking to lando to notice that max had notice everything you had tried to hide.

"guess i am." is all he says. it stuns you that that was all he said to you but you do not cause any drama about it. well you do not mean to. it just comes out, really. you just have to hope that he does not take it to heart.

"it's a lot of girls." it comes out like a half laugh half scoff. max thinks lando is incredibly dumb for not even noticing the reassurance you were clearly seeking right now. he set himself a metal note to slap him on the back of the head once they were alone.

lando barely even registers the words you say as he changes the subject and that is it forgotten about. you know it was not on purpose. he did not mean to just change the subject there and then when you had brought that up but it kind of did make sense and in your mind it went down as another red flag. it sat right next to the one your friend had pointed out a few weeks earlier.

you had left a little earlier than you had originally intended and as you were waving goodbye to both boys from inside the taxi, lando had ever so kindly booked and payed for you, you see max's hand come to slap the back of his friend's head. it made you laugh but you did not think too much about it. neither did lando apparently as he just hits max back ten times harder as he heads back inside.

the third and final 'red flag' came from when you were stalking instagram. you knew yourself you should not have been scrolling through the f1 gossip pages but you got curious about that curly-haired boy that took up your mind constantly. you do not have to scroll very far to get to something that upsets you. a picture of lando with a fan and a second one zoomed in on his arm, showcasing a lovely bracelet that you had seen lando wear many times. the caption? 'lando is still wearing the bracelet his ex got him!'.

you felt dumb again. you did not have to ask anyone if that was a 'red flag', you already knew. the next time you met up with lando after you had seen the instagram post you immediately noticed the piece of jewellery and it was so fucking hard to take your eyes off of it from then. somehow max had ended up on this outing too and just like always, he noticed your eyes glued to his arm. it did not take him long to put the pieces together. he knew there and then that he had to sit down and have a chat with him. as soon as he possibly could.

max had left to pop into a different shop as you and lando had waited outside together.

"so, can i ask why exactly you don't wanna date me?" lando asks bluntly, like he had been sitting on the question for a while.

you flush. "we've been on dates." you tell him, like he was not there and did not already know that.

"i know. but i get the feeling you don't wanna go further with me. it's alright if you don't but i'd like to know why?" lando asks, you can see the traces of hurt in his eyes as the mere thought of you not wanting him the same way he wanted you.

"no, i do. well i don't but i do. i like you, really like you. but i'm scared to go further with you."

lando looks at you confused, as if it was baffling to him to be scared to jump head first into something, especially when he keeps making you doubt if you were seriously even an option in his mind sometimes.

"why are you scared?" lando presses further but before you can respond max comes out with a bag in hand and asks if you can all stop for some food. the moment is gone and you are not too sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

after the outing was finished and max and lando were hanging out at lando's max finally decides to have the conversation with his friend. hoping that he will knock some sense into his seemingly senseless mate. lando beats him to it though.

"today while we were out, i asked her why she doesn't why doesn't wanna be with me and she said she was scared? she didn't get to tell me why." lando admits, his worry evident to his friend. max huffs at his friends obliviousness.

"she's scared because you're going around wearing shit your ex got you! doesn't help that your surrounded by girls flirting with you and you don't even shoot them down. and not getting any hints she drops? dude you're more stupid than i thought."

lando's brows rise as he lets max's words set in. he is completely shocked. he had not thought about any of this or about how it would effect you. he suddenly felt a rush of guilt wash through him. he needed to see you right now.

lando basically runs to you, leaves max at his flat and rushes over to yours. he needs to apologise as soon as he can. he needed you to know that you seriously are the one he wants the most.

[rosielovesf1]

on the move | LN4

quadrant moving company coming soon

word count: 1k

warnings: none! (but i have not written in toooo long and i have writer's block so please bear with me 😭)

author's note: thank y'all SO MUCH for 100 followers!!! i am on summer holiday so hopefully will be way more frequent with posts than i have been. if you have any story/driver requests, please message me or use the button on my home page :))

Boxes. Everywhere. y/n ran a hand through her hair, sighing at all that still needed to be done. 

Just picture the apartment. Gorgeous with floor to ceiling windows, a spacious kitchen that filled with light in the afternoons. Most of all, the first place that she could truly call her own after graduation- the incredibly rewarding result of balancing a job and uni for the past four years. 

“Baby, do you want your mugs in with the kitchen stuff or the fragiles?” y/n shuffled over to the kitchen from the bedroom, smiling at the sight of her boyfriend on tiptoe, reaching for the top shelf of the cabinets. 

“Need some help with that?” she giggled, wrapping her arms around him from behind and leaving a soft peck on his neck. He groaned but relaxed into her touch. 

“I think-,” He tugged her arm and she moved to stand in front of him, grinning as she met his green eyes. The room seemed to grow hotter as he caged her in between his arms, the cool granite counter biting into her lower back. There was a glint in his eyes that sent a shiver through her body.

“Lan-” The clock was ticking on her move out date, but a twenty minute break wouldn’t do any harm. Maybe they’d even be more efficient after. She wrapped her arms around his neck, lips parted in anticipation. 

“I need-” One of his hands came up to brush a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Mmhmm.” The feather light touch was delicious. 

“To stage an intervention. You have so much stuff.” It took her a second to react to the sudden change in mood, a slow grin spreading over his face as he could practically see the gears turning in y/n’s head. He took advantage of the spare moment to nip playfully at her nose, full on laughing when she pushed him back suddenly. 

“I need all my stuff!” y/n protested, crossing her arms defiantly. 

“Baby, you can’t even reach that stuff. It’s just collecting dust up there.” The entire top shelf of the cabinet was cluttered with cups of various shapes and sizes. Some were pretty crystal in pastel colors, others were travel souvenirs sporting slogans like “My friend went to Cancun and all I got is this cup” (yes, there were multiple of those. from the same places.), and there were even a couple that were shaped like animals. The giraffe-shaped ceramic mug had lost its head, and it almost looked a little… phallic… without it. 

“Yes, I can. Watch.” y/n pushed herself onto the counter, taking a moment to steady herself before standing up, now easily at eye level with the cup collection. She smiled triumphantly down at Lando, the moment only dimmed by a sneeze that made her eyes water. Okay, so maybe he had a point about the dust. 

“You’re making me nervous.” He wrapped his hands around y/n’s thighs to steady her, squeezing once to punctuate his words. “Get down, please.” 

She ignored his words and savored the warmth of his touch, reaching for the giraffe mug and grinning at its misshapen appearance. It’d been a souvenir from the zoo when her and her twin brother were children- so well loved that they’d accidentally broken it when deciding who got to take it to uni. 

“Alright, point made.” The reminiscing was interrupted as the world suddenly tilted. She grabbed for the shelf as she leaned forward, Lando gripping her thighs to keep them in place on top of his shoulders.

“Hey! I wasn’t done up there.” She tugged at his curls, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head when he grumbled in protest. “I was thinking of Ratatouille.” 

“That would make you the rat, baby.” That comment earned him a thunk on the head.

Y/n didn’t mind the view from up here- Lando started walking towards the bedroom, where most of what needed to be packed remained. He slowed as they walked through the low door frame, and she smooshed her cheek against his as she leaned down to avoid hitting her head. 

This was the bedroom where she’d studied for her last exams, watched movies with her roommates, even where Lando had taken care of her after a night that was a little too much fun. It was weird to leave it behind, but with her roommates all moved out and the decor taken down, it hardly seemed like the setting of some of her most favorite memories. Lando backed up into the bed, and she fell off his shoulders onto the soft comforter with an oomph. 

“You know…” she said, flipping over onto her stomach. Lando flopped down next to her, humming to tell her to continue. “If you think I should do some decluttering, maybe I should do away with some of my Quadrant hoodies.” 

She’d developed quite a collection over the year they’d been together- one in every design from each drop, and a fair few of Lando’s as well. 

“No. Those stay,” he mumbled, grabbing her around the waist and tickling her across the ribs. She squealed and kicked as she tried to get away from him, eventually straddling him to escape his fingers. 

His eyes raked down her figure at their position, and she just laughed and pushed his face to the side before climbing off. Both staring at the stark white ceiling, she reached to lace her fingers in between his. 

“I’m so excited,” she started, her voice soft. “New apartment, close to my favorite person,” he squeezed her hand at that, “and a new job that I can’t wait to start. I feel like I’m growing up.” 

“I’m so proud of you baby.” They just laid there for a second, savoring each other’s company, watching the dust that almost seemed to sparkle in the late afternoon sunlight. y/n was perfectly content- her favorite person by her side, and a world of new possibilities just days away.

@y/n-l/n is on the move… and all of her mugs are coming with her

@landonorris quadrant moving company coming soon

[quietstormxr]

Green Dragon

My first post out to the Tumblr universe. Here’s some angst between you and Xaden.

Let me know what y’all think! And if there should be a part 2!

The green dragon, but not your green dragon, have taken residence inside your heart and mind. Never before had you felt threatened in your relationship; however, something seemed to change the minute Violet Sorrengail entered the quadrant. Not only did your friends seem distracted by the girl, but you could feel him peeling away little by little.

As days and months wore on, it seemed that the interest that peaked in him as he withdrew from interest in you. At first, you figured it was the stress of the deal with her mother, then you realized that wasn’t it at all. He stopped visiting. He stopped paying attention to you. He stopped seemingly seeing you at all. To protect yourself, you began to pull away. You thought he would notice, but once threshing passed, it all seemed to be over. Xaden told you that he was just figuring things out due to the mating bond between Sgaeyl and Tairn and his life now being tethered to Violet’s, but it seemed there were more to things.

At that point, you had decided you’d pull back from everyone and see what changed. One night in December, you decided some fresh air was needed and that’s when your heart broke. There he was kissing her. His hands in her hair and pushing her up against a wall. You couldn’t believe the brokenness you felt. He couldn’t even come to you first and end things before moving on. The feelings of worthlessness and nothingness were enveloping you again. Watching the person that had driven those feelings from you drove the despair in deep and fast. The thought that the man you had picked you up from broken pieces could toss you aside so fast was the most heartbreaking thing you had ever experienced. From there on you knew that there was no going back, your relationship was done, and you were done pretending.

The next day, you couldn’t even look anyone in the eye. At breakfast Bodhi and Garrick both asked if you were ok, but you brushed them off and went to class. During class, Eya and Imogen tried to talk, but you just ignored them. Even though you weren’t a marked one, most all your friends were. You knew that since Xaden would never be abandoned, you would now be pushing them all away as well.

Being that Xaden seemed always busy with leadership, the revolution, and now Violet, it seemed you didn’t even have to have “the talk”. At least that is what you were hoping, until one day in January, he showed up at your door. You opened it a crack to see him standing there looking at you expectantly.

“I have nothing to say to you, Xaden.” You told him with a cold certainty.

He looked at you questioningly. You noticed the fight in his eyes, the only place he ever showed his emotions.

“I don’t want to fight with you about this, us, or whatever we were to each other. I know you’ve moved on and I would appreciate it if you would let me do the same.” You said. With that, you shut the door on him and slammed your face in your pillow.

‘It’s ok to protect your heart, Stormy One. I could always maim him in a place that would not anger Sgaeyl.” Cedri states.

‘Thanks for the offer, Cedri, but I’m not sure that would help.’

You were lucky that your dragon, though being a curmudgeon at times, always knew when to push you or comfort. Cedri was always there to bolster you in times of doubt and fear.

The next day, things seemed to change. Imogen, Eya, and even Soleil seemed to distance themselves from you. You didn’t mind, it seemed to make the process of moving on to pick up the pieces easier. It only seemed that they boys didn’t get the memo.

It was obvious that Xaden must have said something, as Garrick seemed to keep staring at you from the leadership table at breakfast. And it was on the way out from breakfast that Bodhi came up to you and asked if he could walk you to class. Due to the overwhelming exhaustion of your own feelings, you just said ok and let him walk you in silence. The most unusual part of the day came when Liam came up to you during dinner and asked if he could sit with you and your squad.

“Aren’t you supposed to be on guard duty, Mairi?” you asked with a look of pure confusion on your face.

“Well, yes. But I was hoping that maybe I could convince you to sit at our table.” He looked with a sheepish grin.

“Thanks, Liam. I think I’ll have to pass on that one.” How could he think that you would want to be anywhere near the girl that took your world away?

He walked away seemingly saddened by your answer, but you just stared back at him in disbelief.

It didn’t make sense that now they all seemed to be interested in what you were doing. You knew that Xaden would have told them what happened, well Garrick at least. Garrick would’ve informed the others.

The next few weeks passed by uneventfully enough. Your world seemed to find a new rhythm now that you had distanced yourself from your marked friends. You started spending more time with your three other squad mates and the change didn’t go unnoticed.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why have you started hanging out with us so much?” asked Nico pointing around the table between himself, Kai, and Iona.

You shrugged your shoulders and said, “Is that not ok?”

“Of course, its ok!” Nico said. “We are all glad you are, but just really wanted to check that everything was alright. You seem to be shutting your other friends out.”

You let out a huff of a laugh and slowly shake your head. “Yeah, that happens when you find out someone cheated on you and then don’t come to you about it.”

Nico looks at you with eyes wide in surprise. Everyone knew that you were in a relationship of sorts, but no one knew who it was with.

“Well if we need to bury a body, you just have to say the words.”

And with that you break out into fits of laughter, the first in months and you can feel four pairs of eyes on your back.

As the weeks passed, you started to get into a new rhythm. You found new sparring partners, friends, and even went on a few dates. You didn’t miss the glances from the boys when they thought you weren’t looking. But the thing that you couldn’t understand was why Xaden would ever be looking.

You were in the middle of studying in the commons with Kai and felt his eyes before even meeting his gaze. The thing that surprised you most was the flash of sadness and, was that jealousy, that crossed his face. You shook your head knowing that you must have dreamt those looks and went back to your books. But that didn’t help the thoughts from swirling.

Why would he be sad? He seemed to have a shiny, new obsession, why would he care what you were doing?

‘Maybe things aren’t really what they seem.’ Cedri states.

‘That may be true, but how would I know when no one has said anything otherwise.’ You retort.

The next few days seemed to drag, but you found yourself feeling lighter than you had in a while. You started getting up for morning runs in the past few days and that seemed to help your mood improve. That was until a week later; you saw Bodhi standing at the wall out of the citadel on your way there for a run.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of this morning visit Bodhi?” you question.

“I just wanted to see if we could talk, maybe hang out later? Things have been weird lately between you and everyone and I just wanted to see what was going on.” He explains.

“Did someone put you up to this?”

“No.” He says resolutely with a furrow in his brow. “I just miss hanging out with you and talking. We’ve been friends since we entered this hellhole and I just want to continue that.”

“Fine, we can talk later. Want to meet down by the river after classes today? I could use some fresh air away from the quadrant.”

“Sure, I’ll see you down there.” He says and walks back towards the academic building.

‘If he tries to hurt you, I will make sure Cuir does not have a good evening.’

‘I don’t think that’s Bodhi’s plan, but I know you’ll be there to make sure.’

‘Of course, you do not think I would leave you with those humans after the hurt they’ve inflicted recently.’

‘I would never expect anything less.’

You can hear your dragon ‘harumph’ in a sigh at your confidence.

[lnfours]

i keep thinking of a second chance romance with lando, f.e. being young and having made stupid decisions when his career was just taking off, and then after a few years kind of wishing to get it all back🤔

i am: sobbing. i love second chance romances. also i got carried away… again…

lando brainrot? lando brainrot.

max fewtrell was the definition of a social butterfly. and if lando didn’t know that already, he sure did now. looking around at the crowd, he was almost sure his friend was more popular than him. he didn’t even know max knew this many people.

the music inside the house was loud, lando swore he could feel the bass in his heart. max had left him a while ago, the rest of the quadrant team off to god knows where. he stood in the kitchen, grabbing a drink and escaping from the crowd in the other room. he scanned the area as he tried his best to find someone to strike up a conversation with so he didn’t look like a total loser while his best friend made his rounds to different people.

that’s when he caught the first glimpse of you, making him do a double take as he looked back to where he thought he saw you. and sure enough, it was. you were here. in london. in the flesh. after all this time, you had come back.

his feet were moving before his brain could process what he was doing, mumbling soft ‘excuse me’s as he tried his hardest to reach you. luckily, ethan had found you and managed to keep you in a spot where he could join in on the conversation.

“that’s great, ethan!” you smiled, “congratulations!”

“thanks,” he smiled before lando caught his eye, “mate, look who’s here!”

you turned around to look at who ethan was talking to behind you, only to be met with those familiar green eyes and brown curls. you felt your heart squeeze in your chest, and all of a sudden you were brought back to when you were nineteen and madly in love.

scratch that, the only time you ever considered yourself to be in love.

you and lando weren’t necessarily on bad terms, the both of you had just drifted away. you had been through every thing together, attached to the hip since you were children. and the breakup was hard, sure, but with you moving to the states and his career taking off, neither of you had much time to think about it. you didn’t let yourself think about it.

“hey,” he said, coming to stand with the two of you now, “you’re… here?”

you smiled softly at the brit in front of you, “i wasn’t going to miss max’s engagement party.”

ethan had disappeared from the two of you, finding his way back to niran and aarav. it was just the two of you.

“yeah,” lando smiled softly, “uhm, how’s the states?”

“fine,” you shrugged, “no place like home, though.”

“you’re just back for the party?”

you hummed, taking a sip of your drink, “actually, they asked if i wanted to be a project leader for something they’re working on in the office over here, so i’m back in london for right now.”

he raised his eyebrows, “oh, that’s awesome, congratulations.”

you smiled, “thanks,” you couldn’t help it, your eyes taking him in. he looked good. so good. of course you still kept tabs on him, still watched the races when you had the chance to do so. but something about seeing him again after all this time, in the flesh and not on your tv screen, your heart was yearning, “saw your podium last week, mega drive.”

he shrugged, “it was alright, i guess.”

“don’t tell me you still do that.”

he laughed softly, “do what?”

“your thing!” you chuckled, “you do that thing where, no matter how good of a drive you have, you’re like ‘eh, could be better’.”

“well, it could be,” he said, “could’ve been me on the first place spot.”

“you’ll get there one day.”

he smiled softly at you before looking around the crowd. he spotted the door to that lead to the back deck that looked vacant, “did you want to step outside? get some air.”

you nodded and he offered you his hand. you took it gently, letting him lead you through the crowd of people before you reached the back door. he opened it, letting you step outside first. the cool summer breeze was a relief, the escaping from the loud music and an overwhelming amount of people.

“forgot why i loved this place so much,” you said, looking up at the night sky as he closed the door behind him, “you can see the stars here. can’t see much in new york.”

he hummed, stepping behind you, “might as well take in as much as the night sky you can get.”

“believe me, i am,” you chuckled softly, turning around to face him. the moonlight dimly lit his face as he stood in front of you, and you could finally see the start of a little bit of facial hair on his chin. you smiled teasingly, pointing at it, “i see you can finally grow facial hair,”

he rolled his eyes, “yeah and if i remember correctly, you said you were into guys with no facial hair.”

you twisted your lips in though, “still true.”

“damn,” he mumbled, bringing his hand up to his face, “guess i’ll have to go get a new razor tomorrow.”

you laughed, the two of you taking a seat on the steps of the porch. you looked back up at the sky, trying hard to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. trying so hard that your brain couldn’t filter the next words out of your mouth.

“what ever happened with us?”

he looked over at you now, taking in your side profile before you looked over at him, “what do you mean?”

“do you ever think about us?” you asked, “like where we would be right now if we hadn’t gone and fucked it all.”

he licked his lips, “yeah, all the time.”

“me too.”

“this would probably be our engagement party,” he joked and you smiled, “can’t believe max beat us to it.”

“tell me about it,” you sighed, “i just had to give blake twenty bucks.”

he laughed softly, “no, but, seriously. i’m happy you’re here. i missed you.”

you swallowed, looking back into his eyes, “you missed me?”

“who wouldn’t?” he said, “even when we ended things and you moved and then i moved, i couldn’t help but feel like my life was missing something. like i was missing a piece to the puzzle, and… it was you.”

you were silent for a moment, processing everything that he had said before he cut your thinking process off, “i’m sorry, i didn’t-“

“lan,” you said, placing your hand on his, his rambling pausing as he mouth closed, “i feel the same. i was miserable in new york. i kept feeling like i had left something behind, like i abandoned it. and really, i had abandoned you.”

“you didn’t abandon me.”

“no, but it felt like it,” you said, “our whole lives it’s always been us against the world. and the last couple years it’s felt like its been the whole world against me. letting us go was one of the worst mistakes i ever made.”

“me too,” he said, reaching up and brushing away a strand of hair that had fallen into your face, “i’m still madly in love with you. i don’t think i ever stopped being in love with you.”

“me either.” your voice was softer now, realizing how close he was and taking in all the things you loved about him. his dimples, the way the freckles and moles decorated his face. he was still yours. he always had been.

he leaned forward, nose brushing against yours. you smiled softly, letting him cup your face into his hand. something he always did that would turn you to putty in his hands. even now.

“can i take you out for breakfast tomorrow?”

you nodded, biting down on your lower lip to suppress the grin on your face, which was ultimately failing, “i’d love that.”

he finally pressed his lips to yours, you melting into him. he pulled you as close as he could get you, deepening the kiss as he tilted his head to the side.

“hey, lando! shit, sorry-“

you two broke apart at the sound of max’s voice, who had already turned around and walked away from the two of you. lando laughed softly, letting your head dip down onto his chest.

“well, now we don’t have to worry about telling him.”

[4ln-stay8]

Saving the day

> summary: Lando gets fussy when his hair doesn’t look the way he wants to

> author note: apparently my last fanfic wasn’t as bad as I thought so I tried to make another one

> warnings: fluff, Lando being a sassy diva

Everyone knows that Lando Norris is very serious about his style. He likes to always be on point and honestly he never disappoints. You out of all the people who love and support him know better.

It was Friday morning, usually Lando would be getting ready to go to the track and get ready for practice, but today was different. Today was one of Lando’s days off that weren’t really off. It was a race free weekend, but being the only time he was available he scheduled a photo shoot for his company’s new merch collection.

The morning sun bathed the studio in a soft, golden light as you sat on a fold-out chair, observing the hustle and bustle of the photo shoot for the new Quadrant merchandise. Lando, your boyfriend, alongside Max Fewtrell, his very best friend, were getting ready for the shoot, but something seemed to be bothering Lando.

Lando squirmed in his chair, a look of frustration on his face as a hairstylist carefully styled his hair. "This just doesn't feel right," he muttered to Max, who was sitting nearby.

Max chuckled. "You're a bit picky today, mate. It looks fine to me."

The hairstylist tried again and again to please her employer but Lando just wasn't convinced. He caught your eyes staring at him in the mirror and motioned for you to come over. "Y/N, can you come here for a second?"

You walked over to him, a curious expression on your face. You weren’t very sure of the reason why he called you. Did he wanted your opinion? Did he just wanted a kiss? You had no clue.

Lando was a pretty clingy boyfriend but was he to blame? He was mostly away from you, even when you accompanied him to the track. He didn’t always had the time or he just couldn’t afford to kiss you or cuddle you the way he wanted to. That’s why whenever he got the chance, mostly behind the closed doors of your apartment or in the few private moments he actually had, he swore to show you how much he actually loved you.

When you got next to his chair, you put your hand on his shoulder and said softly “What's up, Lando?"

Lando ran a hand through his hair and frowned. "Something's off with this hairstyle, and it's driving me crazy. You're the only one who gets it right. Can you fix it for me?"

You laughed softly. "Of course, I can. You're lucky I'm here." You took the hairstylist's place and started working on Lando's hair.

It was very safe to say that Lando loved the way you styled his hair. You weren’t a professional or anything but he just liked the way you did it. Was it the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair? Was it the way you actually did his hair? You didn’t really know but neither did he. You always did his hair the way you liked how it looked and he just loved it.

Max raised an eyebrow. "You know how to do hair, Y/N?"

You shrugged. "Not really but I've had plenty of practice with Lando. He's quite particular."

And it was true. Lando was quite particular. From the clothes he was wearing, to the shoes he wore, to the way his hair looked all the way to the accessories he picked. Everything was calculated. He didn’t stressed that much about it, it just came naturally. His brain did all the work before he could even think about it.

As you worked your magic on Lando's hair, he sighed in relief. "Ah, that's so much better. Thanks, babe."

You really didn’t changed much from the way the hairstylist did it. You just moved some strands of hair into their place and fluffed the curls up a little.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair into place. "You're welcome my love. Now, go out there and rock that photo shoot." you said giving him a small kiss for good luck

Lando grinned and stood up, striking a pose. "I always look my best when you're in charge of my hair."

You giggled blushing of his smooth flirty comments. He always did this. He always made sure to make you feel like he just couldn’t live without you, like he was hopeless without you, like you were the most important thing in his life. Because at this point all of them were true.

It might be a little over the top but he just couldn’t get his brain to imagine a future that doesn’t have you in it. He was so madly in love with you, he just adored you. And you adored him just as much.

Max chuckled. "It's true. Y/N's got the magic touch."

Max always tried to get along with you. It wasn’t really hard as your vibes were matching. He always tried to make you feel welcomed and like you belong there, because in his opinion you were. Lando had many girlfriends over the years they knew each other. He loved many of them and many loved him back, but he never seen his best friend like this. He never saw Lando love this hard, you had him wrapped around your finger. He would do anything you asked him to do in a heartbeat. He also never saw someone to love his best friend as hard as you do either. You and Lando were just made for each other and everyone could see that.

As Lando and Max headed to the set, you watched with pride. You knew how important this photoshoot was for them and were happy to help in any way you could.

Throughout the day, you continued to work your hairstyling magic on Lando adjusting his hair often, earning praise from the rest of the crew for your skills. You couldn't help but enjoy the banter and camaraderie between Lando, Max, and the Quadrant team. It was clear that they were not only teammates but also close friends. And now you were a part of that too.

During a break, Lando leaned in to kiss you. "Thanks for saving the day, love." said Lando looking at you with heart eyes.

You grinned. "Anytime, baby. I'm your personal hairstylist, after all." you said giggling and kissed his lips one more time.

Max chimed in, "And the best one at that!" he said laughing. “You know how hard it is to work with him when things don’t go his way” said Max again, teasing his best friend

“Its not my fault that other people just don’t see my vision” said Lando dramatically making everyone laugh.

With your help, the photo shoot went off without a hitch, and the Quadrant merch looked fantastic. As the day came to an end, Lando and Max couldn't have been happier with the results, and you were incredibly proud to have been a part of their successful day.

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 21. Show Me

Summary: After rushing from the training hall, Dahlia is left alone to her thoughts. Or so she thinks.

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist | Support Me

I had no idea how I ended up here. Just letting my feet carry me to wherever they lead me. Which apparently was the top of one of the towers of the Quadrant. It clearly wasn’t used much, but it must have been a place someone came to as there were some footsteps in the dust in the stairwell.

I’m sure the view was beautiful, but all I could do was stare down at my hands, the memory replaying in my head over and over again. The scream echoing loudly in my head over, and over again. I’d barely had my signet a day and it was already a shit show just like the rest of my life. Just when life was starting to be good for once. I was making friends, didn’t have to deal with the constant disappointed looks of my father and brother. I was actually living my life. Now I doubted anyone would want anything to do with me after that.

They must have developed a signet like I had recently. Emetterio knew of my signet after last night, knew it wasn’t entirely safe for me to touch anyone except Bodhi really. His signet was the only one I could trust in my hands. But clearly the other cadet had manifested one without realising. And I’d thrown it back at them without even realising and caused everyone in the Quadrant to look on in horror as they screamed and screamed. I squeeze my eyes shut in an effort to block the memory from my mind, but it does nothing. The scream still echoing loudly in my ears.

I startle as the door next to me opens. I half expect to see Xaden who I knew had tried to follow me out. And at first I think it is him with how tall the person is, but as they fully step through the door, it’s the last person I expect to see. They shut the door behind them before walking over and lowering themselves to the ground as they lean up against the ledge with me, legs sprawled out in front of them. I look up at them to see them staring down at my hands. I’d only ever seen him glare or tease me, so the worried way he looks at my hands is new to me. A softer look to their features I’ve not seen before, as if they were relaxed despite the worry. And I hated to say how much I liked it.

“I’m sorry.” He mutters, an almost pained tone to their voice.

I look at him confused, unsure why he’s apologising to me. “Sorry? Why are you sorry Garrick?”

His shifts his gaze to look at me, and I can see the pain in his hazel eyes. I can see how sorry he is, as if he feels like this is his fault. But there’s something more there. I know the look in his eyes isn’t just to do with what happened to me.

“I’m sorry, because the signet you replicated was mine.” He confesses, averting his gaze as he leans his head back against the stone ledge, looking up at the roof.

I stare at him in disbelief. One because I’d been so adamant I’d replicated the cadet I’d been up against. And two…. Because this was a side of him I had never seen. Not once in my months here had I seen him be anything but the arrogant lumbering oaf I’d assumed him to be. Didn’t think he cared about anyone but himself and the few he kept close. But I can see how worried he is. How bad he feels. There’s no way this is an act. Especially when I lower my gaze and note a slight shake to his hands. I almost want to reach out and grasp them in mine, but after what’s happened I doubt he’d let me. And I internally kick myself for wanting to do so. Just because he feels sorry for me and what’s happened, doesn’t mean he won’t go back to treating me any different once tomorrow comes. Just like my brother and father.

“The same thing happened to me.” He starts, his gaze still set on the roof. “We were doing training while challenges were on hold. Only a few squads were with us. And I had no idea my signet had manifested.” He pauses, taking a deep breath before looking down at his own hands. “We were doing hand to hand combat and at first it was fine. Both of us landing hits on each other without any issue. But as it went on and got more and more intense, I felt something shift in me. Something had changed. And as I pinned them beneath me, their screams echoed around the room as they writhed in pain beneath me.”

Garrick squeezes his fists shut, the tremble now more emphasised due to it. As I look at him I realise what had happened today was almost a copy and paste of what had happened to him last year. No doubt reliving the memory as the screams had echoed around the training room, watching as I pinned them to the ground in a similar manner. Not only was I shaken, but Garrick was to.

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

He turns his head and lightly laughs. “The last thing you need to be is sorry. You did nothing wrong.”

I shake my head. “But I did. I didn’t think. I should have thought about what could happen when I touched your arm. But I didn’t. I didn’t think and now I’ve probably traumatised some poor cadet, and you.” I ramble, finally breaking free of the slump I was in. “Everyone probably thinks I’m a freak.”

He chuckles lightly, my eyes narrowing at him as I glare at him slightly. “Aww you care about me. How sweet.”

I huff and push off the ground, “And there it is. Sorry for trying to be nice.” I snap as I go to storm off.

I barely take a step before his hand grasps my arm halting me in my tracks. I try to pull my arm free, not wanting to accidentally hurt him but he just grips my arm tighter.

“I’m not trying to be an ass. Just thought a joke might make you feel better.” He states bluntly as he stares down at me.

The last time I’d been this close was in the hallway the day after threshing, and I’d forgotten just how tall Garrick truly was as I crane my neck to look up at him. And just like last time, being this close to him affects me more than it should.

“It doesn’t matter, as soon as we walk out of here you’ll go back to hating me and treating me like you normally do.” I say as I try to loosen my arm from his grip.

He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t hate you Dahlia.”

I freeze at his words. In all the months I’d been here, not once had he used my name. Always calling me little Aetos, or some other colourful word. Never by my actual name. And I hated how it caught me off guard. Hated how much I liked it coming from him.

He releases my arm, clearly satisfied I won’t storm off anymore. “At the start, yeah I did. But I’ve realised I never hated you. I hated your name. Your last name. Who I thought you were. Who your father is. And dare I say, I was wrong about you.”

“Is this you trying to apologise?” I ask, staring at him like he’s gone crazy.

Cause clearly he had. Or maybe I had. Maybe I’d been knocked out on that mat and this was just a dream. There was no way these words were coming from Garrick. Garrick who despised me from the moment I stepped off the parapet and he knew my…. My name. I’d barely looked at him but there was no hate in his eyes the first time I’d looked at him. He looked curious and amused as I’d tried to avoid giving my name to him and Xaden. But the moment Dain had uttered my last name, it had changed. Every time he’d looked at me since then there had been hate in his eyes. Until now. And I hated to admit that now as I looked up at him, there was none of that there. For once Garrick Tavis was looking at me like he didn’t hate me.

“I can retract it if you want? But yes, this is me saying that maybe I was wrong about jumping to conclusions about you based off a name.” He admits with a shrug, clearly trying to play it casual.

“You aren’t doing this because you feel bad about the whole signet thing?” I ask, still not sure what he’s saying is true.

“I won’t deny I feel extremely bad about what happened. But it’s not why I’m doing this. And I get if you don’t believe a single word I’m saying to you right now. Just felt like right now was the only time you would listen to me.”

He wasn’t wrong though. As he’d joined me up here I’d let him. I hadn’t scoffed and moved on time I usually would, hadn’t made a smart ass comment to him. I’d watched and let him sit next to me and talk to me properly. Too caught up in what had happened to care. And honestly, I’d wanted to company despite running off.

I walk over to the ledge, looking out over the Quadrant as I think over his words. Despite everything something deep down told me to accept his apology and put all this behind us. What the hell was wrong with me? Why did I want to suddenly forgive him and move on? Maybe Bodhi’s insistence I give him a chance had finally worn me down.

“Ok. “ I utter, turning to look at him. “I’m not fully forgiving you. But I’m giving you a chance Tavis. As they say, actions speak louder than words.”

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94 @the-fandom-ness @fan-of-many-bands @awkardnerd @heeseungthel0ml @acourtofsmutandstarlight @fairchild06 @freyagallileaevans @pit-and-the-pen @hannraumari @elliot-rain @thestarseternaal

[fireheartpages]

free falling | b.d.

bodhi durran x reader one. two. three. part four. five. summary: everyone has their demons, you just chose to run from yours. straight to basgiath war college. and definitely not towards the grinning tall, dark, and handsome marked rider that seemed too kind to be in a hardened place like the rider's quadrant. when you catch his attention and bond a conundrum of a dragon, you finally feel like you can catch your breath. word count: 2.9k ish maybe a bit more note: second person pov--reader has she/her pronouns, a nickname stolen from dirty dancing, and a last name for continuity purposes. warning for daddy issues, and not xaden's. use of surfing techniques to ride a dragon. someone tell me to shut up why is this chapter so long. i havent even gotten to the point yet. another one is probably coming if not tonight, tomorrow. warning for my proofreading skills theyre really bad even when im not drunk and tired

This boy was everywhere.

The mess hall at breakfast. Battle Brief. Challenges and gym. The flight field. The courtyard after class.

And every time you saw him, he had that lopsided grin, like he was saving it just for you.

Sometimes you two would talk. Sometimes it was just a fleeting look or glance, stolen in between moments that made your gravity shift until you were orbiting him. Sometimes, when you did interact, it wasn't for very long--there were always people around you. Rhiannon and Sawyer pulling you to the library, Garrick and Imogen pulling him to the gym. Your conversations took the back seat to Xaden and Violet's bickering (you would pick sides and place bets on the conclusions when this happened). But sometimes, in a rare moment when you would catch each other and you were both alone, he would walk you to your next class, or your dorm. Sometimes he would leave his friends to do so. Sometimes it all gave you a fuzzy feeling, right in the center of your chest.

It was one of those rare moments. He had seen you across the courtyard and said a quick goodbye to his friends--who proceeded to laugh and wolf whistle as he jogged over to you.

You weren't blind, and you weren't stupid. You knew what this was, this growing spark between you. Knew a boy didn't just walk someone to their dorm because they wanted a friend. You just weren't sure you were ready to admit it to yourself yet.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"Hi." That had become a game between the two of you. It always made you giggle, and you really liked the way he looked at you when you were laughing.

You wrung your hands together, tightening the gloves you wore, more as a nervous habit than anything. Shocair had insisted you get better gloves, even suggested you take her scales and make some yourself. And when you had pointed out that you wouldn't know how to do that, she had scoffed and given you a mental eye roll. She was really good at that.

"How are your hands?" Bodhi asked. "Is the balm helping?"

The balm he had gotten made for you. To help the cracking and peeling skin of your palms. The one he had noticed you had a need for, gone to a healer to have made, and brought directly to you.

"Yeah," you said. "I think it is. A lot, thank you."

"Yeah," Bodhi said. "How much do you have left?"

You cocked your head. "About half."

He just nodded, and slid you one of those lopsided grins before offering to walk you back to your room.

And a month later, he had shown up at your door with a new tin of it, and you let him walk you to breakfast that morning.

You hadn't really been alone together, though. If you weren't with one of your friend groups--which had melded together by now, considering the way Violet and Xaden tended to revolve around each other--you were walking through crowded courtyard and buildings and hallways. Which was fine. You weren't expecting anything.

"Liar." That was Shocair. She had taken a liking to Bodhi.

It was comments like that that had prompted you to figure out grounding and shielding prematurely. Turns out, you’re a natural, and one of the strongest in your year. Shocair was annoyed by the development, but nonetheless impressed.

“I chose you for your mind,” she had said. “Do you expect me to be surprised when you excel?”

Despite her grumbling and chiding, and pretending like she wasn’t happy with your progress, Shocair was the most supportive relationship you’d ever had. You’d answer a question in a class that no one else had thought of and receive a hum of approval in your chest, and she never chided you for making mistakes during flight maneuvers—and there were a lot of them—just gently corrected you until you figured it out.

When you had succeeded as a child, your father had always acted like you met expectations, and your mom was never around long enough to counteract it. So maybe a mother-henning dragon was nice. Kind of. Just a little.

The flying was your favorite though. When you weren’t sitting in the field with her doing work, or dancing around whatever was going on between you and Bodhi, you were on Shocair’s back, flying over the field. Sometimes for practice, sometimes for fun. You’d see Tairn putting Violet through the wringer with incredibly difficult maneuvers, and Shocair would mimic them with more grace, making a dance out of it. An art.

You’d gotten ballsy with it, much to her dismay, but you had the sneaking suspicion she enjoyed it as well, considering the contentment she radiated after every practice and class. You’d taken to walking around on her back, one of the more enjoyable tricks you would pull.

That had started out slowly, and with a lot of protests from Shocair.

“Slow down!” you’d called. Then, mind to mind, “Slow down just a little. Please.”

You felt a flair of curiosity, edged with confusion, but she did as asked.

Slowly, you released your grip and braced your thighs until you had your balance.

“What are you doing?” Shocair snapped.

“Trying something.”

You placed your hands flat on her hide, moving with the dips of the flight and the wind around you until you were able to push to stand. You slipped one foot under yourself, leaning into it and steadying your center before bringing the other one up so you were in a crouch.

“This isn’t as easy as the third years make it look,” you mumbled, more to yourself than anything.

“They have two and a half years of riding experience over you.” The panic that was taking root in your chest wasn’t yours. You ground your feet into the sand of your mental beach, turning your back to the wind of the choppy waters until you had blocked out the feeling, but still leaving the bond open enough to communicate with her.

Slowly, meticulously, you shifted your weight back until you were able to stand, your feet grounded on Shocair’s scales, and you raised onto your fingertips. And then your hands were up.

“I need to know how to do this,” you said to her. “My hands aren’t always going to work like I want them to.”

“And standing mid-flight is your solution?” she growled.

“Do you have a better one?”

There was no answer down the bond, but you could feel the disapproval—and you didn’t need the bond for that.

You kept a bend in your knees, shifting your weight when there was movement, leaning into it to keep your balance. This was it, this was what you excelled at. This was what you were made for.

“Do something,” you said to her. “Let’s test this.”

“I’m not catching you when you fall.”

“Then, I won’t fall.”

You did fall, and she did catch you, and then you tried it again, until you could get the hang of it.

Your biggest hat trick had turned into barrel rolling while standing. That had impressed the fuck out of Kaori. It had been an accident the first time it had happened. Shocair had banked too hard, and you’d gone tumbling, free falling, but she had caught you on her back when she had been able to straighten out, soaring over you before diving under to catch you.

Your landing had knocked the wind out of you. “Do that again!”

“Do you not value your life?”

“Just try it!”

You stood again, getting quicker each time you were able to do it until you were practically able to hop up. She tilted, and you leaned into it until you were practically sliding off of her, and then you jumped.

You fell as she soared over you, and then she banked, finishing out the barrel underneath you, and you landed in a crouch. Your hands had grappled for purchase on the pommel, almost slipping off, but you’d done it. And then did it twice more until you had it down pat.

You’d landed to a multitude of back pats, high fives, and even a handshake from your professor. And despite her grumbling, Shocair was puffing out her chest with pride.

So, you were the best at flight maneuvers, top of the class at battle brief, and fighting with Violet and Rhiannon for top grades in other classes. But it had been nearly five months, and you still didn’t have a signet.

Everyone else did. Sawyer could bend metal and Ridoc could wield ice and Rhiannon could make things disappear and reappear at will. And you had nothing. The power from the bond would make your skin itch sometimes with its intensity, and still nothing.

“It’s fine, Baby. I don’t have mine either,” Violet said with a lightness you did not feel, one day when it was particularly weighing on you. The two of you had shared a look that said everything it needed to.

You were pretty sure the excess magic was triggering the dry patches on your skin. Bodhi had taken to getting you more tins of the balm much more frequently. You had offered to fetch it yourself, asking him to put you in contact with the healer that was making it, but he’d waved you off with some sort of excuse, and kept showing up at your door whenever the tin was low to give you a new one and walk you to class. You’d written the healer—Ané, he’d told you—a thank you note anyway and given it to him to deliver.

It was six months now after Threshing. And you still had no signet to account for, not matter how open the bond was, or how much Shocair channelled into it.

“It will develop in time,” she had said, one day when you’d asked, more full of anxiety than anything. “I know you.”

So you waited. You were sitting in the flight field, leaning up against Shocair’s neck as she dozed. You had a book open in front of you, something you’d found in the archives to study up on signets—since it didn’t seem like yours was coming anytime soon. You flipped the page, the sun smoothing your skin and warming you from the inside out as you lounged.

A rustle through the trees drew your attention, and there he was.

Bodhi stands a few feet away from you, and Shocair stirs, blinking open a golden eye before shutting it again.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi,” you say, and like clockwork:

“Hi.”

“Are you coming out for a flight?” you ask, shutting the book in your lap.

“Nah,” Bodhi says, moving closer to you. “Cuir was around here, but I don’t think she’s in the mood. So, I’m just… taking a walk.”

You nod, a smile tugging at your lips. “I see.”

“What are you reading?”

“A Study on the Magic of a Bond,” you say. “Reading up on signets.”

“Still nothing?” he asks. He sits down in the grass across from you, stretching out his legs, and for a moment, you’re mesmerized by the way the sun reflects the dark strands of his hair, the dark bronze of his skin. He looks like he’s glowing.

He’s beautiful.

“No,” you say after finding your tongue. “No, nothing yet.”

“Has she started channeling?” he asks, glancing to the sleeping dragon behind you.

“Yes.” Your gaze drops.

“It’s okay,” Bodhi says. “It can take a while sometimes.”

“I would just rather not burn up from it if it doesn’t.” You laugh, but it’s a humorless thing.

“You won’t.” His sincerity strikes you straight in the chest, with the surety of it.

You blink. “How long did it take yours?”

“A couple months.” He picks at the grass. “I think it took me a while to figure it out.”

“How so?”

“I had to wait until someone used their signet on me.” He grins, and you get that funny feeling in your chest again. It makes you suck in a breath. “Xaden, actually. He had sent some shadows around me as a joke, and we were all a little surprised when they burned up, basically. Thought light was my signet for a while. Sunlight, or something, but then a fire wielded had thrown something at me, and the flame just kinda sputtered, and even then, it took a few more tries for me to figure it out.”

You nodded slowly. That made sense, countering signets would require a trigger. “Do you have strong shields?”

Bodhi cocks his head. “Yeah, I guess. Why?”

You shrug. “I feel like it would come with the territory. Being able to counter any sort of cognitive signet.”

He seems to sit on that for a second. “I don’t think I’ve actually ever tried that. Never needed to, I guess. Or, If I have, I didn't realize I was doing it.”

You hum, and your mind whirls.

“I’ve seen you fly, though,” Bodhi says, surprising you. “You’re amazing up there.”

“You’ve seen me fly?” you repeat, a furrow in your head.

He folds his lips, suppressing a grin, and you’re once again hit with the urge to press your thumbs to them until he smiles again, until he turns those pretty brown eyes on you again. “Yeah. It’s hard not to look. You’re incredible.”

A giggle twists out of you. “Thank you. It’s… fun.”

“Yeah. You enjoy it in a way I’ve never seen before, though.” He’s grinning in earnest again, that invisible string tugging one side of his mouth higher than the other, but his gaze is elsewhere, and you take it as an opportunity to surveil him from head to toe, from his dark curls to the lean muscle to his flight leathers. His very tight flight leathers. Gods above, this guy’s thighs. “You look more comfortable on the back of a dragon, flying at a hundred miles an hour than you do with two feet on the ground.”

You laugh, and his gaze snaps to you. Something in it softens. “I’m serious,” he says. “I’ve never seen it before.”

“It’s nice,” you say. “It reminds me of home. It’s like I can understand how a bird feels now.”

You really hoped Shocair wasn’t privy to that comparison.

“Do you wanna go get dinner?” Bodhi asks, standing, and before you can even answer, he’s extending a hand.

You aren’t wearing your gloves, and you hesitate for a moment before taking his hand anyway. You stand and quickly take yours from his grip, swallowing hard.

“Sorry.” You shake your head.

“For what?” he asks in earnest, and when you meet his eye, you’re suddenly, brutally aware of how close you’re standing.

“I’m not wearing my gloves. I know my hands aren’t very soft.” You laugh it off, but it comes out strained. A mimicry of what it should have been.

A furrow suppresses his dark brows. “Did I hurt—”

“No!” you say quickly. “I just—the skin is scratchy—”

You cut yourself off when he takes your hand in his, cupping the back and facing your palm up. He runs a knuckle along the cracking skin, as if he could smooth it out, and your breath catches in your throat.

“Do you have the balm?” he asks, and it’s quiet. Like he didn’t want to disturb the space between you.

“Yeah.” You use your other hand to pull the small tin out of the pocket of your leathers, and he uncaps it, dipping a finger in and cradling your hand again as he rubs it over the conjunction of your finger and your palm, right where it was beginning to split. He massages it in, and the relief is nearly instantaneous, surpassing the slight sting of the cold. He repeats with your other hand, until he hands the balm back to you. You tuck it away back into your pocket, and finally, finally look up at him.

He’s already looking at you, and being under his scrutiny like this, all close and personal as you’d imagined a million times, sends a shiver down your spine.

“Thank you,” you say, and it’s more of a breath on the breeze floating between you than anything else.

He nods, but his gaze had drifted down, and now he’s looking at your lips. You swallow, he tracks the motion, and you hope he can’t hear how your heart is beating out of your chest.

“Are you finally going to kiss me?” you ask, unsure where you found the courage.

“Please,” he breathes. “Baby, can I?”

Your name is a plea on his lips, but it doesn’t sound like you name—it sounds like the term of endearment. An honorific. You barely even nod before he’s leaning in. His lips hover over yours, and you can feel his breath fanning your face as you tilt—

Shocair chuffs behind you, and you jump apart.

You’re shaking, and you don’t know if it’s in adrenaline or anticipation as his gaze finds yours, and that lopsided grin is tugging at his lips again.

“Dinner?” he asks, and he extends you his arm.

“Yeah, yeah!” You’re a little too eager to take it. And he leads you back to the school.

“That was on purpose,” you send to Shocair.

“Of course, it was,” she says into your mind. “Make him work for it.”

“I thought you liked him.”

“I do.” She sounds snide in your mind. “But he better be worthy of you.”

You send her an eye roll.

“You’re already falling for him. I can’t catch you if you do,” she says, and you nearly scoff aloud.

“I am not falling for him.”

“Sure.” Good gods, are dragons always this sarcastic?

[holllandtrash]

6 to 1 | lando norris (part 9)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc reader part 9 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

attention was a funny thing. for so long, you were under the impression that you had lando's. with the way he treated you, the way he worked up your driver ranking, the way he made his intentions clear. but now you had to fight for it and lets just say you've never been afraid of getting your hands a little dirty

word count: 4k tags: this is soft and then its not is all i have to say, also alcohol consumption i guess

The universe was never on your side.

Lando stayed with you at your place for only a little while before he had to return to his flat. Just because he had a bit of time off between races, didn’t mean he could stop working. He had Quadrant obligations, training, meetings, he even had to make a quick trip back to the UK on Thursday as he was needed at the McLaren Technology Centre.

It was no fault of his own, but he had no time for you. You genuinely didn’t think you would see him until the weekend, and even then you had your own commitments and still hadn’t decided if you wanted Lando to accompany you to dinner. 

Of course you wanted him there, but you still hadn’t spoken to Charles. You knew if you showed up to your mother’s place with Lando at your side, a heated conversation would undoubtedly commence.

You wanted Lando’s opinion. You weren’t even sure if he would want to come to dinner. The plan was to sit down and talk to him about it, but you hadn’t had a chance to all week.

Now it was Friday and as far as you were aware, Lando was supposed to be coming home sometime today. You expected he would at least give you a call when he was in the car from Nice. 

You didn’t expect to return from your jog in the afternoon and see Lando in your kitchen helping himself to the groceries you purchased yesterday. He turned over his shoulder when he heard the door open, cheeks full with whatever sandwich he had just made for himself.

He looked good. The sleeves of his t-shirt tightened around his biceps. His curls weren’t as prominent, he must have gotten a bit of a trim in the UK, but you still wanted to run your fingers through his hair. The summer sun was doing wonders for his skin, he probably had a darker tan than you did and god he was literally glowing. 

He approached you slowly, gaze raking over every inch of your body. Monaco was hot, you had to dress appropriately for your run. And you doubted Lando was complaining about the sports bra and matching athletic tights you had on. 

“I regret telling you my key code,” you told him. Lando only stifled his laughter in response as he finished chewing. He held out the end of his sandwich to you, offering you a bite. And you were starving after that run, so you happily obliged. 

“You don’t have mustard in your fridge,” he pointed out.

You held your mouth in front of your hand as you swallowed, “I don’t like mustard.”

“But I do,” he took another bite.

“Well next time I go grocery shopping I’ll be sure to ask for your list, yeah? Any dietary restrictions I should know about? Is the almond milk in my fridge not up to your standards?” You raised your eyebrows, but it was clear your questions were full of sarcasm and Lando didn’t have anything else to add as he slowly finished chewing.

You patted his chest and started to pivot, planning on taking a shower and changing but Lando grabbed hold of your hand and pulled you back towards him. He kissed you, not letting your teasing stop him from greeting you the way he wanted to.

“Hi,” he said quietly as he pulled away just enough so his lips were still hovering over yours.

“Hi,” you repeated, hating how quick he was able to make you smile. There was no point in trying to hide it either, it would only make your cheeks hurt more. “Is it bad that I’ve missed you?”

“I don’t think so because I’ve missed you too,” he kissed you again. 

He had just been busy. He hadn’t been able to make the time to see you or take you out, and you couldn’t blame him for that. Sure it was a little frustrating knowing he was in Monte Carlo for most of this week and you couldn’t do anything about it, but at least he was with you now. 

You may have never been in a relationship before, but you knew exactly what this was. It was the honeymoon phase. You wanted to spend as much time with him as humanly possible and him having a job that kept him occupied and travelling was a little bit of an inconvenience for you. 

Lando offered to make you some lunch while you got ready for the rest of the day and you had to admit, it was kind of nice having someone around who wanted to take care of you. 

When you finished your shower and stepped into the hall, Lando was in the kitchen and singing quietly to himself whatever song was playing from his phone. You watched for a second as he opened up a few cupboards until he found the plates he was searching for.

After you had changed and and rang a towel through your hair, you joined Lando in the living room. There was a plate on the coffee table with a sandwich and a variety of fruit on it and you wanted to thank him, but he was on a phone call.

So even though he was here with you, he wasn’t actually present.

Regardless, you weren’t going to let it bother you. You tuned him out for the most part, responding to a couple friends you had been neglecting to text back. It wasn’t until he somewhat mentioned you in his conversation that your interest piqued.

“...at my girl's place,” but you looked at each other at the exact same time, wearing very similar expressions of uncertainty. Lando even sounded unsure as he said it, like he wasn’t confident that was the right thing to call you.

Your confusion turned to amusement as whoever Lando was talking to presumably asked about you and he struggled to explain what you were to him exactly. 

“Yeah she’s-” Lando paused, feeling the weight of your stare. “It’s uh, it’s pretty new.”

That wasn’t technically wrong. 

“No, she’s cool, you’ll like her,” Lando assured them. Now you were really wondering who he was talking to. Lando dropped his hand to your leg. “But I gotta go, I’ll talk to you in a bit, yeah?”

You waited until he put the phone down to question him, the smirk on your face was making your jaw hurt and he preemptively rolled his eyes in anticipation for whatever you were going to say.

“Your girl?” You exclaimed, reaching forward to playfully press your hand against his cheek. “Am I your girl, Lando Norris?”

Lando opened his mouth and then shut it again, settling on a heavy exhale as he took your hand in his. He pressed a kiss to the back of your hand and gave you the sweetest look he could muster.

“That’s a trick question so I’m not going to answer it.”

You snorted, “Please elaborate.”

He sighed again, “If I say, yes, you’re my girl, you’ll be upset because I haven’t actually asked you to my girlfriend yet, which-” he held up a finger, “-is a bit of a childish term, might I add. We’re not twelve, Y/N.”

You held up a hand in defence, feeling a little attacked, “I didn’t say anything.”

He continued, “But if I say no, then you’ll still be upset because you know that you are in fact my girl.”

You hummed in response. You could understand how he saw it as a trick question, even if you hadn’t intended it as such. Maybe he was smarter than you gave him credit for.

“It’s a lose-lose,” he added. “For me, at least.”

“There’s a simple solution.”

“Which is?”

Your eyebrows raised, surprised you even had to spell it out. “Ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“Will you-”

“No!” You interjected. Lando flinched, having not expected you to raise your voice all of a sudden. But this is what he was talking about, this was the lose-lose scenario he now found himself in. 

“I don’t know what you want from me,” he admitted, a shy smile teased his lips. It was cute. He was cute. But he should have known better.

“Lando, I’ve never had a boyfriend before,” you reminded him quietly. There was nothing embarrassing about that statement, but what you were asking for was, in a sense, childish. “I don’t care that we’re adults, I want to be asked out properly. A whole grand gesture.” You waved your hand in front of your face for emphasis, “Sweep me off my feet or something, I don’t know. Don’t just ask me out, put a little effort into it.”

Lando’s grip slid up your arm to be able to pull you onto his lap. Your legs straddled either side of him as his fingers found your waist. He leaned his head against the back of the couch as he looked up at you, the same timid smile on his lips.

He nodded, “Okay, effort. I can do that.”

“Nothing embarrassing.”

“Aren’t grand gestures usually embarrassing?” He retorted.

“I have faith you’ll figure something out that saves us both from humiliation.”

You leaned down to kiss him and it had finally sunk in that you could do this without any cause for concern now. Granted, you still had to be cautious out in public and there was still the looming issue of your brother, but right now, in the comfort of your own flat, you could kiss him and not have to worry about any repercussions. 

The only thing you had to worry about was his phone going off again. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You groaned, dropping your head to his shoulder as he reached for his phone that you thought he had finally put away for the day. Lando rubbed your back as he checked out who had texted him. 

It was his manager, someone he couldn’t just ignore.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing your cheek. You both looked at the message and you grew even more annoyed when you saw he was asking for Lando to meet him at his place. 

“Selfishly, can you just stay here?” You asked, hoping that batting your eyelashes would do the trick.

“I want to, you know I do,” Lando muttered, sending a quick response to his manager telling him he’ll head over. He then put his phone down and pulled your face towards his. He really did seem disappointed that he had to leave again. His thumb grazed over your cheek, “Let’s go out tonight, yeah?”

You hummed, “What did you have in mind?”

You could see the gears grinding in his head. “There’s a handful of drivers in Monaco right now. A few of them had mentioned going to Sinistre. Could be fun?”

You had been to Sinistre a handful of times. It was definitely one of the places to be in Monaco on a Friday night. It was exclusive too, it wasn’t easy for just anyone to wander in. Plus it would be a good opportunity to be out in public with Lando without it too obviously being a date. 

If you could keep his attention, that was. 

Lando was still responding to texts as he got up to leave. He slid his phone into his pocket as he kissed you goodbye, squeezing your hand too, a gesture you were starting to get very used to from him. 

“I’ll see you in a bit,” he told you. “And then I promise, this weekend I’m all yours.”

You still hadn’t brought up the idea of inviting him to dinner. And now was clearly not the time to as he was on his way out the door. So you just nodded and kissed him once more. You didn’t want to worry about tomorrow night’s dinner just yet, you just wanted to focus on tonight.

ynleclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 30,127 others

ynleclerc amour sans fin

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danielricciardo we get it, you're french

ynleclerc im monégasque you kiwi shit danielricciardo im austrailain ynleclerc ohhh hurts when someone gets your nationality wrong huh?

carlossainz55 bella

ynleclerc ❤️

landonorris can you even walk in those

ynleclerc no but im taller than you in them so

paddockswags so all the boys on the grid love her huh

Lando grabbed your hand when you exited your flat, keeping you from walking towards the car. Your brows cinched in confusion when you noticed him eyeing the top of your head and then down at your heels.

“You’re not taller than me,” he scoffed. “We’re the same height.”

You tilted your chin up, “No I think I’m taller.”

Lando rolled his eyes, reaching for the handle of the car door. You weren’t wearing the blazer anymore, you had stolen that from one of his suitcases he had left at your place for the sole purpose of the photo. When you posted it, he was still out, but he made sure to text you, telling you that you could wear his clothes any day.

When he climbed into the backseat as well, you noticed he still had Instagram open and was looking at your photo, more specifically, the comments.

“I think he has your notifications on.”

You pushed your hair over your shoulder and leaned towards him, trying to see what had caught his attention, “Who?”

“Carlos.”

You snickered, “Why do you think that?”

“He’s always one of the first people to comment on your pictures,” Lando’s eyes met yours and you wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to worry about Carlos. That Carlos and you were only ever friends and that Instagram notifications on your phone screen didn’t mean anything.

You would have, had his phone not started ringing. 

You inhaled a sharp breath and Lando laughed at your reaction to his phone pulling his attention away once again. 

“I’m about to throw that thing out the window.”

Lando let it go to voicemail. He gently placed his hand on the side of your face and pulled your lips to his. 

“It’s officially my weekend now, I promise.”

“If I hear your phone ring one more time-”

Lando chuckled again, “You won’t, don’t worry. I’m all yours.”

And you believed him because his hand stayed on your leg for the duration of the car ride from your flat to the club. You believed him because he tried to shelter you from nearby paparazzi and fans that were waiting outside of Sinistre, hoping to catch a shot or two of any drivers. You believed him because he didn’t let go of your hand once you stepped inside.

But because he was holding onto your hand, he was able to pull you in the direction of his teammate who was standing near the bartop, chatting away with some friends. As far as you were aware, Oscar didn’t even live in Monaco so you had no idea what he was doing here.

Oscar eyed the way your hands connected between your bodies, a smile growing on his face.

“Why hello lovebirds,” Oscar teased. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

And then Lando became lost in a conversation with Oscar. As if he hadn’t just promised you that he was all yours. 

To be fair, Lando was a social guy. He could find any opportunity to chat with literally anyone and it was a trait of his you admired. 

But you were selfish tonight. You didn’t want to share him. You had to share him all week, you had barely seen him all week. 

You scanned the club, wondering if there was anyone else here that Lando might want to talk to after Oscar and you wanted to scream when your eyes landed on Carlos sitting at a nearby bench, talking to his own friends.

There was no way Lando was going to pass up an opportunity to chat with one of his best mates.

You glanced at him and then back at Carlos, and then an idea came to mind. 

“I’ll be right back,” you muttered, unsure if Lando even heard you as your hand slipped from his. 

You made your way across the club, not oblivious to the way a few heads turned as you balanced yourself in those heels. But you didn’t want the attention of strangers, you only wanted Lando’s attention.

You approached the Spanish driver, “Carlos, I need you to do me a favour.”

He turned his head and glanced up at you from where he sat on the cushioned bench, “Anything, hermosa. What did you need?”

You turned over your shoulder to make sure Lando was still chatting away to Oscar by the bar.

Lando didn’t explicitly say it, but you knew your driver ranking was still heavy on his mind. And with the lack of attention you had been getting, you felt as though it was time to challenge Lando at his own game. 

“I need you to not leave my side.”

Carlos raised his eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

He was already a few drinks in. Which might honestly make it easier. Everyone was flirty when they were drunk.

“I don’t know, just-” you looked over your shoulder again, Lando glanced your way and smiled before falling back into his conversation  “-pretend you’re into me. Pretend I’m someone you want to take home. Pretend Charles wouldn’t kill you if you tried to hit on me.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently, “Just have fun with it and make sure Lando sees.”

“Why?” Carlos asked. “Aren’t you here with him?”

“Yeah but he’s had it too easy recently,” you said through a faint breath of laughter. “Come on, Carlos, help me out here.”

And then it clicked for him. It was like you could see all the gears shifting into place and he hummed in response. “I get it. This is about your driver ranking, isn’t it?”

“That’s exactly it,” a devious grin spread across your face from cheek to cheek. You made sure you had Carlos’ full attention as you pressed both of your palms on either side of his face. “So unless you want him to beat you, don’t leave my side.”

Carlos didn’t need any more of a reason to grab your hand and pull you sideways onto his lap, a squeal passing through your lips as you didn’t think he would act so suddenly. You snaked your arm around his shoulders as his fingers instantly found a home on your leg, spread out across your thigh. 

Your faces were inches apart, you could smell the tequila shots he had undoubtedly taken as soon as he got here. The corner of his lip was tugged upwards as his eyes landed on the curve of your smile before darting back up to meet your gaze. The strobing pink and blue lights all around you only highlighted the glossed over expression he wore. Carlos wasn’t drunk yet, but he was certainly on his way there. 

You noticed how his eyes dropped once more and you called him out on it, “I’m not kissing you again.”

“So that was a one time thing?” He asked. “And in front of your brother? You really did me dirty there.”

“I needed to prove a point.”

“Which was what exactly? That you leave half the drivers on the grid speechless?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed together as Carlos said almost the exact same thing Lando said earlier in the week. You never did get a chance to ask Lando about what he meant by that. 

Carlos saw you about to turn your head in the direction of the Brit but he cupped your jaw with his hand and kept you from looking anywhere else. His thumb traced over your lower lip, it was brief and so light you couldn’t tell if it was on purpose or not.

“He’s looking,” Carlos told you. 

You had to admire the move, making sure your attention was on him and solely him. You could only imagine Lando’s reaction to seeing Carlos’ hand against your cheek. 

He said something else but his voice was nearly drowned out by the music playing through the speakers that you had no choice but to lean in so his lips were right next to your ear. Again, you couldn’t tell if Carlos’ did that with intent or not, lowering his voice so you’d have to close the gap even further. 

“Are you mad at him?” Carlos repeated himself.

“I don’t think mad’s the right word,” you said, pulling back slightly. Carlos kept the placement of his hand on your face, the tips of his fingers lost in the strands of your hair. “Why do you ask?”

“Because I don’t think messing with Lando’s driver ranking plan is a valid enough reason to be asking for my help like this,” He pointed out. You were surprised that he was more well-read now a few shots in than he was on any given day. “Annoyed?”

You nodded. “He hasn’t been paying me any attention,” you rolled your eyes when you realised how needy you sounded. Carlos even chuckled at your reasoning. “So I just want to flip the cards. I want him to work for my attention.”

“Well I think it’s working,” Carlos got a devious glint in his eye. In your peripheral vision you could make out the McLaren driver slowly making his way towards you. Carlos cleared his throat when Lando was close enough and looked up at him with a blameless grin. You kept your eyes on Carlos for a few extra seconds, a little paranoid to see Lando’s reaction.

“What the hell is going on?” Lando asked, slight humour in his tone. 

But when you finally looked at him, you could see the light heartedness didn’t extend past the question. His jaw was clenched, his stare was narrowed directly on you. You wanted to reach forward and smooth out the creases in his forehead, but you stayed seated on Carlos’ lap.

“Just about to get a drink, ‘scuse us mate.” Carlos answered. You slid off his lap but his hand connected with yours as he led you away from Lando and towards the bar. 

Lando followed, obviously, walking at your other side, “Okay, honestly, what is going on?”

You stuck out your lower lip, “Oh, I’m sorry Lando, did you forget that he’s still above you on my driver ranking?”

It was slowly starting to sink in for him now what you were doing. You leaned against the bar, Carlos’ hand still on your lower back and you purposely leaned into his side as you looked at Lando on your other side. Your pout turning into a machiavellian smirk only had Lando shuffling closer to you, trying to figure out what the driving factor was behind you suddenly clinging to Carlos.

Carlos handed you a drink and you glanced down at it, seeing the margarita he had just ordered for you. You slid your index finger over the salt that rimmed the glass to collect some on the pad of your finger. Then you locked eyes with Lando as your tongue poked through your lips to lick the salt off, tasting that hint of lime in there as well. Lando watched as you purposely tugged your lower lip down slowly before bringing your face daringly close to his. Your gaze dropped to his throat as he swallowed in anticipation, waiting for what you were going to do and hating that Carlos’ hand was still on you.

Your eyes met his again. When you took a breath it hit Lando’s face and he would have given anything to taste that lime and salt combination that was still present on your tongue. 

But you were on a mission. He had to put the effort in tonight.

“Do you want to know why Carlos is higher than you, Lando?” You asked, sounding sweet with intention.

It was an act. You wanted to lure Lando closer with your voice, and it worked. He nodded, probably not even comprehending the question at its fullest. 

“I don’t have to work for his attention,” you answered, retreating closer to Carlos once again. You watched as Lando’s features hardened when Carlos’ hand slipped further around your waist. Your smirk shifted into a smile, “But now you have to work for mine.”

part 10 here | masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @noescapricho-essentimiento @xqueenslytherinx if i missed someone im so sorry

[ddarker-dreams]

Nexus III.

Yandere Blade x F Reader.

Warnings: Explicit not SFW, mommy issues galore, some psychological horror elements, yandere themes, and unhealthy relationships. Word count: 15.6k.

Nexus index.

When you dream of your mother, it’s in a lotus field.

Everyone’s psyche manifests itself in a distinct way, echoes the teachings she left behind. This is yours. 

The bioluminescent petals cower inward as if hiding a terrible secret. Some bloom along the hazy ground, others swing in the air, suspended by strings hung from a glass dome overhead. 

In this dream, you cannot speak, though you have much to say. 

Gentle as you may be, each step you take to close the gap between you and her demands a sacrifice. The flower’s vibrancy drains like color from a dying man’s face. From the stem upward, it decays. To try and save it is to kill it faster. Brittle fragments crumble into ashen piles that scratch at your bare feet. 

Her back remains facing you. 

You have no way of earning her attention. She is blind to the frantic waving of your arms, deaf to the eroding necropolis you leave in your wake. 

You’re certain you’ll never reach her. Still, you try, only to fail all the same. 

With each passing dream, a crack along your glass dome spreads. It started too small to see and is now too large to fix. Is it best to let it shatter? Could it be the silent warden that cordons you off from a universe you know yet have never experienced? 

Or is it the final bastion that shields you? 

A devastating attack on the Thelx’s main guide causes cataphoric damage to the quadrant’s sixth residential district. The aftershocks resulted in the collapse of multiple buildings, resulting in injuries for hundreds and a rising death toll that currently stands at 34. Local residents have filed complaints for years now, listing concerns that the most recent building inspections have not resulted in appropriate measures taking place. 

“We all knew something bad was bound to happen,” said one woman who happened to be visiting family in Ade during the incident. “We knew, but where else are we supposed to go? Our choices were to stay put and take our chances or try surviving in Arc. No one wanted that. But now…. seeing this… maybe Arc would’ve been better.”

An investigation into the matter is being spearheaded by Chrysus, Ade’s Exalted Regent. 

We reached out to Chrysus’ team for a statement and have yet to receive a response. 

Rumors are swirling online that the attack was targeted at Thelx’s Exalted Arbiter, [First] Phaeales, the single daughter of the deceased Ania Phaeales. A spokesperson for Thelx’s fledgling matriarch has confirmed her safety, though she received minor injuries. Thelx is expected to endure further economic hardship due to the IPC’s recent travel ban. The LOTUS-EATER and similar establishments constitute up to 43% of Thelx’s total gross domestic product—

“It’s rude to read when you have a guest over,” Nona chides. 

“Sorry.” 

You turn your phone off and place it beside the other ornaments atop your vanity. Makeup, jewelry, hair ornaments, and one of the only gifts your mother ever gave; a lotus made of iridescent crystals. It’s sat untouched for years and you assume it will continue to do so. 

Nona, who has helped herself to lying on your bed, rolls over onto her stomach. Both her cheeks squish together as she holds her head up by tiny fists, her elbows digging into your comforter for support. She draws her lips into a thin line. There’s a hollowness to her gaze that rivals the mask she wore when you first met. 

“Why do you care so much?” 

Her inquiry leaves you temporarily at a loss for words. “... What?” 

“About people you haven’t met,” she clarifies. “Whose names you don’t even know. To them, you’re nothing but a glorified mascot to blame when things go bad and praise when things go right.” 

Your mouth is too dry for you to swallow. “Each life in Thelx has been entrusted to me.” 

“So? Did everyone come up to you one by one and ask for your stewardship?” 

“Of course not, don’t be unreasonable.” 

“I’m the one being unreasonable?” Nona barks a caustic laugh. “Have you seen what these people have been saying? ‘Let’s pack up the family and move to Arc!’, as if any of them could survive there for more than the instant their foot crosses over the divide. It’s hilarious! The funniest joke I’ve heard in some time.” 

Your eyes narrow. “That’s enough. The community is understandably hurt. Frightened. When tragedies happen, we each have our ways of making sense of things.” 

She pushes herself up and sits crisscross. “I’m just saying I’d like to see them try. Me… I would’ve given anything to have been born here. An organ, a limb, whatever. At least I’d be hobbling around where there’s light and warmth.” 

“Nona…” 

“They don’t know. They have no idea,” Nona trembles. “People make Arc out to be something it isn’t. ‘Look at how free they are, they can live as they please, answering to no one but themselves!’ Funnily enough, the IPC said the same thing when they built Perianth, didn’t they? Got the whole universe feeling warm and fuzzy. The poor, the wretched, the damned; they’re hideous up close, so let’s tuck them far away from the light. Then we don’t have to see them.”

She hangs her head. “Experiencing rejection from the rejected… that’s what they can look forward to in Arc. Anything else is a pipe dream.” 

You get up from your chair and sit down next to her on the bed. Finding a blanket, you toss it over your shoulder, extra prudent to avoid any accidental contact. Glassy amber eyes blink slowly as you pat the cushioned spot. She starts leaning in, only to pause a few inches shy of her intended target. You don’t need to be in her head to guess what reel she’s flicking through. When the feature film’s end credits roll, she rests her head on your shoulder. 

“Lear’s worried about you, y’know.” 

“I know.” 

“Loopy would be too, if it were sentient.” 

“It’s possible.” 

“...” 

She whispers your name, hesitant, as if she were a child preparing to ask their parents for a gift they know they can’t have.

“If I could, I’d wish that all the stars in the universe would burn so bright, so hot, that each person would melt away like ice until only us three remain. The poor, wretched, and damned. Our happiness would be unrivaled if there were no one else to compare ourselves to. You don’t know misery if no one ever tells you you’re miserable.” 

Or maybe you invent new miseries for yourself, you think. Then, with no one to compare yourself to… would you not be the most miserable person in the universe? 

You could voice your musings but to verbalize them now feels wrong. Instead, you choose to let her live the wish that will never come true. In this pocket dimension, beyond the four walls of your room, nothing exists. No Thelx, Perianth II, Stellaron Hunter or IPC. There are only two jagged shards who have abandoned being whole again. You might not click together like puzzle pieces, perfectly falling into place to form a seamless image, but you can look at the pane you broke free from and decide for yourself if the result was worth it. 

Choosing between two evils is better than being stuck with one. 

“Nona,” you break the silence. If there’s anything you’ve been doing too much of lately, it’s dwelling on factors beyond your control. 

“Hm?” 

“That flower bouquet,” you nod toward the magenta-colored roses on your vanity, which she brought in earlier. “There was a message attached to it, wasn’t there?” 

She stiffens. 

“... Possibly.” 

You knew a ‘gift’ from Miss 10.899 billion wouldn’t come without some poisonous flourish. The roses don’t have thorns, so the sharpness must lay elsewhere. 

“What did it say?” 

“You really want to know?” 

“I’m asking, aren’t I?” 

She deflates like a balloon pricked by a needle, then mumbles, “The tag said ‘Get well soon.’”

Ah, you think. If I could have anyone melt away… she’d certainly be high on the list.

You haven’t spoken one word to Blade since he carried your unconscious body back to the LOTUS-EATER. 

Regardless, he’s still around. He isn’t some option in your settings you can turn off with a single button press. He hasn’t initiated contact while you healed from your injuries, which consisted of a sprained ankle, two broken ribs, and minor abrasions peppered throughout. Your high position ensured you’d receive the best medical care Eris has to offer. 

Fourteen total cycles have passed since the Thelx nectar guide bombing. 

Fourteen dreary cycles filled with nothing but eating bland food, taking bitter medication, and dreaming the same gloomy dream. 

During this festive stretch, Nona has been your primary visitor. Lear restricted himself to electronic communication, fearing the emotional reaction he’d experience from seeing you in this state might harm you. They’ve both taken to distracting you in their own fashion. Nona shows you pictures, such as the googly eyes she put on Loopy, or discusses the strangest psyches she’s seen from clients. One client’s mind manifested itself as a drumstick. 

“Not even a pair, just one,” she giggled. “Hey, don’t start lecturing me about our privacy policy. I see you fighting back a smile. That absolves me from breaking my NDA.” 

Then there’s Lear who laser focuses on your health. At least 80% of his texts follow the ‘Have you x’ format. Stretched, taken medicine, slept, eaten; you half expect him to start asking if you’ve breathed enough. 

The timer you’ve set for your tea goes off. 

You pull the teabag out, dispose of it, and then stir the ruby-colored concoction. Golden flecks swirl in a violent vortex. Content, you throw on a diaphanous, cape-like outer garment over your loungewear. The fabric is deceptively delicate to the eye yet has been synthesized to preserve heat. 

The components that open your bedroom door at your behest emit a low hum. The lack of use must’ve spoiled them. This is the first time you’ve emerged from your hibernation. The light system in your office whirs to life upon your return. You wave off the visual assault. Your eyes have become so accustomed to the dark that you’ll need to build your light tolerance back up. 

After inputting the proper passcode, you pass through to the balcony. 

And then immediately regret it when Blade’s back is the first thing that greets you. 

He’s in a meditative stance. The gales of loud emotion that normally engulf him have quieted down to a hush. From this position, you can see how his long ebony strands cascade down his back, the tips taken on a reddish hue. A pearlescent sheen shimmers along the outline of his body, the moon’s personal gift. When one thinks of a stereotypical warrior, certain biases culminate in the rough image of some brute, like a brigand from a child’s fairytale. 

However, seeing him like this, exuding poise and temperance, you think he fits the role of prince. 

You take a step back. 

“You can stay,” his voice slashes through your entangled thoughts, “I’ll go inside.” 

A beast slithers in the calm waters as soon as he stops his meditation. It isn’t voracious or on the hunt. No, you get the distinct feeling it finds pleasure in lurking just below the surface, not creating so much as a ripple to deter its prey. Waiting and waiting. By the time some poor soul enters and realizes they aren’t alone, it’s too late. Multiple rows of pointed teeth have already pierced their flesh. 

You block his path with your body, an act that’s equally confounding to him as it is to you. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” you say. Your boldness fizzles out beneath the weight of his stare. “If… that’s alright.” 

He considers you briefly. You expect him to walk away without sparing you another glance, but it must be his turn to foster confusion. He turns around and sits on the chair to the left, as he did when you first became acquainted. After what feels like a delay in your neurons providing information to your brain, you sit beside him. It occurs to you that your little balcony is in excellent shape even though you haven’t been able to maintain it. 

You look at him from the corner of your eye. 

Has he been keeping this area clean? 

Oddly enough, it’s Blade who prompts further conversation. “How are your injuries?” 

“My ankle’s fully recovered and my ribs only hurt if I move too much. I’ve got nothing to complain about.” 

You take a sip of your concoction. A sweet, herbal flavor dances on your tongue with a hint of spice. These tea leaves are one of the few that can grow on Eris in an artificial environment. You added a spoonful of the Nectary’s tonic to complement the taste. It’s a drink popularly referred to as ambrosia. 

“How about you? Have you healed— oh, um.” You raise your hand to cover your traitorous mouth. It can prevent more words from coming out, but it can’t take back what’s already been said. 

“I have, unfortunately.” 

“‘Unfortunately?’” You repeat back, though the sound is muffled. You wince. So much for putting an end to your bluntness. 

“You’re acting reserved,” he dryly notes. “Is this the same woman who takes every chance to tell me off?” 

“Hey, I don’t take every chance to—” You throw your head back in exasperation upon seeing the beginning of a self-satisfied smirk. “... I shouldn’t… have behaved as… candidly as I did. It’s unprofessional.” 

“‘That part,’ huh,” Blade mutters. “You don’t have to section off parts of yourself, you choose to.” 

The tea’s aftertaste turns bitter. 

To be whole is a privilege Blade doesn’t have, you think. If he allowed that, then… would he really be ‘Blade’ anymore? 

You stare down at the distorted reflection the tea provides, ripples distorting your likeness before you can confirm his claim. Your hands must be trembling. 

“I advised against it for a reason. My mind is unsightly.” 

“It isn’t that!” you turn your head toward him, catching how he furrows his eyebrows at your outburst of emotion, “What I did… it wasn’t right. I took advantage of your vulnerable state and tried to manipulate you. Control you. A violation like that… it’s unforgivable.”

Anytime a situation threatens to spiral beyond your control, you resort to what you supposedly swore off. 

I’ll only do it this once, the circumstances call for it, you’d tell yourself. No more after that. I mean this time, I really do. It won’t happen again.

Until it does.

Alister with his weapon. Blade after he saved your life. Lear when the loneliness felt excruciating.

Your chest feels like it’s hosting a colony of crawling maggots ready to burst through your flesh. It hurts, this slimy, despicable filth that you scrub raw only to dirty again. Not trusting yourself with the fragile teacup, you set it down. 

“So that’s what you consider a sin,” Blade says. “You oppose incarceration and yet you're a prisoner to your own guilt.” 

“That’s different.” 

“Even so, one is far worse than the other. I should know; I’ve experienced both. If I could choose between a physical prison or my mind, I’d pick the former.” 

You recall the gargantuan structure that is Blade’s repressed psyche. The oppressive atmosphere, how it stood alone, far removed from anything resembling hope. 

If it’s of Xianzhou build, it must be none other than the Shackling Prison. 

“The injuries you received when protecting me,” You work through each word slowly, as if testing their validity. “They should’ve killed you. But instead… you ‘defied the natural order’ — death itself.” 

Blade doesn’t move his gaze from the four moons in the sky. 

The Xianzhou Alliance’s intolerance for those who follow the Aeon of Abundance, Yaoshi, is infamous throughout the universe. What the followers consider blessings, they reject as curses. For the Xianzhou, it’s personal. The ink the Aeon has left behind hardly has time to dry before more transgressions are added to the ledger. 

Those who live on Eris, yourself included, most commonly follow the Noct, the Aeon of The Ideal. Noct is thought to be the one who blessed this planet with the Nectary. Without it, the first generation of prisoners left to fend for themselves by the IPC would have perished. Your Aeon is in what the Genius Society calls ‘an indefinite hibernation’, not interacting with the material world yet not fully removed from it either. Some revere their Aeon enough to die for them, others despise them enough to dedicate everything to their destruction; neither side makes sense.

To you, the Aeons feel almost as distant as the stars. 

“Can it really be considered a sin if it’s beyond your control?” 

“It won’t always be,” he replies. “Until then, I can’t allow myself to forget. You must get why.” 

You wish you didn’t. 

A few moments pass. They flow into each other smoothly, lacking acidity. You resume drinking your tea. It’s lukewarm, but you don’t mind. 

“You truly aren’t afraid of me,” you remark. 

“What’s there to be afraid of?” 

The deep bass of his voice temporarily adjusts to allow bemusement. It takes you a moment to realize he isn’t mocking you, it’s more teasing than anything. The reminder does serve you well. Physically, the gap in your strength is insurmountable. He could snuff out your life before you realized your appointment with death had been expedited. 

“Most people are put off by my company in a casual setting. Being around someone who could peer into your mind, past all the pretenses we work so diligently to build… it’s frightening. Unnatural, even.” 

He focuses on the abyssal horizon. It’s as if your Aeon swaddled this planet in a pitch-black blanket with the four moons acting as a nursery mobile. You can reach up to grasp them as much as you’d like, but the cosmic entities will never be yours. It is you who belongs to them. 

“My mind has a will of its own,” Blade tells you. “It’s loud. Something about you quiets it down.” 

You blink. “Really?” 

He stares at you blankly instead of repeating himself. You take it that’s his way of communicating he has no reason to be dishonest. 

“This affliction you’re suffering from… it’s called mara, correct?” 

The instant the word leaves your lips, his demeanor shifts. It’s subtle, the tightening of his muscles and his frown deepening, yet the physical signs aren’t what tip you off. The pervasive air shrouding the beast inside his psyche is twitching. It longs to permanently rid Blade of control and loathes each rejection it’s endured. 

“I think I saw it. From what I’ve heard, I thought it’d be more self-destructive. Yours, though… how do I put it… it’s vicious, but it’s like a muzzle has been forced on it. I assume Kafka had something to do with that?” 

He doesn’t deny your conjecture. 

“Hmph, figures it’d be her handiwork. She can poke around in people’s heads, but her techniques are more effective in the short term. It lacks staying power,” you cross your arms. “I wonder why my presence deters your mara.” 

“It’s never functioned normally. I’ve long abandoned trying to make sense of it.” 

“I can’t accept that,” you huff. “You’ve saved my life twice now. There has to be something useful to be gleaned from this, even if it isn’t a complete cure.” 

The groundwork has been laid out. You were able to scrape together enough to give his psyche form, an act that’s no small feat, since he didn’t go through the typical interview process. Initiating physical contact with him was a risk, but you’ve yet to notice any consequences. 

While considering the best methods, an epiphany sinks its claws into you. 

You bite your lower lip. “I’m— um. Getting ahead of myself. After what happened, I understand if you don’t want me in your head.” 

The terms of atonement crafted by your own hands can’t be sufficient penance. 

“Multiple influences have fought for control of my mind,” he reveals. Your breath catches in your tightening throat. This isn’t a wound you’ve inflicted, it’s a wound you’ve reopened. Mara’s madness, Kafka’s adjustments; how much tampering has he been subjected to? There have been foreign elements inserted and his original self shifted around, if not removed entirely. His psyche is strung together like fraying patchwork. 

You don’t know what to do. Should you apologize again? Leave him be? Form some sort of arrangement where he doesn’t have to interact with you directly? 

These frantic thoughts halt when you examine his profile. 

Blade isn’t stewing in animosity or grief. He’s simply sitting there, living in the present. Swarming torments don’t caw and peck at him. He isn’t smiling, but his facial features express contentment, the way a laborer would after a toiling day. Flowing with the current instead of struggling against the tide. 

“Out of all of them, though,” 

The brilliant luster of his eyes takes you hostage.

“Yours… wasn’t so bad.” 

Unknown 

You’re there, aren’t you?

Unknown 

Don’t be shy and ignore my messages. 

Unlike some people, I’m busy 

Unknown 

I assure you I’m busy with various preparations too.

Unknown 

Never too busy to check in on my favorite Arbiter though. ♡

Unknown 

Did you like the roses? 

I would’ve liked them more if they weren’t from you 

Unknown

💔

Unknown

So, it’d be different if they were from someone else? Hm… I might get jealous if that’s the case.

It wouldn’t make much of a difference, anyway They’ve already wilted

Unknown

That’s a shame

Unknown

I suppose what I find beautiful doesn’t suit Eris’ climate very well

Unknown

I know you’re not going to respond anymore, so I’ll stop pestering you for now

Unknown

Take good care of yourself, little Miss Arbiter ♡

It’s become a tradition for Lear to join your and Nona’s training sessions. She’s in her highest spirits when the three of you are under the same roof, even if you’re all doing different things. Presently, Lear is replacing Loopy’s hardware with an older operating system. The latest update downloaded automatically and fixed the bug that caused your favorite robot’s premier quality. Having a robot named Loopy who no longer loops is inconceivable. 

Since the LOTUS-EATER is closed for the foreseeable future, you accepted Nona’s idea to have her training on the first floor rather than the second. According to her, The Lounge has ‘distracting’ vibes, so you hoped a change in scenery might recenter her. 

However, you’re beginning to seriously question your judgment. 

“Lear, can I please have a drink?” 

“Lear, don’t pay her any mind. She needs to be sober during her training.” 

“Sobriety is a concept invented by the prohibitionists!” 

Lear’s attention darts between you, standing imposingly with your arms crossed, then to Nona, who mimes what she must think to be a sympathetic countenance. 

“Um…” he trails off. Unable to withstand the immovable object and unstoppable force, he retreats to the motherboard he’s been working on. “I’m technically not on the clock, so I shouldn’t handle merchandise that doesn’t belong to me.” 

Nona wads up a piece of paper and throws it at him. 

It misses. 

By a lot.

“Stop pestering Lear and take your assignment seriously,” you frown. Then you realize what paper she used as ammunition. “Hold on… don’t tell me you just crumpled up and threw correspondence from Chrysus.” 

She shrugs. “That discount hound probably didn’t have anything worthwhile to say, anyway.” 

“Is Eris’ future not ‘worthwhile?’” 

“Not if we hop on a spaceship and never look back.” 

Lear sets his tools aside, unfurls the letter, then returns it to you. Nona sticks her tongue out at him and he flips her off.

… Maybe you need a drink.

“Hey, Stellaron Hunter,” Nona waves her arms wildly. “You must have a ship, right? How about it? Got room for three more? It wouldn’t even disrupt the arrangement. You can keep watch over [First] to your heart’s content.” 

The ‘Stellaron Hunter’ in question has stationed himself on a barstool, where he blatantly ignores Nona’s request. He had been standing against a far wall as you’ve learned he’s apt to do, but this made you feel bad. After some needling, he caved and sat down at your behest. It’s been a little over a week since your conversation on the balcony. Your free time since then has been sparse. An injury doesn’t make your work disappear, it just causes it to pile up higher. 

In light of what Chrysus deems a terrorist attack, you are to have a hearing with him and Caicias. Blade staunchly refused any request for you to meet them in person. For once, you agreed with the strict measures. The nectar guide has been repaired, but the mere chance that more people could be injured at another attempt on your life is unacceptable. After some bureaucratic back and forth, it was agreed upon that the risk of a cyberattack would be the lesser of two evils. 

Chrysus insisted on handwritten correspondence delivered through trustworthy sources until the hearing. The message Nona flung consisted of him tiptoeing around every serious query you’ve brought to his attention. Your most burning question concerns the residential district’s building inspections. More specifically, how the dire reports never made their way to you. 

Initially, you thought it may have fallen through the cracks. Your mother’s sudden death two years prior plunged Thelx into chaos. She wasn’t expected to retire for another fifty years. As such, you were woefully underprepared for the mantle forced onto you. She hadn’t even told you the passcode to unlock the LOTUS-EATER’s front doors. Data restoration from some old hardware she never disposed of provided enough login information for you to keep things rolling. That theory crumbled when you recalled that in 2150 AE, building permits and inspections were made to be public records. 

Upon checking, from 2150 AE to the present, everything has supposedly been up to code. 

The employee who signed off on the inspections is under an Ade company, which falls outside your jurisdiction. 

You wrote to Chrysus detailing your concerns. His response can best be summarized as him telling you that he’ll handle it. 

That did little to put your doubts to rest. 

“I’m telling you, this is impossible,” Nona grumbles. “Can you reset it?” 

“I’ve already reset it four times.” 

“Well, you know, fifth time’s the charm.” 

You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve sighed throughout this training. 

“Let’s not give up so soon, okay? Which part do you feel is impossible?” 

You sit down beside her to get a better look. The blue, holographic screen fills you with nostalgia. This program was developed by a retired Arbiter to aid in their training. Essentially, it generates a ‘person’ with traits indistinguishable from their flesh and blood counterparts. Physiology, disposition, every experience they’ll go through from birth to death; it misses no detail. 

The trainees are supposed to go through the steps as if they were interacting with a client. They must establish a link by piecing together the simulated psyche, giving it an interactable form. 

Nona’s a rare case. Most Arbiters struggle with establishing and maintaining Synalinks, an area she excels at. It’s the first step that presents an issue. She has a difficult time establishing links. It’s a foundational part of the process that can’t be haphazard. 

“He’s so whiny. He’s a bigshot vocalist, traveling around the galaxy to sold-out shows, and he still complains that no one will ever ‘understand’ him or his art when even he doesn’t get it! He’s just coming up with fake deep lyrics.” 

“Did you look at the childhood fragments? For insecurity, that’s a good place to start.” 

“Oh, don’t get me started on that,” she grimaces as if she bit into something sour. “He came from old money. Opera star for a mom and a successful businessman for a dad. He wanted for nothing. But no, apparently he still needs to change his profile picture to black and the about section to ‘gone’ whenever he wants attention.” 

You pull up a critical childhood fragment. “Here you can see his father leaving a recital early to take a phone call. Then, after the performance, his mother is quick to point out the areas he needs to work on.” 

“So? He was screwing around on his phone during his singing lessons, what did he expect?” 

“Consider what happens when his tutor leaves. His face falls and he’s fighting back tears. He’s acting out to get the attention his parents don’t give him. The tutor is older and in a position of power, which makes him a perfect surrogate.” 

“That happened when he was six, though. He’s had decades to get over it.” 

“Even if that were true, it wouldn’t make a difference. A person’s experiences are real to them. Say I think there’s a hidden compartment in my bedroom due to the wall making a peculiar noise. I have lived my entire life believing this. If you saw that fragment while trying to piece my psyche together, then dispute it because you know there’s no hidden compartment, there’d be disunity. Every belief, no matter how small, connects in a complex web. Why did I make that inference? Did I read it in a book? Did my mother scare me into following curfew by saying a secret monster hiding there would get me if I stayed up too late? The mind is a fragile thing and we must treat it as such.” 

Nona puts her hands up. “Alright, alright, geez. Make sense of the events through their lens, not mine. Got it.” 

Unexpectedly, it’s Lear who speaks up next.

“What would happen if those fragments were altered?” 

You place a hand on your chin. “It’d depend on the fragment’s importance. In the example I gave, it’d cause friction in maintaining a link, but it wouldn’t fundamentally change everything I’ve ever known. As for a fragment more significant, well… I’m not sure.” 

“You aren’t?” 

“Without credible data to pull from, I’d only be speculating.” 

A frigid draft whirrs through. You shiver. 

“You’re better at this than I am, Lear. Wanna switch places?” Nona asks.

Lear stands up, his palm covering his mouth. It’s as if the vitality has been drained from his face. He transitions through multiple expressions, each more agonized than the last. Your heart twists violently against your ribcage. You want to call out to him, comfort him, but there’s no combination of words that’d douse the raging fire. 

Is it happening again? You think. No… this has to be the worst one yet! 

It’s before you again. 

A simple stage in a modest auditorium. 

There are no performers or stagehands. The lights in the theater are dim, the chairs are folded up. Pamphlets clutter the ground in disorganized heaps. Looking up, you realize they’re falling from the rafters like rain. One lands by your feet. You pick it up, squinting to make sense of the words. It’s a playbill advertising a show titled The Idiot. 

Directed by

ANIA PHAEALES

THE CAST

(In order of appearance)

The Servant…………………………………………………………………………..UNNAMED

The Fool…………………………………………………………………..…………..UNNAMED

The Coward…………………………………………………………………………...UNNAMED

On and on the list goes, ascribing every unflattering role to an unknown party. 

Mother’s name is here? Why? Was she that influential over Lear?

Spotlights flick on. Hot streams of light illuminate you in a blinding assault, which you try to block with your hands. The light’s intensity overpowers your meager attempts. A spectral crowd cheers, rousing applause and whistles emanating from empty chairs. Champagne glasses clink, men guffaw deep from their diaphragms, and women shriek like banshees. 

It gets hotter and louder, again, then once more; suffocating you in a cacophony of sensory stimuli. 

The audience makes passing comments. 

“... A shame, it couldn’t work out…” 

“Though what did they expect, truly…” 

“... Know how it is…” 

The finale rings crystal clear.

“Some people born will die never knowing love.”  

A wet, metallic-smelling substance drips from your nose. The softness of a rag replaces this feeling. It remains there, tickling your senses. There’s that floral scent again — subtle and pleasant. The flower it’s derived from may be toxic, but the strands of vermillion that curl outward like spider legs look so inviting. The petals are streams of blood frozen by time. Every time they wither, they’re forced to bloom again, perpetuating a cycle from which there’s no escape. 

You’ve seen sunsets in pictures. There are two of them glaring down at you now, circular, as if viewed through a looking glass. 

“How pretty,” your words blur together. “‘ve always to see… a sunset…” 

You never will, though. Eris is far, far away from any brilliant stars. The aloof night sky will be your lullaby and your dirge. 

Sluggishly, you sit up. You’re on one of the nice leather couches in The Club. A headache thumps in your head like a landlord who raps against the door of a tenant late with rent. You’re about to stand when an authoritative voice stops you.

“Stay still.” 

You open your mouth to protest. Blade must know your demeanor when you intend to be petulant, for he cuts you off. 

“That wasn’t a request.” 

You murmur something incomprehensible and melt back into the cushion. Regardless of your obedience, Blade stands close, as if you’re planning to bolt, trip on an uneven floor panel, then hit your head and die instantly. Glancing around, you note no one else is here. 

He follows your eyes and accurately surmises your intentions. “The quiet one ran out and the noisy one ran after him.” 

Any other time, that deadpan delivery mixed with his personal interpretation of Lear and Nona would’ve made you laugh. Presently, though, you’re fighting off a headache that outclasses every other that’s come before it. Top of the class and then some. It helps to know that Lear won’t be alone. Why exactly he experienced such an intense emotional eruption is a mystery to you. Then there’s the chaotic state of his psyche to consider; if you were disoriented from the aftershocks, the epicenter must’ve been cataclysmic. 

You’re so swept up in your thoughts, that it takes you a while to notice how Blade’s been staring at you. This in and of itself is nothing new. He’s been your shadow ever since forced this arrangement. It irritated you at first, but that blistering offense eased into acceptance. His vigilance felt befitting of a guard. Taking in your surroundings, assessing any threats; such is his prerogative. 

How he’s eyeing you now feels different. It’s as if he’s looking through you, not at you. 

“Is something wrong? You’re making such a scary expression,” you joke. 

No visual reaction. 

“I’m waiting for your explanation.” 

“About…?” 

Blade doesn’t bother hiding his displeasure. He glowers down at you, the difference in your height further exacerbated because you’re sitting down. 

The impromptu staring contest comes to an end when he speaks up, his voice carrying less hostility. 

“That idea you proposed,” he begins, moving back to return your personal space, “Are you still willing to try it?” 

He has to bring this up now of all times? You don’t want to loudly announce a deeply private matter, especially if there’s a possibility the information will make it back to Kafka. Your best shot is to downplay the severity of what you went through. He might be doing his job, but you don’t want him cordoning off Lear as a precautionary measure. You don’t blame Lear in the slightest — this punishment is appropriate for your past hubris. 

“Of course.” 

“I accept your offer.” 

Ah, you think. So this is the game he’s going to play.

“In that case… when should we get started?” 

You can guess his next sentence before it comes out. 

“I’m ready whenever you are.” 

Nona

hey hey

Nona

we’re all good here

Nona

lear’s quiet but he’s doing better. he keeps apologizing 

Nona

i thanked him for causing a scene and getting me out of class 

Nona

he kinda maybe let out a sound like a laugh

Nona

i’ll be hanging with him until things simmer down a bit more

Nona

man. i have to say though. sword guy had the most abominable vibes when it all went down

Nona

i yelled at him that if he hurt lear you would turn his mind into goop

Nona

soooo if you wouldn’t mind please tell him that was a joke and that i don’t deserve to get stabbed on sight. 

Nona

anyway. take care of yourself. call me when you feel up to it

It took three hours, a couple of painkillers, and more glasses of water than you cared to count to be ‘ready.’

You change into formal garments, consisting of an ivory gown that flows down to your feet, and a chiffon, indigo cloak that encases you from your shoulders to your knees. You fasten the heavy fabric into place with a broach your mother wore when she served as the Exalted Arbiter. It shows different stages of a moon, connected by four silver spokes. The highest point is the first quarter moon; to the right, the hollow outline of a new moon; the lowest point, the last quarter moon; then lastly, the full moon is to the left. 

Blade sits across from you in the chair designated for clients. He’s silent as you make your preparations, his eyes following you like a haunted painting. His ulterior motives are irrelevant. Inside this room, you’ve carried out your work as an Arbiter hundreds, if not thousands of times. You’ve heard the most clandestine fantasies that wouldn’t even be uttered on a deathbed. Devoid of judgment, you’ve filled your mind with the overflowing desires of their heart, careful not to lose a single drop. 

“Are you comfortable?” 

He nods. 

“Good. Let me know if you need anything.” 

An ornate tea kettle made from Eris’ dark stone sits atop the Nectary’s gemstone. It’s bronze in color and emits a warm, calming glow. Once the water inside is brought to a boil, you pour it into an opal goblet. Next, you add ambrosia leaves that have been ground into a fine powder. It sizzles upon contact with the water. Finally, you procure a vial from a pouch inside your clothes. Four drops of the Necatary’s tonic descend into the concoction. 

“I’ve seen you drink this before,” Blade notes. 

“Now you’ll get to try. Don’t worry, it isn’t poisoned.” 

It could be the low lighting and exhaustion, but you swear you see his lips curl upward. 

“Add however much you please. My only condition is that it works permanently.” 

“It’s a tempting offer. Sadly, I have to drink after you. Maybe another time.” 

After stirring the ambrosia, you hand the goblet to him. His eyes remind you of burning embers. Their radiance fascinates you. You shift in your seat, suddenly conscious of yourself. Has his gaze always held this weight? When he pulls the goblet away, you notice the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallows, how there’s a pretty sheen coating his lips. 

Where is this onslaught coming from? Why couldn’t it have waited until later? 

You hurriedly take a sip from the goblet. Noct’s ichor tastes sweet and spicy.

It’s tradition to repeat an incantation so as to invoke your slumbering Aeon’s blessing. You’re about to say it, when there’s a cool, smooth sensation against the corner of your lips. Every muscle in your body goes taut as if you’ve been turned to stone by some wicked spell. 

Blade’s gloved finger ghosts over your skin. 

He’s leaning over, still sitting down, close enough that you can see your reflection in his eyes. You see how high your eyebrows have raised, the ‘o’ shape of your mouth. 

“B-Blade?” Your voice comes out like a squeak. 

He says nothing. Goosebumps litter your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Your heart is a ferocious war drum. Whether it’s sounding an alarm or an invitation, you cannot tell. A beast made in your image has life breathed into it. You thought you slayed it, watched the light drain from its beady eyes, but it’s resuscitating. 

Then again, maybe you’re a fool for thinking lust can stay dead. 

He sinks back into his seat, completely impassive, acting like what he did carried no significance. 

“Some of the drink got on you,” he explains, entirely nonchalant. “I cleaned it off.” 

Being thrown into a furnace wouldn’t compare to the heat ensnaring your body. 

You cough into your hand. “Oh, yeah, that’s— thank you.” 

The awkward jumble of words flounders out before you can stop them. Your lessons in etiquette and oration have hidden themselves, somewhere beyond accessibility, scurrying to the shadows like mice when a cat approaches. If you were to make a list of your dumbest statements, this would make it far in the rankings. 

This time, you’re certain of it. That little smirk. Maybe he’s getting back at you for withholding information earlier. 

Whatever the case, you have a goal you’re determined to see through. You resume the incantation, although your voice lacks assertiveness. 

“To dream is a sacred thing. Don’t fear it. Welcome it, rejoice in it, and shed no tears when it is finished. We’ve been granted your purest blessing. As you slumber, we find rest in you. Allow us the sweetest of dreams.” 

You close your eyes…

… And when you reopen them, the Shackling Prison looms above you. 

This link is far more stable than its predecessor. There’s no ticking timer hurrying you along, you’re free to examine every nook and cranny. You notice how desaturated your surroundings are. The blades of grass closest to the prison blend in with the stone, the only hit belying their true nature being how they sway in the breeze. There isn’t any vegetation or ambiance that suits the surrounding environment. Birds don’t sing, rushing rivers are silent, and bugs refuse to perform their melodies. 

Nothing regresses or progresses; he’s wedged in a constant state of inertia. Your heart aches. 

You make your way to the impenetrable gates. After thinking about it, you hypothesized the seal you previously encountered was an emergency defense he unknowingly created. At that exact moment, Blade didn’t want you puppeteering him. He may be enigmatic, but what you know for certain is that he takes his assignments seriously. The Stellaron Hunters want you alive so he has to as well. 

That’d explain why it acted hostile to your interference. You’ve never established a link in such a high-stakes, volatile setting. You were bound to encounter oddities of some fashion. This explanation reassures you as you get closer. 

Only to ruthlessly get debunked. 

The seal is still here. It’s styled in the outline of a circle, overlapping the doors that keep you from studying Blade’s mara. Frustration floods you. This can’t be Blade’s handiwork. The one comparison is how it emanates steady energy, similar to how he is in a meditative state. The similarities stop there. 

It's grown paler, you realize. Its potency has waned since I’ve last seen it, too. 

To test this, you push against it. 

The gates creak back. 

This gap lets you steal a glance at Blade’s mara. It consists of multiple tumor-like abscesses that writhe against each other, forming a pulsating, fleshy mass. This ebullition isn’t consistent. Different sections have a will of their own. Some try consuming their adversary, others suffocate what’s beneath through their bulk alone. The horror extends down into a pit whose depth you couldn’t possibly guess. Killing, devouring, gorging, and digesting; only to experience a rebirth that will perpetuate the cycle. 

It pushes against the windows and seeps into the structure’s cracks, of which you count many. The mara’s repairing him, vigilant in its upkeep. It is a ghastly glue holding fractured pieces that long for respite together. 

Your intrusion causes it to gurgle and retract. The mara doesn’t break down or weaken, it gradually oozes down like bile in an esophagus. 

The seal repels you, cutting your grotesque investigation short. 

The last thing you see before the gates slam shut is the mara reclaiming its territory. 

…

Blade’s fully conscious while you need some time to refamiliarize yourself with your surroundings. Your head raises its thunderous complaints about how it’s being overused lately. You down a cup of water, careful not to get any on your lips, so your earlier weakness isn’t repeated. 

“Alright. Let me get my thoughts together,” You take a deep breath, then continue, “I only caught a glimpse of your mara. It did retreat after noticing my presence, although I’m not sure why.

Blade doesn’t say anything. You’re beginning to get used to that. 

“And another thing. I didn’t think it was worth mentioning, since everything about our previous link was messy… but this time and the last, there’s this seal preventing me from going deeper. Do you have any idea what that’s about?” 

“You’re the expert here.” 

That must mean he doesn’t. 

“Hah. I’m starting to wonder about that.” 

You don’t mean to sound so defeated. You have some years under your belt — 120, to be exact — but you’ve realized how many areas you’re lacking in. Nymphalians live anywhere from 500 to 700 years. Your mother was 200 when she’d been anointed as Eris’ new Exalted Arbiter. She tried stamping out the quiet pride your prodigious abilities instilled in you. All it did was form a gaping chasm neither of you ever tried to mend. 

You have the materials now, but it’s too late. There’d be no one waiting on the other side once you crossed.

Blade leans forward, presses his elbows to his knees, and rests his chin on his fists. 

“Would it help if you touched me?” 

You shoot up straight from your chair like it just stabbed you. Heat infuses into your cheeks, then spreads throughout, momentarily stupefying you. His monotonous words loop in your head. How can he sit there so collected after making an insinuation like that?! Especially when you’re not at your top performance. 

“That’s highly inna—” 

“You avoid skin-to-skin contact,” he interrupts, his visage unreadable. “The one time you didn’t, you made it far.” 

It’s a mistake to underestimate his perspicacity just because he doesn’t actively flaunt it. 

“What did you think I meant?” 

Why can’t his voice have a little more intonation? If he’s being playful, his delivery is too dry for you to tell. 

“Nothing, nothing at all,” you sit back down and cross your legs in an attempt to look professional. “What you’re referring to is a precaution my mother suggested. In the past, strange reactions have occurred after I came into direct contact with someone. Not always, though. No one could determine the how or why.” 

You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Honestly… you Stellaron Hunters should’ve just waterboarded me, you would’ve gotten this information faster, if that’s the objective here.” 

“Lie if you want.” 

“I don’t want to lie to you,” you admit. He knits his eyebrows together, an act that accentuates the dark lines beneath his eyes. “You deserve to understand what I did. If I hadn’t resorted to that, it’d be different.” 

“Hm.” 

No one can ever claim Blade doesn’t have a way with words. 

Suppressing a yawn, you refocus the conversation. “I think we made some good progress here. I’m willing to keep at it if you are.” 

“No. That’s enough for now,” he says. “Go rest.” 

“Eh? I can keep going, though.” 

“I know. Rest anyway.” 

Your body is letting you know that it’s finished, your exhaustion has crossed the semi-tolerable threshold to unbearable. There’s a hearing to prepare for, Nona and Lear to reach out to, and about another million odds and ends. This flurry of activity won’t get done any faster if you’re crawling around like a host controlled by a parasite. 

“... Fine, have it your way. Lear’s always getting on me about my sleeping habits too.” 

You sense an irregular fluctuation from him. However, there’s no shift in his body language, so you decide it isn’t your place to pry. 

“Blade?” 

He turns his head toward you. 

“This ability of mine, it’s only ever provided entertainment for others, which is fine, of course… but… the chance to help someone directly… is a first,” you give him a bashful smile. “Thank you for trusting me. I mean it.” 

For a brief moment, his gaze doesn’t feel so intense.

Nona

hey hey 

Nona

please tell me the sword guy didn’t confiscate your phone. if that’s the case it’s so over

Nona

i’m not going up against him to get it back

It’s me texting from [First]’s phone. I remember what you said about the brain goop. Lock your windows and sleep with one eye open.

Nona

!!!

Nona 

gg

Nona

oh btw. the dust has settled

Nona

it’s weird… this doesn’t happen for years, then suddenly, twice in such close succession? 

Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too I don’t get it

Nona

welcome back from being held hostage btw

Wow thank you

Let me know if you both need anything I actually have no idea how I haven’t passed out yet

Nona

it’s because you haven’t given mushroom mania a chance. their music is so chill

Nona is typing…

Please don’t spam the link to their album again

Nona

alright fine whatever

Nona

i am bored though if you want to play connect four hmu

Nona has invited you to play Connect Four™©®.

Nona

[first]? come back my queen

Nona

wow you fell asleep fast </3

Nona

rest up. you deserve it

There are two monitors in front of you.

To the left is a man with a graceful physiognomy — Chrysus Ophídion. He has hair white as snow, pulled back into a long ponytail that stops at his lower back. His eyes are sharp, cunning, hidden behind thin glasses that reflect his monitor’s shine. He’s already asked you the questions courtesy demands, such as your health and how the LOTUS-EATER is faring during the IPC travel ban. 

“It’s nothing but a power play,” he had reassured you. “I’ve had productive negotiations with their chief financial officer, he’s insinuated that a proposal to remedy the dispute isn’t far off.” 

While you’d often be remiss to take Chrysus at his word, there is one sacred objective he’ll never work against — money. 

He isn’t exactly subtle. His office’s backdrop is a hulking conglomerate; a screen that shows everything from graphs of Eris’ most prominent businesses to stocks throughout the universe updating in real-time. There must be around a hundred different squares dedicated to this flashing panoply. Before Chrysus’ repurposing, it was a wide window from which one could view Eris’ mountain range to the northeast. Your mother detested the change and the room itself. 

Then to the right, there’s Caicias Rex. He’s a burly, bearded man, with dark hair going silver from age. Rumors have been circulating that he’ll announce his retirement on his 500th birthday. Between the two, you prefer dealing with him. Caicias isn’t verbose or prickly. If anything, he’s a little too brazen. 

“How are you holding up, little Miss Arbiter?” 

Caicias’ gravelly voice is at a deafening volume, made worse by the fact you’re using in-ears. His microphone peaks at its own leisure. 

“Caicias, please, your microphone,” Chrysus grits out whilst wincing, “Did you not have your assistant set it up beforehand as I suggested?” 

You both take out your in-ears before he responds. It’s loud enough that you can hear what he’s saying even while holding them far away. 

“Oh, the dial’s screwed up. Alright. There. Any better?” 

You put your in-ears back on. “I believe so.” 

“Great! Let me repeat myself then. Are you feeling any better? Ready to do all that mind magic stuff?” 

“I’m doing much better, thank you. If you’re referring to my capacity to establish links, I haven’t encountered any issues so far.” 

Caicias takes a moment to respond. “That way of speaking, your posture… you’re the spitting image of Ania.” 

The call falls silent. While you’re thinking of something to say, Chrysus takes the initiative himself. 

“May Noct grant her blissful rest,” he repeats the platitude you heard spoken aplenty at your mother’s funeral. “I apologize for changing the topic so abruptly, but there’s a sensitive matter at hand to discuss. I ask that you both listen until I’m finished without any interjections.” 

Sensitive? What could he possibly mean by that? 

You feel a churning in your soul. 

“Thank you. As you’re both well aware, the position of Ade’s Exalted Regent isn’t limited to operating as Eris’ primary treasurer. Caicias and the belated Ania Phaeales agreed to my proposal to form a coalition that’d combat Eris’ uptick in crime decades prior. The coalition has seen great success. 

With Miss Phaeales injured and Mister Rex preoccupied with investigating hazardous mining conditions in the Nectary, I was appointed head of the Thelx nectar guide bombing investigation. My team and I have spared no resources in uncovering the culprits behind such a senseless act of violence. 

Initially, we turned our attention toward the IPC. At this point, we’ve found nothing to implicate them. On the contrary, evidence from the preliminary investigation suggests the involvement of Arc citizens. I am well aware of the prejudice certain people have against those who come from Arc, so I wanted to be absolutely certain. You’ll both receive digital copies of the documented evidence, but for the purpose of this hearing, I’ll focus on the most relevant evidence. 

Through data restoration and witness accounts, two main suspects have been identified. Felix Laurence, a nectar guide engineer who was granted Thelx citizenship by Ania Phaeales, and his nephew, Ryker Laurence, unemployed. A standard employee-issued passcode assigned to Felix accessed the NGT, or Nectar Guide Terminal, three cycles prior to the incident. Logs show he spent considerable time eyeing the schedule of the cycle when Miss Phaeales was to depart.

Felix’s co-workers have corroborated that he offered to take their shifts, as the trip was scheduled on a cycle he doesn’t work. His offer was accepted by the second person he asked. Audio logs recorded in the common area corroborate this. Surveillance places Felix’s arrival at 0100 hours, where he claimed that an emergency malfunction notice was sent to his pager. The NGT confirms no such notice was issued. 

The fragments recovered from the explosive device show it to be the kind that activates on contact, which simplifies the installation process. Felix is seen returning at 0112. Co-workers report he seemed ‘unlike himself’ and was drenched in sweat. Miss Phaeales’ cabin departed at 0200, the tragedy occurred at 0223. A reconstruction of the device reveals a minor malfunction that delayed the device’s detonation, a blessing from Noct, I’m sure. 

The Laurence residence was promptly raided, where materials matching those inside the explosive crime were located. Testimonies from those who know Ryker attest to his hobby of making strange contraptions that never work as intended. I have personnel ready to detain Felix and his co-conspirator Ryker at a moment’s notice, in compliance with Eris’ No Involuntary Confinement Act, where they’ll be extradited to Arc unless they make an appeal.” 

The pictures of the two suspects take up Chrysus’ screen. Caicias strokes his beard while viewing them, whereas you remain motionless. You remember the name Felix Laurence. You attended the event where his special citizenship was awarded, some twenty years ago. What could have driven him to this? Where did you fall short? If it was your mother in charge, would things have gone differently? Chrysus, Caicias, Kafka… none of them take you seriously. They consider you a child playing make pretend. 

Is that not what you are? 

Mother would’ve held her own if Kafka tried coercing her. 

She would’ve found out about the building inspection dilemma through her own channels. 

Blade’s seal, his mara — she would’ve helped him better than you ever could. 

But she can’t. She’s gone and you’ll never be her. 

“I understand it’s a lot to take in,” Chrysus states. It doesn’t sound like he means it. “In truth, the account I gave is highly summarized. I felt I owed it to Miss Phaeales before I arrived at my next point.” 

“... What do you mean by that?” You ask. 

“It became clear to me that an investigation like this couldn’t be limited in scope. For instance, how did Felix know Miss Phaeales was due to use the nectary guide at that specific cycle and that specific time? As I said earlier, he accessed the NGT, but your name isn’t visible there. Only the Director of Operations knows when you’re set to travel. All Felix would’ve been able to see is that a private cabin was scheduled to leave at 0200, which isn’t a rare occurrence.” 

“Please place aside certain biases to the best of your ability,” he says. “Ryker’s correspondence these past two years showed some red flags. Specifically, he had frequent correspondence with an unknown person whose IP was traced back to the LOTUS-EATER. These conversations were largely written in code, but from what we’ve decrypted, this unknown person has been leaking information about you and Ania Phaeales. Based on available information, it’s highly likely that this unknown person is who you refer to as ‘Nona.’”

Caicias closes his eyes and exhales. 

“That… that’s absurd,” your voice is weaker than a breeze. “There’s no way I’ll accept a baseless accusation like this.” 

“Allow me to once again request that you place aside your bias. Nona, whose birth name is unknown, was born and raised in Arc’s most hostile faction. At the self-reported age of 74, she submitted a request for Thelx citizenship. Your mother, in her benevolence, granted the request due to seeing Nona’s potential as a future Arbiter. Do you deny any of this?” 

You think you might be sick. 

“... No,” you grit out. 

“Why would she suddenly abandon an extremist group and request citizenship in Thelx, a quadrant they’re especially hateful towards? Or, did this faction see an opportunity in Nona, who was widely known to have a talent close to yours in establishing Synalinks?”

“Little Nona is what, 113 now? That’s a long time to be acting as a double agent,” Caicias points out. 

“Can indoctrination like that ever be fully deprogrammed?” Chrysus challenges. 

Your horror gives way to an icy rage. 

“If you’re determined to pursue this ‘lead’, so be it, I guarantee my staff and I will fully cooperate. That doesn’t mean you can implicate one of my Arbiters for such a serious offense with nothing but circumstantial evidence.” 

Chrysus sighs. “I’m sorry you see it that way. You’re right that there’s no direct evidence yet — I bring this up to err on the side of caution. It’d deal a severe blow to Eris if anything happened to the Phaeales bloodline. Is it at least fair to say that out of everyone at the LOTUS-EATER, Nona would be one of the most familiar with your itinerary? Did you tell her about your trip to Perianth II?” 

You draw your lips in a thin line. You had told her. 

“Alright, Chrysus, this isn’t an interrogation. This is Ania’s daughter you’re talking to,” Caicias frowns. 

Ania’s daughter, huh?

“... You’re right. I just wish to ensure Miss Phaeales’ safety. I got ahead of myself.” 

“There are better approaches. Let’s call it for now. We won’t get anywhere bickering like this,” Caicias says. He steeples his fingers and looks directly into the camera. “Have your men keep watch on those two. We’ll meet back again in a cycle; that should give us enough time to flip through all these documents you’re sending.” 

This suggestion is for your sake and you all know it. Caicias has good intentions, but you’ll never earn the respect necessary for a leader if you back down now. You imagine you’re preparing to establish a link. The steps it entails, how your mind must surrender its solid form. 

“To dream is a sacred thing. Don’t fear it. Welcome it, rejoice in it, and shed no tears when it is finished. We’ve been granted your purest blessing. As you slumber, we find rest in you. Allow us the sweetest of dreams.” 

“It’s alright, Mister Rex. I can keep going,” you reassure with a smile. Your cadence has lost its vibrato and transitions into a steady timbre. Every dissonant note is scratched out to recite the sheet music lying before you. If you’re to get through this, it’ll be the performance of a lifetime. 

“Hm… are you sure?” Caicias asks. He squints, trying to get a better read on you through the screen. 

You consider a conductor’s baton, how it glides through the air, commanding absolute obedience from its orchestra. Your heart, your lungs, the feeling of static buzzing in your head; you demand a decrescendo. 

You might not be your mother, but you can play in the same key. 

“I am. Mister Ophídion, would you please go over everything from the beginning without paraphrasing? There’s a great deal to examine.” 

You’re occupying a space between reality and fantasy. 

Cogency of any kind flees from you. Chasing after it has become tiring, a prospect that instills dread. There’s no affliction worse than uncertainty. You envy fortunate fools who can cling to a belief from their first breath to their last, what a blessing it must be to never reside in doubt’s shadow. 

You don’t know what to think, what to feel, what to do. 

Chrysus had an explanation for everything. The file he’s built up on Nona? That’s standard procedure, anyone in such close quarters with you must be vetted. The employee who signed off on an unsafe building? A full investigation will be conducted, you need only be patient. Why hadn't he contacted you sooner about any of this? He didn’t want to risk any leaks that’d tip off the enemy before he was prepared. 

You don’t know what was worse. Being treated like an idiot by Chrysus or a sniveling child by Caicias.

Ripping your mother’s broach off, you walk over to the balcony’s edge and raise your arm. 

The inky night spreads out like paint spilled across a canvas. This is the only view you’ve had throughout the years — a cold void that never wanted to host life. The nameless planet must’ve counted itself fortunate to have been passed up by settlers. No one will ever want to settle here, it had thought. I will make my surface so terrible that those who come here will certainly die. 

You lower your arm. The broach is set on a table you subsequently push out of sight.

In a way, this balcony is your cell. You’ve sat here and contemplated freedom as any inmate would. What would it be like to feel the sun? Does it burn, does it sting? Is it true that you shouldn’t stand in it for long? What about the sunrise? How lovely it must be for such a sight to be there every morning, greeting you with its gentle colors and soft edges.

You hug your legs to your chest and rest your head on your knees. 

The door behind you opens without warning. 

You don’t need to look to know who it is. You can pick up on his taciturn presence without trying. It’s inevitable, so long as you’ve been exposed to a person enough.

Blade’s footsteps make no sound, he’s almost like a levitating wraith. You assume he’ll take his place on the leftmost chair. It's become an unspoken ritual. Those who have experienced the sun are ever so enchanted by the moon, he’s no different. Rather than sitting down, however, he lingers behind you. You can feel him staring. After a few seconds, he comes closer, so that he’s beside you.

Wordlessly, he holds out a teacup you’ve never seen. It’s porcelain with a glossy finish, boasting intricate blue designs painted along the sides. The inside contains a bloody ocean that glistens beneath the moonlight. The aroma clues you in — it’s ambrosia, just without the Nectary’s tonic. 

“Is this for me?” You whisper, incredulous.

His flat expression seems to communicate, ‘Who do you think it’s for?’ 

You cradle it in both your hands. Warmth seeps through and becomes acquainted with your skin. Likewise, the steam wafts up, tickling your nose. It’s as if the drink is a pocket watch and you’ve been hypnotized. 

Once it’s secure in your grasp, he pulls back. 

Then he starts to walk away. 

He’s leaving? Why is he leaving? 

Your body springs up of its own accord. You balance the teacup in one hand and reach out to him with the other, your fingers fanning out, ready to sink into whatever they can. Everything happens in the blink of an eye. Your free hand succeeds in finding a destination — settling on the abrasive finish of his bandages. 

You feel another texture alongside it. 

It’s smooth, cold, and visible through the interstices of his winding bandages. 

His skin. 

Realizing this, you withdraw your hand in panic. Then you wait, bracing yourself for a brutal rebound. What horrors could a mind like his prepare for you? Would it cross the threshold of mental anguish to physical harm? You squeeze your eyes shut. 

When you find the courage to reopen them, there’s nothing abominable waiting with bated breath to drag you through a mental purgatory. 

Instead of a consequence, there’s only Blade, fixed in place. He hasn’t moved an inch. 

You’re okay. Nothing’s wrong.

You let out a relieved sigh. 

“Let me at least get the words thank you out,” you insist, desperate to refocus his attention. “I… thank you. You don’t have to be… in such a rush…?” 

There’s a beat of silence. 

Much to your chagrin, Blade takes your teacup by the rim and lifts it. You tilt your head. Did he… did he just repossess your drink? That’s a low blow.

“You were about to drop it,” Blade deadpans. “Quit pouting.” 

“Wh—?! I’m not pouting!” 

He raises an eyebrow. 

To think you went through all that anxiety for this. 

“You Stellaron Hunters are the worst,” you grumble. 

“Hm.” 

Fed up beyond measure, you spin on your heel and start walking back to your chair. You deserve an uninterrupted night of listening to depressing music while thinking depressing thoughts. It’s your right, having endured so much lately.

“[First].” 

A chain reaction goes off in your chest. You’ve made it one measly step away and a blackhole threatens to reel you back. His voice, that deep, resonant tone, stirs something inside you, beckons it out to play. He spoke your name. Has he ever done so before? You don’t know. If someone were to ask you the most basic question right now, you’d be physically incapable of responding. 

He doesn’t have to ask you to come back. You do so willingly. 

Blade brings the teacup back down to your height. Confusingly, he doesn’t return it to your hands, nor does he give any indication that he plans on doing so. He’s holding it level to your face. You want to ask what it is he wants from you. It’s best to have everything out in the open, so that no misconceptions arise, and yet, that rational thinking presents itself as a nuisance. You don’t want anything to ruin this moment. The ambiguity entices you and holds your soul captive while the key is within reach. 

Tentatively, you press your lips to the teacup’s edge. 

The emotions teeming inside of him are palpable. They curl around you, these tendrils of unadulterated carnality squirm against your flesh. It isn’t a fair comparison to say you’re playing with fire. No, you’re laying down at an altar as a voluntary sacrifice. 

He inclines the teacup toward you.

It’s a harmonic union between saccharine and spice, a robust flavor that leaves your tongue tingling. He rebalances the cup while you swallow your first sip. Pulling back, you look up at him through your eyelashes.

“It’s delicious,” you compliment. In a coquettish act, you wet your lips as if you’d made a mess. 

His eyes glow like molten magma. 

Slowly, you stand on your tiptoes, both your arms coiling around his neck. You pull him closer and he lets you. Your lips almost connect, only for you to move back at the last second. He tries remedying this by leaning down further. You prove stubborn by dodging him once more. His nostrils flare and he lets out a sound akin to a growl. 

“Aw,” you coo, a condescending lilt present. You twist your head to the side and jut out your lower lip. “Who’s pouting now?” 

He descends on you like a rabid dog. 

His lips are relentless, demanding more and more, driven by a fervor that belies his seemingly apathetic disposition. It isn’t sensual so much as it is voracious. You’re taken aback yet find it titillating all the same. His bandaged hand flies to your nape, then drops lower, following the ridges of your spine. Subconsciously, you arch your back. He shudders at the softness of your chest pressing against him. His hand eventually settles on the back of your thigh, squeezing and grabbing the flesh with blatant greed. Without warning, he hikes your leg up, an act that causes you to temporarily lose your balance. 

Blade’s chest rumbles in a low chuckle. The husky sound sends heat straight to your core, you may have left out a debauched noise if your lips hadn’t been preoccupied. 

Regardless, you won’t let him off that easily. Who knows what he’ll start to pull if you’re lenient. You pull away and glare at him for the infraction. Considering your messy hair, heaving chest, and swollen lips, you doubt you’re very frightening to one of the universe’s most notorious criminals. The mirth dancing in his eyes confirms this. 

“Still you,” he muses. 

You release an audible yelp as he effortlessly picks you up. Manhandling you must be a newfound delight of his, his satisfaction is readily apparent. You doubt he’d drop you, but your instincts aren’t allowing the risk — you cling yourself to him for extra security. It occurs to you that both his hands are in use. Recalling the teacup, you glance around, curious about its whereabouts. You find it sitting beside your broach, perfectly intact. Wasn’t he holding it seconds ago? 

“How did you do that?” 

He grabs your chin and turns your head back to face him. 

“Strange, clumsy, and distractible,” he mutters, though not without a certain fondness. “Keep your eyes on me, girl.” 

“It’s a legitimate question! Also, hold on,” you jab your fingers at his chest in accusation, “I’m most certainly older than you. Are you familiar with the adage, ‘respect your elders?’”

“Are you?” 

“Well, obviously, otherwise I wouldn’t have said it— ohhh.”

He’s gracious enough to wait as you piece everything together. Xianzhou attire, an ability that could reasonably be classified as immortality… 

“On second thought, ideas like that are outdated. They perpetuate a cycle of complacency. Respect is earned, not given.” 

“At the end of the day, past that haughty exterior…” Blade trails off, his lips nearing your outer earlobe. You swallow while he keeps you in suspense. The pointed tips of his canine teeth drag against the sensitive flesh, sometimes sinking down, only to let up before he leaves behind so much as an indent. 

He plays this game for as long as it pleases him and not a moment longer. 

Finally, he bites down, almost eliciting a whimper. It takes considerable self-control to hold it in. 

“You’re something of a brat, aren’t you?” 

He accentuates this remark by grabbing the tips of your hair and tugging them to the side. Not enough to hurt, but enough to give him a canvas to work with. His teeth trail down from your ear to your neck, settling on your racing pulse point. He nibbles at the area just enough to leave behind marks. Meanwhile, your breathing picks up to an erratic pace. You lull your head to the side so that he has unrestricted access. He rewards your obedience with a kiss, soothing the tender area he’s been working on. 

Amazing as that feels, you swear you’ll go crazy if you don’t receive more stimulation. Whether or not he’s aware of this, you can’t say for sure, but you do know that he’s taking his sweet time sucking and nibbling the second place you want him most. In this position, there’s little you can do to encourage more friction. It’s too awkward an angle to grind against him, not to mention how damaging that’d be to your ego.

You tighten your grip around his broad shoulders in what you hope to be an obvious tell. When that doesn’t get you anywhere, an agitated noise slips by before you can stop it. 

Finally, he pulls back from his assault on your neck. “What?” 

How has his voice deepened in pitch?! 

“Just— don’t you want to, you know, inside?” 

“I don’t know. You’ll have to be clearer.” 

This bastard is deliberately toying with you. Huffing, you move back, unsurprised by the sight of supposed neutrality. He might be able to keep his facial expressions in check, but his eyes give him away. There’s no mistaking it. Those are the eyes of a starving beast. The intensity makes you shiver. Whether it’s from primordial fear or lust, there’s no telling. It’s most likely a warped combination of the two. 

This is a feeling you could get addicted to. 

Your dominant hand rises to cup his cheek. Exhaling a shaky breath, you allow the taut muscles in your face to relax. Your leering gives way to something softer. You familiarize yourself with him, running the pad of your thumb over his cheekbones, then lightly kissing the same cheek. His palms dig into you tighter. Acting as if you have all the time in the world, you pepper his face with featherlight kisses, loosely following a line that ends near his mouth. Finally, having arrived at your spell’s conclusion, you place a chaste kiss on his lips. 

You bat your eyelashes in a show of faux coyness. 

“Please?” 

He audibly swallows. 

Testing your limits, you throw in a sly comment. “Don’t you have a soft spot for me?” 

Blade scoffs. He doesn’t say anything for or against your claim, but you do notice how the tips of his ears turn red. 

“If I’d known this was the best way to deal with you Stellaron Hunters, I would’ve considered doing this with Kafka.”

Blade’s eyes narrow into slits that, realistically, should unsettle you. It does to an extent. Especially considering the maelstrom of heightened emotions swirling around him, and, by extension, you. He’s glowering, sizing you and your intentions up. He lets out a harsh laugh, shaking his head while doing so. 

“What a mouth,” he remarks. 

Unbothered by the vitriol, you shrug. “You’re the one who told me to speak ‘normally.’” 

“My mistake.” 

You don’t get to respond — his lips are on yours again. He steps back, somehow mindful enough to input the door’s passcode while never breaking away from you. His tongue doesn’t ask for entry, it demands it. You’re happy to comply. He takes pleasure in ravishing your mouth, tasting the lingering flavors from the gift that brought you to this. 

You’re back on a solid surface after he pushes some writing implements to the side. You decide that this will be the one time you allow someone to make a mess of your desk. He urges your legs open with his knee, a request you’re quick to fulfill. 

His lung capacity must be otherworldly, you have to give his shoulders a push for him to get the hint. A throaty noise leaves him, expressing his disgruntlement at the prospect of parting. Still, he grants you respite. A thin trail of saliva sees to it that your contact isn’t completely severed. 

Blade doesn’t let you recuperate for long. He presses his hard length against your core, creating heavenly friction. You no longer have the means to muffle your noises, which must’ve been his intent. His hands find your hips in a frenzy. He grabs the flesh, pulls you closer, and grinds against your clothed cunt. 

It doesn’t take long for you to teeter close to the edge. The guttural noises near your ear, the steady stimulation, his scent, and shameless thirst for you; everything envelops your head in an intoxicating haze. Your problems that stack high into the sky seem so far away. The stress evaporates away, the tension you’ve held in your body dissipating alongside it. He’s doing most of the work for you. 

Your peak gets closer, you’re right on the precipice—

—And he stops. 

You can’t say you didn’t see it coming. Blade has a penchant for riling you up, delighting in the vivid reactions he gets. 

This cruelty earns him a whine. 

“You’re awful.”

“And you’re impatient,” is his rebuttal. 

“I am,” you agree. You learn that your equilibrium is askew when you get up. After steadying your wobbly legs, you grab his wrist and tug. Your sulking must be more tantalizing than any destination you could take him to. It isn’t until the fifth pull that he relents and follows along. You pull up the lock specifications for your bedroom, inputting that an unregistered person has permission to enter. Your fingers lack the dexterity to complete this adjustment on the first try. 

And the second. 

And the third. 

“Say anything and I’ll… I’ll…” 

“You’ll…?” he encourages.

“I’ll practice celibacy,” is your final threat. 

“Mhm.” 

Your bedroom door opens on the fourth try.

After fiddling with your do not disturb settling, you point to the edge of your bed. 

“Sit there.” 

He takes off his shoes first then listens to your request. You unfasten your outer cloak. The long fabric falls into your grasp and is put aside. You’re left in nothing but your loungewear, a simple button-up shirt and leggings. Turning around, you anticipate an annoying expression to be sprawled over his face. You even have an insult on standby. 

These thoughts crumble into dust. 

Blade’s gripping your comforter hard enough for his knuckles to turn bone white. He’s leaning forward, as if ready to pounce, yet lucid enough to exercise some semblance of self-control. He reminds you of a starved animal trapped in a cage, salivating over a piece of meat hanging outside the bars. Goosebumps cover your body. This isn’t simple lust… it’s visceral, some primitive desire too overwhelming to be understood. 

You’re the one he’s staring at with this unbridled yearning. 

Yes, he’s teased you. Pushed your buttons and riled you up. Not so subtly flaunted the strength that lets him maneuver you like you weigh nothing. You might have status and mastery in your given field, but he’s participated in the annihilation of worlds; the end of civilizations that span back since time immemorial. 

He should be the one in charge. 

Yet as you stand here, witnessing how he tortures himself by not pouncing on you like he easily could, a thought is planted. 

He’d really do anything you asked if it kept this from ending. 

The adrenaline rush this realization brings is enough to turn any cognition you still possess off. 

Your trembling hands hover above your topmost button. Your mattress dips as he slants forward, his fraying patience almost snapping. You hear the leather of his gloved hand creak from how hard he’s clenching it. You shake your head to deter him. The room’s atmosphere has a headiness to it that renders you breathless. Had you seen this expression without context, you’d think he was in physical agony. 

A button is undone for every step you take toward him.

The thin shirt flutters off your shoulders when your knees hit the bed’s edge. 

Blade gazes at your body as if he’d find salvation in it. 

Since you were planning to relax, you’d discarded your bra earlier. The exposure to the cool air causes your nipples to harden. He can’t settle for ogling any one part of your bare torso, his eyes flitter from your collarbones to your chest, your navel, then back up again. You start bending over. His eyes widen slightly. It takes you a second to find where his mind has wandered off since you were just going to remove your leggings. 

“What? Was there something you wanted from me?” You hum. 

If looks could kill, you’d be a goner. 

You decide he’s suffered enough. Your leggings are thrown aside, you’re past the point of caring to be tidy. You both exhale shakily as you sit your clothed cunt directly over his prominent bulge. Your arousal seeps through your panties and onto his pants; there’ll be no pretending that you aren’t as excited as he is. 

“Are you finished?” 

His low, grumpy voice has no business sounding as good as it does. 

You play with his high collar and pretend to ponder. “Hm… I guess.” 

No sooner than the words leave your mouth do you get flipped over.

Blade’s large hands fondle your chest, memorizing how soft and pliable the flesh is for him. He’s quick to remove one so that he can attach his lips to your pert nipple. He sucks the tender area, releasing sounds that’d have you thinking he was the one being pleasured. Meanwhile, his free palm flattens against your stomach. 

You’re lost in a myriad of sensations. His hot, wet mouth sucking your nipple, the cold smoothness of his gloved hand fondling what isn’t in his mouth, the coarse texture of his bandages sliding along your skin. He’s obsessed with your body and it shows. Whether he’s worshiping or desecrating it remains to be seen. 

“Blade, please,” you roll your hips against his so he can get the message. 

He delivers his punishment swiftly — he tweaks one nipple and nibbles the other. 

Unexpectedly, this extracts a mewl from you. 

Blade pulls back. A self-satisfied grin spreads over his face. 

“Poor needy thing,” he chuckles. Your glare doesn’t last long, for he brushes his fingertips over your clothed clit. He draws featherlight circles. “Soaked too. What? Was there something you wanted from me?” 

His reciting of your previous taunt antagonizes your pride. Rather than responding verbally, you try grinding against his stupidly stationary fingers. He holds your hips down to prevent you from misbehaving further. Having not learned your lesson, you try again. He barely needs to exert any more strength for your body to be pinned to the bed as if you were a butterfly on a collector’s wall. 

He clicks his tongue. “Have you forgotten how to speak?” 

“M-Maybe.” 

“Hm. A shame,” he says. He shifts back and parts your legs. You close your eyes as he nudges his nose against your inner thigh, his warm breath fanning over your skin. He leaves a trail of sloppy, open-mouthed kisses as he leisurely makes his way to your cunt. 

“I’ll have to pry other sounds from you instead.” 

He kisses your covered core, once, then twice, a growl leaving him when your hips desperately raise for more friction. Much to your disappointment, he revisits your inner thigh, this time nipping at it. He subjects the soft flesh to the conquest of his teeth. You prop yourself up on your elbows, intending to remove the last piece of clothing that separates you from him. He pushes you back down and mutters something incomprehensible. 

The sound of fabric tearing reverberates throughout your room. 

You’re not left wondering what he’s done for long. Blade pulls you against him by your hips, attaches his lips to your clit, and sucks.  

He’s relentless, almost as if he’s chasing his release instead of yours. His tongue licks from the bottom to the top. He feasts on you, his face pressing as close as he can get. The rapidly mounting pleasure leaves you incapable of forming coherent words or thoughts. All you can think about is Blade, how he’s grinding himself against your bed, fucking you with his tongue. 

Should you be doing this? Are you using him? Is he using you? These pesky little concerns fade into the foreground. 

He slurps your clit like it’s the best thing he’s ever tasted. Your previous sensitivity has your release imminent. You thread your hands into his hair and throw your head back. Tugging on the long locks in encouragement has him groaning against you, sending vibrations straight to your core. 

Your release builds and builds. The muscles in your thighs tense, your voice elevates in pitch, pleasure diluting your senses. 

“Gonna— mm—” 

You come on his ruthless tongue and ride out your high, ecstasy rushing throughout your body. 

Once you come back down to reality, you realize he hasn’t stopped. Your nerves are sensitive enough to almost hurt. You keen as he messily kisses your cunt. You can’t move your legs and your arms feel like jello. With some difficulty, you urge his head away. Your slick glistens along his parted lips. He greedily licks up the remnants since you’ve deprived him of the source. 

Blade takes off his overcoat. He then removes his golden shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing both garments aside. Next, he undoes the buckle that hangs across his hips. His silver pants join the heap of his clothes not long after. You drink in the sight of his toned figure. You’ve always thought him to be handsome. His sharp jawline, long, silky hair, and those blazing eyes. You never thought you’d get to see what’s beneath his clothes. Scars litter the expanse of his otherwise pale skin, their shape perplexing you. He catches you staring and gives you a look you can’t place.  

“Is it more unsightly than my mind?” 

You push yourself up, wrap your arms around his neck, and pull him close.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you murmur against his lips. “All I see is a handsome man who I want to fuck me senseless.” 

“Hm. There’s that mouth again.” 

He kisses your forehead while bringing you back down to the bed. Once your head is on the pillow, he lines himself up at your entrance. Abundant pre-cum leaks from his tip, which he smears against you, stimulating your clit in the process. You gnaw on your lower lip to stop a moan from sneaking out. He just barely pushes the head in. As it’s been a while, you hold your breath in anticipation for the stretch to come. However, he doesn’t go any further. He's just staring at you, his eyes like that of a madman. The intensity has you averting your gaze. 

Your cheek barely grazes the pillow before he speaks up, his tone chastising. “[First].” 

You feel your walls clench around nothing. 

Sheepishly, you turn your head back to face him. 

“That’s all it takes, huh?” 

You guess it did work for him twice. It isn’t your fault. Hearing someone call you by your birth name is rare. To everyone else, you’re a title or notable last name. You aren’t an individual. The characteristics that define you remain purposefully hidden from sight. You’ll just be another line on a long list, perhaps a topic for disinterested schoolchildren to write a report on. 

“Yeah,” you admit as he gradually sinks into you, “That’s all it takes.” 

He’s thick enough to make you wince, regardless of how slow he goes. Your walls struggle to accommodate his size. He stills until you recollect yourself, taking deep breaths to relax your tense body. The dull ache fades. You nod at him to continue. He pushes his cock deeper, exhaling shakily by your ear as inch after inch slips in. It’s hot and heavy inside you, occasionally twitching. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, eliciting a choked sound from him. Though you’re panting, you still have enough audacity to let your self-satisfaction show. He doesn’t chastise you or revert to teasing. No, he laughs, low and from the diaphragm. The room is almost unbearably hot and still you shudder. 

Blade slides out of you and thrusts back in. The pace isn’t too fast, but he insists on pulling all the way out and filling you to completion again. His pelvis smacks against yours as he fully stretches you. This time, he lets you throw your head back, his teeth sinking into the bruises he left earlier. You hear your headboard hit the wall from how forcefully he fucks you. It’s raw and brutal, but you love it. For once, you don’t have to think or do a thing. All he wants to do is ravish you and you’ll gladly let him. 

Your eyes shoot open when his gloved hand finds its way to your sensitive clit. He rubs sloppy circles against it, causing your walls to clench around his cock. He groans into your neck. This unrestrained expression of the pleasure you’re providing him is almost too much. You never would’ve imagined he’d be so vocal, panting hot by your ear, holding absolutely nothing back. You could spend an eternity listening to him. 

A second orgasm creeps up on you. Your moans and delighted gasps grow loud enough to let him know. He squishes your cheeks in the coolness of his gloved hand, demanding that your attention wander nowhere else. 

“Open your eyes.” 

What he’s asking of you feels personal, almost too intimate. You hesitate for a moment but ultimately give him what he wants. He rewards you by revisiting your throbbing clit, rubbing and rubbing until there are spots in your vision. You chant his name, sometimes getting through the entire word, or barely stumbling through the first few letters. He hastens his pace. 

You clench down on him hard and cry out. 

He grits his teeth from how you tighten around him throughout your orgasm. He fucks you during its duration, not letting up for a second, chasing his own end. His hands clench on your hips, digging into the flesh hard enough to leave bruises. You collapse onto your pillow, your energy spent. He has no problem adjusting you exactly how he wants. Your leg is thrown over his shoulder and you keen at the change in angle. The head of his cock finds a sensitive, spongy area that you hadn’t realized existed. You arch into him and whine. 

“B-Blade,” you whine, barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin, “Too much… It’s too much…!” 

Tears form in the corner of your eyes. One trickles down your cheek, which he promptly licks off. 

“I know. Be good,” he pants.

The insults you set aside earlier form on your tongue. They die a swift death again, for his breath hitches and he groans by your ear. 

Heat floods your tender insides. He forces your hips flush against him, his thrusts stuttering and then stopping entirely. Wave after wave of his thick cum coats your walls. It never seems to end — his throbbing cock continues releasing the viscous substance until it has no choice but to form globs that leak out of you. 

Meanwhile, he slants his lips sloppily against yours, almost growling when you whimper. He pulls back and thrusts in one last time, pushing his release as deep inside as it can go. 

You both heave desperately for air. He still doesn’t pull out, even when his cock goes soft. Something tells you he’d be content to leave it there for as long as you permit. 

“My blanket… I’ll have to wash it.” 

“Mm.” 

Blade fixes the strands of hair sticking to your temples. You tilt your head toward his hand. It’s been so long. A small, malicious fragment of yourself taunted how you’ll never enjoy another’s touch again. That your fate would be one defined by solitude. How could you take a lover with such a risk looming over your head? The last time had been disastrous. It haunts you more effectively than any ghost. 

He pulls out. 

The newfound emptiness feels strange. 

Blade rolls off of you and slides his briefs on. You watch his every movement through heavy eyelids. The scars along his chest seem like nothing compared to the amount on his back. They lay heavy along his neck, shoulders, and spine. The off-color stripes are all similar in length and width. Your stomach churns violently as you realize it must’ve been intentional. 

He must know you’re staring, but he doesn’t utter a word as he finishes getting dressed. 

A petal falls from the bouquet of purple roses Kafka gifted.

The slight movement earns his immediate attention, a reminder of how sharp his senses are. 

You grab a nearby blanket to cover your chest and crawl over, curious about what’s caught his interest. 

Blade picks up your crystal lotus. Its multiple surfaces change color depending on the angle he holds it at, refracting the low light in your room. He inspects it with furrowed eyebrows and a frown. 

“That’s from my mother,” you explain. “She was never big on gift giving, but… for whatever reason, a few years before her death, she started leaving me little trinkets like that. I have a whole drawer full of them.” 

You smile as best as you can, not wanting to be a downer. 

“Pretty, isn’t it?” 

His eyes find yours in the mirror.

He nods.

[she-whatshername]

October shenanigans with Garrick

Because it’s the month and I’m practicing writing intimacy so here we go.

By no evidence grounded in fact I firmly believe Garrick gets off on thank yous

At first I thought it was praise but now I’m convinced otherwise.

Picture it. This man lives to serve. Son of an aide to a duke, Xadens best friend and right hand. And the one who is always getting things done behind the scenes and problem solves for everything. Often times he does it without being asked. And he never expects a thank you and doesn’t need one after he completed a task. He’s just built like this.

And he’s a fucking flirt we all know this. And I can’t imagine people not throwing praises at him on how strong he is, how handsome he is, how big he is etc. and yeah he soaks it all up and loves it, but once again even in the bedroom he’s still taking care of his lovers, knowing just what they like and want, and doing so without a thank you

Then, you come along. Your personality is so syrupy sweet Garrick just couldn’t resist you. And after charming his way into your bed and tasting you he’s left you utterly wrecked and euphoric. Sitting up on your elbows you gaze into his brown eyes and he peaks up at you from between your legs

“Thank you, Garrick.” You a whisper breathlessly in appreciation. He can’t help the sound he makes when his breath hitches in his throat “what did, what did you say?”

“I said thank you. You took such good care of me, Garrick. Im sure I wasn’t the only one this week, but gods I feel like the luckiest cadet in the quadrant…are you okay?”

Oh no. You broke him

You were correct not the first, not even the first this evening. But the way those two words left your mouth and slammed into Garrick’s, you’re about to be his only one.

The appreciation, layered with the praises, his body felt so warm and the waves of pleasure buzzing onto every part of him, all over him. It was, perfect.

He spent the rest of the week visiting your room to engage in all sorts of things to get you to repeat those two words to him

And every time you he found himself dizzy with pleasure. “Thank you, baby. You’re so strong” when he helped you move the furniture in your room.

“Oh love thank you so much. It’s perfect just like you.” You share after he gives you a small gift

He’s down bad

On training days he’s watching you lift weights and move your body, and naturally he strides over with a towel to place at your side while you’re in the middle of set. You’re in public now, so he’s not expecting anything from you, he just wants to take care of you. He’s walking back towards his squad when -

“Garrick.” He’s swinging his head around the moment he hears your voice. You’re wiping the towel across your face and down your neck, you give him a breathy smile, “thank you.”

He doesn’t know what to so he just walks backward smiling and stumbles into a mat, Bodhi catching him before he landed on the fight taking place there.

“Aren’t you going to tell me thank you” Bodhi murmured with a slick smile.

Secrets out.

And once YOU notice the effect you have on him when appreciating and praising him? Oh is he in for it.

You take full advantage, giving him commands and showing your love through words. One night your feeling extra naughty and you make him sit and watch you kiss another female cadet without letting him move an inch. Afterward you let him in on the fun with a sweet “thank you love for being so patient. You were so, so good waiting for us, wasn’t he, Imogen?”

Lolol that’s all. Let me know if you want more, and with who!

[amore-reads16]

Liam Mairi x fem reader

Overview- part two

After Y/N has found out the truth about Liam, and the betrayal their entire relationship was built on, she has to navigate her nexts steps very carefully with her life at risk. Meanwhile Liam is overcome with the guilt his actions has made him feel and is trying to get Y/N alone to explain everything even if it means betraying Xaden and the revolution.

Pain and gut wrenching heart ache would be the only emotions you would be feeling if it wasn’t for the blood curdling anger that consumed your body after learning of Liam’s back stabbing betrayal. You didn’t think that you had gotten a second of sleep last night. All you could think of was that monumental moment last night when you realised your whole relationship with Liam had been built on a lie, on a plot, on a command from wingleader Xaden Riorson. When your signet had manifested you had been pulled out of class immediately and sent to an empty room, isolated, until general Sorrengail strode in only to tell you that your signet was powerful and a key asset to the academy. There hadn’t been a healer this gifted since your mother is what the general had told you. Knowledge of this could but you in a vulnerable position- people would come for you, manipulate you, use you. And they did. You were just too naive to see that. Especially when that person had such an innocent, angelic aura about him. ‘An angel sent from god himself’ you used to call him. Used. He was now the devil in your eyes, perhaps Lucifer incarnate- an angel who fell from god’s graces, banished to hell only to seek vengeance on mere mortals like yourself.

Not only had you betrayed yourself, put yourself in harms way, but you had also betrayed general Sorrengail and to think of her wrath was to think of your death. There was only one thought swirling in your mind- either way you are dead. Xaden upholding his promise to let you live would be like believing that the wyvern described in the folk stories your mother used to hide under the loose floor board in your family home was real. Fantasy and impossible. But if you were to go to general Sorrengail and tell her the truth of what had happened she would most definitely kill you for your idiocy. To reiterate, either way you were dead.

You could lie in bed debating your imminent death no longer. It was either kill or be killed. And you sure as hell wasn’t about to leave your brother to fend for himself with no family left in this twisted world. You had a plan. You had been plotting all night. You would make yourself look like a threat to Xaden and his marked group. If you appeared to be strong, a force to be reckoned with then perhaps they would all think twice about crossing you or your brother. And if plan A failed then kill or be killed would have to become your new motto. You wanted Liam dead that was sure in your mind but whether you had the actual ability to do so was another debate completely. You had loved him and to kill him would be to kill a part of your soul. Fuck him you thought. He would regret the day he ever crossed you and you would make his life a living nightmare. That would be a revenge sweeter than death.

Getting out of bed you put on your tightest fighting leathers attaching your sharpest daggers to the pouches you had installed. Slicking your hair back into a long plait you were now ready to fuel your body for the day that was ahead of you. Luckily for you the quadrant was no foreign place to you despite being a first year. Your parents would fly you and Jude here all the time when you were both little and leave you to roam the academy whilst they ‘settled business’. Therefore you had friends here, knew people and had advantages. One of those many advantages was being friends with the kitchen staff and being welcomed whenever you didn’t want to sit in the dining hall and today was one of those days- seeing Liam right now would make you want to run over and slit his pretty little throat whilst you had the chance. So isolation it is.

“Hello Di, what’s for breakfast today” you asked the older woman who was stacking pastries on plates.

“Oh hello dear what are you doing down here this morning, we haven’t seen you for a while because of that boy you’re always hanging around with” Diana replies with a suggestive look and a twinkle in her eyes which just makes your heart crush even more.

“Oh… we had a falling out and I don’t really want to see him right now” you reply with a shrug trying to seem nonchalant. She raises an eyebrow at you. “Fine” you sigh “the thought of his face makes me want to take Rhella and burn this whole fucking place down so I thought it best if I breakfast in here this morning”

The woman just laughs slightly “well dear you are always welcome here. There’s croissants over there and some of that raspberry jam you like in that jar.”

You thank her and quickly eat your breakfast. You have things to do and people to see. And one of those people happens to be Dain Aetos who you catch as he is strolling down the corridor to the training mats.

“Dain! Wait up!” You yell at the boy. He stops and turns in surprise clearly confused as to why you are running after him in the corridors. You and Dain’s signets are classified so you had been advised to keep distance from each other in the public eye to avoid any assumptions being made. But the two of you were used to each others company as you had been training together in private ever since your signet manifested. He could be a pretentious dick at times and you and Liam had spent hours mocking him behind closed doors once you had told him your secret. But despite his arrogance Dain did have the ability to be a nice guy. He was caring and although he was a sucker for the rules he looked out for those he loved, even if he had a controlling way of doing that.

“Cadet Y/LN” he replies in a serious tone “can I help you?” He gives you a wide eyes look as if to say ‘what on earth are you doing talking to me in public?!’

“I’m sorry Dain” you whisper “but I need you to do me a favour and I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if I wasn’t desperate.”

He looks apprehensive and pulls you to a quiet corner after looking around for anyone who may be watching “what is it?” He asks clearly concerned.

“I need you to try and change who I’m fighting today on the mats. I need to fight Bohdi today” you ask, your eyes pleading with a boy who is not known for breaking the rules.

Dain takes in a deep breath before shaking his head “why? Why Bodhi of all people?”

That was a good question. You could have fought Liam and gods you wanted too. But you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep a cool control and the fight would be sure to turn into a blood bath. Garrick was a third year so that was off the cards and you didn’t trust Imogen not to skin you alive just for the fun of it. And as for Xaden well, you know where to pick your fights and you are not too proud to admit he would have you on your ass with a flick of his fingers. So Bodhi it was. “I can’t tell you that right now but I can explain everything later but trust me I need to do this today” you say.

He takes another long look at you debating whether whatever is going on with you is worth bending his moral compass. Eventually he sighs again placing his hands on his hips “okay I can try but why you would want to fight Bohdi, a second year, is beyond me. Have you seen him fight? You know he’s been trained by Riorson?”

You nod slowly but it is clear that your mind won’t be changed and Dain knows this. Even though the two of you have never been close he knows you. He’s known you since you were a child due to your parents importance. And that means he knows how stubborn you can be.

“Okay” he sighs for what feels like the millionth time “just- just don’t get yourself killed Y/LN”

“Don’t worry I won’t” you smirk and then walk away ready for what is about to come.

……………………………………

Walking into the combat room your heart was pounding in your chest so heavily you thought it may be the loudest sound in the room. But you needed to keep your head high, appear unbreakable because that’s what you were- unbreakable. You would not be bent by the hands of Xaden, Liam or anyone for that matter. The hustle of the room was nothing out or the ordinary. Everyone preparing to fight or watch as other people fought- sometimes to their deaths. Striding into the room you felt a pair of eyes on you. Blue eyes to be specific and they were burning a hole into your body. Liam was across the room surrounded by the people who were cloaked last night- Xaden, Garrick, Bohdi and Imogen. Scanning your body, taking in the tight leathers you had decided to adorn this morning, his mouth dropped ever so slightly before he closed it tightly, a grim expression on his face. You noticed it. You noticed everything about him. You always had, even before he had introduced himself that fated day. Liam tuned his head to face Xaden finally removing his eyes off you and you went to stand with your friends. Courtney, Elise and Kat were the only real friends you had made. You were friendly with everyone- hated no one other than now Liam and his group. But those girls you could trust with your life and they could trust theirs with you.

“Wow someone dressed up for the occasion” Kat whistles as you walk to them.

“This wouldn’t have to do with a certain sulking blonde haired boy would it?” Courtney chimes in.

“He’s been on edge ever since we saw him this morning in the dining hall” Elise says “anything happen between you two? With him looking like a kicked puppy and you in those revenge leathers I’m assuming there has been a lovers spat?”

Biting the inside of you cheek you struggle not spilling your entire guts right here to them, but you can’t and you need to hold yourself together, so you just shrug your shoulders sparing another glance at Liam who has gone back to looking at you. You catch his eyes momentarily but it feels longer as if the world had just stopped so the pair of you could gawk at each other. He is pleading with you to let him in. To let him explain. But you won’t let him and he knows this. He can tell by the deadness that is in your eyes. It used to be that when your eyes would meet he could feel your love, your happiness, your excitement but now there was nothing but a cold, hard resentment. You look away first, focusing on your friends once more as you reply to the question just asked “lovers spat is an understatement and as for the leathers… well he’s crossed the wrong woman.”

The girls all share a look and a sly laugh before the matches are called for the day and lo and behold the last match to be read out is yours.

“Y/N Y/LN and Bodhi Duran”

Dain actually pulled through. Thank you Dain you silently praise. Xaden looks shocked. Garrick looks concerned. Imogen looks pleased. And Liam… he looks mortified. They all think that this will be your death you think. They think you are weak but they haven’t seen how you fight. Not properly. But today that will change and they will know just how much of a threat you can be.

You take to the mat avoiding Liam’s obvious gaze as he tries to make you look at him. Tries to make you pull out of the match or tap out early. But that is the last thing you will be doing. He storms off somewhere you don’t know as you don’t grant him the privilege of your attention. No that is reserved for Bodhi as the two of you take to the mat and prepare to fight. He seems apprehensive and keeps on glancing in the direction Liam has just sauntered off in. Strange you think. Shouldn’t he be happy- doesn’t he want you dead? But you can’t think about the questions that swirl around your head instead you think about the facts. They all want you dead. Xaden would have killed you last night if it wasn’t for Liam’s logical interference. You can’t fight with mercy. You must fight with wrath. And so you do. The match begins. People have gathered around your mat in particular. Perhaps because of the determined look you are sporting or maybe because of the interest the fight has gathered from Xaden’s group. But he does not stand by the mat. Xaden is on the outskirts, as normal, his gaze flicking between your fight and what appears to be cadet Sorrengail who is stood with her friends watching Sawyer fight. You and Bodhi circle each other clearly sizing each other up. You have seen Bodhi fight before and he, like Dain argued before, is good. But he has never seen you fight to your full potential. That will change now. You leap with a stealth so surprising you catch Bodhi off guard and you manage to slide your dagger across his arm. A warning. He stumbles slightly before whipping around to face you, a shocked look on his face. Your dagger is still clutched tightly in your hand as Bodhi attacks almost charging at you, but you are quicker. You slide out of his way before elbowing his back sharply, winding him slightly and causing him to fall but he quickly gets back up. He looks pissed now. Good you think. He again attacks but you doge him, this time grabbing his arm and twisting it as you turn yourself under it getting behind him shoving him to the ground with great might, you yourself landing on top of him straddling his back.

You pull at one of the daggers that he carries in the side of his jacket with the hand that is not being used to twist his arm tossing it across the floor causing some bystanders to jump out of the way. Letting go of his arm you shock your audience as you stand up allowing Bodhi to also get back up.

“That’s one” you claim and use his confusion to your benefit as you punch him in the face, hard, pulling another dagger from his front. Doing the same thing as before flinging it to the side you mock the boy who is stood still in pure shock “and now that’s two. Come on Durran I thought this would be a hard fight” you smirk evilly at him. His confused look has now been replaced by anger and embarrassment. Good, that will work to your advantage you decide.

“So that’s how we are playing Y/LN” he asks wiping the blood from his nose.

“This isn’t a game to me” you spit as you pounce again but this time he is ready and grabs your waist tossing you to the floor with ease but you quickly roll out of the fall getting back to your feet with a laugh “that’s all you’ve got?” You laugh which doesn’t bode well for you as he charges with more force.

The two of you land many blows. He slaps you in the face so hard at one point thar you swear you see starts dotting your vision. “FUCK!” Someone yells angrily from the crowd “GET HER OUT OF THERE NOW!” but you can’t place the voice and if it wasn’t for the sheer determination of winning and more importantly surviving fueling you, you think you would have passed out. But power is power you think. And mine will be seen.

“As it should quick one” Rhella chants in your head motivating you to show everyone what you are truly made of. Blood and fire. Shattered love and vengeance.

Your fight has attracted a larger crowd now and whilst you have Bodhi locked in your grasp, another of his daggers in your hand and quickly on the floor, you catch a glimpse of striking blonde hair. Liam is here watching. Assessing. Hating every moment you hope. Bodhi is down to his last dagger and the pair of you are panting on the mat heavily. This has gone on for too long, and he is getting restless, determined more than ever to beat you feeling the humiliation of the loss of his six daggers. His last dagger must be important to him you think. It’s striking and has a blue sparkling gem at its hilt and swirling patters on its handle. It’s a beauty and it will be yours. You must rely on his assumptions and trick him into a trap. So you kick your leg out which he easily grabs. The crowd gasps thinking he has you. He could easily slam your body on the floor and be on top of it within moments. But they have never seen you fight like this before. You never wanted to show what you could really do. It would only make you stand out. And standing out in a place like this only leads to your own death. That’s what your mother had indoctrinated you to believe at a younger age and as you got older you saw her words to be true. Strength is not something positive in this place, it is not praised or rewarded it is only controlled. And you will not be controlled.

Bodhi’s grip is strong but that’s just what you need as you twist your body around bringing your other leg up so quickly he can’t react. He can only take the blow you give him as you kick him in the face hard. It causes you both to fall to the floor but you had been expecting this so are not immobilised by the shock which you use to your advantage as you dive on top of his body quickly pining him down.

“Stop this!” The same voice from before shouts.

“No can do Mairi, she’s got him now” Kat replies.

You pin Bodhi’s arms about his head with one had using all the strength you have whilst you pluck the dagger out of his own hands using your other. Holding the dagger to his throat you glare down at him fiercely.

“TAP OUT” you don’t ask you demand.

Bodhi only huffs causing you to become more angry than before “I said tap out Durran” you command. To which he smirks.

“You’re feistier than you look Y/LN” he tries to bait you “no wonder Liam is obsessed with you” he smirks.

You don’t give in to his taunts and instead your hold on him becomes stronger and the grip of your thoughts around his waist becoming tighter. This pose must look overly sexual you briefly think. This thought is only reinforced as you notice Liam from the corner of your eye storming over to Dain begging him to “get her off him now before I do something I’ll regret”

You note this burst of apparent and unplaced jealousy from him and continue to stare down at Bodhi who still hasn’t tapped out . A sinister smile graces your face as you lean down close to his face. At this he starts to look extremely worried, perhaps that you will kiss him given the lack of space between your faces, a worry that is echoed by Liam as he now bellows your name in a warning “Y/N don’t you dare!”

But at the last minute you swerve your head and place your lips close to Bohdi’s ear. Everyone is now watching, including Xaden whose shadows you can already feel are dying to escape and probably strangle you to death.

“I have a message for your wingleader” you whisper lowly so only Bodhi will hear “tell him that I am not and will not be that easy to kill.”

You pull your face up offering the boy beneath you a fake sweet smile. He looks hauntingly shocked as you use your hand which is gripping his to bang them to the floor twice, tapping him out yourself. “He’s done” you say emotionlessly as you finally get off him, his dagger still in your hand. You waste no time to part through the shocked, still crowd but not before you take one long look at Liam who is seething with anger. He looks somewhere in between disgusted and impressed. You don’t smile or let any emotion slip past the mask you have now decided you need to wear around him. All eyes follow you and you head towards where Xaden is stood but before you reach him you turn around “oh Bodhi” you shout over “you can keep your daggers I only want this one” you say as you hold up the last one you took. The blue stoned beauty. You reach Xaden who peers down at you. Gods he’s tall you think.

“I left you a message. Be sure to listen to it” is all you say as you barge past him and out of the hall ignoring the chatter that has erupted with your departure. Usually people stay a little while after a match to record points and see the leader boards but you couldn’t bear to stand there today- not in the same room as him. You’d had enough for today and if you did say so yourself your point had been proved nine times over . You would be a force to be reckoned with.

Footsteps suddenly sound from behind you in a fast pace causing you to pivot only to see Liam running towards you.

“What. The. Fuck. Y/N” he says.

“What?” You ask in an annoyed tone wanting nothing more than to be away from him.

“What the fuck was that? You might of well have just had sex with him right there the way you were climbing his body” Liam spits.

This takes you back. Out of everything you just did to his friend back there, the positions you put him in wasn’t what you thought Liam would be the most pissed about. Humiliating his friend by removing every single weapon he had on him? Sure. Punching him so hard you heard his nose break? That would be understandable. Spitting the blood that had flooded your mouth after he slapped you so hard you felt your tooth unhinge itself in his face? For sure that was pretty gross and disgusting on your part. But straddling Bohdi and climbing his body like a tree was not what you thought you’d be discussing with Liam in these halls.

“Are you jealous?” You ask after a long moment of silence “because if you are you have no right to be. We sure as hell aren’t together after what happened last night. After you stabbed me in the back and sold my secrets to your bum buddy Riorson” you say to which Liam sighs angrily at as he tightens his hands into fists.

“Bum buddy?” He mumbles “you’re a child” he shakes his head but not in a playful way like he normally would have done with you. No he is pissed. “I have every right to be jealous. You mounted his body in front of everyone in those tight leathers, which by the way haven’t gone unnoticed! And then you pin his arms above his head? What the fuck is actually wrong with you?” Liam is panting now clearly getting more angry the more he relives what just happened between you and one of his closest friends.

“Me!” You shout “what is wrong with ME! How on earth you are twisting a situation which has only been caused by your betrayal is beyond me! Gods Liam you are so self centred. Do you really fucking think that I have any interest in Bohdi when I can’t even stand the fucking sight of you?” You yell at him and his face flinches with pain.

“Well maybe you could if you would just let me-“

“Explain?” You click your tongue and shake your head “there’s nothing to explain Liam . You are what you did- a lying, treacherous asshole and I will never see you as anything more than a backstabbing prick. I never want to see you again, I don’t ever want to hear your voice again, I never want to see your smile or hear you laugh! Don’t you understand Liam? You’ve broken me and I’m sorry if you don’t like the outcome of that but that’s too damn bad. ” you say before quickly pivoting away not allowing him to utter another word.

You hurry to your room locking yourself in taking a deep breath as you try to process everything that just happened. There is no point trying to understand Liam, you think, this is a wild game of survival. And hopefully you have just proven that you will not be the prey.