#and she’s like the flowers??? the bouquet you sent me???

[anotherjheastan]

Finally finished this story based on at @put-a-keep-are-you-foo-dell ‘s flower headcanon. I took a slightly different route with it. Enjoy!

I.

Jey smiled and handed Rhea the flowers. A beautiful wildflower bouquet with yellow, purple, and white flowers with some greenery. She took them, looking apprehensive.

“What are these for?” She asked, her voice flat.

“Just because. I was thinking about you and wanted to get you something nice,” Jey said.

“Oh. Thanks,” she said, studying the flowers.

“You don’t like them?” Jey asked, feeling nervous.

“No, it’s not that,” Rhea said. “They’re nice. It’s just that Dom would get me flowers after he cheated…”

“Oh,” Jey said. He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m sorry.”

“So you’re sure you’re not trying to tell me something?” Rhea asked, putting the flowers on the counter. She crossed her arms.

“No, boo,” Jey said, taking her hands. “I promise. I just wanted to show you I was thinking of you.”

Rhea exhaled and relaxed her arms. “I’m sorry, babe. I appreciate the gesture.”

“It’s okay. I don’t have to get flowers.”

“No, get what you want,” Rhea said, not meeting his eyes.

“Hey,” he said, turning her face towards his. Their eyes met. “I wanna get you something you’ll like. It’s for you.”

Rhea gave a small smile. “Thanks babe.”

“Let’s go watch our show,” Jey said, taking her hands and gently pulling her toward the couch. She smiled.

II.

“An Edible Arrangement?” Rhea grinned. “Really?”

“Do you like it?” Jey asked, smiling. He stepped inside.

“Yes. Thanks for the snack,” she said.

Rhea kissed him.

“Any time.”

III.

Rhea opened the door to an interesting package from a cookie company. She opened the box and grinned. Frosted sugar cookies were arranged in a bouquet. The frosting was a variety of colors. She grabbed the note.

Sorry I couldn’t be with you this weekend. I miss you. Thinking of you always.

Love, Jey

Rhea took a picture with the cookies and sent it to Jey.

Can’t wait to see you 💙 thank you for the cookies. Miss you more.

IV.

Jey held up a bag of fun-size Snickers and a bag of fun-size Skittles. He looked defeated.

“I tried to make something cute, but it didn’t work out. I didn’t know hot glue could get that hot,” Jey said.

Rhea smiled, taking the candy. She frowned at his bandaged finger. “Thanks babe. But you gotta be careful.”

“I’ll leave the crafts to the craft people,” Jey said, making his way over to the couch.

V.

Rhea walked backstage holding her title up. She did it. She finally did it. After nine long months, she reclaimed her Women’s World Championship. There was some scattered applause. She grinned and started heading toward the locker room. Jey appeared, an entourage telling him he didn’t have long to get to his spot.

“Congrats boo! You did it!” Jey said, picking her up and spinning around with her. He set her back down.

Rhea giggled. “Thanks. But you better go. You’re up next.”

“I had to give you these first,” Jey said, handing her two red roses. “For my two-time champ.”

Rhea smiled as she took them. “Thanks babe.”

She kissed him. “Good luck.”

He winked at her. “Yeet!”

She watched as he was whisked away with the entourage. She smelled her two roses and headed to the locker room, happy and relieved.

VI.

Jey hobbled backstage, the World Heavyweight Championship resting on his shoulder. It had been a long and tough match, but he did it. He won. His eyes locked with Rhea and he smiled. Rhea was standing there with a beautiful bouquet of blue roses, her Women’s World Championship around her waist.

“Congrats, babe! I’m so proud of you!” Rhea said.

“Thank you,” he said, his eyes welling up with tears again.

They shared a quick kiss and he took the roses.

“I can’t believe you got me flowers,” Jey said. “I love them.”

“Well, you know, someone’s been getting me flowers and other stuff in bouquets. They’re growing on me,” Rhea said, shrugging.

“Good to know,” Jey said.

“We gotta take pictures with our titles,” Rhea said.

“We’ll definitely be doing that,” Jey said.

[myficprompts]

what about a s2 kanthony au where it’s near the start of the season (maybe before the races?) anthony intends to send flowers to edwina to show how he’s a great suitor to consider but as he’s advising what to put on the card (either himself writing it at the florist or what he’s telling his butler or whoever), he’s distracted because he’s thinking of kate and how to best her or something and because he’s distracted, he advises the flowers are to be for Miss Kate Sharma.

And it’s the first bouquet that Kate ever received and she’s confused because isn’t he trying to court her sister but he put such a sweet note and she’s softened by it. She assumes it’s purpose was to soften her to garner favor with Edwina but she still appreciates her first bouquet and it’s proper that she thanks him regardless. then at the races, Kate approaches him and thanks him for them and Anthony is just like ???? Flowers?

And Kate’s like “yes my lord, the bouquet you sent to me at lady danbury’s house this morning? The Lillies and tulips?”

And he’s like “oh! Oh yes. Yes. Those flowers. That I sent to you. Yes. Of course. You’re welcome.”

And that’s when his plans for the season change.

[barbiebiddie]

this is so cute 😭 (even tho katya doesnt really like flowers)

[rafey-baby]

older!rafe can’t always be mean to his delicate flower, can he?

18+ mdni!

c/w: fluff with a little bit of angst in the beginning, rafe feeding sensitive!reader pasta, slight subspace, smut: oral (f receiving), overstimulation, use of daddy & dad

wc: 2k

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Sock-covered feet pad along the hardwood floors when she finally hears the lock of the front door turning. Rafe’s home later than usual— a fact she’s entirely too aware of since she’s been impatiently waiting for him to return ever since he left her this morning without so much as a goodbye.�� 

Usually, she’d stir awake to him smearing kisses all over her face and mumbling sweetened words about how much he’s going to miss her during his meetings— sometimes even wake her up with his cock prodding at her entrance before fucking her all sleepy and sloppy until she’s a sobbing mess.   

However, she assumes he was still mad at her because she forgot to let him know she was going out for drinks after her lecture before her battery had died. Therefore, she hadn’t received his several calls or the texts filled with concern and only a few hours later, did she remember that she’d never actually sent the message regarding her whereabouts.  

When he came to pick her up after she’d borrowed her friend’s phone in order to reach him, he was clearly displeased; merely muttering out a “ask you to do one thing and you can’t even do that. You know how fuckin’ worried I was?” and crudely telling her to go sleep in the guest room because “daddy doesn’t feel like dealing with your shit tonight”, which had resulted in wet droplets surfacing to her waterline while she kept apologizing over and over again, but to no avail.   

In the morning, she’d woken up to a tear-stained pillowcase and a headache. And when she tiptoed over to the bathroom, she realized that the entire house was desolate; he hadn’t even left a note.   

Therefore, she’s not exactly sure how to approach him, hesitant in her movements before she sees him in front of her in all his glory.   

“Hi,” her voice is quiet, but her forlorn face lights up nonetheless. 

Rafe is in the process of mindlessly kicking off his shoes when he looks up; a tired smile tugging at his lips when she practically tumbles into his arms in a greeting.  

“Missed you,” she mumbles against his crisp button up when he rests his big hands on her hips in an attempt to steady her.   

“Missed you too,” he murmurs into her hair. “Got you somethin’,” he reluctantly pulls away in order to present her with a bouquet of pink lilies; her favorites.  

“What’s this for?” her moony eyes stare up at him in bewilderment.  

“Drove past a flower shop…guess they made me think of you,” he admits, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek; confusing her to no end.  

“But I thought—” she utters out, hesitant to take the flowers she feels unworthy of.   

“That I was mad at you?”   

She nods, looking up at him with guilt swimming in her eyes.  

He lets out a sigh.  

“Listen, I was, uh, maybe a little too harsh on you last night, okay? I know how forgetful you can be. Was just worried when you weren’t home and didn’t answer your phone until hours later. Thought somethin’ happened, you know?” he explains with a calmness that placates her racing mind as she accepts his gift.   

“I know, m’sorry. Won’t happen again, promise. Texted you today the second I was home, right?”   

“You did,” he confirms as he peels off his suit jacket before sniffing the air. “Smells good, what’re you making?”   

“Oh, I made you dinner,” she says bashfully, almost as if waiting for his approval.  

“You did? All by yourself?” his brows climb his forehead in surprise.   

She nods, a soft smile on her lips before he’s ushering her towards the kitchen and plucking a glass vase from the top shelf for her. 

Usually, he’s the one cooking for them since she’s not greatest in the kitchen, always so tired after studying the whole day, she’d probably forget the stove on and cause some sort of a fire due to her absentminded nature. Therefore, he prefers to prepare his girl a nurturing meal whenever he doesn’t have to work late.   

“How was uni today?” he asks as she sets the now flower-filled vase on their dining table.  

“A lot. Was kinda stressed the whole day cause I have so much homework and reading to do, don’t know how I’m supposed to have time for all of it. And then have this group project and the deadline for this essay approaching and…I don’t think my brain works anymore,” she sighs out when she peers down at the steaming bowl of spaghetti Bolognese he places on the counter.   

“Good thing you don’t need to worry that head of yours over anythin’ with me. Let dad do the thinking for you, yeah?” Rafe’s voice is as smooth as honey, causing her to blink up at him— something cottony dusting over her mind in response to his sugary cadence.   

Strong arms lift her up and place her on the marble countertop before he settles right between her thighs, like a puzzle piece she’s been missing the entire day; tall frame hovering over her even as she’s practically perched on a pedestal.   

Then, he’s picking up the plate in the most casual manner and contently shoving a forkful of pasta into his mouth before groaning in satisfaction.   

“Shit, this is amazin’,” he praises around the mouthful.   

She mumbles out a flustered thank you, her thoughts all over the place since she thought he’d still be mad, but then suddenly he’s not. In fact, he’s seemingly in a great mood.   

“Did you eat yet?”  

“No, was, um…waiting for you. Didn’t wanna eat alone,” her volume is nearly inaudible. 

He stops chewing.   

“Waitin’ for me, huh?” he rasps out before he’s lifting the fork closer to her mouth.   

She looks up at him, puzzled.   

“Open,” he orders and she has no choice but to obey— let him feed her because truthfully, whenever she’s around him she gets a little dumb; can’t really focus on anything except his low drawl and gemstone eyes.   

“Good, right?”  

She hums her agreement around the bite, barely registering that some of the tomato sauce stains her chin in the process.   

“Always so messy, huh?” he tuts disapprovingly, even if he’s the one holding the fork.   

However, before her mushy brain has the time to even comprehend what he’s doing, he’s laving the flat of his tongue under her mouth; cleaning it up for her.   

“There we go,” he murmurs as he rubs a thumb over the spot for good measure.   

She swallows.   

“Want some water?” he asks and she nods, all of a sudden unable to utter out words.  

Then, he’s tipping a glass of ice-cold water to her lips, carefully watching her gulp down the liquid before he decides she’s had enough— withdrawing the cup in order to drink some of it himself.    

He continues feeding her every other bite and making casual conversation, all the while she feels herself softly slipping into a very specific headspace. And before she realizes, he’s placing the empty dish in the sink with a slight clatter; their bellies full and happy.    

She doesn’t think she wants to eat by herself ever again.  

Then, her foggy mind registers him in front of her again as he pulls her closer— warm palms slipping under her top and his thumbs idly smoothing over her tummy while she quietly stares at him with hearts for eyes.  

“You put this tiny thing on just for me, hm?” he questions as his eyes drop down to her cleavage; the pale pink lace doing a very poor job of concealing what’s underneath since she’s forgone a bra (and pants), as she usually does whenever she’s merely loitering around their home.  

“Look so pretty in this,” his dreamy voice rumbles as he swipes a thumb over a covered nipple, causing her to let out a faint gasp at the sudden contact.  

“Ray…” she hums out while he keeps rubbing over the squishy part of her body he knows gets her buzzing.  

“Hm? You feelin’ floaty already?” he asks with a gentle cadence. And she’s not sure how he always seems to know just the right words to say in order to turn her into clay.   

“Yeah, missed you so much,” her hazy eyes flicker over his face while he simply gazes at her, before he’s smearing his mouth on hers.   

There’s something hungry, primal in the way he groans against her lips— causing a whimper to escape her throat in response.  

Then, all of a sudden, he’s lifting her over his shoulder as if she weighs nothing more than a single paperclip; making her squeak out a sound of surprise when he jokingly smacks her ass while walking out of the room before throwing her on the bed.   

“Let daddy say hi to his favorite girl, yeah?” he coaxes her before he’s prying her thighs apart and nuzzling his face into her cunt through the material of her panties; nose bumping against her clit, making her shift closer to him.  

“Missed my pussy so much, you know? Wanted to fuck you nice ’n slow last night but you never came home.”   

“M’sorry, daddy,” she can’t help but whimper out when his warm tongue licks over the already dampening fabric of her underwear.   

“Yeah? You gon’ make it up to me? Let me eat you ’till I forgive you?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want,” she blabbers, a whine leaving her vocal cords when he plucks the soaked through material to the side and blowson her sensitive cunt.   

“Shit, you’re so wet already,” he says in awe, letting spit drip down his tongue and onto her folds anyway. Then, he’s wrapping his lips around her clit, making her cry out because she can already feel her orgasm lingering underneath the surface.  

“Need to come, can I? Please m’gonna— ” she says, almost in a trance; already so wound up. And the way he’s practically torturing her achy button with his mouth isn’t really helping.  

After he’s hummed his agreement, she’s not able to hold it in any longer— his tongue poking at her opening when the knot in her belly unfolds. She’s shaking, thighs yearning to close, if not for his strong arms holding them open as he groans around her, seemingly lost in a daze with her taste and smell practically suffocating him.  

Since he knows how insatiable she tends to be, he refuses to pull away from between her thighs. And two more orgasms later, she’s a whimpering muddle; desperately trying to drag her hips away from his unrelenting hold. However, he’s entirely too strong and she doesn’t stand a chance. 

“Ray, s’too much, need a break—” she complains, eyes beginning to turn watery in response to the overwhelming pressure.  

However, despite her protests, he doesn’t stop. Instead, he begins to mess with her entirely too sensitive clit with his fingers now— pressing and pulling and making her whine as tears trickle down her cheeks and she tries to fruitlessly wiggle away from him once more.    

“Nah, you’re good, dad wants you to give him a few more, think you can do that?” he mumbles against her sticky folds, stuffing the tip of his tongue into her weepy hole as an effort to persuade her.  

“I don’t know if I can—”  

“Shh, jus’ wanna make you feel nice, you don’t want me to?” he feigns hurt when he lifts up his head, beginning to mouth over the soft skin of her inner thighs to pacify her; his slight stubble tickling her in the process and making her twitch.  

“No, I do, I do…”   

“Then quit whinin’ and let me take care of you, hm? Show you how much I love you,” he coaxes her to give in. And when he puts it like that, she thinks it does sound rather romantic. 

[darling-flora]

feather

max x yn!singer - social media au

fc: sabrina carpenter

part 2 : HERE

notes: im sorry callum turner for making you the bad guy please forgive me 🤞 also in this world dua lipa is not a famous singer 👍 my first max smau let me know what ya think !!! ❣ rt's are appreciated !!!

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enews

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enews Y/n L/n and Callum Turner seem to of called it quits after two years of dating, only a day after Callum Turner was seen making out with mystery woman. Turner was seen with the woman the following day while L/n was seen at the airport headed for Monaco to visit friend Taylor Zakhar Perez who is filming a movie. ➡️

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enews Y/n L/n was reportedly sent picture of Turner and the mystery woman (Now identified as Dua Lipa) by friends and L/n reportedly packed all her belonging and had them sent to Monaco to stay with a friend. ➡

↳enews NEW INFORMATION !!! Callum and Dua were reportedly hooking up before Y/n L/n started dating Turner and after they made it official Turner broke things off with Dua Lipa ➡ ↳enews Dua Lipa was upset by the split and "she resented y/n for being with Callum, so when Callum was at a party that Dua was also at, she made it her mission to win him back"

user2 the fact that dua likes y/n's posts and has publicly complimented y/n's music..... im sick to my stomach for her omg

user3 he is actually so dumb for cheating on her for 1 but also CHEATING ON A SINGER SONGWRITER ??????

user4 emails i cant send deluxe & the next album is gonna go CRAZYYYY

user5 he never really seemed to give the same energy she gave....

user6 going to a different country after a break up is kinda real

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, user1 and 9,559,944 others

yourinstagram It would be sooooo crazy if i moved to France 🤭

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user1 ITS BEEN A LIKE 2 MONTHS BABE WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?????

taylorzakharperez It's nice in Nice France 🤭

liked by yourinstagram

user2 MOVED TO FRANCE ???

whitneypeak an angel 😇

liked by yourinstagram

user3 making more songs to add to the album of the century ??

jennaortega pretty pretty pretty face 😍

liked by yourinstagram

user4 "Big is moving to paris" but it's "y/n' is moving to france"

user5 doing hot girl sh't !!

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dualipa

Liked by user1, user2 and 459,944 others

dualipa he’s sooooooo crazy in love with my brown eyes 💌

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user1 this just pissed me off

user2 the letter emoji..... yall need to hold me back

user3 you really thought you ate this....

user4 the caption ? stream obsessed by olivia rodrigo

user5 he also loved her blue eyes girl, you are not special

user6 right..... anyways

comments have been limited

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yourinstagram

Liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 10,559,944 others

yourinstagram I love Monaco nights, mornings in France with my babies Benny and Björn + a cute date night 🤍

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user1 HUH DATE ????

user2 shes on a date with me btw !!!

user3 the sheer white dress is eatttiinnngggg

user4 oh mother

user5 don't know if i wanna be you or with you ???

user6 y/n stays 🔛🔝 !!!

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deuxmoi

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deuxmoi Y/n L/n a popstar who has moved recently to Nice, France after a messy break up. While the singer's been fairly private about the outings, she has been spotted around Nice and Monaco on dates with a popular athlete.

Who do we think think the singer is seeing ?

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user1 pics ???? proof???

↳user2 i know someone that works at a place they got dinner at but they didn't see who she was with, but she left with a bouquet of flowers soooo she could be with someone but we don't know who 🤷‍♂️

user3 its an f1 driver because they are coming off break soon....

user4 i think its max verstappen, like two weeks after they were at the same party his posts on insta changed..... like for the better yk the past few months his posts have been eatingggg

↳user5 not the girlfriend effect having an effect on his insta 😭

user6 i wont believe it till is see it 🤷‍♀️

user7 both max and charles are in her likes so who knows ??

user8 deuxmoi could be LYINGGGGG but we'll see....

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, maxverstappen and 7,559,944 others

yourinstagram im so sorry for your loss... ❤😊

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user1 the "the kind of girlfriend God gives you young, so you'll know loss the rest of your life" tee is so cvnty omfg 🤭

user2 LYRICS ???? THE 3RD PIC ???

user3 there are so many layers to the first and last pic

francisca.cgomes cuties ❤

↳yourinstagram allllll you 😘

user4 face economy mama !!!!

user5 in love with youuuuuu

user6 soft launchhhhh 🤭

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maxverstappen Close Friends story

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charles_leclerc ??????

maxverstappen what ?

charles_leclerc nothing.... 😏

landonorris maxjpg when ?

maxverstappen i could consider it 🤔

yourinstagram we have 4 children....

maxverstappen it's a full time job 😭 maxverstappen quitting racing to become a stay at home dad maxverstappen a chubby stay at home dad

yourinstagram i fully support that 😊 yourinstagram a happy max is all i want!!

maxverstappen god i love you maxverstappen wanna go on a boat ?

yourinstagram love youuuuu 🤭 yourinstagram yes !!!! mr rich man lets go 🌊

maxverstappen you are also rich....

yourinstagram well.....

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max1.jpg

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 10 others

max1.jpg my jpg account is going to end up being a y/n fan page

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landonorris bros down bad

↳charles_leclerc Down tremendously ↳max1.jpg im not ashamed to admit it 🤷‍♂️

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YnLnUpdates

Liked by username1, username2 and 869,944 others

YnLnUpdates In a recent interview Y/n CONFIRMS EMICS Deluex Emails i cant send fwd: Out March 30th !!!! talks about moving to france, traveling and confirms she's in a relationship !!

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user1 her saying her cats are the most important stamp of approval.... she is so unserious i love her

user2 “Or someone was holding you back ?” the interview kinda ate with that 🤭

user3 i guess deuxmoi was right....

user4 her smile when she was talking about him 🥰 !!!!

user5 but who is he mama 🙄

user6 i mean we knew that, i just wanna know who he is 😫

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maxverstappen story

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yourinstagram no one will ever know i took these pictures 🤭

maxverstappen i regret to inform you my love, but people are already making speculations....

yourinstagram HUH ???? yourinstagram FROM WHAT ???

maxverstappen no clue honestly maxverstappen maybe the vibes of the pictures

yourinstagram really max... yourinstagram the "vibes"

maxverstappen yeah, they have "my girlfriend took these pictures and wanted to post them but because no one knows we’re dating she cant post them, so she posted them on my story instead��� vibes

yourinstagram i didn't know that was a vibe that could exist

maxverstappen it is !! maxverstappen and those pictures have them

yourinstagram cant stand you sometimes...

maxverstappen sure 🤥 maxverstappen you on your way ?

yourinstagram leaving soon..... 🫣

maxverstappen cant wait to see your face 😘

yourinstagram 😭🫶 yourinstagram stoppp your cute 🤭 yourinstagram omw 🏎️💨

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yourinstagram

Liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 10,559,944 others

yourinstagram emails i can’t send fwd: is out now 💌 so is the feather music video !!!!! I’m very excited about these new songs and i hope u are too x love you all so much💗 tell me ya favorite part of the video!!

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user1 the way men never survive your music videos is so iconic

arianagrande wow wow wow the most talented girl !!! 🤍

↳yourinstagram ty ty !!! 😭❤

user2 things i wish you said and opposite HURT my feelings

whitneypeak HOTTIE !!!!!

liked by yourinstagram

user3 album of the century 😁

jennaortega ATEEEEEEE ❣

liked by yourinstagram

user4 feather is your next pop hit TRUST 🤞

user5 MOTHER 🤩

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MV1Updates

Liked by username1, username2 and 569,944 others

MV1Updates During a Pre-Season testing interview when asked how his break Max causally mentioned he has a girlfriend !!

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user1 them giggling 😭

user2 of course this is how we find out he's got a gf 😭

user3 you missed were he said "I talk about her so much it just slipped out"

↳user4 stop thats so cute omg 😭 ↳user5 when they are "public public" he's gonna talk about her every interview i just know it

user6 but who is it ????

user7 "i did? oh shit" is KILLING MEEEE

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maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,201,933 others

maxverstappen1 P2 today 👊 A bit unlucky with the safety car but nevertheless, learned a lot and another One-Two finish. This is a very good team result here in Baku redbullracing SChecoPerez 💪

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user1 good race king !!!

yourinstagram i can feel a win coming in Miami !!

↳user2 Y/N ???? ↳user3 IS SHE GOING TO THE RACE ??? ↳user4 shes gonna perform in Orlando so i wouldn't be surprised if she went to the race !! ↳maxverstappen1 only Miami 😔 ? ↳yourinstagram is it to soon to say you'll win every race ? ↳maxverstappen1 Nope !! That sounds perfect !!! ↳user5 the flirting is gonna kill me ↳user6 chat is this flirting ????

user7 keep your head up 🦁👑

user8 MY GOAT

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YnLnUpdates

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YnLnUpdates Y/n's speech after singing a cover of "Hopelessly Devoted To You". "What a pleasure it is to here today, I feel so lucky to be here in front of all you beautiful people. There have been so many changes in my life recently that have been a blessing in disguise, so i wanna say a huge thank you for sticking by me I'm looking forward to all the good to com, so thank you for everything love you" after the speech then pointed towards the vip tent; waved and then made a heart !!!

Who do we think the heart is for ? 👀

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user1 WHAT ????

user2 there were so many people in the vip tent we'll never know 😩

user3 seeing her happy after the last few months makes me so happy

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YnLnUpdates

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YnLnUpdates Y/n and Max Verstappen (HUH?????) share an embrace after Y/n's performance in Orlando !

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user1 WHAT ????

user2 the emoji 😭

user3 now we know who the heart was for 😮

user4 WHO KNEW HE HAD IT IN HIM ???

user5 NOOOOOOOOOOO

user6 wait this is actually CRAZY ???

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, maxverstappen and 8,559,944 others

yourinstagram ORLANDO !!!! The biggest festival I've had the pleasure of performing at and the energy was insane !!!! The first time I got to perform songs from the deluxe and to hear you guys sing every word was a special moment 😪 THANK YOUUUU all for the love , love love love you alllll ❤

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user1 the popstar levels are out of this world 🌎

user2 YOUR MAN IN MAX ????

maxverstappen What a show😘!!!

↳yourinstagram thank you thank you 😊 ↳user3 this is still crazy 😭

user4 you KILLED it !!!

user5 the best performance i've got to go too EVER

user6 it was an honor to see your face on the big screen 🧎‍♀️

user7 NEED more songs like feather !! such a good song live 😫

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YnLnUpdates

Liked by user1, user2 and 869,944 others

YnLnUpdates Y/n's recent instagram stories!!

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user1 STOPPPP😭😭 they are so cute

user2 the cat.... he's so real

user3 #NEEDTHAT is CRAZZZYYYY (same)

user4 "who's this diva" oh she loves that man... 🥰

user5 crying watching max win is what i do too !!

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MV1Updates

Liked by username1, username2 and 569,944 others

MV1Updates During Max's post race interview, Max was asked what it was like have Y/n L/n in attendance "It's nice to have her at a race, I've wanted her at a race for a while and our schedules finally lined up, [....] hopefully she'll come to more, [....] it gives me extra motivation to win, I wanted to impress her (laughs)."

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user1 he was sooooooo smiley talking about her omgggg 😫❤

user2 the way they giggle and blush when they talk about each other is so cute 🤭

user3 can't wait for they love songs !! he's so in love

use04r love this for him !!

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f1gossip

Liked by username1, username2 and 959,944 others

f1gossip Max Verstappen and popstar Y/n L/n were seen sharing a kiss while on a date in Miami after his win.

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user1 bro they've probably been together for MONTHS

user2 they are so cute together 😫

user3 LEAVE THEM ALONE 😭🙏

user4 that should be MEEE (with both of them 🤫)

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yourinstagram

Liked by taylorzakharperez, maxverstappen and 10,559,944 others

yourinstagram Orlando to Miami !!! and what a drive by max from P9 to P1 BABY so proud of you, can't wait to see you win again and again !!!! 🏆🥇🍾

(also if i see pictures of me CRYING during the podium TRUST you will hear from my lawyer).........

(kidding😙❤)

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user1 she's truly living my dream life

maxverstappen Are we gonna ignore how i told you that you were gonna cry and you called me a liar....

↳yourinstagram yes 😁 ↳maxverstappen I'm not gonna ignore that I was right ↳yourinstagram booking a different hotel room 🙄 ↳maxverstappen WAIT ↳maxverstappen I'm sorry ❤ ↳maxverstappen I'll make it up to you ↳yourinstagram 😏? ↳landonorris WHOAAAA get a room 🤢 ↳user2 ik they get DOWNNNNN

user3 this is kinda my superbowl ☺

whitneypeak living the life mama !!

liked by yourinstagram

user4 so pretty 🎀

lilymhe beautiful girl !! ☺

user5 max on the beach 😍

francisca.cgomes can max fight ? 😁

↳maxverstappen stop trying to steal my girlfriend.... ↳yourinstagram she already got me 😝

user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar with your game 😦

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maxverstappen1

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 8,201,933 others

maxverstappen1 Simply… lovely!

What a great time in Miami, I would like to point out I am looking at yourinstagram in the second picture 👍 Had to put on a show with her watching. 😁

But a very strong race 🙌

Thank you, Miami - You have been great🌴

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user1 MY GOAT !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

yourinstagram hot 🥵

↳yourinstagram gnawing at the bars of my enclosure 😩 ↳landonorris 🤮 ↳yourinstagram you always got something to say 😒

user2 STOPPPPP he's gonna talk about her every second.... i love it 😝

user3 i gotta know if y/n is the one helping with the pics...

↳yourinstagram only a little.... ↳yourinstagram he wants my stamp of approval on them ↳user3 i bet he likes it when you approve of all the pics ? ↳yourinstagram well yes 😗 ↳user3 someone likes praise...... 😁🤫

user4 he's really setting the standard!! obsessed boyfriend is just too good!

user5 the first pic 🤯 what a man

user6 i kinda need them both 🙂

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max1.jpg

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 1,335,690 others

max1.jpg best way to celebrate a win in miami is with you 🤍

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user1 im so single

yourinstagram love youuuuu 💞🌙💞

↳max1.jpg 😘😘

user2 BRO how did he bag Y/N L/N ?????

↳user3 he's a loverboy....

landonorris why don't you take pictures of me ?

↳max1.jpg you dont look like y/n and do what she does ↳landonorris okay i didn't need to know that.. ↳user4 😨😨 ↳user5 WAITTTTT HUHHHH????

user6 INSANE face card holyyyyyyyyyyy

user7 they are such cuties 🫶

user8 they’re truly the cutest couple 🥺

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part 2 : HERE

[theostrophywife]

poison paradise.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

song inspiration: toxic by omido.

author's note: smutty unhinged theo won the poll. here’s your silly little treat. this came to me in a dream proving that even my subconscious isn't safe from theodore. this is pure filth, but ya'll already know that that's what i do best 🤪

The taste of cherry chapstick lingered on your tongue as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Lost in euphoria, you cried out just as a wave of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you to the depths of sensual self-indulgence. 

Back arching off the bed. Fingers gripping the sheets. Moans echoing off the walls. 

This was hedonism at its finest. 

The heady scent of sweat, skin, and sex permeated in the air long after your orgasm passed, inducing you into a foggy haze as you scrambled to anchor yourself back to the present. Between your legs, your girlfriend lifted her head up with a pleased smirk and pressed a chaste kiss against your lips. 

The kiss tasted like cum and cherries, a sweet and intoxicating combination that sent your head spinning. Hannah hummed, her pretty doe eyes focused on you while your own fluttered open. 

“Babe, I’ve really got to get to practice now,” she whispered softly. “I’m late enough as it is.” 

You chuckled, twirling a strand of her red hair between your fingers. “Whose fault is that? You’re the one who dragged me in here, love.” 

Hannah grinned sheepishly as she pulled your red and gold skirt down. “Can you blame me? I can’t control myself when you’re strutting about in your cheer uniform.” 

“Then go out there and give me something to cheer about, babe. I expect a win against Slytherin tomorrow.” 

“If Potter doesn’t kill me first for being late,” she said with a final kiss to your cheek. “See you after practice?”

You nodded as you tossed her jersey over. “I’ll be here.” 

After taking a much needed shower, you sat in front of the vanity and blasted music as you diligently adhered to your skincare routine. The best thing about having a girlfriend was that you shared everything. Since dating Hannah, your makeup, clothes, and shoe options doubled overnight. 

As you combed through your hair, a sudden knock at the door caught your attention. You figured it was just a courtesy from Hannah’s roommate. Merlin knows that the poor witch had walked in on you and your girlfriend in countless compromising positions. 

Tightening the scarlet robe around your waist, you sauntered over to the door, fully expecting Emma to greet you from the other side. Instead, a looming figure eclipsed the doorway. You were surprised to find none other than Theodore Nott staring back at you. 

While you two weren’t exactly the best of friends given the rivalry between your houses, you and Theo were civil. You sat beside each other in Herbology and occasionally shared a laugh every time you caught him muttering sarcastic remarks under his breath about the ridiculous bloody plants that Professor Sprout had you wrangling during class. 

“Well, what do we have here?” you teased, cocking your head at the dead eyed Slytherin. “A serpent in the lion’s den? What brings you behind enemy lines, Theo?”  

Theo smiled back in response, shuffling a bit and allowing a glimpse of the wine bottle and bouquet of roses cradled in his arms. “Waiting for my girlfriend to leave so I can set this up for our anniversary.” 

You grinned. “Oh, how romantic!” You had always been a sucker for cheesy gestures. It was the hopeless romantic in you.  “Come in, then.” 

To his credit, Theo kept his eyes firmly on your face as you ushered him inside the room. Taking the hint, you quickly excused yourself to the bathroom and changed into something a little less revealing than your silk robe. When you came out, Theo was sprinkling rose petals on the bed. 

“Those are gorgeous,” you fawned over the flowers. “You’re definitely getting laid tonight.” 

Theo smirked in response as he set the vintage wine bottle into a fancy crystal ice bucket. “That’s the plan.” 

Slipping into your fuzzy slippers, you cocked your head at the arrangement. “Wait. I think you set it up on the wrong side. Emma’s bed is over there.” 

Theo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know. This is for Hannah.” 

Whatever warm, fuzzy feeling his sweet gesture invoked suddenly soured at the mention of your girlfriend’s name. “What do you mean it’s for Hannah?” 

“Hannah,” Theo repeated slowly. “As in, my girlfriend, Hannah.” 

The words hit you like the Hogwarts Express. Surely, Theo was mistaken. He had to be. That was the only explanation. “This can’t be right. I’m sure I heard you wrong. You can’t be dating Hannah.” 

The confusion in your face was mirrored in Theo’s features. “And why is that?” 

“Because I’m dating Hannah.” 

Theo stared at you. You stared back. The room fell silent as the declaration hung heavy in the air. 

“Wait,” he backtracked, furrowing his brows. “What? That’s not possible.” 

“We’ve been dating since term started.” 

“We’ve been dating since summer,” Theo countered. Disbelief dawned over his handsome features. “This is for our three month anniversary.” 

Desperate to make sense of the situation, you pulled out your phone and scrolled through your photo album. It didn’t take long to find a recent picture of you and Hannah. “See?” you said, pointing at the screen. “This is us sharing a hot fudge sundae in Hogsmeade just last weekend.” 

Theo’s mouth gaped open as he pulled out his phone in response, scrolling through his pictures just as you had done moments ago. “This is us swimming in the lake last July.” 

The photo of your girlfriend smiling up at the camera while Theo’s arms wrapped around her bikini clad body made your stomach plummet. The confirmation left a bitter taste on your tongue. There was no reason for Theo to be making this up, which left only one possible conclusion. Hannah was dating both of you. At the same time. 

You pursed your lips. “Hannah played us both.” 

Theo looked about as dejected as you felt. “I can’t believe I didn’t realize it,” he muttered to himself. 

“All that tension between you during the quidditch match,” you recalled. The lingering looks that Hannah and Theo shared during last month’s scrimmage flashed before your very eyes. In hindsight, it was obvious that there was more to it than rivalry. 

“You know, I think I saw her kiss you on the cheek in the halls once, but she said that the two of you were just really close.” 

“Oh, we are,” you said rather bitterly. “She’s kissed a lot more than my cheeks. Gods, how could I have been so stupid?” 

“You’re not stupid,” Theo said softly. “How could we have known? Outside of Herbology, the two of us don’t really interact. We’re in different houses and our social circles rarely overlap. If you think about it, it’s actually the perfect plan.” 

“Yes, bravo to our girlfriend for being the cleverest fucking liar in the castle.” You winced at the title. "Correction, ex-girlfriend."

Nott nodded in agreement. "Definitely ex-girlfriend."

"What a bloody mess."

Theo rubbed his temples. “Well, fuck.” The sentiment of total and utter confusion was one you knew all too well. “I am way too sober for this.” 

Without a word, he swiped the bottle of wine from the crystal bucket and popped it open. You stared at him with slight bewilderment, which he responded to with a nonchalant shrug. “What? It’s not like I’m going to drink this with Hannah now after I found out that she’s been lying to me for three whole months.” 

While Theo was taking the perfectly understandable approach of getting absolutely pissed off his arse, you weren’t willing to take the hit so easily. You were angry. Correction, you were fucking livid. Seething in the heat of your fury, you snatched the wine bottle from Theo’s grasp and chugged a good amount. 

“That’s a vintage from my family’s vineyard. You’re supposed to sip slowly to really appreciate the flavor—“ Theo grimaced as you leveled him with a glare. “Or drown yourself in it. That’s fine, too.” 

You swayed on your feet as you gestured dramatically. “I can’t believe she cheated on me!” 

Who the fuck did Hannah think she was? You didn’t need this bullshit. She was the one who chased after you. Before she pursued you, you were perfectly fine ruling this school under your thumb, flashing pretty smiles and innocent doe eyed looks to the unsuspecting masses. You were head cheerleader, for fuck’s sake! You could’ve had your pick of boys and girls in this whole bloody castle. Even worse, Hannah dragged Theo into this too. While the Slytherins certainly had a reputation, he seemed sweet if not a little sardonic and cynical at times.

”I can’t believe she cheated on you.” You added, surveying the now tainted roses and wine. Indignation weighed heavily on every word. You and Theo were both hot as fuck and a complete catch. Neither of you deserved this. “We can’t let her get away with this.” 

Theo sighed in response, taking the bottle from you and drinking a decent amount before wiping his wine stained lips with the back of his hand. “If I’m being honest, this isn’t the first time a relationship has imploded on me. Usually, it’s my fault. But I can’t say I’ve ever gotten cheated on. My ego’s taken a little bit of a blow, but what can we do? She fooled us both.” 

“What can we do?” You repeated incredulously. “Obviously, you haven’t dealt with a Gryffindor’s wrath before. This is a matter of pride, Theo. She hit us where it hurts the most. I say we hit her back.” 

Theo blanched, his watercolor eyes glazed from the alcohol. The wine was no joke. You never would’ve known it from the smooth taste, but this shit was strong. “As upset as I am, I hardly think violence is the answer. My mum told me to never raise a hand against a lady and I don’t intend on breaking that promise. No matter how angry I may be.” 

For the first time in that fucked up night, you managed a laugh. Something about that was so endearing to you. “Relax, Nott. I don’t mean we hurt her physically. That’s not really my style. I have a much more effective way to enact revenge.” Your lips curled into a smile as Theo hung onto every word. “We’re going to wage psychological warfare on our ex-girlfriend, Theo.” 

“I’ll confess I’m a little bit scared,” Theo declared as he gulped down the last of the wine. “And a little bit turned on. Guess that says a lot about me, huh?” 

You smirked as you retrieved the wine bottle and gingerly set it on the nightstand. Theo glanced up at you curiously, anticipation evident on his handsome face. “What exactly is the plan, dolcezza?” 

Whether it was the alcohol or your anger, a devious plan started forming as you looked over your ex-girlfriend’s now ex-boyfriend. “Hannah comes back from practice in an hour,” you stated, toying with the neck of the bottle. “She’s expecting to find me in bed waiting for her.” 

Mischief danced in Theo’s eyes. Up close, you could see flecks of green swimming in his blue irises. Those mesmerizing eyes—the very same ones that had the entire castle weak in the knees—locked on yours. Now that you were single through no fault of your own, you had no reason not to ogle Theo and ogle you did. Your gaze flickered over his lean physique, examining his solid chest and broad shoulders before snagging on the sliver of skin that revealed the hard abdominal muscles beneath his light grey shirt as he stretched. A cocky smirk graced his handsome face when he caught you looking.

Merlin, he was fucking pretty. 

How had you not noticed that before? Oh, right. You were too busy being a good girlfriend. Well, fuck that. 

“Oh?” He murmured, his gaze flickering over you. 

Though you changed into a baggy shirt and cotton shorts, you might as well have been naked with the way Theo was looking at you. His dead eyed stare burned holes into your skin and a shiver crawled up your spine as he gravitated closer. 

“And she will,” you said with a smirk, closing the gap between you. “You’ll just be in it with me.” 

“Oh,” Theo hummed salaciously. 

“Wouldn’t wanna waste those pretty roses you got, do we?” 

The low rasp of your voice seemed to entrance Theo as he shook his head, appearing dazed as you pulled him in by the front of his shirt. “No, no at all. We should…” The nervous bob of his Adam’s apple sent a thrill through your body. “We should definitely make use of them.” 

With a grin, you led him towards the bed. Theo walked backwards, his eyes never leaving yours even as he landed on the mattress. The golden glow of the lamp kissed his sharp cheekbones, its warm hue coloring the slope of his nose, which were smattered with moles and freckles, before emphasizing his wine stained lips. The red roses fluttered around him as the bed dipped, soft petals tickling his skin as he settled against the headboard.

Theo felt like he was under a spell as you crawled over him. He couldn’t tell whether he was dizzy from the wine or if it was just the effect you had on him, but either way, he wasn’t complaining. There were worse things to suffer from than a pretty witch straddling his lap. 

Instinctively, Theo gripped your waist while you settled over him. The sight of you leaning over him, your face mere inches away from his felt like a fever dream. One that he had no desire of waking up from. 

“I thought you liked girls,” Theo whispered softly as your lips brushed over his. Teasing, taunting, tasting. Fuck, what he would give to have you devour him whole. 

“I do,” you replied, tickling his cheek with a rose petal. Theo shivered as the low rasp of your voice pulled him in. “But I like boys too. Especially pretty ones like you.” 

Theo couldn’t help but blush. Obviously, he was aware that he was attractive, but he’d never been called pretty before. He was surprised to find that he really fucking liked it. 

“Don’t flatter me, dolcezza. Not unless you plan on following through.”

“I’ve never been with a Slytherin before,” you whispered huskily. “Tell me, Theo. Will you sink your teeth into me tonight?”

A part of him pondered the slightly fucked up situation that Theo managed to get himself into tonight. Was he really about to fuck his ex-girlfriend’s ex-girlfriend in her own bed? Yes. Did he feel an ounce of guilt over what he was about to do? No. 

Honestly, fuck Hannah. But more importantly, Theo needed to focus on fucking you. 

“Fuck yes.”

When you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, it was over. There wasn’t a single trace of self control in him as he kissed back, his mouth hot and eager against yours. The infamous Gryffindor boldness didn’t disappoint as you moaned into his mouth, your fingers threading through his silky brown waves before tugging in a way that made Theo weak in the knees. As he parted your lips with his tongue, you grinded against him and laughed seductively when he whimpered in response. 

“Yeah?” you purred as you rolled your hips. “You like that, pretty boy?” 

“Bloody fucking hell,” Theo groaned before he kissed you again, rougher this time. 

There was something satisfying about the way he grabbed you, his big hands guiding you to grind over him, providing a delicious friction between your clothed sex. Theo was hard and throbbing underneath you. By the feel of him, you knew you were in for a ride. The sheer size of him was going to absolutely destroy you. 

You pulled away and a glistening trail of spit extended between you as a result of your sloppy make out. Theo panted as you tugged at the hem of his shirt, keeping your eyes trained on him while you licked a path down his abdomen. He watched hungrily as you grazed your teeth over his hard muscles, flicking your tongue expertly while he shuddered underneath you. 

“I can see why Hannah went for you,” you hummed against his tan skin. “You’re hot as fuck. Your abs are unreal and your happy trail,” Theo groaned as you pressed soft kisses along his torso. “It leads to something delicious, doesn’t it?” 

“Fuck, bella. You’re killing me,” Theo groaned as he fisted your hair in one hand. The whimper that slipped past his lips as you palmed his cock was utterly shameless. “You’ve got a filthy fucking mouth, Y/N.” 

“Yeah? Shut me up, then.” 

His head lolled back against the headboard as you released his cock from his boxers, stroking purposefully and savoring the filthy moans that echoed against the walls. Those pretty eyes of his were nearly black with lust as he looked down at you, biting his lip while your tongue swirled over the head of his cock. Licking up his precum, you smirked before fully wrapping your lips around him. 

Theo tugged at your hair and bucked against your mouth as you sucked, licked, and pumped every inch of his thick, hard cock. You knew you were good, but the desperation in Theo’s voice all but confirmed it. 

“Dio mio, right there. Fuck, you’re perfect. Your throat was made to be fucked. You can take it, bella. Choke on my cock, just like that.”

You gagged as he hit the back of your throat. Sucking dick had never been your favorite, but sucking Theo’s dick was something else. He looked so pretty with his waves plastered to his forehead, rosy cheeks flushed as he fucked your face with a dominance that had you growing wetter by the second. Tears streaked down your cheeks as you choked on his cock, but it was worth every second to hear Theo moan your name. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” hissed Theo after a particularly rough thrust. You could tell he was close by the way his body seized underneath you, but you weren’t done with him yet. You wanted more and so did he. “So fucking close, but I don’t want to come yet. I need…Fuck, I need more.” 

You released him with a pop, but kept stroking him with your right hand. “Use your words, pretty boy.” 

“I want to feel you,” Theo whined. “I need to feel your pussy clenching around my cock, principessa. I need you so fucking bad. I’d get on my knees to be inside of you. Please.” 

“You sound so pretty when you beg,” you said as you kissed his temple. “Who am I to refuse?” 

Theo watched as you shuffled above him, barely breathing as you slipped out of your clothes. When you threw your shirt off, Theo cursed to find you completely bare before him. He cupped your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples before wrapping his lips around them. You could tell he was eager to please and that alone was a huge fucking turn on. It was rare to find a man who cared about pleasure beyond his own, which is why you usually preferred women. Theodore Nott seemed to be the exception. 

With rapt attention, Theo helped you lower down onto his length. He kept his eyes on you as you adjusted, gasping when your walls stretched to accommodate his size. 

“You know, I thought the rumors about you were exaggerated,” you groaned as you sank lower. “But I’ve never been so glad to be wrong.” 

Theo smirked as he nibbled at your earlobe. “What kind of rumors, dolcezza?” 

“That you had a huge dick,” you responded, sounding slightly winded once Theo was finally fully sheathed inside of you. “And that you fuck like a—“ You moaned when Theo shifted his hips to rut into you. He was so big that the minuscule movement felt like you were being split apart. 

“That I fuck like what, bella?” 

Never one to be outdone, you tugged at his hair and grinded against him. “That you fuck like an absolute demon.” 

“Yeah?” He drawled, sliding in and out of you with a cocky smirk. “Well, you’re no angel either, Y/N.” 

“You haven’t seen anything yet, Theo.” 

The sight of you bouncing on his cock and riding the fuck out of him was almost too much. Theo was mesmerized as you used him to get off, head thrown back as you placed your hands on either side of his legs before bending in an angle that he wasn’t even sure was possible for a human to contort to. 

Damn, he should’ve fucked a cheerleader sooner. He should’ve fucked you sooner. 

“I guess you’re not the only one who listened to the rumors. They said you were flexible, but goddamn, this is something else. You’re something else, Y/N.” 

“Oh fuck, Theo,” you keened as you gripped the sheets. “You’re so big. It feels so fucking good, baby.” 

“I like the way you moan my name,” he said. “Gods, I could’ve had this all along. Why was I even wasting my time with Hannah? Sei una fottuta dea.” 

“I have no idea what you just said,'' you panted, picking up the pace. Your legs ached from the effort, but it felt too good to stop. “But I’m soaked now.” 

“I said,” Theo grunted as he fucked up into you and tugged your hair back. “You’re a fucking goddess, Y/N.” 

When he rubbed circles on your clit, you absolutely lost it. The room spiraled around you as you came hard, creaming Theo from tip to base. He pulled out suddenly, making you whine at the loss of contact until he replaced his cock with his mouth. Theo flattened his tongue, licking up along your soaked folds. His nose brushed against your already sensitive clit and you cried out as he lapped you up like a man starved. 

“Can’t take anymore,” you whined, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you pushed against Theo’s broad shoulders. “It’s too much. I’m so sensitive.” 

Theo gripped your ankles and spread your legs wider. “Where’s that Gryffindor bravery, bella?” He chuckled, tracing circles on the inside of your thighs. His mouth glistened with your cum and rose petals stuck to his skin as he looked up at you. “Surely you can take more. We barely just started. I want you drenched in tears. Shaking, crying, and moaning my name. Right now, you’re not even close.” 

He sucked on your clit and you swore to Godric your eyes rolled back so hard that you saw heaven. Theo was determined to drive you to the brink of insanity. “I know you want it, baby. Let me make you feel good.” 

“Oh gods,” you cried out as he filled you with two fingers. It wasn’t as much of a stretch as his cock, but the way he curled them inside of you, touching that sensitive spongy spot within your walls made you whimper all the same. “Fuck, yes, gods. I want it. I want you, Theo.” 

A satisfied smile graced his handsome face before Theo flipped you over, pressing you headfirst into the pillows as he feasted on your pussy from behind. There wasn’t a single thought in your head as he unraveled you with his tongue and fingers. It was a deadly combination that had you on the edge quicker than you thought possible. 

“Turn around, principessa,” Theo cooed. “Come ride my face.” 

For Godric’s fucking sake. The man was absolutely insatiable. You liked to think that you had excellent stamina. Most of the time your partners struggled to keep up with your pace, but Theo was seriously challenging that. You didn’t know if you could come three times in a row without passing out, but tonight was as good as any to find out. 

Theo rewarded you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss before positioning your thighs on either side of his head. You held onto the headboard above him. Part of it was for balance, but mostly to keep yourself from collapsing all together. You felt so overstimulated that the line between pleasure and pain was blurring by the minute, but still, neither one of you had any plans of stopping. 

At this point, you actually couldn’t give less of a fuck about revenge. Hannah had long become a thing of the past. It seemed ironic that you and your ex-girlfriend were in this exact position mere hours ago yet you couldn’t even recall anything past the Slytherin fucking you with his tongue. 

“Theo, oh my fucking gods,” you cried out as you grinded against his mouth. “Right there. Yes, that’s it. So good.” Theo squeezed your thighs in response, which elicited a hoarse laugh out of you. “You like when I praise you, pretty boy?” 

Theo hummed against your clit and squeezed your ass in confirmation. “You’re so pretty when you’re eating my pussy,” you cooed, brushing his wavy locks back. “But you’re even prettier when you’re fucking me.” 

That seemed to be all the encouragement Theo needed. Before you knew it, your back was against the mattress as he hiked your legs over your shoulder. Theo slipped in easily, thanks to the juices coating both his tongue and cock now that he was filling you up again. 

“How’s the view now, principessa?” Theo asked with a cocky smirk. 

You bit your lip as he pounded into you, holding your gaze with every sharp thrust. His tanned skin glistened with sweat and his muscles flexed while he buried himself inside of you again and again, watching you take all of him with rapt attention. His balls slapped against your ass every time his hips snapped to yours, drilling so deep that you struggled for words.

“The best in the castle,” you quipped back, putting on a serene smile as Theo grunted and fucked any and every coherent thought right out of you. 

Neither one of you noticed the door opening nor the sound of the broom hitting the floor. You were too busy staring into Theo’s pretty eyes to care. 

He turned your head towards the door, but didn’t stop fucking you as Hannah watched with her mouth hung wide open. Theo made sure that your ex-girlfriend had a clear view of the money shot as he claimed you with his mouth, moaning your name against your lips as he came with a loud cry. He filled you to the brim and you could feel him leaking out of you and onto the sheets as your eyes rolled back.

Theo collapsed on top of you, sweaty and sinful. As you lay boneless and blissed out of your mind, you couldn’t quite believe that you’d just fucked your ex-girlfriend’s ex boyfriend. In her own bed, nonetheless. If that wasn’t poetic justice, you didn’t know what was. Merlin, you hadn’t gotten shagged like that in—well, ever. The Slytherin really knew how to slither in. You lifted your head to find Theo already looking at you. When you made eye contact, the two of you burst into laughter.

Your ex-girlfriend, on the other hand, was not as amused. “What the fuck!” Hannah screamed. 

Her shrill voice brought you out of the post haze aftermath of your earth shattering orgasm. Completely unbothered, you stretched lazily and waved your fingers at Hannah. Theo smirked as he tugged his sweatpants back on, but opted to remain shirtless as he pulled his oversized shirt over your head like a proper gentleman. You were grateful, since you had absolutely no desire to walk around in your ex-girlfriend’s clothes. Plus, it didn’t hurt that Theo looked absolutely delicious from the afterglow.

You bit your lip, already thinking of all the ways you’d like to have him. Again and again. As often as possible.

With a little smile, you met Theo’s gaze. It was clear that neither of you had any intention of calling it an early night. You had a feeling that you had a lot of sleepless nights ahead of you. Theo looked like he wanted to tear you apart and you were more than willing to let him. “My dorm?” 

“Whatever you say, dolcezza,” Theo said as he slipped his fingers through yours. “You could lead me off the astronomy tower and I’d follow.” 

Theo didn’t bother looking at Hannah as the two of you passed her. You, on the other hand, couldn’t pass up the chance to get the last word in. 

“By the way, we’re breaking up with you. Have fun cleaning up the mess.” 

Theo chuckled darkly as he tugged you out into the hallway, smacking your arse as the two of you raced back to your dorm. Behind you, your long forgotten ex-girlfriend gaped as she watched her ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend walk away hand in hand.

[drunk-person]

Weeds

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Summary: Aemond approaches Rhaenyra's daughter in childhood, always bringing her small daisies that are not flowers, but simple weeds.

WARNING: No age restriction. Mentions of blood, previous injuries and medieval medical procedures. Other than that, just cuteness and sweetness. No reader discretion!

Word cont: 7.500 k

Author's note: This story was the result of a request sent by an anon, it was the first time I received a request and it made me very happy because usually when I make a request to a specific author it is because I like how that person tells the stories from their own point of view, so… thank you. It is not 100% focused only on what is in the request, since I have already read several stories with this same theme, so I decided to adapt and tell it in my own way. I hope you like it! 🥰💕

Ps: Y/n can be the daughter of either Harwin, Laenor or Daemon, you choose!

The day dawned sunny and warm in Kings Landing, bringing many of the nobles out into the courtyards and gardens of the red keep. While the adults whispered gossip and negotiated positions and power, the children simply played and laughed around the Keep.

-I don't know why you like these silly flowers so much. - Jace rolled his eyes as he watched his younger sister braid the freshly picked bouquet of daisies into a flower crown. - They're not even real flowers! I heard the septa say to a girl that they are weeds!

-I like them. - Y/n sighed in a soft voice, shrugging her shoulders without stopping to braid the flowers. - They're delicate and make beautiful crowns!

Jace rolled his eyes and pulled the flower crown from his sister's hands and lifted it slightly in the air so that the younger one couldn't reach it.

-Jace! - The girl scolded, getting up from the floor and brushing the dust off the blue dress she was wearing for the day. - Give it back to me or I'll tell Mom!

-Leave her alone! - Before Jace could answer, Aemond's shy but firm voice sounded through the courtyard, making Y/n smile and go to meet him, forgetting about the flower crown stolen by Jace almost instantly.

-Hi Aemond! - She smiled, tilting her head to the side in a sweet way, making Jace roll his eyes even more deeply.

-I want to see if you have so much courage when training with dragons… - The brunette spoke provocatively and then started laughing. - Oh, I forgot… you don't even have a dragon.

-If you continue to be mean, I'll tell Muña what you and Aegon did yesterday! - The youngest screamed when she saw Aemond's embarrassment, and Jace's eyes widened and he ran away right away, leaving her alone with the older one.

-What did he and Aegon do yesterday? - Aemond asked curiously and the youngest shrugged her shoulders with a confused look.

-I don't know, but Jace probably wouldn't want our mother to know.

Aemond couldn't help but chuckle at the girl's answer, but the smile slowly faded when he saw the sad look on her face when she saw her bouquet of daisies crumpled on the floor.

-Jace ruined them. - She sighed in a sad voice as she played with the crumpled petals on the floor.

-Don't be sad. - The oldest sat next to her. - I'll get some more for you.

-But you said they only grew in the south of forest! - She sighed even more sadly. - You can't go there alone and there won't be another hunt for another 2 moons!

-I'll find a way to get them for you. - Aemond shrugged as he subtly brushed his fingers against hers, who didn't really believe him, but was happy that he cared so much.

-Aem? - Her sweet voice called him moments later as she looked at the sunny blue sky, full of white clouds.

-Yes? - He looked at her curiously when he heard the nickname coming from her lips.

-Don't pay attention to what my brother says. - She muttered, looking at him. - He can be very silly sometimes.

-Something that our brothers apparently have in common. - He rolled his eyes, making the youngest laugh.

-If Aegon and Jace are mean to you again, I'll tell Hūraxes to set them on fire. - The little girl hissed decisively and the older boy gave a small smile.

-I don't know why, but I don't think our mothers would be happy with that. - Aemond rolled his eyes, lowering his gaze, making Y/n smile too.

The next day, the sun had barely risen and Aemond was already chasing Sir Cole through the courtyard, vehemently insisting that he needed to go to the kings wood.

-I just don't understand what you want to do there, my prince. - The knight looked at him confused. - We were there about two days ago.

-I just want to go, Criston. - Aemond rolled his eyes, poorly raised. - And if you don't go with me, I'll find a way to escape and go there alone.

And overcome by tiredness and fearful that the young prince known for his stubbornness would actually keep his promise, Criston reluctantly led him to the forest.

The morning passed quickly at Red Kepp with the adults immersed in their daily activities while the children just attended their daily classes and played among themselves.

Y/n was laughing amusedly as she watched a rabbit that had entered one of the Kepp gardens, it was very white, fluffy and skittish making her laugh as she tried to imitate it. She had been looking for Aemond all morning, but without success in finding him and only now had she found something fun to do alone.

Until, amidst the soft rustling of the leaves, Aemond's voice rang out through the garden, calling her name softly.

-Aem! - She ran to him excitedly. - Look! A bunny!

But Aemond didn't seem very excited about the fluffy animal, he just waved and continued to look at her, looking a little embarrassed.

-Is everything okay? - She tilted her head to the side. - Was Jace bad again?

-No, it's nothing like that. - He sighed after gathering courage. - I just brought you a gift.

And taking his hands from behind his back, he handed the youngest a beautiful bouquet of fragrant, freshly picked daisies, still with a few drops of morning dew on them.

Y/n's eyes widened and became full of brightness at the same time, a smile lit up her childish face as she extended her hands expectantly to the eldest, who smiled at her reaction.

-How did you get them? - She sighed, smelling the flowers with a whiff of air as she looked at Aemond through the bouquet.

-I asked Sir Criston to take me to the forest and I picked them for you. - He shrugged, lowering his gaze a little blushing, and Y/n smiled even more, tilting her head to the side, admiring him.

-They're beautiful, Aem. - Y/n hugged him, being careful not to crush the beautiful daisies. - The most beautiful bouquet I've ever received!

-Have you received many bouquets? - He raised his eyebrow a little laughingly, and Y/n gently pushed his shoulder.

-Don't be silly, Aem.

The rest of the day Princess Y/n spent weaving beautiful flower crowns for herself using the flowers from the bouquet, except for a few that she separated and kept inside her favorite book, just as she had seen her mother do a few times.

And when Rhaenyra smiled and asked who had given her the flowers with her eyebrows raised in confusion, the little girl simply replied that it had been a secret admirer, making her mother roll her eyes with a smile as she kissed her forehead and stroked her hair.

Time passed more and more, and as friendship and love blossomed between Y/n and Aemond, enmity and hatred grew between him and her brothers. Everything reached its peak on the night of Laena Velaryon's wake, when Aemond reclaimed Vhagar and Luke in return gouged out his eye.

Y/n hadn't seen the commotion, she was a little scared after the wake and hearing Rhaena and Baela crying made her almost cry too, and for a moment she thought about how she would feel if she herself lost her mother. With that thought Y/n left the room she shared with her brothers and cousins ​​and ran to her mother's room, lying down alone among the covers waiting for her to return, sleeping in the middle of the wait.

The girl was woken up in the middle of the night by shrill screams and raised voices breaking through the Driftmark fortress. And even fearful she left her mother's room and walked to the main hall following the sound of the voices. The Vision that greeted her was one of the most terrible she had ever witnessed in her life.

Aemond sat rigid in a chair, biting his lower lip tightly without making a sound, while the maester stitched up a furious red wound where his beautiful eye had once been.

At the same moment, tears ran down Y/n's face. Unable to make a sound, she ran to the foot of the chair, throwing herself on her knees and taking Aemond's hands in hers as she cried and sobbed. She didn't even notice her mother and brothers standing further away.

-A-Aemond. - She finally sobbed the name of the eldest after a few moments. - What happened?

Aemond didn't say anything, he just lowered his head, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze in the room on them both and barely able to open his lips for fear of succumbing to the pain and screaming if he did, even though he had already drunk a certain amount of poppy milk.

-What happened? - Alicent shouted, drawing everyone's eyes back to her. - I already said what happened! My son was attacked in an ambush and had his eye gouged out by Lucerys Velaryon!

Y/n shook her head in internal denial, still firmly pressing Aemond's hands in hers, barely noticing the blood that had not yet completely dried on his hands, staining hers. Finally noticing Luke's broken nose and crimson-red stained face, while Jace hovered protectively in front of him.

She didn't know what to think at that moment, and suddenly felt like a loud ringing was in her ears, and she just held her breath when her mother and the queen faced each other in the middle of the room with a dagger between them. The fear from earlier took over the girl's heart again at the same moment when she saw the blood running down her mother's wounded arm, and before things got any worse, Aemond stood up, assuming a very firm and straight posture.

-Don't cry for me, mother. - He spoke in a firm voice and without wavering even once. - I might have lost an eye, but I gained a dragon.

The youngest looked at him confused, not understanding what he meant by that. And when Alicent dragged Aemond back to his room, Y/n tried to follow him, but was stopped by her mother's soft touch on her shoulder, who looked at her with a stern look while shaking her head negatively.

-Why did you do this to him! - Y/n shouted, walking hard towards Luke, her eyes burning with fury as the others left the main hall.

-It wasn't his fault! - Jace shouted back, interposing himself between his younger brothers. - Luke was just defending himself against your dear friend Aemond!

-Lie! - She shouted at Jace while the two were fighting, not listening to Rhaenyra who ordered the two to stop arguing immediately.

-He stole Vhagar, beat Rhaena, broke Luke's nose and then tried to hit me with a stone! - Jace enumerated furiously, staring at the youngest. - All this while calling us bastards…

-Jace! - Rhaenyra practically shouted, reprimanding him firmly for using such a word.

Y/n just stood still for a moment, her eyes wide as she heard that while she slowly shook her head.

-You're lying. Aemond wouldn't do that. - She practically whispered, not her dear Aemond who hugged her and picked wild daisies just to make her happy, he would never do something like that without reason. - I don't believe you.

-But it's the truth! - Jace hissed between his teeth.

-What did you do to him? - Y/n shouted, livid with fury once again, glaring at her brother while ignoring her mother's reprimands. - He wouldn't attack you without reason!

-But he did! - Now it was Rhaena who shouted. - He stole my mother's dragon that was supposed to be mine and then attacked us.

-If you wanted Vhagar so much, you should have gone to her before someone else did! - Y/n spat back, facing the girl.

-Don't talk to her like that because of him! - Jace snapped back, now in front of Rhaena.

And before the argument could continue any longer, Rhaenyra reprimanded them both firmly, this time, leaving no room for questioning. And fearing that the argument would prevail, she took Y/n with her to her own room, taking her away from her brothers and cousins.

Hours later, when the day dawned looking more gray than anything else, Y/n waited until her mother was busy enough with the preparations for the trip and slipped into the room where she knew Aemond was. She was staring at the door in the distance at the end of the hallway, when suddenly it opened and Alicent left the room.

Taking a deep breath to gather courage, Y/n walked quickly over there, closing the door carefully behind her.

-I just want to be alone, mother… - Aemond's voice died when he noticed Y/n there, and as if she hadn't seen the injury the night before, he tried to hide it, turning his face to the side quickly while holding his breath.

-Aem. - She approached the bed slowly.

-Don't look at me. - He hid even more. - I'm completely deformed.

-T-There's nothing wrong with you. - She murmured, extending her hand slowly, fearing that he would move away once again and when he didn't, she slowly stroked his hair with her fingertips.

-I'm leaving for Dragonstone. - She sniffed, looking at his back and seeing him tense up at the same instant. - I just wanted to let you know that I don't believe anything they said about you. And that I'm happy for you to reclaim Vhagar.

As if those words had a calming effect on him, the older boy back relaxed slightly.

-Thank you. - He practically murmured, still feeling her soft touch on his hair.

And interrupting the moment, Y/n heard her mother's voice calling her from a distance, her eyes widening immediately afterwards.

-I have to go. - She sighed, slowly removing her hand. - Aemond?

-Yes?

-Can I see your face before I leave? - She whispered and he didn't move a muscle. - Please. I don't know when I'll be able to see you again.

Taking a deep breath, Aemond decided to end it and break his own heart once and for all when he saw the repulsion he knew would be in her eyes when she saw his mutilation in the light of day.

He slowly turned to her, barely looking her in the eyes as he did so, fearing what he would see there, and when he finally looked at her, what he found was not what he expected. Y/n had approached him with her face hovering inches away, and when he thought he couldn't get any closer, she left a gentle, soft kiss on the stitches that closed the reddened skin of his cheek that had become a mess of patched skin.

-You're still perfect for me, Aem. - She sighed against his skin delicately, making him almost gasp in surprise.

And hearing her mother call her once again, Y/n said "Goodbye" in a very low voice, feeling tears fall as she ran towards the door, heartbroken for leaving the injured Aemond behind.

After that, weeks passed before the two spoke again because they were so far apart, until one morning Aemond got up practically before nightingale time and ran to send a raven saying he was sorry for not having said goodbye properly weeks ago, placing with the letter a small daisy with slightly wilted petals that he had picked in the forest two days before.

The answer came a day later in the form of a long letter in which Y/n detailed everything that had happened at Dragon Stone in the last few days while stating how much she wished he was there, and how much he would enjoy the place.

From then on, it became common for both of them to exchange letters in secret, talking about their own lives and telling each other daily secrets week after week, month after month. Aemond's letters always included a small daisy attached, which made Y/n smile as she felt the sweet aroma of the flower while reading the contents of the letter.

Until the day Aemond sent her a letter informing her that the Master was preparing to perform a procedure on his missing eye to reduce the constant pain he had been feeling lately, and that he recommended inserting something so that the pressure would help his body readapt.

He did not receive a reply to that letter for days and when he thought, with his heart heavy with pain and shame, that the reply would no longer come, he received a small note through a raven with only a few words written and Y/n's name signed below.

Meet me on the middle island at the hour of the wolf.

Y/n

And without blinking he went.

In the middle of the night he sneaked through the secret passages until he reached the royal forest, where Vhagar slept soundly when she was not flying, and mounted her, leaving as stealthily as he could considering the enormous size of the centuries-old dragon.

As he approached the island, he noticed Y/n sitting on the grass, looking up at the starry sky, her head resting on Hūraxes' wing, covered in silver-blue scales. He caught his breath immediately when he noticed how much she had grown, as had her dragon.

As soon as she noticed Vhagar's approach, Y/n stood up, very anxious, admiring the grandeur of Aemond and his dragon in the sky. And when he got down and walked towards her, the two of them were barely breathing, staring at each other in the darkness, with only the moon illuminating them.

-Hello.

-Hi.

The two murmured at the same time, overcome by shyness and embarrassment after not seeing each other for so long and speaking only through letters.

-Y-You're taller. - Y/n whispered, not knowing whether to look up and stare at him or look down and stare at her own feet.

-Mmmm. - He didn't know what to answer, he was too lost in the melodious and sweet sound that her voice had developed over the years.

The two remained silent, staring at each other for what seemed like hours, while little Hūraxes bothered Vhagar by poking her with her nose and the older one turned away, occasionally snorting when she was prevented from sleeping.

-You called me? - Aemond murmured almost inaudibly after the long silence and Y/n widened her eyes, as if she had forgotten that she had planned all this.

-Y-Yes. - She cleared her throat after stuttering. - Yes, I did.

Aemond looked at her questioningly and with a sigh the younger one walked over to Hūraxes, whispering for him to be quiet and leave Vhagar alone in Valyrian, making Aemond smile and close his eye slightly as he felt a pang in his chest.

-I wanted to give you something as a gift. - She looked back as she took something that was firmly attached to her dragon's saddle, and Aemond frowned in confusion at the prospect of receiving a gift from her.

And without saying anything else, Y/n approached and slowly unwrapped the cloth that previously covered what Aemond noticed was a large block of sapphire.

-You told me that the maester is going to do a procedure to alleviate your pain. - She began a little awkwardly, fearing that he would not like the idea. - And that you would need something for the inside.

With a little more courage she reached out her hand slowly and touched him over the eye patch in a gentle caress.

-I always thought your eyes looked like them when I was a child. - She sighed, looking him in the eye now. - As bright as sapphires.

And seeming to have no control over himself, Aemond inclined his head to her gentle touch.

-I thought I would need something that would do at least justice to the most beautiful blue eyes I have ever seen in my life. - And without thinking about how indecent that would be considered, Y/n leaned forward and put her forehead against Aemond's, staring straight into his eyes. - I found the stone myself, with the help of my guard, of course.

The older one didn't know what to say. He just stood there, staring at her almost breathlessly.

-I am not worthy of so much praise. - He finally muttered a few moments later with his gaze down and Y/n smiled wistfully.

-You are worthy of even more.

And slowly pulling away, she passed the sapphire block to his hands, feeling the touch, previously so soft when they were children, rough and calloused, causing strange goosebumps on her skin.

-I am sorry for not being with you that night. - She lamented, looking at the floor and then looking up at him again. - What my brothers did to you was unforgivable!

-There was nothing you could do, Y/n. - He spoke in a muffled voice, squeezing the sapphire block between his fingers. - You would only hurt yourself too, and I couldn't bear that.

-I also can't bear that you got hurt without me being able to do anything to help. - The pain in her eyes was visible even in the darkness and Aemond would rather be dead than see suffering in her eyes.

-You shouldn't blame yourself for this. - He murmured getting closer to her. - It wasn't in your power to save me.

-But I am grateful for being my confidant all these years, never leaving me alone even for a moment. - Aemond placed the sapphire block on a rock on the ground and held her hands between his affectionately, making her smile with her gaze downcast.

-I have something for you. - He murmured a little shyly, reaching into his pocket and taking out a slightly crushed daisy, making Y/n's eyes light up almost instantly. - I had brought you more, but the wind on Vhagar's back tore them apart, I could only save this one.

-She is perfect. - The youngest smiled, taking the flower from his hands and placing it behind her ear with her eyes shining. - The most beautiful flower I have ever received.

-Have you received many flowers? - He asked with a simple side smile, making her smile beautifully when she realized that he remembered it too.

And breathing deeply as she heard the rustling of birds in the trees as the first rays of morning appeared in the sky, Y/n left a quick kiss on the left corner of Aemond's lips, making him widen his eyes in shock as she ran away with flushed cheeks towards Hūraxes, leaving Aemond stunned behind.

Only when Y/n was already flying through the dawn with her dragon was he able to move again, breathing deeply, feeling his lungs burn as he smiled with his hand on the place where her soft lips had touched.

And still smiling, he reached for the sapphire block on the rock, realizing at that moment that there was a note attached to the bottom, with an anxious look he opened it as fast as his hands could.

"I will be praying to the gods every day and every night for your recovery. I hope you will accept this gift as a demonstration of my eternal affection for you.

With all my love, Y/n"

And looking at the paper affectionately, he put it in his pocket, close to his heart, walking again to Vhagar, feeling his chest heat up uncontrollably.

⚜⚜⚜

The procedure performed by the masters was a success, and even in the midst of recovery, Aemond did not stop writing to Y/n, who was elated to receive the first letter after the meeting, as she feared that he would take her for an dishonorable girl judging by that night.

After that first escape and the healing of Aemond's skin, meetings like that on that small island became frequent for the two. Escaping in the middle of the night and meeting under the moon and stars while they talked and smiled at each other. Every now and then, when he felt bold, Aemond would steal a kiss from her sweet lips, and then they would both blush to death, looking at each other shyly.

A few months after the eye procedure, Aemond felt comfortable showing his almost completely healed eye again to Y/n. He thought it was unfair not to let her see it since she had given him the stone, and he knew she was curious, but he was afraid she would find it grotesque beyond measure and not want to see him anymore after that.

He was completely wrong. As soon as she saw the sapphire attached to the socket where his beautiful blue eye had previously been, she sighed with contentment, carefully bringing her hand to the area and gently caressing the scar.

-Gevie. (beautiful)- She sighed in Valyrian, barely noticing that she had changed languages ​​due to surprise and making Aemond blush slightly with such a feeling of approval for himself.

Over time, Aemond learned a way to bring the daisies to Y/n without them arriving completely crushed and destroyed, and she was overjoyed with joy with each bouquet of flowers she received from him.

There was just one problem, someone started to notice Y/n's constant happiness and the fact that she was constantly surrounded by those weeds that everyone knew didn't grow in Dragon Stone's volcanic soil.

And one day, taking advantage of his sister's distraction, he followed her in Vermax to a small island, landing stealthily among the trees and frowning when he saw her alone admiring the sky. Until a monstrously large shadow covered the moon's brightness over the earth, making him almost lose his breath. And when Vhagar landed with its enormity, the entire land of the island trembled.

Jace's eyes shone with fury when the older man took a bouquet of those damned weeds and held it out to his sister, who accepted it with a bright smile, leaving a kiss on the corner of his lips.

-Get your paws off my sister! - Jacaerys shouted in fury, walking towards them both, making Y/n's eyes widen in shock.

-Jace? What are you doing here?

He didn't answer, he just pulled her arm hard, making her hiss in pain as he snatched the bouquet from her hands and threw it hard on the floor. At the same moment, Aemond pushed him to the ground without making the slightest effort, his face contorted with anger, while Hūraxes approached, growling in an furious manner.

-Don't you dare hurt her, you damn thing! - He growled, taking hard steps towards Jace, causing Vermax to jump from where he was hiding among the trees and threaten to breathe fire on Aemond. But that didn't do much to scare him, since now he had Vhagar who, upon seeing the knight under threat, stood up in a more than imposing manner, hovering behind Aemond and making Vermax back down with just a powerful snort that made the plants spread across the ground.

Aemond threw a smile of maximum arrogance at Jace who was still down, and Before he could hit him again, Y/n intervened with wide eyes, making him stop at the same moment, staring at her fixedly.

-You're going to come home with me. - Jace snorted, standing up, now even more furious at being easily surpassed by Aemond both in physical strength and in the strength of his dragons. - And when I tell our mother and Daemon that you were alone, at dawn, in the middle of nowhere with that cripple, she'll ask for his head for dishonoring you!

Jacaerys had barely closed his mouth when Y/n gave him a loud slap on the left cheek, her eyes burning with rage.

-Don't you dare refer to him that way again! - She shouted angrily, making Aemond's eyes widen. - Do you hear me?

-You want to know? - Jace laughed without humor and even more angrily. - You can stay here with him! It'll be even better to see our mother's and Daemon's reaction when I tell them that you're still here with him.

And after spitting out the words, he turned and climbed onto Vermax with ease, already flying towards Dragon Stone.

-No! - Y/n screamed desperately, unable to stop him, and even at a disadvantage since he had left first, she ran to Hūraxes, ready to mount.

-Y/n! - Aemond's voice sounded tense. - Where are you going?

-I need to stop him! - She practically cried, staring at him in despair. - If my mother finds out, and especially… if Daemon finds out, they'll say you dishonored me and they'll want to hurt you for it!

-You can't go like this! - He murmured, visibly worried, as he caressed her face affectionately.

-I'll be okay. - She forced a smile, stroking the dragon's silver-blue scales. - Hūraxes will take care of me.

Y/n was preparing to climb onto the dragon, but then a terrible idea crossed her mind. What if she never saw Aemond again? What if everything went wrong and the two were separated forever? And faced with these catastrophic thoughts, she turned back and kissed him on the lips. A real kiss, different from all the others they had shared up until that moment. Their tongues intertwined and danced between them, and they only let go when they were practically out of breath.

Aemond pressed his forehead against Y/n's, and they both closed their eyes in silence for a few moments, trapped in that mutual understanding that had always been so common and certain for them.

And with a final sigh, Y/n separated from him and climbed onto Hūraxes' saddle, feeling tears almost escaping her eyes as she flew away from her former safe haven.

Aemond looked at the other beautiful daisies, now crushed and trampled on the ground, and feeling his heart heavy with pain, he mounted Vhagar and took flight towards Kings Landing.

Unfortunately, no matter how fast her dear Hūraxes was, Y/n couldn't get to the Dragon Stone before Jacaerys. And when she landed on the sandy ground and walked towards the castle, Y/n could see her mother and stepfather with deadly looks on their faces.

-Y/n, I want you to tell me the truth. - Rhaenyra spoke in a restrained manner as soon as she reached the top of the stairs. - Did you let him touch you?

Rhaenyra wanted to say more than kisses and soft hugs in the starlight, but Y/n didn't know that and so she just stared at her own feet, blushing, unable to say a single word.

-By the gods. - The older woman sighed, looking at her husband.

-For me, the solution is clear, we ask for his head for taking away her virtue and solve all our problems at once. - Daemon hissed furiously, making Y/n's eyes widen.

-No! - She practically screamed. - It wasn't that way! Aemond never touched me like that, I swear!

-How do I know you're not just trying to protect him? - Rhaenyra looked at her very seriously.

-Muña, I swear to you! - Y/n pleaded. - I swear! He would only kiss me and bring me flowers! That's all! Don't hurt him, please!

-Go to your room right now and get ready, we're going to Kings Landing! - Rhaenyra's voice sounded very serious, making Daemon smile widely while Y/n shivered in panic.

-Muña, I'm begging you. - Y/n cried, looking deeply into the older woman's eyes. - Don't hurt him. If anything happens to Aemond, it will be as if it had happened to me!

And wiping the tears with the back of her hands, she walked with long strides towards the chambers, finding Jace standing in the way.

-If Aemond suffers any harm or is exiled because of you, I will disregard you as my brother! - She practically spat those words angrily at Jacaerys, making him shiver.

Rhaenyra and Daemond argued all morning before leaving for Kings Landing, the shouts in Valyrian could be heard from miles away. Y/n understood some parts, especially what Daemond was saying, since his angry voice could reach the seven hells at that height.

Basically, he continued to ask for Aemond's head or exile, which according to him was the best possible option and the most beneficial considering the whole situation and thinking about a not too distant future. Y/n wanted to understand what her mother was saying, but she used a strangely low tone of voice with screams when she was angry, making it difficult to hear anything from a distance other than angry and disjointed growls.

Rhaenyra didn't even want to leave by ship, since only Y/n, Jace, Daemon and Rhaenyra herself would go to the capital. They all went by dragon, and Y/n had never had such a terrible flight in her life, feeling her stomach churn to the point of almost vomiting on poor Hūraxes.

When they finally arrived and got off the carriage in front of the Red Keep, Y/n didn't know if it was just her impression, but the silence there seemed morbid while Alicent and Oto waited at the top of the stairs.

-My princess, what brings you here without giving us any warning? - Oto murmured, raising his eyebrow in curiosity.

-This is still our house Hightower. - Daemon spat, rolling his eyes. - We don't need to give you any warning or ask for your permission to come.

-That's not what I said, my prince. - Oto spat back, trying to maintain his composure.

-I came to discuss very serious matters with my father. - Rhaenyra finally spoke, and before Oto could open his mouth she cut him off with a serious voice. - Only with my father!

-You don't need to guide me, I know the way. - And without saying anything else she put her right hand on Y/n's back, guiding her into the Keep.

Y/n couldn't feel anything other than fear. All she could think was Aemond. Her eyes ran through every corner and crevice of the castle, looking for even a figure that could indicate his presence, but she didn't see him anywhere.

When they arrived at Viserys' room, a strange smell took over Y/n's nostrils, momentarily distracting her until she realized where the smell was coming from when she saw her grandfather sitting reading a book in an armchair with twice the wounds he had the last time she had seen him.

–Dad? - Rhaenyra whispered and the old man's eyes instantly shone as he looked up.

-My beloved girl! It's so good to see you!

And Rhaenyra hugged him, feeling warmth in her chest as she did so, and for a moment Y/n thought she would reconsider bothering the king by seeing him in such conditions, but she didn't reconsider. She whispered something inaudibly in his ear, making Y/n's skin crawl with pure anguish.

-This calls for an audience with all those involved. - Viserys finally spoke out loud and Y/n felt her heart drop in her chest.

Almost an hour later, they were all gathered in the main hall with Viserys wearing the crown for the first time in months and sitting on the Iron Throne.

Alicent and Otto had morbid looks on their faces while Aemond remained motionless, avoiding looking at Y/n so as not to make the already bad situation even worse.

-As your king, your father and your grandfather, I order you to be sincere. - Viserys did his best to keep the firm voice he once had.

-Aemond, did you take away Y/n's virtue?

After that question, the empty hall was dominated by a deadly silence, and with a sigh Aemond murmured.

-No, I would never dishonor her in that way.

-But would you take her to a piece of land in the middle of nowhere at the hour of the wolf to just exchange kisses? - Daemon mocked and Viserys gestured for him to be quiet while Rhaenyra glared at him with a deadly look.

-Y/n, is what Aemond says true?

-Yes, your grace. - She spoke as firmly as she could while holding her hands tightly so as not to tremble. - He never touched me in an inappropriate way.

-Well, if they both vehemently deny any accusations against my son, you can't do anything against him! - Alicent scolded with contained fury facing Rhaenyra.

-Nothing may have happened between them, but tongues speak! - Rhaenyra hissed very rigidly. - Servants hear things and tell each other and before we know it, the royal houses are aware of everything that happens within our walls too!

-Father… - She looked seriously at the throne. - I will not allow my only daughter to be defamed.

Y/n felt tears blurring her vision, prepared to beg her grandfather not to listen to her mother when she demanded Aemond's head or exile.

-I demand that Aemond marry my daughter so that she will not be dishonored! - Rhaenyra growled unyieldingly and Y/n almost froze in shock, barely feeling the tears roll down their cheeks at that moment.

For the first time in that day, Y/n and Aemond's hearts beat in surprise and then in joy.

-What? - Alicent hissed furiously, and Y/n could see from the corner of her eye that Daemon didn't seem happy with the idea either.

The only one in the room besides her and Aemond who seemed happy was Viserys, who upon hearing Rhaenyra's solution seemed to almost shine with a breath of life again.

-I accept the princess's demand.

Alicent's eyes widened as did Oto's upon hearing Viserys speaking, making the decision so seriously and clearly. And before either or both of them could intervene, the morbid king continued.

-It is hereby proclaimed that from this moment on, Aemond of House Targaryen and Y/n of House Velaryon are betrothed and shall be married within a maximum period of three moons from today.

Y/n could very well die of such happiness with those words. And when she looked in Aemond's direction, her heart brightened even more when she saw the almost palpable joy in his eyes, even though his face was serious, and he could hide it from everyone, but Y/n could notice the curve in his serrated lips.

As she left the hall, Y/n could not hear the sounds around her, it was as if a sweet song sounded softly in her ears, bringing her peace of mind while a smile of enchantment hovered on her lips.

She found Jace waiting anxiously outside, not even having been called to say what he had witnessed, she simply hugged him and left a loud kiss on his cheek before walking, still humming, towards her own chambers, being closely followed by a member of the royal guard so as not to stray from the path.

And when a secret passage opened hours later and Aemond appeared inside the room holding a single, slightly wilted daisy in his hands, Y/n ran towards him, hugging him fervently, laughing outrageously when he spun her around in the air, holding her by the waist.

-We're engaged. - He murmured as incredulous as she was, his eyes still shining with that uncontrollable joy. And Y/n just shook her head positively, holding his face between her palms, bringing their foreheads together, still smiling.

Aemond left a soft, sweet kiss on her lips, and carefully placed the daisy behind Y/n's ear when he let her go.

-She remained in the bag, separated from the bouquet. - He smiled, caressing her soft hair with the back of his hand in a reverent way, and Y/n practically trembled with joy at the sound of his voice and his touch.

Hearing footsteps coming down the hallway, Aemond left a sweet kiss on her forehead and disappeared through the secret passage. And when Rhaenyra entered, she only arched her eyebrow when she noticed the slightly wilted flower stuck in her daughter's hair, but decided not to comment.

From then on, the days seemed to pass like the wind in winter. The rest of the family came by ship from Dragon Stone, while the preparations for the wedding were made with all the care in the world, with Y/n smiling and giving her opinion on every detail.

Jace was appalled by everything that had happened. The intention was to disappear with Aemond, not to marry him to his sister. And no matter how much he tried to dissuade his mother, she was adamant about the idea, as for Y/n, she laughed at his expense, constantly emphasizing the great fool he had made.

Letters and more letters with invitations were sent, and as the wedding day approached, nobles from all over the kingdom arrived in Kings Landing to witness the celebration of a marriage that many believed would bring lasting peace to the kingdom.

When the day of the wedding ceremony finally arrived, Y/n could barely breathe. She hadn't been able to see Aemond up close for two weeks, it was to be expected that the bride and groom would be able to spend time together, but she saw him more when they were hidden than now, with so many eyes watching every possible slip-up before the wedding.

Besides the fact that with so many political and royal tasks for both of them before the ceremony, there was barely any time to talk. She couldn't wait to finally be married to him and nobody never be able to separate them again.

That afternoon, when the sun was high in the sky, Princess Y/n Targaryen entered the sept of Baelor in a beautiful white and gold dress, with a radiant smile on her face, and her arms linked to her stepfather, Prince Daemond, who, on the contrary, had a dark frown on her face.

But what caused whispers to take over the sept was the fact that a Targaryen princess, currently considered third in line to the Iron Throne, behind only her mother and older brother, was getting married with her hair loose and a simple crown of daisies braided on her head, with dozens of other daisies sewn onto the train and skirt of the wedding dress..

"A princess marrying with simple weeds on her head!"

Exalted voices whispered through the sept, trying not to be heard.

What none of them knew was that even though he was up to his neck in tasks, Prince Aemond had woken up early that morning riding his horse and headed towards the royal forest just to pick a bouquet of fresh daisies for his future wife, leaving it on the table in her bedroom for her to find when she woke up.

When Y/n woke up that morning, a smile of pure joy took over her lips as she wove the most beautiful flower crown she had ever made in her life to wear at her own wedding. And making the royal seamstress almost growl at her, Y/n ordered the rest of the daisies to be sewn into the train of her wedding dress, only being satisfied when the last of the flowers was attached.

She didn't care about any mocking looks or laughter from the other nobles who spoke of her dress full of weeds. The only eye that mattered was Aemond's, which looked at her wide-eyed and full of happiness so wide that it almost made the already huge smile on her face tear up her cheeks.

When Daemon finally handed her over to Aemond reluctantly, heading to his place next to Rhaenyra, the septon stood up and everyone immediately fell silent as the wedding ceremony began.

The two repeated the septon's words, breathing deeply as they looked at each other in love with an almost childlike happiness overflowing from their eyes.

After uttering their oaths of fidelity and love, Aemond removed a sapphire ring from his cloak, making Y/n's eyes water at the same time while her lips trembled with anticipation.

-Is-Is that the one? - She whispered only for him to hear amidst a trembling smile as she extended her hand to Aemond.

-Mmmm. - He murmured as he nodded positively with a sideways smile. - Exactly the same stone. - He whispered very quietly, but with a palpable pride in his voice. - United forever now, wife.

And under the watchful eyes of the septon and the entire court, Aemond kissed her hand, making her smile beautifully at him, and then he caressed her daisy-scented hair, gently running his thumb over the flower petals.

-Forever now, husband. - She sighed back, laying her head against the palm of his hand and closing her eyes as she felt the soft touch that would forever be hers now, ears ringing moments later with the deafening noise of the court's applause as Aemond finally placed a sweet kiss on her lips, the first they had finally married, the first of the beginning of a lifetime together.

divider credits, It took me hours to find this perfect divider, thank you to the sweet person who created it! 🥰💕

Final notes: I saw somewhere (I don't remember where) that daisies are weeds! And I became obsessed with this fact because I had no idea that a flower that I like so much is considered a weed by many! From this subtle information and the request mentioned here, this story came about! I hope you like it! 💖💖💕🥰

Ps: Aemond only didn't call Jace a bastard on the island because Y/n was there, and he wouldn't be foolish, but know that inside he did! 🤡😂

[headkiss]

it’s christmas (this is gonna be a nightmare)

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: steve puts a little too much pressure on himself to make this holiday a magical one. or: 4 times steve messes up your first christmas together, +1 time it's perfect.

word count: 7.4k

content: established relationship, one injury (no blood!), some kisses, a lot of steve's thoughts, and a love confession <3 fluff all around!!!

a/n: a full length fic!! it's a christmas miracle!! thank you to the anon who sent the ask that inspired this fic and to all of u for being here. i love u, happy holidays <3

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

Steve Harrington doesn’t know too much about what exactly a perfect Christmas looks like. He has his parents to thank for that.

What he does know is that this year has to be just that: perfect. Because this year he has you.

Though you went to high school together, you and Steve properly met in the summer. Right at the beginning of it, where the evenings still have a chill of wind but the sun cuts through it with welcomed warmth. Robin convinced him to take her to the flower shop just outside of town, and you’d been behind the counter to greet them.

Robin recognized you, and she chatted your ear off while you helped her pick a bouquet with the sweetest smile Steve had ever seen and he felt like an absolute moron for never having noticed you before at school. But he noticed you then.

He’d forced Robin to wait for him in the car while he stayed back, bought you your own bouquet of flowers from the store as if you weren’t the one who’d made them, and asked you on a date. Steve fumbled the whole way through, pricking himself with a rose thorn and cussing mid-sentence, but you still said yes.

You’ve been together ever since, and Steve feels incredibly lucky for it. Lucky for how kind you are, how well you fit in with his friends, how much the kids (Max, especially, though he won’t call her out on it) like you. Lucky for being allowed to grab your hand, to kiss you whenever he wants.

And, on the nights you stay over that grow more frequent with each month, lucky to have you fill the space in the Harrington home that usually feels so cold and empty.

So, maybe the holidays make him extra sentimental, maybe he cares a little too much about making sure it’s the best damn Christmas you could have. Maybe, for once, he’s actually looking forward to it all.

Robin startles him into the present — leaning on the counter at Family Video — with a stiff poke to the cheek. “Dude, I can literally tell you’re thinking about her by the look on your face. It’s kinda gross.”

He scoffs at her, even though he probably was making a face. “Sounds like jealousy to me, Buckley.”

“Shut up, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t even know each other! I deserve compensation.”

Steve hangs his head dramatically. Robin is never letting that go. Ever.

“My friendship isn’t enough for you?” Steve says, placing a hand over his heart, “You wound me.”

“You annoy me,” she says, flicking his arm.

“Ow- whatever. You’ll be free of me in like five minutes.”

Steve checks his watch just to be sure. Robin’s closing by herself today, and while Steve would normally just stay and bother her anyways, he’s got plans that involve you and takeout and napping together on his couch.

As if the thought conjures it, you walk through the door, the bell jingling cheerily above your head, Steve’s car keys dangling from your fingertips. (Yes, he lets you drive the BMW.)

“Thank God,” Robin says when she sees it’s you. “Please get rid of him, he’s getting on my nerves.”

You smile and walk towards Steve, who immediately tosses an arm over your shoulders and pulls you in close, stamping a kiss to the side of your head.

You turn your head to the side and look at him, “What did you do?”

Steve gasps, “Me? Honey, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

You send him a wink, and Steve grins. He fucking loves having you with him, being able to speak without speaking. Your hand grabbing his and squeezing says I missed you, his squeezing back says me too.

“Okay, please remove your public displays of affection from the store and leave me alone with the overplayed Christmas song radio station, thank you.” Robin announces.

“Don’t miss me too much, Robs. I know it’ll be tough,” Steve says, guiding you forward.

“Good to see you, Robin!” you wave on your way out.

“You too!” And just before the door closes behind you, Robin’s voice rings out; “You’re my favourite half of the relationship!”

Your smile widens. Steve is the best thing that’s happened to you, and his friends becoming yours is one of the greatest bonuses you could ask for. It’s like his life made room for you as simply as the ocean’s tide pulls in and out. Gentle and certain.

He catches the keys when you toss them to him, and Steve’s mood just seems to lift and lift on the drive back to his place with you in the passenger seat, Christmas lights lining the streets glowing on your cheeks.

Yeah, he thinks, this Christmas is going to be perfect.

-

1.

That weekend Steve calls you and tells you to be ready by noon and to dress warmly. He doesn’t tell you much else besides his usual ‘see you soon, honey’ or ‘miss you’ murmured sweetly through the phone.

As instructed, you’re dressed in a pair of jeans and one of your favourite knitted sweaters, your brown leather jacket overtop and socked feet stuffed into your Doc Martens. Though you feel plenty warm, Steve will probably fuss over you and hold you close for body heat anyways. And, well, you’d never be opposed to that.

Steve’s BMW rolls into your driveway exactly one minute past twelve, and by the time you walk outside to meet him, he’s already standing on the passenger side of the car waiting to open the door for you.

“Always a gentleman,” you say, kissing him quickly on the cheek.

You slide into the seat that’s become yours for the most part, and Steve ducks down to kiss you properly on the mouth before pulling back, “Mm maybe not always.”

He closes your door and you laugh lightly, your face a little warm even though he’s been your boyfriend for months now. You don’t think you’ll ever be unaffected by Steve Harrington’s charm, ever be used to it being aimed at you.

Of course, you knew of him in school, but knowing the real thing, the kind, caring boy who’d been buried under King Steve back then, is probably the greatest gift you’ve ever had.

Steve drives with one hand just above your knee, his thumb running back and forth over the stitching in your jeans. Still, he doesn’t tell you where he’s taking you, his only hint was to “pay attention to the radio station.”

It’s playing Christmas music. Like that narrows things down a whole bunch.

You chat the entire way. Steve asks you how the flower shop is doing (“Poinsettias are flying off the shelves”), you ask him who he got for the group’s secret Santa this year (“Max. I’m going to need your assistance”). It’s so easy to talk to him, to laugh and joke and not have to worry about what you say or how you come off.

You never knew being with someone could be so easy until Steve.

Eventually, he pulls into the long driveway of a farm. A Christmas tree farm, to be exact, if the wooden arch you drive through is to be trusted.

“What are you planning, Harrington?”

He shrugs, his hand squeezing your knee, “Thought we could pick out a tree together. Put it up at the house. My parents aren’t gonna be around — shocker, I know — I figured we’d do it together. Make it our own.”

Steve pats your leg before letting it go and putting the car in park, his palms dragging over his thighs like he’s suddenly nervous.

“Our first Christmas tree,” you say quietly, almost to yourself, a smile creeping onto your face. He really is sweet. “I love it. Let’s go adopt a tree, Stevie.”

He flashes you a smile before getting out and jogging around the hood to open your door for you. You’ve learned to wait for him to do it since you’ve been together. The last time you tried to open your own door he made you close it again just so he could be the one to open it.

Before, you’d never really cared about that sort of thing, but Steve has single-handedly raised your expectations.

He grabs your hand and leads you towards the classic red and white barn, following the signs painted simply with a tree and an arrow pointing you in that direction.

When you turn the corner and see the selection of trees, however, Steve pauses.

There are maybe seven trees left, none of which are very impressive upon first glance. Their branches are skinny and the pine needles leave a lot of space to see through them. It’s safe to say these aren’t the Christmas trees Steve was hoping to surprise you with.

He was sure there’d be something better left, at least. And he’d been wrong. Minus a point on that perfect Christmas, he supposes.

Still, he walks you to the selection, the farm’s employee greeting the two of you as you walk up; “Hey y’all. Good afternoon!”

“Hey man,” Steve starts, “you wouldn’t happen to have any more trees left, would you?”

“Sorry folks, this is all we’ve got. Most people like to get ‘em early.”

Steve’s hope dwindles, and you can see him deflate a little bit.

You, however, don’t mind one bit. You tug on his arm to get his attention, and Steve turns to look at you, brown eyes shining like honey in the sunlight. “It’s okay,” you tell him. “Even the little trees need homes, right?”

He shakes his head with a small smile. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you tend to talk about plants as if they have feelings. You do it when you tell him about the flowers you sell, too.

“Right as usual, honey,” he decides. “Pick your favorites.”

So, you wind up with two small Christmas trees rather than one full one, and there’s a small victory in it when you and Steve strap them both to the top of the BMW without too much of a struggle.

Another victory when you sing along to ‘Last Christmas’ and hold out your fist as if there’s a microphone in your grip to get him to join you. Admittedly, it isn’t a very good rendition, but Steve loves it all the same.

You have a way of turning things around for him, even without knowing it.

When you get back to Steve’s, he brings both of the trees inside and sets them up before bringing down the bins of ornaments and lights from the attic. He only shouted once when a spider crawled over his hand.

Having two trees makes it easy to turn decorating into a lighthearted competition. You both claim one as your own and decorate them with string lights and tinsel and ornaments. Steve’s mom would probably have an aneurysm seeing them used so haphazardly.

Though by the end, your tree is definitely prettier, Steve still feels like he’s won something as you lean your back against his chest and his arms cross over your own, keeping you there.

As a kid, he wasn’t even allowed to do the decorating. Mrs. Harrington had to make everything look picture perfect, and Steve’s hands didn’t help with that. Not according to her.

Today couldn’t feel more different from those memories of his childhood.

“Yours is better,” he tells you, chin perched on your shoulder, his voice low in your ear.

Objectively, it probably is better (your prior experience with arranging plants was an advantage), but you don’t actually care about that.

Today felt like a little glimpse into the future you and Steve could have. It’s easy to picture it: your own apartment, buying decorations you both actually like, setting it all up together every year.

“I think they’re both brilliant,” you say.

And while today wasn’t what he was picturing, wasn’t what he’d hoped for with his ideal holiday in mind, Steve finds that he can certainly live with that. Your adorable little clap when you’d finished decorating was enough to cement it.

It’s only one thing. He’s got plenty of chances to be perfect later, he guesses.

Steve dips his head and kisses the top of your shoulder over your sweater.

-

2.

You stay over at Steve’s that weekend. You’re both off work, and you find yourself spending your days (and nights) off with Steve more and more.

In the morning, you blink your eyes open slowly, naturally. No alarm set, your boy wrapped around you. It’s how you’ll spend every morning someday.

The sunlight sneaks through a crack in the curtains, cutting a line across Steve’s blue bedding. You squint at it, shifting onto your back gently. Steve’s arm remains slung over your waist as you move, his knee against your leg. You roll your head to the side to look at him, a smile creeping over your mouth at the way his cheek is smushed into the pillow, his lips pouting and hair a mess over his forehead.

Mornings have easily become your favorite time to spend with Steve. He’s cuddling you in some way every single time without fail, even when he wakes up. His voice is all low and gravelly from sleep and it feels like an honor to get to be the one to hear it like that. Usually, you spend an hour in bed with him after waking up. Laying together, talking, kissing. Sometimes (often) more.

You’d stay put right now if you didn’t have to pee so bad.

Slipping out of bed without Steve noticing proves a challenge, his arm tightens over you in his sleep, his brows scrunching. You whisper a soft “I’ll be right back.” He mumbles something incoherent, but his arm relaxes and you’re able to sneak away.

On your way back from the bathroom, you pause and take a peek out the window. You gasp happily at what you see: snow. A bright, white layer blanketing the ground sparkling in the sunlight.

You turn back to the bed and let yourself fall to it with a bounce, earning another grumbled protest from Steve, but there’s no way you’re going back to sleep now. You trail a hand up his arm to his shoulder, giving it a small shake, “Stevie, wake up.”

“Hm?” his eyes scrunch before opening. “What happened, honey?”

“It snowed!”

“Yeah?” he huffs a laugh at your excitement, his hand searching for yours in the sheets.

“Yeah, and it’s so pretty. We should go out before it melts.”

“It’s winter, sweetheart. Not gonna melt that fast.”

“Steve.”

“Okay, okay,” his hand leaves yours in favor of wrapping itself around you again, and he uses it to tug you close again. “Just five more minutes.”

His nose is pressed to the top of your head, and he breathes you in, smiling to himself. Mornings are Steve’s favorite, too. Only when they’re spent with you.

Secretly, he’s also happy about the snow. He was hoping mother nature would be on his side so that he could check yet another holiday item off his list with you. Hopefully one that will turn out nicer than the tiny trees you’d ended up with.

It’s definitely more than five minutes by the time you get Steve to get up and out of bed. You attempt to get him outside right away. He stops you with a: “No snow-related activities on an empty stomach!”

So, it’s a rushed breakfast of bagels and coffee provided by Steve, and then you’re gearing up and heading into the back yard.

The cold bites at your cheeks, and the tip of Steve’s nose is pink within minutes, but you love it.

There’s a snowman built together, snow angels made that get ruined when Steve rolls himself on top of you and steals a kiss or five. Naturally, all there is left to do is have a snowball fight.

You start it when you’re still on the ground, a hand sneaking into the snow to grab a handful and pressing it to the back of Steve’s head. He gasps, and you take the opportunity to push him to the side and get up.

“No fair!” he calls. “I was distracted and you went for the hair.”

“Your fault for not wearing a hat, babe,” you laugh.

“Oh, you won’t be laughing for long, honey. You’re in for it.”

And just like that, you’re running around like kids in a schoolyard, hiding behind trees, slugging snowballs at each other and cheering when you manage to not miss.

Steve silently thanks mother nature or the universe or whatever made it snow for the wide smile on your face, your eyes shining with mirth.

At one point, you’re suddenly distracted by something in the trees, and the snowball is out of Steve’s hand before he sees you start to look towards him again.

It hits you square in the face.

A quick “Ow” comes out of your mouth, though it really doesn’t hurt that bad. Your first reaction is just to let it slip, but Steve’s heart sinks to his stomach.

“Shit, honey.” He runs over to you and cups your face in his hands, his mittens soft against your skin as he brushes the snow from your face. “Fuck. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t tryin’ to get you in the face.”

Minus another point, for sure. Perfect Christmas: -2.

“I know, don’t worry,” you tell him, because he clearly is worrying.

“You okay?” he checks. He literally winces when you sniffle, frowns when he sees the way your eyes water. “Honey. I’m sorry.”

“Honestly, Steve, I’m fine,” you reach up and grab his wrists, squeezing them over his jacket. “I’m only crying ‘cause it got my nose. It doesn’t actually hurt.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you assure him. “Didn’t you used to play sports in school? Thought athletes had better aim.”

“I was a swimmer, baby. No projectiles involved.” He smiles softly when you laugh, but he can’t stop himself from asking one more time. “You’re really not hurt?”

“It’s just a bit of snow, Stevie.”

His eyes run over your face anyway before he nods. Then, he dips forwards and lightly kisses your cheek, the other, the tip of your nose, and your mouth.

“Well now I’m certainly all better,” you say against his lips.

Steve pulls back but doesn’t go far. “I think this snowball fight is over.”

“Buzzkill,” you tease.

He bends down and picks up a handful of snow before shoving it in his own face.

“Steve!” you laugh.

“There, now we’re even,” he says, snowflakes clinging to his lashes.

You let him lead you inside after that, his arm draping over your shoulders, yours hugging his middle as you walk across the yard.

Once you’ve both shed your layers of coats and boots and hats and mittens, Steve takes you upstairs and runs you a bath to warm you up. He apologizes another two times when he looks at your face for too long, and you have to kiss him to stop him uttering another ‘sorry.’

Hell, if it’s gonna make him this sweet on you, you’d probably take a snowball to the face any day.

Eventually, when the bathtub is full, a layer of bubbles over the surface, you coax Steve into joining you. He leans against the side with you between his knees, back settling into its home against his chest, his chin resting atop your head.

Steve runs his hands over your shoulders, presses kisses into your hair. All along he’s reminding himself that the next thing will go right. He won’t be throwing anything, at least.

-

3.

The next weekend Steve calls you again. He asks you to be ready in the evening this time, but still keeps things vague other than the fact that you’ll be outside and need thick socks.

You have a pretty good idea of what he has in mind, but he’d called it a ‘redemption date’ over the phone and even though you truly don’t think he has anything to redeem himself for, you don’t want to spoil his plans, so you play along.

He comes to the front door when he picks you up this time, knocking gently as if you hadn’t been waiting for him by the windows.

“Hi, honey,” he drops a quick kiss to your lips, “had to come and approve your outfit. Don’t want you getting cold and stealing my jacket again.”

He’s lying, really. Steve fucking loves draping his own jacket over your shoulders and seeing you pull it tighter around you. When that happens, he braves the cold, but he figures that probably won’t be smart for spending hours outside.

“Aww, but yours is so much warmer than mine,” you pout jokingly.

Steve simply grabs your thickest jacket from a hook by the door and holds it out for you to slip your arms into.

As suspected, he drives you to a skating rink. He chose one a town over from Hawkins, where they have twinkle lights strung above the rink and rainbow Christmas lights lining the boards. Steve smiles when you gasp lightly in delight at the sight of it. The brightness cutting through the already dark night sky.

Steve guides you over to the skate rental booth first, bumping his hip into yours when you attempt to pay for the rentals. “As if. My idea, my wallet.”

“You don’t even let me pay when it’s my idea, either.”

“Well, that’s just chivalry, babe.”

You roll your eyes at him and thank the man behind the booth when he hands you both your skates. As you walk towards the lockers and cubbies set up nearby, you lean up and kiss Steve’s cheek, his light stubble scratching your lips.

“Thank you for this,” you say.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he tells you. “Though I should warn you that I’m not very good at this.”

“What? You, not good at something? Please.”

“No, seriously. I’m like bambi on ice.”

You laugh and shove his shoulder weakly, “Don’t worry. I’m probably even worse.”

Steve grins. So far, so good. This one will be perfect. Well, as perfect as it can be considering his skating skills.

You sit on one of the benches and Steve puts both of your shoes in one of the cubbies. He ties his own skates first before kneeling in front of you to help you with yours. He knows how to tie them, at the very least.

He helps you slip your feet into the skates first, then tightens the laces on one before peering up at you and checking, “Feel okay? Not too tight?”

“It’s good, Steve. I feel like Cinderella.”

“A perfect fit! She must be the one!”

“Dork.”

“That’s prince dork to you.”

Steve finishes up with your skates, squeezing your ankle before setting your foot down and standing back up.

On the ice, neither of you are very graceful. You hold onto the boards most of the time, and Steve stumbles and nearly falls every few strides, but you’re laughing and having fun, so who cares?

So what if you get lapped by multiple people on the rink, including children? So what if you get some side eyes for being too slow or in the way? Neither of you can bring yourselves to be bothered.

Best of all, Steve keeps a hold on your hand the entire time. He literally saves you from falling with his grip on your hand squeezing and pulling you up straight.

However, your hands being clasped also means that, inevitably, when one of you goes down, you both do.

It happens after a decent amount of laps; your toe pick catches on a dip in the ice and it’s all it takes for you to lose your balance. Steve somehow twists himself to catch the brunt of your fall.

He expected that to come with some pain, a couple bruises, maybe. Instead, his wrist twists painfully against the ice as he falls, as if he’d tried to catch himself with it, and he can’t help the hiss of pain that comes out when he lands.

“You okay, honey?” he asks you.

“Of course I am. I landed on you, Stevie. Are you okay?”

He tests his wrist out by flexing it, wiggling his fingers, and he tries to hide it but he winces when he does, a sharp pain shooting up his arm. “M’fine.”

“Bullshit, I saw that wince, Harrington.” You manage to get back up on your feet and hold out a hand for him to grab, “Up, I’m taking you to the ER.”

“No, no. I’m good.”

“Steve.”

“Baby.”

“Come on, you don’t want to make it worse, do you?” you urge him. “Plus, I’ll only keep worrying and bugging you about it until you let me take you to the doctor. Your wrist is already swelling, babe.”

Mostly because he doesn’t like the thought of you worrying about him, Steve agrees.

When both of your skates are off (your doing, this time) and given back to the booth, you reach into Steve’s coat pocket and grab the keys to the BMW. He doesn’t protest, and that alone tells you he must be hurting more than he’s letting on. You even manage to open your own door for once.

Steve’s quiet on the drive to the hospital, his hand resting limply on his leg. His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezing shut every so often when a burst of pain comes. You do your best to avoid any pot holes or bumps along the way.

Once there, you make him sit in one of the waiting room chairs, “I’ll get the check in forms and everything. Stay put, yeah?”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, trying to joke. His voice wobbles a tiny bit, though.

It’s at least an hour of waiting before someone can see him (and that’s including your many pesterings to the front desk). You don’t mean to be a bother, but you’ve never seen Steve injured in any serious capacity, and it’s messing with your head.

He took the weight of that fall to make sure you wouldn’t get hurt. The way he pays attention to things like that is one of the many reasons you love him.

You love him. You haven’t said the words to each other yet, but you’ve felt them for a long time already. It’s hard not to love Steve Harrington.

Finally, the doctor takes him back, and you follow. After an x-ray and some prodding, he determines that it’s a sprained wrist and that he should keep it wrapped for a few weeks to make sure it heals. They give him a prescription for some mild painkillers, too, for the first couple of days.

You breathe a sigh of relief knowing it isn’t broken, but Steve’s shoulders are still slumped.

He’s in pain, sure, his wrist now wrapped up in a tensor bandage, but really he feels defeated at messing yet another thing up. Third strike.

Steve lets you guide him back to the car and drive back to his place. You’ve decided you’re staying the night to take care of him, and as much as he hates looking weak or feeling useless, he’s glad to have you around.

You dote on him back at home, grabbing an ice pack from the freezer after making sure he’s settled on the couch, throwing a frozen pizza in the oven, bringing him meds and water.

“Honey, it’s just a sprain. Please stop fussing and sit with me.”

His brown eyes shine a little, and you could never say no to him when he looks at you like that.

You sit beside him and he drops his head to your shoulder, your hand coming up to play with the strands at the nape of his neck, scratching his scalp gently. His uninjured hand rests on your thigh and squeezes.

“Best painkiller ever,” he says.

-

4.

Steve has convinced himself that nothing could possibly go wrong this time around.

His plans for today involve staying at home, just you and him, no outside forces to deal with or avoid. So much less potential for failure. That’s what he thinks, at least.

Steve knows nearly every piece of you, so, obviously he knows you like to bake. You’d made him a cake for his birthday, and every so often you bring him other treats from home. Naturally, that meant that there was no way he was leaving out Christmas baking.

He’d considered doing gingerbread houses, and then remembered that the last time he tried that in a competition with the kids, his house was nothing more than a messy pile of gingerbread slabs. One with a bite taken out of it.

So, considering his past failures this holiday season, he’d settled on something that he thinks — hopes — is really hard to mess up: sugar cookies.

His mother’s collection of cookbooks had never been used for more than decoration until now. Steve searched through them until he found a recipe, wrote down the ingredients, and bought them at the grocery store to make sure he had everything.

In school, he never did much studying, but he reread the hell out of that recipe in order to get at least this one thing right.

The tensor bandage is still wrapped around his wrist, which is fucking annoying, really. He has to adjust it every day, and it’s hard to do with a single hand. He much prefers when you do it for him, sealing it with a featherlight kiss.

Worse, the thing still hurts, and you refused to let him drive and put more strain on it than necessary, so you took the bus and walked the rest of the way to his house.

He’s got all of the ingredients and tools laid out on the island when you ring the doorbell. “Hurry up, Harrington, it’s freezing!”

Hurry he does. He lets you in and helps you unwrap yourself from your bundle of a scarf and hat and mittens and jacket. Steve dips in to kiss your cheek, your skin cold against his lips. “Wouldn’t have to freeze if you let me come get you.”

“I don’t want you hurting yourself for no reason, I’m fine,” you grab his uninjured hand and kiss the pads of his fingers, “and I like these hands.”

He smiles at your words, smug, “Yeah, I know you do, honey.”

You shake your head at him, but you’re smiling all the same, “I take it back. Your ego is getting too big.”

“Nooo, it’s just the right size,” he winks.

“Don’t you have plans, Steve?” you ask, changing the subject. “Getting a little off track, aren’t we?”

“Later, then,” he says, taking your hand with his good one and leading you to the kitchen.

You pause at the entryway of the kitchen, scanning over the things on the island, two aprons Steve must’ve dug up from somewhere hanging from the knobs of the cabinets.

“Tada,” he says, “we’re making cookies.”

“This might be my favourite one yet, Stevie.” You walk over and grab one of the aprons, leaving the other (a pink floral number) for Steve. “I’m in charge, though.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he says, taking the other apron without a complaint. “This is your kitchen today, chef.”

“Mm. That has a nice ring to it.”

“Chef honey,” he says, planting a kiss where your neck meets your shoulder, breath warm even through your shirt.

You get started after that. Predictably, you make a mess with flour on the island and mixing bowls strewn about the surface. You get distracted with a bit of a flour war somewhere in there, Steve smudging it onto your cheek, you onto the tip of his nose.

When it’s time to roll out the dough and cut out the cookies, Steve grabs a handful of cookie cutters from one of the drawers, setting them onto the counter with a small clang. They’re all holiday themed. Candy canes and snowmen and Christmas trees.

“Someone’s prepared,” you say, bumping your hip against his.

“I run a serious establishment here, baby.”

“I thought I was in charge.”

Soon enough, after sneaking bites of raw cookie dough and cutting out as many cookies as you could manage, they’re placed into the oven, the timer set.

You end up in the living room, a random channel playing on the TV while the cookies bake. It starts innocently enough, just sitting next to each other, shoulders and thighs pressed together.

Then, Steve’s good hand wanders, starting above your knee and moving up and up until he’s squeezing the top of your thigh, tracing patterns with his thumb. When he speaks a husky, “Come closer?” how could you ever say no?

So, somehow, you’ve ended up straddling Steve’s lap, his injured hand resting loosely on your waist, the other pressed in between your shoulder blades to keep you close. Yours are in his hair, running through the strands, tugging even.

It grows heated fast, and all of a sudden you’re making out like a pair of teenagers, Steve urging you to press further down in his lap, to writhe there while his mouth works yours until it’s all you can think about. All you can feel.

The room feels warmer, Steve’s jeans tighter over his lap, your chest bumping against his, hearts racing. Even just kissing him feels better than anything you’ve ever had in the past.

He kisses you like he’s starved everytime, sometimes a ravenous hunger, like now, or, when he’s gentler, something tender and soft. A sweet tooth.

The cookies are long forgotten. The timer sounds and nobody hears it. You would keep going forever, if you could. But then there’s the smell that hits your nostrils. The smell of something burning.

“Steve?” you say against his mouth.

“Uh-huh?” he breathes.

“Do you smell that?”

He pulls back, and it’s immediately after you say the words that the alarm goes off, piercing through the air, killing the mood, much to your dismay. Even more to Steve’s.

“Fuck,” he groans.

You’re both rushing to the kitchen then. You, fumbling off his lap, him beating you to the kitchen and frantically taking the baking sheet out of the oven and turning the thing off. You grab a towel from the counter and start fanning beneath the alarm to get it to go off, and when the cookies are dealt with, Steve joins the efforts.

Eventually the thing stops beeping, and you both rest your arms. The room still looks a little cloudy, the cookies black at the edges.

Steve doesn’t say anything, only rests his elbows on the island and slumps his head, defeated.

He’s so frustrated with himself. Not for kissing you. No, he could never be mad at that, but at the outcome of his final attempt at a holiday date going south again.

You frown at him, walking over and placing a hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles. “Steve? You okay?”

“I just- I messed it up again.”

“Hey, I’m as much to blame as you are. It takes two to tango, as they say.”

He huffs a weak laugh, picking his head up and twisting to look at you. Your pretty face, eyes nothing but kind. Fuck, he loves you, and he just wanted to show you that. To make Christmas as magical as it's supposed to be.

“I really wanted it to go well, you know?”

You realize then that he’s not only talking about today. That he’s been putting this pressure on himself all month to make plans and something has happened every time. You don’t blame him for that, if anything, it makes your heart ache with adoration.

“Steve, it doesn’t matter to me. Things happen, it’s okay,” you kiss his bicep lightly. “I’d rather things go a bit wrong with you than to have them go right with someone else. You are the best part.”

“I-” love you, he almost says. But he doesn’t want the first time to be like this, in a room that still stinks. “You’re the best part for me too, honey.”

You decide that next time, it’s your turn to do something for him.

-

+1

Steve comes home from work on Christmas Eve, eyes tired and feet hurting despite having worn relatively comfortable shoes today.

He’d tried to get the day off, tried to be able to spend it with you in bed for hours and hours and not getting up until the afternoon. Keith had other plans for him.

He even tried to dramatize his wrist injury. Still, he was forced to go in.

Walking up the driveway, Steve sees the glow of lights inside filtering through the curtains. He’s fairly certain he hadn’t left any on, but he also knows he’s often wrong about these things, so he shrugs it off and goes inside.

There’s noise coming from the living room. Crackling of the fireplace that he barely ever uses, music playing quietly, and then he hears you humming along.

“Honey?”

“Yup, it’s me!”

You know where the spare key is, Steve’s the one who told you the information and encouraged you to use it, but you’ve often been too nervous to do so. Not today, it seems.

While Steve was at work, you’d set up your plan for him.

He follows the sound of your voice without much of a thought, a moth drawn to a flame. When he turns into the living room, he stills.

There are strings of warm white Christmas lights hung about, the fireplace is actually housing a fire, and in front of it is a fort made up of red and green and white blankets and pillows. Some plaid, some with snowflakes, all Christmas themed.

“Did you do all of this?” he asks, walking slowly to where you stand by the fort.

“Figured it was my turn to organize a date, don’t you think?”

“Baby. This is all really sweet, but wha-”

You cut him off, “Uh-uh. Let me explain.” You reach for Steve’s hands, and he meets you in the middle willingly. Suddenly nervous, you shift your weight on your feet. “I thought we could do presents a little early.”

His brows scrunch, “But Christmas is tomorrow.”

“Please?” you ask, squeezing his hands once.

And, really, Steve would never say no to you. Especially not when you’re saying ‘please’ all sweet and delicate like that.

“Okay,” he says. “Yours is in my room. I’ll go grab it. And change; I smell like Family Video.”

“‘Kay, Stevie.”

You kiss his cheek before he goes for good measure.

Steve is confused the entire time, wondering what it could be that you’re up to, but he does as he said he would. You’d been wearing a set of pyjamas (one he loves on you; a soft baby blue pair of shorts with a matching sweater), so he goes for one of his pairs of plaid pants and a plain t shirt before grabbing your messily wrapped gift bag from where he’d hidden it under his bed.

Back in the living room, he finds you now settled on the ground of the fort, which you’d lined with fuzzy blankets and the biggest of the pillows. His gift is sat beside you, a gift box wrapped in a lovely bow. Your skills of wrapping bouquets are transferable, he’s learned.

He joins you, sitting across from you, but close enough that your legs tangle and knees bump.

“You go first,” you tell him.

“Okay,” he scratches the back of his neck, handing you the gift bag. “Let me explain it before you say anything.”

That grabs your attention, but your plans aren’t about his present to you, really, and you know you’ll love it no matter what because Steve knows you better than anyone.

You lift out tissue paper first, uncovering multiple different things inside the bag, also wrapped. It pieces together as you go. A toothbrush, toothpaste, a hairbrush, your entire skincare routine, a couple of pyjama and underwear sets.

“It’s so you don’t have to bring an overnight bag every time you stay over now. I, um, cleared out a couple of drawers in my dresser and the bathroom.”

“Steve,” you look at him, heart squeezing. It’s so thoughtful, so him, and you surge forward you wrap your arms around his neck and breathe into his skin, “I love it. Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Perfect.

“You really think so?”

“Of course I do,” you sit back into your spot. “You know I hate carrying things.”

“I never let you carry anything, honey.”

“Exactly,” you nod. Now, you hold out his gift for him to take, “Your turn.”

You watch Steve’s hands as he tugs the bow undone, then lifts the lid of the box.

Nestled inside are four delicate ornaments. A Christmas tree, a snowman, an ice skate, and a plate of cookies. One for every date he’d planned for you.

Steve frowns at them, not because he doesn’t like them, but because he doesn’t quite understand where you’re going with this.

“I thought it was time we started collecting our own ornaments. For our place, one day,” you tell him.

“They’re lovely, but honey you- you really wanna remember these things?“ he shakes his head, more at himself than you. “I messed ‘em all up.”

“There’s one more thing in there,” you say quietly.

The thing you're nervous about. A thing you’ve never said out loud before.

Steve finds it beneath one of the ornaments, a small piece of paper folded up. When he opens that, his heart stutters in his chest. Written in your handwriting are three words: I love you.

He blinks away from the paper to look at you, though his thumb continues to trace the words absentmindedly. “Honey-”

“I love you, Steve. Okay?” You shift closer, kneeling at his side, your hands coming up to frame his jaw, your fingers kind against his skin. “I don’t care that things didn’t go how you planned. I mean, I would rather you didn’t require an ER visit, but the point is that I don’t need things to be perfect. And I know you’ve been hard on yourself trying to make them so.”

He lets go of the paper and reaches up to grasp your wrists, his thumb finding your racing pulse. His uninjured hand holds on tighter than the other.

“Thank you for trying for me,” you continue, “for caring. But no matter what happens, things are perfect for me. Because I get to do them with you. Got that, Harrington? You’re perfect, and I love you, and-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. It’s a simple but firm press of his lips against yours, but it says enough.

“I fucking love you too, honey,” he says, his forehead against yours, lips only a breath apart. “You saying all of that it means — you mean a lot to me.”

“Yeah, well, I meant it.”

“I know you did,” he nods. Steve pulls back the tiniest bit to be able to see your face fully, his sweet brown eyes locked on yours. “I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect, and I didn’t wanna let you down, but you’re right. They were perfect, because you’re here. And I love you for bein’ here.”

“As long as you’ll have me,” you say. You push his hair off his forehead before letting go of his face and sitting back, “Why don’t you give those ornaments a try?”

“On those trees?” he asks, eyebrows lifted, voice joking.

“Steve.”

”Okay, okay.”

He picks up the skate first. Surprising, considering that one had ended in a physical injury for him, but you say nothing and watch him walk over to your little trees by the window. You join him, sitting on the arm of the couch nearby while he scans over the tree.

“Pick a spot, handsome,” you encourage. “There’s really no wrong answer here.”

He goes to hang the first ornament, hand wavering before setting on a branch.

“Well, maybe not-” Steve tackles you onto the couch before you can finish. You dissolve into giggles as he pokes at your ribs, his head on your chest.

Steve’s done keeping score.

Perfect Christmas. That’s it.

⁺̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇⊛̇̇̇̇⁺̇̇̇◍̇̇̇⁺̇

thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed please please consider leaving a comment and/or a reblog and letting me know what you thought! it would mean a bunch of<3

[ellecdc]

Do you think you’d ever be interested in doing a poly!jily x reader fic? I love your work and think you could come up with a lot of fun things with it. Like maybe where lily is acting how James did with her but towards the reader and James is ever so amused with it

this was such a cute prompt! thanks for your patience as I waited for the right idea for it! xx

poly!Jily x fem!reader who is the latest victim of Potter level affections [884 words]

CW: fluff, reader is maybe a little feisty? but we love her for it

“What in Merlin’s name?” Sirius whispered in disbelief as he approached Lily and James in the library; the table they were currently occupying was nearly overflowing with pink poster board, glitter, and an array of charmed flowers clearly pilfered from the greenhouses.

“What are you two up to now?” Remus asked as he cautiously pulled a chair that was free of ribbon and lace.

“Preparing for my N.E.W.T’s, can’t you tell?” Lily retorted, the small quirk of her lips was the only proof Remus got that her words were in jest before her tongue stuck out between her teeth again as she tried to tie a difficult bow.

“Jamie, can I borrow your finger, please?” She asked around an exasperated sigh; James appeared all too eager and willing to oblige. 

“It’d be my honour, m’lady.” He offered with a saccharine smile. 

Lily shook her head at him but smiled nonetheless as she completed her bow.

“Right, so, back to my earlier sentiments; what in the buggering fuck is going on here?” Sirius spat, not nearly as careful as Remus had been as he dumped various craft supplies onto the ground to free up a chair for himself. 

“Yeah, who are you trying to woo now, Prongs?” Remus taunted, earning him a snort and a head shake from James who never removed his lovesick gaze from Lily. 

“This is all her.”

“Evans!?” Sirius beseeched. “Who are you trying to woo!?” 

“We’re both” Lily corrected as she offered James a half-hearted glare “pursuing Y/N.” 

“Y/N? Didn’t an owl deliver her a box of chocolates just yesterday?” Remus asked.

“Those were from us.” Lily replied, her focus steady on the craft in front of her.

“And a bouquet of flowers the day before that?”

“Yup.” 

“And the howler that simply played ABBA’s Take a Chance on Me?”

“What is your point, Sirius?” Lily harrumphed as she stepped back to admire her creation.

A mischievous look took over Sirius’ face that Lily didn’t notice on account of her attention being solely dedicated on her current task of wooing you, but had Remus bracing for impact.

“Say, Prongsie, what was the first box of chocolates you sent to Evans in your attempts to pursue her?”

“The toffee flavoured truffles that I saw her eyeing at Honeydukes!” He responded quickly, and Remus watched as Lily’s brows furrowed. 

“Right, and how many bouquets of lilies did you send her?” 

“Forty-two.” 

“Uh huh.” Sirius drawled. “And, remind me, what song did you send Lily via howler?”

“Lay All Your Love on Me!”

“And tell me, Evans, where’d you get all this?” He asked as he pulled a string of lacy ribbon between his fingers only for Lily to rip it away from him.

“From James’ trunk. Stop touching it!” 

“Oh gods, you’re just as bad as he was!” Sirius cackled, and Lily turned to look at James who was simply smiling at her.

“I…I am not as bad as he was. I- …he was such a toerag!” 

Sirius snorted. “Then that makes you a toerag-ess.” 

Lily looked like she was reaching for her wand to hex Sirius for his shite, but James grabbed her wrist and brought her knuckles to his lips for a kiss before she could manage to. “Don’t worry, Lils. You came around eventually.”

“Six years later.” Remus chuckled under his breath, though he immediately regretted it when Lily’s horrified face whipped towards him.

“Six years later!? It took me six years!?” She nearly shrilled. “We don’t have six years! We have months!”

“No one can deny you, my beautiful Lily flower.” James cooed as he rubbed his thumb over Lily’s knuckles.

It looked like his attempt at placation had almost worked before Lily noticed you walking by.

“Wait! Y/N!” She shouted, nearly tripping over various ribbons and boxes of craft supplies as she hurried after you. “Did you get the chocolates we sent you yesterday!?” 

“You guys are so hopeless.” Sirius muttered, earning him a small chuckle from James, though he never got a chance to respond.

“Potter!” You hissed as Lily forcibly led you towards their table with her arm around your shoulder. “This goes against every feminist urge in my body, but would you control your woman!?”

James simply rested his chin on his hand as he gazed at the two of you. “I wouldn’t dream of it, angel.” 

Realisation seemed to dawn on you as a group of fifth years walked past whispering “oh Merlin. It’s happening again.” 

“You’re kidding me.” You deadpanned as Lily smiled and pressed her nose into your cheek.

“There’s nothing funny about our feelings for you.” James responded earnestly.

“Well,” Sirius cut in, “it’s kind of funny.” He countered, nodding his head towards the table that looked as though cupid himself had thrown up on it. 

“Oh, like you haven’t sent Lupin a howler or two of your own, Black.” You sneered, causing Remus to choke on the sip of water he’d been taking and Sirius to gawk at you in surprise. 

“Where do you find these birds, James?!”

James simply let out a dreamy sigh as he beamed at you. “Heaven.” 

And by Lily’s effervescent smile pointed directly at the side of your face, Remus could tell she more than agreed with that sentiment.

[kaivenom]

How would Benedict Bridgerton court you... HCS

Masterlist

You both first crossed glances at a ball, you were not a debutant, just passing around, just like his sister Eloise, you weren't much interested on claiming attention, but you catched his.

His first thought when he saw you in the back of the salon, tapping your feet to the rythm of the song while looking at a big painting was that he needed to paint you.

He spent the rest of the night, admiring you from the distance, until you both almost bumped into each other.

Inmediatly he took the chance and asked you to dance.

It was the funniest night you both had, cause after the dance, you talked about art, and drinked, and danced again, all night until your mother decided it was time to leave.

After that night, you didn't heard from him in a couple of weeks, you almost thought he forgot about you.

The thing was that he was collecting information about you, everything he could find that he knew you would like.

Then a bouquet of your favourite flowers came to your door, signed by the name of "Your artist", you knew it was him, but he surely wants to be romantic so you let him be.

A couple of days later, your favourite crystals, and then gems, and fabrics, and art supplies.

With this routine of secretism, a couple of months passed by with his gifts demostrating that he knows you.

You saw each other a couple more times during balls and dances, until you decided to approach him again.

"Why do you sent me notes but not talk to me?"

"I want you to see that i can know you better than anyone, plus i want you to be as crazy in love for me as i am for you."

A smile escaped both of your lips, suddently you had an idea.

You dropped your fan carefully and he inmediatly get down to pick it up.

"So... that's how you like to play then." he told you with a smirk.

"You said you wanted me to get crazy about you, who says i can't play that game too?"

"Then we both must play."

The once innocent game of knowing each other turned into a rollercoaster of temptation.

Small touches while dancing, innapropiate comments while talking in public, purposely moving to the corner of the room to have more privacy with your not so discreet behaviour.

(I firmly believe that Benedict is a switch with a very brat behaviour, so picture that)

Until your mother decided that you were going to marry a noble.

Thats when the game stopped and started to get serious.

Benedict distanced himself from you and you got so sad from the lonelyness that awaited your future that you wouldn't leave your room.

Your mother didn't let you alone in any social act, that means that you can't talk to him... ike that could make a change.

One week until the wedding and everything feels bad when suddently you received a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a note.

"I will not cut you like this flowers, but i will keep you to myself no matter how, with love Your Artist.

You almost broke in tears right there, your mother entered the room with your future husband to finish some business.

They didn't even care to ask you what happened, the just talked about your future like nothing.

One of the servants announced Benedict and everyone on the room turned around.

"I am here to propose."

"Too late, she is my fiancee." you couldn't believe what was happening.

"I double the endowment, my mother and brother approved it."

You know your mother will marry you to the best match she could find, which means the one who could provide more money.

After verifying everything was right, your mother inmediatly sent out your now ex-fiancee and welcomed with open arms your new husband.

"How?" you asked him, still processing.

"I intended to send you that flowers yesterday, i don't know why they got today." he sounded more concerned about his time planning that your tear, "Oh, you mean all the other things, sorry for ignoring you, once you got engaged my family forced me to separate myself to not staint your virtue... so i was convincing them to let me marry you."

"I..." you kissed him on the lips with passion, with all the emotions you've been keeping inside.

"I think we should wait to the weeding night, in a week." your eyes opened surprised while he justs smirks, "I didn't want any longer to kall you mine, so i managed to get a wedding licency too."

"I love you."

"I know, and i love you too."

[miserycanary]

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him. 

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out. 

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again. 

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love. 

| The letter: 

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go. 

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[leonw4nter]

A Soft Spot for You

RE2R!Leon x F!Reader

Your phone buzzes into life, the once dark screen illuminated to a caller ID interface. The insistence of your persistent ringtone has you picking up your phone to check out who could be calling, though you have a clear idea of who could be the caller. The incoming phone call reintroduces noise into your home, as silence has long filled in the space when Leon had left hours ago to have drinks with friends and coworkers back at the police station. He initially planned on politely declining the offer, intending to stay at home with you as he is a homebody at heart, but your unrelenting attempts at getting him to go made him cave in. Besides, this would be a great opportunity to interact with his friends and make new memories. Your boyfriend’s smile commands your heart to take flight, even through a contact photo; his grin wide and warm, eyes squinted into joyful crescents, as he holds a bouquet of flowers close to his chest in his graduation from the police academy.

“Baby?” you ask as you hold your phone up to your cheek. You hear faint giggling, mumbling, some shuffling, and an unfamiliar male voice talking to some other person. “Hello? Who am I talking to?”

You hear some more shushing before someone finally responds to you. “Hi, I’m Chris. I’m Leon’s friend and he’s had one too many drinks tonight. He needs to be picked up, he can’t head home like this.” You’ve seen Chris before when you visited the station to get Leon cups of coffee when he had to stay in for a night shift, a tall man with exceptionally amazing arms and a neat Ivy League haircut.

“Baaabyy?” Someone drawls but this time his voice is familiar. It’s Leon and judging from the hiccup and giggle that followed, he must be a lot more plastered than Chris is describing. “I’m soooo hiccup dizzy…”

“He’s going to puke!” Chris says in an alarmed tone. “Jill, help him to the toilet! It’s going to smell like unwashed ass in here if he hurls!”

“Jill?” You ask.

“She’s a coworker,” he clarifies. “You better get here quick, he’s a mess. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of him while we wait for you. Here’s the address but call me again in case you’re confused–”

“I loooove you!” Leon’s voice distantly calls out, probably done puking.

“I love you too,” you say before hanging up. You set your phone down to gather what you need: coat, shoes, purse, some plastic bags, and your ID. With your things ready, you leave the comforting warmth of your home and head out to find a taxi. 

Finding a cab wasn’t too difficult so you got on the first one that you saw and gave the driver the address that Chris sent. The driver seemed familiar with the place so you told Chris that you’d get there in a few. Instead of acknowledging the message you sent, he sent what seemed to be several photos and videos combined. ‘You’re gonna want to watch these,’ he followed up. In all the attachments he sent, Leon’s hair was messy and sticking out; his eyelids were droopy, cheeks and ears the reddest you’ve ever seen them, his black shirt no longer wrinkle-free with his dark teal jacket dangling off of his forearms. In one (blurry) image, he’s bent over on a toilet as Jill pats his back; there appears to be a creasing frown on her face, probably from the smell in a cramped space. In another image, he’s sprawled out on a couch in what would be impossible for sober Leon to get into. In a video you clicked by random, he’s looking around for a marker.

“Dude, what?” Chris says from behind the camera. “I told you, there’s no markers in here.”

“Need to hiccup write… her name on… on my hiccup arm… can’t let anyone g-get to me…”

“This kid’s going places,” Jill mumbles from somewhere.

The next video is shakier, as Chris is now somehow chasing Leon. You don’t understand the flurry of movement until you catch a glimpse of Leon chugging a bottle of Smirnoff Ice, much to the horror of a middle-aged man nursing his beer in the corner.

“Barry, what do we do?” Chris asks, catching his breath. “How is he faster when he’s drunk?! That doesn’t make sense!”

You’re giggling hard now, a hand clasped over your mouth as you try to keep yourself silent inside the car. There’s tears brimming your eyes as you rewatch the video over and over again, a snort escaping your mouth which prompts the driver to look at you dead in the eye through the rear view mirror for a moment. In the last one that you click, your boyfriend is now leaning his forehead against Chris’ shoulder as he mumbles to himself.

“Angels, they’re– hic– real because I… have a girlfriend,” he begins.

“Mhm,” Chris follows.

“I think she can probably heal… sick puppies,” he adds. “I dunno… I– hic– love her sooooo much. My name’s jus’ a word… but hiccup when she says it, it’s like… it’s like–hic– the law… right, Chris?”

“Right.”

“hiccup she looks at me! Like… I’m her hero, or somethin’. She has hiccup the option to hiccup choose other men… but she picks me! Me, Chris!”

“She did,” Chris affirms and Leon giggles, shaking his head before another hiccup shakes his frame.

As he slurs nearly poetic nonsense, you find yourself oddly charmed by his drunk sincerity. You watch other videos, embarrassed yet undeniably touched by how aggressively passionate Leon can get while talking about you. To you, it’s unbelievable how much more adoration Leon can have when he’s drunk as he’s already so full of it when he’s sober.

“I miss my girlfriend, man.”

“You just saw her hours ago and you’ll see her again when you get home.”

“Love ‘er sooooo much hiccup I want… I want… I want hiccup a hug.”

“Okay, c’mere bud–”

“Noooo. Not from you, I want a hug from her.”

You giggle at the other pictures and videos, the trickster side in you wanting to show these to Leon at breakfast as he nurses a killer hangover. You send three sobbing emojis in response to the clips, finding them hilarious. You assumed that Leon would be the sleepy drunk type of person, dozing off in the corner once he’s had too much, but it appears that he’s the talkative type.

You get there and see that it is mostly empty, save for a few people that you recognized in the video. Chris gives you a nod and leads you to Leon, who is now being prompted to drink a tall glass of water.

“I’m so sorry for how he’s acting,” you sheepishly say as you help Leon stand up. “I’m sure he was so annoying.”

“Good to see the rookie’s treating his girl right,” Jill comments with a smirk. “He wouldn’t stop rambling on about you but it was sweet to be honest.”

“The station’s going to love this,” Chris grins. “We’re never going to let him live this down.”

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

On the quiet ride home, he clung to your arm with both his hands as he rested his temple against your shoulder. Upon arriving home, you first sit him down and undo the laces of his sneakers as he tries to fight off sleep and keep a conversation with you going. You give him another glass of water, encouraging him to finish it before taking his jacket off of his warm body.

“Somethin’ you wanna say?” You gently prod as he stares up at you, pupils inky and wide.

“You’re making me nervous,” he admits as the flush of his cheeks grow bolder. “You’re very… beautiful.” His actions are reminiscent of a teenage boy gushing about his out-of-league crush.

“Thank you baby,” you say with a wink. His eyes widen and his breath catches in his throat before he clears his throat and tries to look composed.

You help him to the bathroom to get him cleaned up before ending the night. Brushing his teeth proved to be cumbersome but it would lessen the taste of alcohol and vomit. You wipe him as much as you can before you bring him to bed, changing his clothes before tucking him in.

“Pills,” you mumble to yourself as you walk over to your side but your boyfriend, confused and teetering between sleep and consciousness, holds on to your wrist.

“Don’t go,” he softly pleads.

“Huh?” you ask. “I was just going to get some pills and water for when you get up.”

Far too drowsy to properly respond, he unwraps his fingers from where he held you and you get to fetch him what his hungover self will need tomorrow. You walk back into the room and set them down on his side before climbing into the sheets and snuggling up to him, the alcohol in his body making him a lot more warm.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

A quiet yet unmistakable sound of a groan comes from your bedroom, signaling that he’s awake. You walk inside, greeting him a chirpy good morning.

“What happened…” he asks, rubbing his forehead.

“You had too much to drink last night, “ you say. “Did you take the pills already?”

“Yeah. I feel like I got hit by a truck,” he adds.

“Well, breakfast would make you feel so much better. There’s some ready in the kitchen.”

He quietly heads over to the dining table, taking his seat and adding his serving of food onto his plate. After a few moments of silently chewing, you ask him something you’ve been wondering since you’ve woken up.

“Do you remember anything from last night?” You ask.

“No, not really. I’m never drinking ever again... my head hurts so bad,” he responds.

“You’re going to want to see this,” you say with a wicked grin as you show him the pictures and videos from last night. “I think these will jog your memory a bit.”

He’s baffled at first, confused by what he’s made to watch until his eyes widened, mortified and embarrassed at seeing himself.

“They’re never going to let me live this down as a rookie,” he says as he hides his face in his shirt.

NOTE - I was supposed to upload this last night but unfortunately my laptop died and my charger was downstairs but here it is anyway :3 this fic is inspired by "Soft Spot" by Keshi, I really love the song and have been looping it ever since I started working on it. Also this fic is another simultaneous writing project like the one before this and I worked on it within an hour at like... 1 AM coz I just got this sudden burst of creativity right before I was about to sleep. I'll try to write for other versions of Leon coz I've been writing for RE2!Leon so much 😭 Also to my smut writer mutuals or anyone who writes smut that came across this, feel free to drop any advice in my messages coz I wanna write smut (on a separate blog) but I feel so awkward typing it out LMAOAOA. Anyway, that's all <3 thank you for reading my ficsss!!!!!! I <3333333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The dividers (the ones with the heart and stars) are made by @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[verstappen-cult]

# THE BOYS MEETING YOUR PARENTS

INTRODUCING THE BOYS. lando norris. charles leclerc. oscar piastri. max verstappen. alex albon. daniel ricciardo. mick schumacher. logan sargeant.

Gwen’s radio message. . . 💬. you don’t know how much i missed doing these f1 grid headcanons! thanks to the anon who sent the request in the first place. i use a few different prompts for this, if you wanna check them out: one, two and three. <333

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

You’re waiting for your parents at the restaurant, Lando by your side looking like he’s about to meet his death. You notice that his leg is jumping anxiously beneath the table. In another situation you’d make fun of him but not this time, so you grab his hand and squeeze slightly, pulling him out of his head. You reassure him that everything will be okay, that “you’re going to be fine. They will love you just like I love you.” and Lando tries to smile, he really tries but he’s nervous. He’s meeting your parents, the most important people in your life, and he wants to make a good impression. You make small talk, trying to give him a few tips, what he can say to your father or how to compliment your mother’s dress. In the end, he didn’t have any reason to worry. Because after the initial greeting Lando is already in a deep conversation with your father about cars while your mother looks softly between you two. They leave with the promise of having dinner at their house next week. Lando can’t stop ranting about how interesting your father is and “do you think they would like to go to the next race? I can arrange that immediately. I’m sure your dad would love it.”

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

Charles is about to have a panic attack or at least that’s what you think as you watch him pace around the living room. “You don’t understand. Like I need them to love me because you love them, and if they don’t love me I’ll just, I don’t know, kill myself.” And you can’t help but laugh because you’ve never seen him that nervous, not even on your first date he acted like this. He is a complete gentleman when your parents arrive at your house. Your father hasn’t even parked yet but he’s already waiting at the door with the most bright smile you’ve ever seen. Your mother loves him immediately, but your dad makes things a little hard, teasing him and making him so flustered you think Charles will pass out from how embarrassed he is. However, your mother has your back because she teases him back, engaging in some playful banter. Your heart starts hammering in your chest when Charles leans in and whispers “that will be us one day.”

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

You were nervous when, in reality, you shouldn’t have been. Oscar was natural, he was the one reassuring you that everything was going to be fine while you tried very hard to make him turn around and go back home. He had to park somewhere halfway to your parent’s house to calm you. If his kisses had anything to do with you finally relaxing nobody doesn’t need to know that. But he was right, as always, because dinner went smoothly. You have finished eating, your parents are laughing at something Oscar has said and you feel like you couldn’t be more in love. You are wrong because when your mother stands up to clean the table, Oscar is up in a second telling her to “sit down, I’ll take care of that. Anyone want coffee?” and you fall a little more in love. Oscar disappears into the kitchen and you get up to help him when your mother grabs your hand and softly whispers “He’s a keeper.”

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

Max insisted on buying the most grand bouquet of flowers, the most expensive wine and taking the Ferrari once you revealed just how much your dad loves cars and, especially, Ferrari. You couldn’t laugh even though you found it funny and over the top, but no one has ever done something like that for you. It shows how important you are to him. Your parents love him immediately, your mother is more than happy when she sees her favorite flowers while your dad looks like a fish out of water, unable to close his mouth as he admires the Ferrari parked outside their house. Max makes the mistake of asking him if he would like to take a ride and they leave for thirty minutes. He makes conversation with your parents during dinner, they humiliate you a bit and bond over how spoiled you are. When it’s time to go, your mother hugs him so tightly and says “thank you for taking such good care of her.” 

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

You’re coming out of a store when you see your mother across the street and before you can turn around and pretend you didn’t see them, she’s calling your name. Alex is surprised and doesn’t know what to do, choosing to stay a few feet behind because “I’m not ready! I need to mentally prepare myself to meet her and I’m wearing fucking shorts and a shirt, I can’t meet her like this.” but your mother sees him and her face lights up. “Is this the young man you’ve been hiding from us?” and Alex can do nothing more than accept your mother’s hug and the kiss on the cheek. When you laugh he sends you a death glare and you know you’ll be hearing about it all the way home. She invites you to have dinner because “dad misses you and he will be so happy to meet Alex.” and you were gonna decline her offer, really. But Alex beats you and accepts instead, telling her that “we would love to! But come to our house, we will cook for you.” 

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

The first thing your mom says when she opens the door is “have you eaten? I made this delicious tiramisu, come on!” as she grabs Daniel’s arm and drags him to the kitchen, leaving you behind with your bags and the bottle of wine you insisted on buying. You don’t take too long closing the door and following them, but once you enter the kitchen Daniel is already sitting on a stool with a big plate of tiramisu in front of him. He sees you and smiles with his mouth full, and it would’ve made you laugh if you weren’t so offended. Your mother washes the dishes and makes small talk with Daniel, asking him random things about himself to get to know him better and he’s more than happy to answer all of them. When ten minutes go by without your own mother acknowledging you, you decide to speak because “you’re not gonna ask if I want a plate too, mother? Your own daughter?” which she takes as a good opportunity to tell a story about your childhood and humiliate you in front of your boyfriend. 

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

You weren’t supposed to find them, that’s what Mick tells you when you ask him “baby, are these… flashcards?” surprised when you start reading them and is all the information you gave him about your family during the week. He is embarrassed and it takes a lot of convincing and kisses to make him look at you. “I want to be prepared, okay? I want to make a good impression and this is my way to achieve that.” And, well, he is right. Because when the day comes, Mick fits so well. He asks your little brother about university and gives him a few tips, he asks your mother about work and your dad about horses, he even sits down with your little sister to play with her dolls. Everyone loves him. If you have to listen to your family tell embarrassing stories about you, you will endure it if it means you’ll keep seeing Mick’s bright smile. 

★ — LOGAN SARGEANT (2)

Logan wants to run. Yes, it was his idea to invite your family to a baseball game but “I still can get out of here and you can tell them that I’m sick. Or you can tell them that you don’t want me to meet them and we can run away to the Maldives or som—” you cup his face and shut him up with a kiss before he can keep talking nonsense. “You need to breathe.” It takes a while but he regulates his breathing eventually and doesn’t feel like passing out anymore. Logan still thinks that is best if he doesn’t attend the game and is actually about to make his escape when your brother yells your name. Before you can join them at the entrance, you hold Logan’s hand and whisper how much you love him. Logan forgets all about his anxiety once you are inside the stadium and he has a beer on his hand. Your dad makes sure to make him feel welcomed, including him in his and your brother's conversation. When you are home that night, getting ready for bed, Logan tells you that “I’m going fishing with your dad tomorrow.” And honestly, what the hell?

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[sushiyuzu]

afterparty

warning: fluff + tension + pet names (“kitten” & “sweetie”)

summary: in return for your presence, sylus shows his affection towards you ❤️ [ x fem!reader ]

disclaimer: this fanfiction is inspired by one of sylus’s card (radiant brilliance) from the game “love and deepspace”. while i have taken elements from the original, i have rewritten it in my own style and added my own twists.

note: this story is a work of fiction and is NOT intended to represent the original game’s narrative.

word count: 2.03k

- second acc: @blushpawss

“sylus! sylus! sylus!”

the energy in the arena was intense, with the crowd roaring and chanting sylus’s name. he had just claimed victory, and the spotlight shone on him, making his silver hair glint like moonlight. his crimson eyes scanned the crowd, and then they found you—standing there with a bouquet of flowers in your hands. you had come all this way, just to support him, to be by his side, and that meant more to him than any trophy.

as he walked over to you, wiping the sweat from his brow, his gaze softened. “someone came all the way here to watch me,” he said, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “she said she didn’t want to see me lose.” his voice was low, laced with affection, as he stepped closer.

you couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. “well, i couldn’t just stay home knowing you had this big match. and... i knew you’d win,” you said, feeling a little shy as you handed him the bouquet. your heart raced as his fingers brushed yours, taking the flowers from your hands with a soft chuckle.

“these are beautiful. but not as beautiful as you,” he said, his voice dropping to a tender whisper. the weight of his words made your chest tighten, the flutter of excitement growing stronger inside you.

“you’re so cheesy,” you muttered, but your smile never left your face. before you could say more, sylus reached into his pocket, pulling out something that gleamed in the light. it was his champion ring.

“you know,” he began, his eyes locked on yours, “i don’t wear this for myself. i wear it because you’re the reason i’m here. i wouldn’t have made it this far without you.” he held the ring up, his expression serious yet full of warmth. “so, tell me, kitten—what finger do you want me to put this on?”

you blinked, taken by surprise. your heart skipped a beat as you looked at the ring, then back at sylus. he was offering you more than just a ring; it was a symbol of everything you meant to him. you hesitated for a moment, then softly said, “my ring finger...”

sylus’s grin widened as he carefully took your hand in his. his touch was warm, and as he slipped the ring onto your finger, a wave of emotion washed over you. his thumb brushed over your knuckles, and you could feel the possessiveness in his gesture. it wasn’t overwhelming—it was reassuring, protective. he was claiming you in his own way, showing you that you were his, and that he was yours.

“perfect,” he said, admiring the way the ring looked on your hand. “now you’re officially mine,” he added, his voice dropping to a low rumble that sent a shiver through you.

you couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking your head. “i think it’s the other way around—you’re mine,” you teased, looking up at him. his crimson eyes flickered with amusement, but there was something deeper there too—something soft and tender that made your heart ache in the best way.

“i guess we belong to each other then,” he said, pulling you closer to him. his broad arm wrapped around your waist, his grip firm but gentle, as if he couldn’t stand the thought of you being too far from him.

the crowd had started to disperse, but in that moment, it felt like it was just the two of you, lost in your own world. sylus held his phone up, ready to take a picture. “let’s capture this moment,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. you smiled for the camera, your body leaning into his as his arm tightened around you. you felt the warmth of his chest against your back, his steady heartbeat thrumming in time with yours.

as you smiled at the camera, sylus wasn’t looking at it. instead, his eyes were fixed on you, his expression soft and filled with affection. there was something almost vulnerable in the way he gazed at you, like you were the only person in the world who could make him feel this way. before the picture snapped, sylus leaned down, closing his eyes and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“this,” he whispered against your hair, “this is all i need.” he clicked the photo, capturing not just the image but the moment—the feeling of him holding you close, the way he kissed you with such tenderness, the connection you both shared.

after the picture, he didn’t let go. instead, he buried his face in the crook of your neck for a brief moment, inhaling the scent of your hair. “you have no idea how much i love you,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. you could feel the sincerity in his words, the depth of his feelings wrapped up in every syllable.

you turned in his arms, looking up at him, and saw the way his eyes softened even more. his silver hair, now slightly tousled from the fight, framed his face perfectly. “i love you too, sylus,” you said, your voice just as soft. you placed a hand on his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. “and i’m so proud of you.”

his hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. “you’re the only reason i ever want to win,” he said, his voice deep and full of emotion. he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss that made the world around you fade away. when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours. “thank you for being here. for always being here.”

as the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, you knew that this moment—this quiet, tender moment—was something you’d hold onto forever. the picture on his phone was just a snapshot, but the memory, the love, would last a lifetime.

the afterparty had been a whirlwind of celebration. sylus was the center of attention, but no matter how many people congratulated him, his eyes never left you for long. you stayed by his side, feeling the heat of his presence even in a crowded room. as the night wore on, you couldn’t help but notice the way his touches became more lingering, his hand never straying far from the small of your back.

by the time the party started to wind down, it was already late, and sylus insisted on taking you back to his place. “it’s too late for you to go home alone,” he said, his crimson eyes dark with something more than concern. “besides, kitten... i want you with me tonight.”

you didn’t argue. you couldn’t—not when he looked at you like that, his voice sending shivers down your spine. the drive to his mansion was quiet but charged with anticipation. you could feel the tension building between you two, like a wire pulled taut, just waiting to snap.

sylus’s mansion was massive, secluded in the hills, far away from the city. the moment you stepped inside, you felt the quiet stillness of the place, but it wasn’t cold. the warmth came from him, from the way his hand lingered on your waist as he led you inside.

“make yourself at home,” he said, his voice low as he closed the door behind you. the soft click echoed through the spacious foyer. “you’ll be staying the night, after all.”

you smiled, feeling a little nervous but excited. “are you sure i’m not intruding?”

sylus chuckled, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of you. “kitten, you could never intrude. i want you here.” his hand slid to your hip, his fingers brushing against the fabric of your skirt. “besides, i promised to take care of you, didn’t i?”

his words were teasing, but there was an edge to them, something that made your heart race. “i guess i’m in your hands tonight,” you replied, trying to sound casual, but the way his eyes darkened told you that he picked up on the teasing note in your voice.

“in my hands...” sylus repeated, his voice a low rumble. “i like the sound of that.”

you felt a shiver run through you as he took your hand, gently pulling you toward the grand staircase that led to the upper floors. his grip was firm but tender, and the heat of his palm against yours sent sparks dancing along your skin.

as you climbed the stairs together, the silence between you was thick with tension. every step seemed to heighten the anticipation, the closeness of his body to yours making your pulse quicken. when you finally reached his bedroom, sylus pushed the door open and led you inside.

the room was large, the bed enormous, but your attention was on him. sylus turned to you, his eyes locking with yours as he stepped closer, crowding your space until your back was pressed against the edge of the bed.

“you know,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “i still owe you for coming all the way to watch me fight. for cheering me on, for being there with flowers...” his hand came up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “i should thank you properly.”

before you could respond, sylus leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “unless you’re too tired...” he whispered, his breath hot against your skin.

your heart was racing, every inch of you aware of how close he was. “i’m not that tired,” you managed to say, your voice coming out softer than you intended. the way his lips curled into a smirk told you he liked your answer.

“good,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at you. his hands slid down to your waist, his grip firm as he lifted you effortlessly onto the bed. “because i’ve been waiting all night for this,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he leaned in closer, his lips hovering over yours. “to finally have you all to myself.”

his words made your breath hitch, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. the kiss was slow but deep, a teasing pressure that left you wanting more. sylus was in no rush, his hands sliding down your sides, tracing the curve of your hips.

he pulled back just enough to look at you, his crimson eyes gleaming with heat. “you’re so beautiful, kitten. especially when you’re all mine.” his voice was low, filled with a possessiveness that made your heart race.

your fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer, but sylus was in control. he leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, pressing soft, lingering kisses that made you shiver. “sylus...” you whispered, your voice breathless.

“mm?” he hummed against your skin, his hands sliding under your top, his touch warm and slow. “tell me what you want,” he teased, his lips moving against your collarbone.

you bit your lip, trying to hold back the rush of heat spreading through you. “i want you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

his smirk widened as he pulled back to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with desire. “i like the way you say that,” he murmured, his hand trailing up your side, teasing the hem of your skirt. “but i’m going to take my time with you tonight.”

he leaned down again, kissing you with more intensity this time, his hands roaming over your body with a deliberate slowness that left you breathless. the teasing, the flirting, the tension—it was all building, and sylus was enjoying every second of it.

“you’re mine,” he whispered against your lips, his voice a low growl. “and tonight, i’m going to remind you just how much you belong to me.”

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 16: The One About That Time I Shot an Arrow into the Air

“…It fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight.”

Archery has always been one of my fortes in life. I have absolutely no idea why, but I’m strangely quite good at it. My father, of course, attributes it to my ancestors; something passed down to me in my genes. So, I’m not sure that any arrow I shot into the air wouldn’t naturally find itself in the direction of its intended target. Today, that target would almost certainly be in the jugular of a Cerberus-like creature. Ah, yes, that mythical hellhound with three heads that guards the entrance to the Underworld. Not only does it dictate who can enter the realm of Hades, but also who can leave. And I’m not fond of creatures that would rather devour you alive than let you leave of your own freewill. Plus, could you imagine having three heads with three different personalities? Ugh, that would get confusing quickly. And, even worse, could you imagine all the in-fighting? I mean, an arrow to the throat – if it didn’t dismantle the beast – would almost certainly silence it. Luckily, we don’t have any three-headed dogs in this fandom…

Where am I going with this? Well – besides down a long and winding path that draws attention to the fact I enjoy poetry and archery – actually, I chose today’s poem for a specific purpose. If you haven’t figured it out from my previous cracks about the Kraken, I also like Greek mythology. In fact, learning about Greek mythology at around the age of 11 – yes, that defiant age where we’re no longer interested in Barbie (not that I was ever interested in Barbie) but we’re also not cool enough to be considered teenagers – was the first time I remember finding myself “thinking outside of the box.” And by that, I mean asking the question that I probably should not have said out loud: “If Zeus is a myth, does that mean God is fake, too?” That went down like a lead balloon (and, I hope, no one takes offense to reading that now; it is not meant with any disrespect). My mother was, of course, telephoned by the school and, when I returned home, she greeted me with (something along the lines of) a simple: “Did they answer your question? No? Then I suggest you find it for yourself.”

We all have our own truth, don’t we? Even in this fandom, we are each tasked with choosing our own path. Weeding out facts from speculation and speculation from rumor. Choosing what we want to believe over what is being pushed on us. Overcoming our willingness to follow blindly versus our refusal to be backed into corner. I suppose that’s why I’ve always liked Greek mythology (and, perhaps, storytelling in general) – because it helps us navigate life’s challenges by better understanding human nature. It’s also one of the reasons why my favorite story has always been the trials and tribulations of Eros and Psyche.

Ah-ha! See, I told you I had a purpose for bringing up those damn arrows!

Yes, Eros was the Greek equivalent of the Roman Cupid; that weird little dude who fired love arrows like a bouquet of flowers at a wedding. But Eros wasn’t some creepy little cherub in a cloth diaper; he was the devastatingly handsome God of Love. And he fell in love with the equally beautiful human Psyche. That part about her being human, however,managed to get Psyche some major side-eye from Eros’s mother, Aphrodite. In retaliation for humans worshiping Psyche’s beauty over her own, Aphrodite sent Eros down to earth to pierce Psyche with one of his love arrows so she would fall madly in love with a hideous monster (unfortunately for the Cerberus, it wasn’t them). But Eros defied his mother and, unbeknownst to Aphrodite, kept Psyche for himself hidden away in a castle. There, Psyche lived – mostly happily – with Eros visiting her every night. Eros promised Psyche she could live there indefinitely so long as she never looked upon his face (hence why he only visited her in darkness). But humans have this uncanny knack for being curious and, of course, Psyche peeked. Well, fuck! Haha, I won’t ruin the rest of the story for you except to say, yes, Eros was royally peeved at Psyche’s betrayal, fled their home, and sought refuge with his bitchy mother (because, of course, he did). Devastated, Psyche went clambering up to her pseudo-mother-in-law’s shrine to beg for forgiveness and Aphrodite, being a bit of a bitchy goddess, gave Psyche a series of impossible tasks to complete to prove her worthiness. Amazingly Psyche did in fact complete each of these four tasks but only because she managed to get a little help from some fantastical friends. Well, except for that final task for which Psyche was warned – don’t look in the fucking box. Damn humans.

Like all stories passed down from generation to generation, there are multiple versions of this myth, particularly when it comes to who helped Psyche complete her four tasks. Sometimes it’s one god(dess), other times it’s multiple; sometimes it’s earth’s creatures (the ants, the plants, and the flying things). But my favorite version is the one where Eros was the one pulling those invisible strings – or, at the very least, keeping an eye on Psyche from the shadows – because no matter how angry he was with her, Eros still loved Psyche and wanted to protect her.

Why do I bring this story up? Well, for starters, if you didn’t notice (because you were too focused on carriages and mirrors), Bridgerton Season 3 made quite a few parallels between Colin and Penelope and Eros and Psyche, even referring to the latter by name at the end of the fourth episode. The show also brushed on the importance of trust, the consequences of betrayal, and the idea that love can conquer all. Funny thing is I never thought Colin to be much of an Eros; he made a better Psyche, in my opinion. I mean, he was the one to peek into Penelope’s secret life!

But Colin’s real-life counterpart, Luke, makes a rather entertaining Eros.

On December 16, when Luke reposted to his Instagram stories a link to Nicola’s “Part 1” of her 2024 Year, the fandom went wild. And I’m not talking about just the Lukolas going insane with excitement; the Jakolas were having a field day, too – but not in a good way. The unease they’d almost certainly felt with those coordinated airplane and “Polin” posts from October returned with a vengeance when Luke resurfaced in support of Nicola – the woman for whom he consistently comes out hiding. I realized then that the one person who could simultaneously make the Lukolas’ hearts flutter and the Adjacents’ blood boil was Luke (i.e., our Eros could make Psyche rejoice while making Aphrodite lash out in anger).

If you really think about it, Luke has pulled us out of the black waters of the River Styx multiple times, making him the perfect Eros to our Psyche. Yes, our Psyche. The fandom is absolutely the Psyche of this story. After all, the fandom was the one who betrayed Luke with our collective reaction to Papsmear (but, in the fandom’s defense, that was a shitty fucking day). And, of course, that wench Aphrodite is collectively all the side story bullshit, from the Adjacent narratives to rag-mags sticking their ever-growing noses into places they don't belong.

As we finish out the year, I thought it would be fun to give Luke some credit where credit is due. In other words, I thought I’d highlight four times Luke “Eros-ed” (i.e., “rescued”) us from some mucky ass shit. This is not every moment Luke came out of hiding to do something wonderful; these are simply my top four moments where I believe Luke single-handedly resuscitated the fandom. You’re welcome to share your best Luke moments in the comments.

No. 1 - That Post-Papsmear Thing That Everyone Ignored:

Fuck, yes.

I am starting with the most overlooked event in the Lukola-verse – Luke’s post-Papsmear Cressida story. This is the taproot that keeps my faith in Lukola from falling over during a storm – Luke taking one for Team Lukola by promoting Season 3 using the scene from Ep. 6 where Cressida entered the Mondrich Ball and Colin pulled Penelope aside and told her he wouldn’t let Cressida ruin their evening. Yeah, yeah, Luke totally missed the target with that post but – again, in the fandom’s defense – everyone was still reeling from the sudden-but-not-so-sudden materialization of Antonia at the London premiere. In hindsight, though, you know you want to give him an “atta boy” for basically throwing shade at the Lutonia narrative while using a massive social media platform to do so. It was jaw-dropping, brilliant, and ballsy as fuck.

If you’re totally lost about how entertaining this Cressida story was, go read Entry 1 to be my blog. But, seriously, how have you not read it already?

No. 2 – Delivering the Cake:

Alright, fast forward three months (yes, three goddamn months!) to September 7 when Luke posted pictures from his stay at the Puente Romano resort.

No big deal, right?

Wrong!

It was a big fucking deal because, for starters, Antonia creeped in and posted random pictures of herself at roughly the same time Luke posted his resort pictures. And, of course, Luke had to like Antonia’s Instagram post. To make matters worse (gasp!) Luke’s had palm trees in his pictures which were oh, so reminiscent (but, not really) of palm trees posted by Antonia the previous day to her Instagram stories. Oh my God! And, then the real kicker? Luke’s slide deck included him eating a picture of himself from the London premiere sans Nicola! The horror! I mean, what probably started out as a cute post by Luke turned into a full-on Lukola heart attack within 30 minutes or less!

But then Luke pulled out a defibrillator and revived the fandom. Almost immediately.

After presumably hearing the cries from the Lukola fandom that he’d cut Nicola from the London premiere image, Luke demonstrated through his Instagram stories that (a) he was eating part of a cake (he was even darling enough to put the cake emoji with a smiley face), and (b) that the cake never had Nicola’s image on it to begin with (meaning, he didn’t remove her from it). Thank you for that clarification, Luke. Seriously, the fandom appreciated it.

After they recovered from their near-death experience, the Lukolas finally took the time to look at the images Luke posted. A not-so-random chaise lounge; a random white shirt; a restaurant called El Pimpi (which is a word used for the people who delivered messages to a ship’s crew and passengers); Luke throwing up the peace sign with his now infamous digits in – what appeared to be – the reflection of a glass table; and a reference to cake. It was Lukola- and/or Polin-coded shit. And, to make it just a smidge better, there was no visible reference to Antonia anywhere.

And, yes, I will cut in here to acknowledge that Antonia would, on October 25, include a lone picture of a balcony which was identical to the one Luke posted in his – what I like to call – “clarification stories” from September 7. Do I care about Antonia’s balcony? Not in the least. Could she have been at the resort? Sure. In fact, I’ve always found the idea of Antonia being present quite comical since Luke made it fairly obvious he omitted something (ahem, someone) from his Instagram post and instead filled it with random shit that seemed Lukola- and/or Polin-coded. Plus, if you want me to be perfectly honest, “insinuation” posts from Antonia stopped doing it for me months ago.

Back to what I saying… We must give Luke a round of applause for placating an entire fandom with something as simple as a cake emoji. Bravo, bravo!

No. 3 – Shutting Down the Mean Girls:

We closed out September with Antonia riling up the fandom by posting Instagram story after Instagram story, none of which were worth a second glance from a Lukola except for the “phone screen” one (see “Entry 7: The One Where the Queen Asked, ‘Did That Go the Way You Thought It Was Gonna Go?’” for reference). Oh, wait, there is another story – just for my own amusement – on October 1, Antonia reshared a story where she was labeled “Aphroditi.” Rather convenient for my story today, isn't it? Any ways, the Lukolas were a bit high-strung by October 2 when Nicola announced via Instagram that she had been named as part of the Time 100. Luke liked the post – but apparently to the haters on X he didn’t do it motherfucking fast enough. These weird-ass people do actually exist – the ones that genuinely believe Instagram likes (and the speed thereof) equate to true love.

Any ways, Luke apparently decided he was having none of that bullshit and stepped in on October 3 with his Polin-themed “Mean Girls” story. It was a throwback to a conversation he and Nicola had had in, I believe, 2022 on, haha, X.

“On October 3rd, he asked me what day it was.”

“It’s October 3rd.”

Luke captioned the story, “Xx.”

Not only did the fandom rejoice that Luke had returned to post something after nearly a month away, but the post included a throwback to Nicola, and it came on the heels of Halley Brisker’s now legendary “Nicola lately” post. Yeah, the one with Luke in the background (seriously, convince me it was someone else). Luke’s story also seemed to be one hell of a clapback to a rabid pack animal on X who faulted Luke for not leaving a comment on Nicola’s Time 100 post.

“Xx.”

No. 4 – The Littlest Things:

I debated over choosing Luke’s People magazine interview for the fourth moment, but that interview – although it made the fandom incredibly happy – didn’t pull our heads out of our own asses. So, I decided instead to go with the little things Luke has done over the past few months, namely, joining in on the Like Wars but in his own oh, so subtle way.

Let’s start with Antonia’s September 21 post of – honestly, who the hell cares? She posted and we knew Luke’s obligatory like was coming. It just took 10 ½ hours for Luke to get to it and it was only given after Nicola posted to her Instagram stories pictures from a concert she had attended. Was the fandom a bit deflated Luke liked Antonia’s post? Of course! But it was also fun to see the like come hours after Luke had already been online and on the heels of Nicola popping up online.

On October 11, we had a similar event happen. Antonia posted to her grid and Luke seemingly ignored it for roughly five hours. But, while Luke was ignoring her post, Antonia was going hard at it with Instagram stories and TikTok videos (Nicola, for her part, seemed to be playing her own game on social media during this time). Luke finally liked Antonia’s post and Antonia went silent thereafter. Then, on October 12, Luke officially made it back from his October 4 “Brb” moment and posted “Somewhere in Mayfair” to his Instagram stories. Let the fandom rejoice!

But I’m not stopping there. Let’s not forget about Luke and Nicola’s coordinated “Polin” pictures on October 21 or that, while Antonia was “rolling pasta” on November 17, Luke made it a point to go back and like Nicola’s Dr. Who post from November 15. On December 6, when Luke coughed up a like to Antonia’s grid post, he also handed a like out to Nicola at the same time (and a few others). Do you see a pattern starting to form?

Honestly, I believe Luke is owed a standing ovation for the way he has taken control of his own narrative and managed to deflect from the so-called “importance” of these bullshit Instagram likes. Although Nicola has historically attempted to distract the fandom from Antonia, in my opinion, it was always Luke’s responsibility to diminish the importance of Antonia’s role in his story. And, for the past several months, he has been doing just that – in the quietest way possible.

I’ve decided Luke is a bit like a shadow. Inconspicuous – sometimes even completely invisible – but when the light hits just right, it’s impossible to ignore his immense presence.

When Luke posts, or when he coyly plays around with the Instagram likes – even when he likes Nicola’s posts – it somehow resonates differently with the fandom. Nicola could post her year-end stuff and the fandom would be, like, “Oh, that’s cool.” But, when Luke reshares her post to his stories? “Holy fuck, that’s awesome!” It's a "different energy on set." Somewhere in the middle of all the bullshit that goes on within the fandom, Luke found his own truth. The “Bad Guy” who was “on a break” during Hot Boy Summer somehow became our hero; the shadowy figure that pulls us out of the water and sets our heads back on straight. Over and over again. It's been so subtle, we've barely even noticed.

I’m going to end this entry with the Longfellow poem I quoted at the beginning, mainly because I like it, but also because it’s about something that cannot be easily seen once released into the world but, if found, can have an everlasting effect on us.

“I shot an arrow into the air; it fell to earth, I knew not where; for so swiftly it flew, the sight; could not follow it in its flight;

“I breathed a song into the air, it fell to earth, I knew not where; for who has sight so keen and strong, that it can follow the flight of song?

“Long, long afterward, in an oak I found the arrow, still unbroke; and the song, from beginning to end, I found again in the heart of a friend.”

P.S. In the story, Psyche is rescued by Eros (hurray!) and is made the Goddess of the Soul.

[hughjackmansbicep]

Idk if you’re taking requests now but can you please write a Logan x reader who likes flowers🥺 like someone gives her a flower and she gets very happy so he decides to buy bouquets for her to see her happy

Contains: Logan Howlett X F!Reader

Warnings: Uhhhh none??? Cuss words???

Word Count: 1.08k

a/n: omg my first request!!!! been waiting for one :DD i hopes you like hope i delivered well...... im so bad at making endings i never know how the fluff to do it rahhhhh !!!!! enjoy enjoy feel free to request friends i find this sm funnnnnnn

Unbeknownst to you, Logan took note of everything about you. He’d watch the way your eyes sparkled when you'd walk through the garden; he’d admire the way you carefully hand-selected flowers for whatever bouquet you were making that week; and even though he always seemed annoyed when you'd make whoever was driving pull over so you could pick the wildflowers on the side of the road, he secretly adored it. So when one of the students made a beeline for you, roses picked from the garden in hand, he took extra notes seeing something so simple make your entire week.

“It was just the sweetest thing!” You boasted about the flowers for the thousandth time; Logan didn't mind though; he could listen to you talk all day long. You could've been reciting War and Peace to him, and he'd still be utterly infatuated with every word that fell from your tongue. The two of you were sitting on a bench in the garden as you rambled on about those darn roses when Rouge had appeared holding a vase with the most gorgeous floral arrangement. “These were just dropped off for you.” She spoke, holding the bouquet out. “Oh my! Did they say from who?” You were grinning from ear to ear as you admired the flowers. “Nope! Card didn't say either.” You fished for the folded-over cardstock; opening it just left you with even more questions. ‘In a room full of art, I’d still stare at you’ was all that was printed on the card—no name, no initial, not even a hint of who might this be from. You looked up, giving Rouge a warm smile and thanking her before heading inside to set up your new arrangement.

You'd just finished cutting and placing your new flowers in a vase when Logan waltzed into the kitchen, “Who do you think they're from?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand, “Not sure, but whoever they're from, they certainly know my favorite flowers.” You smiled down at the flowers, thankfully paying no real mind to Logan. His face was completely flush as he tried to mask the smile making its way to his lips with a quick swig from his beer. He just silently nodded in your direction before yelling a quick goodnight to you as he swiftly made his exit out the kitchen.

This continued on for weeks, your secret admirer sending flowers to you, sweet notes attached to all of them. You had saved every single one, keeping them locked in a small wooden box under your bed, and every week when new flowers would arrive, you'd cut a few off from your last bouquet, pressing them in books to also savor. You had interrogated every single person in the mansion about these mystery flowers, but to no avail, no one would confess. You didn't mind though; while it was frustrating to not thank your secret admirer, you appreciated the gifts nonetheless.

“I just wish whoever was doing this would say something.” You exasperated. You were sprawled across your bed staring at the ceiling as Logan sat at your desk picking at his fingernails, something he only did when he was nervous. “Maybe they're scared?” Logan offered, and you flipped to your stomach, looking over to him, "Well, they need to nut up and just tell me, I'm starting to run out of books to press these damn things!” His eyes go wide hearing you've been saving the flowers sent to you, your brows furrowing in confusion at his reaction. “What?” You ask, cocking your head to the side, “N-nothing; I think Charles is calling for me.” He practically runs out of your room after that. 

You 100% knew Logan was the one sending you all these floral bouquets; he made it so painfully obvious, but you weren't going to say anything. Honestly, you wanted to see how long he could keep his little act up. How many more arrangements were you going to get before he finally fessed up? Your answer came 2 months later, when you received a bouquet. The note attached was just coordinates and a timestamp of 7:26 p.m. Punching them into your phone, it was a botanical garden just a couple miles away, a smile creeping onto your face as your cheeks flushed red.

You stood at the beginning of the path in the garden at 7:26 on the dot, your heart a jackhammer in your chest, your breaths shakey and laced with anxiety. It had to be Logan, but what if it wasn’t... Your thoughts were racing in your head, making you feel dizzy, your stomach tying into knots as your heels clicked down the path. Each step closer, you could feel your body tense up like cement was coursing through your veins, hardening with each passing second. 

Rounding a corner to the center of the garden, you spotted an oh so familiar face holding a bouquet of your absolute favorite flowers, the goofiest smile planted on his face when he saw you coming around. “I fucking knew it.” You whispered to yourself; Logan nervously laughed, of course hearing what you said. “Surprisee…” He drew out, opening his arms up to you, wasting no time. You ran over to him, being engulfed in his oh-so-large arms that you loved. “I just saw how happy you were receiving those roses from that kid; I couldn't help it; I love seeing your smile.” He bashfully admitted, and you smiled up at him, planting a big, sloppy kiss on his cheek in response.

“I wanted to tell you so many times, but I wanted it to be special, y'know, because you're special.” His face was burning red as he spoke, “I notice everything about you, from the way flowers make your heart skip a beat to the way you rebuke the societal norms of appointment times.”

"God, I hate that everything is set in 5 or 10 minute increments.” You sighed against his chest, shaking your head. He laughed just at your dramatics, “Exactly why I had you show up at 7:26.” 

The rest of your evening was spent admiring the garden and teaching Logan about every flower you both came across, and of course he listened to everything, absorbing every minute detail he could. If your words were gold, he'd dress himself in them every day; he'd tattoo every sound that escaped from your mouth. You were as precious as rubies to him, and god, he was never letting you go.