#can someone softly critique me

[sneevl13t]

dropping this because i dont want to lose my original work, will edit with every microsoft word page i exceed

02/01 UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE IT IS DUE IN 5TH OF JANUARY BUT I DONT WANT TO COMPELTE IT UH OH!!!

Will the world ever wonder, what comes after death?

Will it be dark, or would I be greeted with the gates of paradise?

Will I be lonely, or will you be there with me?

“Telos!” The voice of a young girl, oh so familiar to the ears of the world, echoed through the meadows. Despite his peace being interrupted, Telos looked back to see Arche running towards him without a care in the world. Within seconds, she crashed onto him, her long, curly blonde hair waving freely in the breeze of the wind. The two kids laughed at the simplicity of the moment, the rays coming from the sunset glistening upon their skin.

After a while, they finally get back on their feet. Arche was huffing due to how fast she ran towards him, a drop of sweat coming down from her forehead to her cheek, eventually dropping down to the ground. “You’re far too energetic for your own good.” Telos spoke with a faux frown on his face, ruffling up Arche’s hair before he went back to admiring the sunset.

Arche, naïve as ever, could only giggle at him. However, his focus on the sunset caught her eye. Why is he so focused on the sunset? The thoughts swirled in her mind as she admired him, almost as much as he admired the sunet.

How does he remain calm in every situation: no matter how big or small?

How does he get blessed for his beauty: his flowy brown hair and iridescent blue eyes?

How does he never see her: was she always his second choice?

The thoughts linger on Arche’s mind for far too long, and her focus was eventually taken away from her best friend. The bellflowers that decorates the meadow lays still, indicating the wind had halted its breeze. “Telos,” She spoke softly, trying to gain his attention. “If we get separated in the future, would you remember me after a century?”

“Are you dumb? I’d be dead by then. Of course I wouldn’t remember you.” Telos replied half-heartedly, even snorting at the supposedly ‘dumb’ question.

Arche felt a flare of disappointment and bitterness in her heart, but she kept her persistence, demanding an answer from Telos. “Come on! Have some creativity for once. You’re always so technical and factual…” There was a clear giveaway of her distress, one of which was the way her eyebrows furrowed and her soft cheeks puffing up.

“Fine,” Telos sighed in annoyance, leaning just a tad bit closer to the younger kid next to him, wrapping an arm around Arche’s shoulder.

“Let’s just say… I would still remember you after a century.” Telos spoke softly, making sure that Arche kept her eyes on him to know that he truly did mean it. “You mean a lot to me, Arche, even if I don’t show it.” He continued, ignoring the distant cries of the meadowlarks which had descended upon their ceremonial meeting place. “And I do realie that this is a serious moment, but I would like to add that the question is still dumb because I know that you know that this will be my answer.”

Upon finishing his words, Telos soon earned a smack in the face from Arche, and the laughter began once more when he saw how bummed she looked. “Hey, it’s the truth! Come on, you know I’m right!” Telos said amidst his laughter, patting Arche’s back as he does so.

Seeing how Arche was still pouting, almost like a petulant toddler, Telos rolled his eyes before dragging her up from the fallen tree log, holding her close so that she remains stable in the sudden change from sitting to standing. “Do you want to go back now? It’s starting to get dark, and I know that you’re a scaredy cat.” Telos teased her, receiving a grumpy grumble in return. He couldn’t help but smile at her act, already walking back to their village.

As the pair made their short way back to home, the darkness of the night slowly engulfing the previous sunset colouring. The squawking of birds, big and small, had begun once more. The magenta bellflowers, which was already beautiful in the sunlight, had somehow glows much more in the moonlight.

[p0orbaby]

can you do a little blurb for leah taking care of reader, they went to skii and reader broke her leg it happened to me but luckily i just sprained it😭

-

The house is too quiet, save for the hum of the kettle in the kitchen and the faint creak of Leah padding back and forth across the wooden floors. She’s muttering under her breath, something about how tea cures everything. You’re not convinced. You’re sprawled on the couch like a tragic heroine in a Victorian novel, one leg elevated and encased in an obscene amount of plaster.

You hadn’t even wanted to go skiing. Leah had insisted. “It’ll be fun,” she’d said. “You’ll love it.” And like an idiot, you believed her.

Now, you’re convinced the only thing skiing is good for is humiliation and orthopaedic bills.

“I brought you tea,” Leah announces, placing a mug on the table in front of you with all the delicacy of a bomb disposal expert. She doesn’t sit immediately. Instead, she hovers, hands on hips, like she’s waiting for a thank you that isn’t coming.

You glance at the tea. “I can’t reach it”

Leah sighs dramatically, though you notice the corner of her mouth twitch. “Do you want me to get you a straw?”

“Maybe”

She rolls her eyes but picks up the mug and holds it to your lips like you’re a baby bird. It’s both endearing and mildly infuriating. “You’re so helpless,” she says, but there’s no malice in it.

“I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t convinced me to strap two planks to my feet and hurl myself down a mountain”

Leah snorts, setting the mug down again. “You were barely off the beginner slope”

“It was steep”

“It was a mild incline,” she counters, but there’s warmth in her voice now, a teasing lilt that makes you want to argue just for the sake of it.

You glare at her, though it’s half-hearted. “You’re enjoying this”

“Not the part where you got hurt,” she says quickly, sitting on the edge of the couch and brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But maybe the part where you have to rely on me for everything”

“Don’t get used to it”

“Oh, I’m treasuring every moment,” she says, her grin infuriatingly smug.

You groan and let your head fall back against the cushions. “I hate this. I can’t do anything. I can’t even wee without help”

“That’s not true,” Leah says brightly. “You managed just fine this morning”

“Only because you held the crutches steady”

“Which I did brilliantly, by the way,” she adds, leaning back and crossing her arms like she’s expecting applause.

You roll your eyes. “Saint Leah of the Crutches. Patron saint of poor, unfortunate souls”

“Exactly.” She reaches for the remote and switches on the TV, flipping aimlessly through channels before settling on a repeat of Bake Off. “You know,” she says, nudging your uninjured foot, “this isn’t so bad. It’s like a little staycation. Except instead of a spa, we’ve got NHS-issued painkillers and bad daytime telly”

You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to stare mournfully at the leg that’s become both a burden and a punchline.

Leah glances at you, her teasing dimming slightly. “Hey,” she says softly. “You’ll be back to normal soon. And then you can tell everyone how brave you were”

“Brave,” you repeat flatly. “I cried when the paramedic cut my ski trousers”

“They were really nice trousers,” she agrees.

“Expensive, too”

“Don’t worry,” Leah says, and there’s that twinkle in her eye again. “I’ll buy you new ones. And maybe some knee pads. Or a bubble wrap suit”

You huff a laugh despite yourself. “You’re annoying”

“But alas, you still love me,” she says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

You can’t argue with that, so you don’t. Instead, you let her settle beside you, her arm slung around your shoulders, and together you watch Paul Hollywood critique someone’s soggy bottom.

[littlelamy]

hi!! i love ur works so far 🫶🏼 if ur taking requests could you do something with ceo rafe x anxious reader and him only being soft for her or something like that

hope you like it! ⭐️ you’d always heard about the cold, ruthless nature of ceo rafe cameron, the way he carried himself with an air of confidence that could intimidate even the most seasoned executives. yet, here you were, tucked away in a small corner of his office, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your blouse. today was the big day—you had to present your project to him and the board.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your head. your anxiety always seemed to bubble up at the worst times, and now, as you sat in front of rafe, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. his desk, polished and imposing, seemed to loom over you, amplifying your nerves.

rafe leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “you look nervous,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. his blue eyes, often cold and calculating in the boardroom, softened when they landed on you.

“i’m fine,” you replied, your voice shaky.

he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “you’re not fooling anyone, you know. just take a deep breath.”

you tried to follow his advice, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. it helped a little, but you could still feel the tension coiling in your stomach.

“come on,” rafe said, his voice low and encouraging. “let’s practice. you can do this.”

you nodded, appreciating the way he’d shifted from his usual commanding presence to someone who genuinely wanted to help. rafe wasn’t just your boss; he was someone who seemed to understand your struggles in a way few others did.

as you began your presentation, your voice trembled, but rafe remained focused, leaning forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. he didn’t interrupt or critique; instead, he nodded along, offering you a reassuring smile that gave you the confidence to keep going.

“see? you’re doing great,” he said softly as you stumbled over a few words, his encouragement a balm for your frayed nerves. “just keep going.”

you glanced up at him, finding solace in his gaze. there was something so disarming about rafe in these moments, a stark contrast to the cutthroat businessman everyone else saw. you found yourself drawn to this softer side of him, the part that only seemed to emerge when it was just the two of you.

when you finished, you released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “was that okay?” you asked, anxiety creeping back in.

“more than okay,” rafe replied, standing up to walk around the desk. he leaned against it, closer to you now, his presence both intimidating and comforting. “you nailed it. you’re brilliant, you know that?”

the praise warmed your cheeks, and you could feel your heart fluttering in your chest. “thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure how to respond to such kind words.

“and you don’t have to be nervous around me,” he added, his expression serious. “i’m not like the others. i want you to succeed.”

your heart swelled at his sincerity, and you felt a connection forming between you that you hadn’t anticipated. in this high-pressure environment, rafe’s kindness stood out like a beacon.

“really?” you asked, needing to hear it again.

“really,” he confirmed, moving closer. the distance between you felt charged, electric. “i care about you. i always have.”

you swallowed hard, your anxiety momentarily forgotten in the weight of his words. rafe cameron, the formidable ceo, was softening for you, and it made your heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified you.

“do you want to go grab coffee after this?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours. “i think you deserve a treat after your hard work.”

your stomach flipped at the idea, excitement mingling with your nervousness. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“great. now let’s get through this board meeting, okay?” he said, a playful smile on his lips. “and remember, i’m right there with you.”

as you moved to leave, rafe gently took your hand, pulling you close. you looked up at him, your heart pounding. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight as he rocked you gently from side to side. the warmth of his body against yours was grounding, easing your nerves in a way you hadn’t expected.

“you’re going to do amazing,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. and before you could fully register what was happening, he leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. it was sweet and tender, a promise that he would always be there for you.

when he pulled away, his eyes searched yours, filled with warmth and affection. “now, let’s show them what you can do,” he said, his confidence radiating off him as he led you toward the boardroom, hand in hand.

with rafe by your side, you felt emboldened, ready to face whatever came next. and as you walked together, his presence felt like a shield against your anxiety, a reminder that even in the cutthroat world of business, there could be moments of kindness and warmth.

as you entered the room, you caught rafe’s eye, and for a fleeting moment, you knew that no matter how tough things got, he’d always have your back.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude

[sweetimpurity]

i think i speak for alotta Miguel lovers...but we need more blue collar Miguel. Bots AND fics.

🍊 no.2

Whatever you like. Mechanic. Engineer. Construction. Welder. Bricklayer. Tiler.

Could be in a relationship with us or maybe just the guy who comes around.... Oh even a maintenance man. Handy man. Bob the builder. Nah. But we all know we'd love to see him working a car..

Thank you anon for all these wonderful requests! I'm working my way through them and consuming the necessary media to do these justice haha! I love it! 🍊

These bots can all be found on my profile: sweetimpurity on c.ai!

Blue collar husband ೄྀ---ˊˎ-

He’s tired and dirty after work…

He's tired and dirty, sore and achy. Coming home after an insanely long day and walking up the steps to the front door is his last big hill to climb. All he could think about all day was your pretty face. He absolutely hated leaving the bed this morning. Wanted to stay there with you in his arms. But his job is demanding and tough. A different construction sight, more shingles, new bricks to be laid all the time. But he does it all for you. Even more than for himself.

He finally makes it to the door, opening it with his key and stepping in. Relishing in the quiet of the apartment, knowing you're in here somewhere.

"Baby, I'm home..." He calls softly, putting his bag down, peeling his jacket off and the hat he was wearing pretty much all day. "Jesus..." He sighs, seeing the dust covering the brim of the cap, watching it fall off onto the carpet and onto his hands. "I'm filthy..."

Handyman Miguel  :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ

He’s come to fix your pipes… 😉

The faucet is leaking again. Of course. Because as soon as you get someone to come fix your radiator, something else would break. With the cabinets under the sink wide open, towels scattered across the floor, the boards under the sink soaked and warped, cleaning supplies and things all scattered across the kitchen floor... you're just waiting for your savior to finally come. The plumber you called in a sort of emergency request to help stop your floor from completely flooding through.

So antsy you wait here. You live alone so there aren't any roommates sharing in your panic. Watching the pipes leak into a pan under the sink, checking it every half hour. Watering your plants on the fire escape with the water that collects. Then instantly putting the pan back under there to collect the water seeping out through the threads of the pipes. Feeling quite helpless.

Finally after this process continued all morning long, there's a knock at the apartment door. You're in the process of bringing the pan back to the sink when you hear it. "Just a second!" You call frantically, putting it down and rushing over to the door. Practically ripping it open. And delivering a long winded explanation of everything that's gone on all day, all in one breath, all in a panic.

The poor handy man stands there, listening to your panicked retelling of all that's gone on. His dark eyes slightly widened, looking down at you from his tall height with soft concern.

Extra! *ೃ༄

Firefighter husband 

Your lifesaver…

"Pa! Pa! Papa!" His little girl squeals, bouncing up and down as he pulls his jacket off and puts his bag down after a long day at the station. Some routine checks and a car accident on the interstate were what made up his day today and he's tired to say the least. But seeing his kids and you makes it all worth it.

"Hey mija..." He grins, picking her up as much as it strains his muscles. Giving her big kisses on her chubby little cheek as she instantly starts telling him all about her day. Soon after, he sees you and the other little ones emerge from the kitchen to greet him at the door. He's grateful for his family after a day like that. To see everyone's faces after the day he had is like heaven.

Kinda went overboard ha! I hope you like them! And if you have any critiques or the links don't work let me know! Love ya! More to come...

[lundenloves]

Please write a fic about price teaching an innocent reader to smoke for the first time and he like praising her and stuuuf omg im begging 🙏🏻😰😰

✧ i’m so fucking fucked for this man. what happened? who let this happen. someone has to be blamed who the FUCK was it. i’m supposed to be a simon girlie, who lives in a world of blackness and upset. there’s been a fucking mixup and malfunction. *sighs with hands on hips* request more of him.

i got him pregnant.

↳ no warnings | 700 wc | gn!reader

✧ anon, you were the straw that broke the camels back. this was typed in twenty minutes. it’s even edited for a lovely change, no i’m not trying to impress price. don’t all my readers look lovely today? *silence* no?

… never back down, never what?

→ masterlist | request info | taglist

“No, that’s—“ He chuckled, sitting forward abruptly to adjust the cigar between your dainty fingers. “We’re not in 1920’s Hollywood. You can use your thumb.” His correction of the cigar between your two fingers was his first critique, now watching intently as you pulled the thick stick from your mouth to look at it. 

“It’s so unnecessarily big.” Your words were accompanied by a raise of his brows and a small shrug, eyes pointedly focused on the lighter in your left hand. “Don’t ask me if I know how to light it.”

He sighed a long exhale, muscular arms crossed over his chest. “Do you?” The taunt in his voice was one that slapped you in the face, turning to him with a mere nod. 

“It’s a fucking cigar, not a bomb.” You lit the end as one would a cigarette, pulling it back from your teeth to check it had caught. “Right?”

Price ran a hand through his hair, dropping it back down to scratch at his beard. “Listen,” He leaned forward, taking the lighter from your hand and holding the flame by the end in continuous slow circles. “Do it like this and it’ll be an even light.” He looked up at you, eyes darting down to your lips and back up. “Till those edges are blackened.”

“Why?”

“And,” He gently took it from your mouth, his own hand manually moving yours upward to meet the cigar. “Light it here, you don’t need it in your mouth.”

You do as instructed, looking up at him every so often for his nod of validation. “It’s a bit different from cigarettes then.” A mutter tumbled from your lips and Price hummed in agreement, his palms now splayed wide across his thighs after leaning back. “What if I fuck it up? Can’t you just do it.”

He shook his head, bringing a hand up to gesture to the flame you were neglecting by staring at him. “It’s just a cigar, not a bomb, remember.” 

You held the light far from the end in similar small circles as to what he was demonstrating. Tongue poking out from your mouth in concentration, lifting the smoke ever so slightly to check each and every leaf was introduced to the light in preheat before closing the gap. “Why can’t I light it from my mouth.”

“You can.” He said softly. “But it takes away from the first inhale. It's just about patience, love.”

You were predictably already growing impatient, twirling it slowly for all of ten more seconds before lifting it to your boyfriend for inspection. “Maybe half a minute or so more,” His hand rubbed at your thigh, squeezing it gently before sitting forward. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” He tilted his head. “Now blow on it, just… gently.” The way his voice almost fell to a coarse whisper sent a shiver down your spine, fighting the urge to glare at him for the unintentional innuendos. “And then a little more heat.” 

You smile at the smoke tumbling from the bottom as a result, blowing lightly one more time.

“Good girl, that looks good. Really good.” He nodded, eyes dropped to the stick in now shared appreciation. “Alright, now you can take the first draw. It’ll be untainted, d’you know why?”

“No idea.” The words come off absent for you’re entirely zoned out, smoke dancing from the cigar and out of your mouth. Price chuckled, his hands clasped together between his legs, elbows leant on his knees through a wide manspread. 

“Because, you didn’t light it from your mouth.” His eyes met yours, warm and inviting when you had passed the cigar back to him. “And after every two or so hits, you’ll just—“ He blew on the end, watching the smoke disperse. “Rid the smoke.”

“This is an art.” You say as he takes it between his teeth, a long draw sparking a bright orange light from the bottom. 

“Mh-hm.” His mumble brought smoke out in small streams, the thickness of the cigar looking much less impressive between his fingers as opposed to yours. “And you did all the work.” 

“For once.”

“For once.”

i um— i don’t have a taglist for price.

any and all cod characters taglist: @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @luvfromkat @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @mistydeyes @dilfdotgov

i wasn’t able to tag @stateofcatonia @yoluvrz and @its-bichin-belle-bitches, i’ll shoot you a dm to help sort it out! (yoluvrz keeps tagging and untagging hmmh)

as always always, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! if no one pats me on the head every so often i’ll sit in a hole.

fucking hell i talk a lot.

[lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Finally after 272637919 years, I finished writing this aaaa. @hanafubukki

Warning: Gn reader, small reader, Lilia being a little shit, fluff

You stood in front of the mirror, biting your lip as you stared at the pair of high heels Vil had lent you. You could still hear Lilia's teasing voice echoing in your head: "Oh, darling, I didn’t realize I was dating someone so tiny and cute, you're almost like a bunny!"

He was constantly teasing you, especially when he’d lean down with that smug smile and ruffle your hair. His provocations were starting to annoy you greatly.

“Well, not today,” You muttered to yourself, slipping your feet into the heels. They were elegant, glistening in the light, and far more intimidating than you expected.

You took a deep breath and stood up, wobbling slightly as you tried to find your balance.

“I’ve got this,” you told yourself, cautiously taking a step forward. It was awkward at first, your ankles threatening to give out as you clung to the nearby furniture for support. You could practically hear Vil’s voice in your head, critiquing your posture, your stance, your lack of elegance.

“Come on, if Vil can make this look effortless, so can I,” you said, taking another unsteady step.

After a few minutes of practice, you managed to take several steps without tripping over yourself. Feeling a bit more confident, you decided it was time to show off to Lilia - who also used heels, so why was he teasing you when he does the same. You made your way to the common room, trying your best to exude the kind of poise Vil was known for.

When you entered, Lilia was lounging on the couch, flipping through a magazine. On his side, Silver was hearing Malleus telling him about gargoyles, yet he was praticall sleeping.

Lilia glanced up, and his eyes immediately widened, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh? What’s this? Have you finally decided to grow a little taller, love?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “No thanks to you and your constant teasing,” you shot back, wobbling slightly as you tried to strike a confident pose.

Lilia stood up, walking over with that mischievous glint in his eyes that always made your heart flutter. He circled you, examining the shoes and how you stood in them, before stopping in front of you.

“You look stunning,” he admitted, his voice dropping to that soft, genuine tone he rarely used. “But you know… I think I prefer you just the way you are.”

You huffed, trying to hold onto your defiance. “You say that, but you never stop teasing me.”

“Oh, but that’s because you’re adorable when you’re frustrated,” He replied, leaning in close. “Besides…”

In one swift motion, he swept you off your feet, causing you to let out a startled yelp. “Height differences make it easier to do this.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck instinctively, cheeks burning as you tried to regain your composure. “Lilia!”

He laughed, that joyful, carefree sound that always seemed to melt your resolve. “You also aren't used to heels, and I can tell your poor feet are starting to hurt, aren't they?" Lilia said softly, eyes meeting yours with that unwavering affection.

"I neither confirm nor deny," You replied stubbornly.

Despite yourself, you felt your frustration melt away, replaced with the warmth of his words. Maybe you didn’t need to be taller, after all, not when he always made you feel like you were the center of his world.

You will still punch him though. For every joke and teasing, and because he is simply too cute.

[guppybibi]

how they react to artist!reader

✧┊ft: akaashi keiji & kōtarō bokuto

❁ཻུ۪۪♡

❥ akaashi keiji

- thinks everything that you make is an absolute masterpiece, but if you do ask him for critique prepare yourself for his blunt honesty.

- though it isn't obvious from his stoic face, he goes into overthinking mode whenever you ask him for suggestions.

- hurting someone's feelings because he said something wrong is the last thing he wants.

- if you wanted to do some sort of art challenge with him he'll happily comply. i think he'd be pretty good at arts, not the best but definitely not the worst.

- when you compare each other's works, he always lets out a laugh when he sees how much of a downgrade his work is.

“Alright, I’m done! How ‘bout you, Keiji?” You giggle, holding the canvas against your chest secretively. Snooping was for sure, not allowed! “Just a few more finishing touches.” He mumbles, painting a few more brush strokes. His eyes full of pure concentration, laser focused on the piece he was making.

After a few extra minutes of waiting for Akaashi to finish, he places the paintbrush down on the small coffee table. “Okay, on the count of 3! 1, 2, 3!” You counted down, excitedly flipping over your canvas once the count ends. Keiji follows and does the same, both of your paintings being revealed at the same time.

An amazed look comes up on your face, nodding approvingly as you look at Akaashi’s piece. “Wow Keiji! Your art is improving, I see you're following my tips!” You compliment, your eyes filled to the brim with awe. “Yes, I’ve been putting your suggestions into mind. But my work is nothing compared to yours. It's wonderful as usual and expected.” He admired, adoring your creation.

“Well, I don't really care about whose work is better right now. We spent time together, considering your busy schedule, I’m really grateful.” You spoke softly, fingers fiddling around with the bristles of a random paintbrush as a content smile made its way to your lips.

❥ kōtarō bokuto

- basically obsesses over everything you make, it can be a work in progress or a literal fail yet he still has a compliment to say about it.

- a walking ego boost for you to be honest.

- not..the best in arts. though overtime as he practices with you, he's gotten better! practice makes perfect after all. so if you want someone to draw around with, he's just one call away!

“Y/N, I’m done! I’m sure I’ve outdone myself this time yet again, I’m not only an ace in volleyball but in drawing as well!” He brags, his confidence overflowing. While you just laugh in response, still focusing on putting the finishing touches. “I’m sure it's gonna be great Boku, you've been improving recently.” You comment, at this point you were sure his head was growing bigger from the amount of compliments he was receiving..

He patiently waited for you to finish, not rushing you as he started to chat about random things. Like how Keiji won't wear the t-shirts he suggests even though he has worn equally weird t-shirts before and whatnot. You chuckle, despite being pretty stoic; Keiji was probably evenly as weird as Bokuto. Once you are satisfied with your work, you place the pen back to its designated spot. Crossing your legs as you held the sketchbook close to you, you looked up to Bokuto with a smirk.

“Ya ready?” You ask, which you immediately get a nod in reply. After a countdown, the both of you flip your sketchbooks and show each other your work. It took you a moment to realize what who Bokuto drew, it was you in a meadow. It wasn't the best piece in the world, but to you it felt like it surpassed even the Starry Night. “Woah..you're right. You did outdo yourself this time..”

“Of course! An ace like me never fails to disappoint.” He boasts proudly with a grin, throwing the sketchbook aside and pulling you in for a hug..

[vinvantae]

Unmasked

16/16

<<< previous part

Word count - 6.1k

**************************************

yourinstagram added to their story

arthur_leclerc replied to your story

Should’ve used this emoji 🤢

yourinstagram replied

Arthur! Stop bullying your poor brother! (Miss u x)

arthur_leclerc replied

Never (miss you too ❤️)

****************

Loving Charles Leclerc was easy.

Over the summer break, you’d slowly moved into his apartment - the bachelor pad transforming into a home with all of your simple touches, like they’d always been there. You moved around each other like a dance, not missing a step as you fell into a comfortable rhythm sharing the space.

Your communication was strong enough where little disagreements wouldn’t become screaming matches, compromising came to you with ease. You’d never put much thought into your career after Formula 1 before Charles, but his plans all lined up with yours perfectly - neither of you needed to sacrifice anything for the other. It was as if your paths were always meant to cross.

Any discomfort in your life was soothed by him - the way he’d wordlessly extract your phone from your grasp when he caught you snooping at hate comments, only smiling softly when you said you were looking for ‘genuine’ critique. Instead of scolding you, he’d wrap you up in his arms and remind you that’s what the team is for, not randomUser77.

Loving Charles Leclerc was fun.

You had never smiled so much before - even if you had a tough day, he’d always find the perfect way to cheer you up. He drew laughter from the deepest parts of you, making your whole body shake and your eyes water, sometimes not even intentionally.

Whenever you had time away from the sport, you were never bored. He loved planning little adventures for you both - squeezing you both on the busy train to Nice for a day in France, hiking up to the clearest part of Monaco for the view. Even on your laziest of days where the two of you just stayed piled under the blankets, you never for a second felt restless.

There were things you’d experienced that you’d never even thought about - and it soon became tradition that you would buy each other the ugliest trinket you could find in the gift shop to live on the dresser of the guest room, the endless googly-eyed creatures and key chains staring down any company choosing to stay the night.

Loving Charles Leclerc was beautiful.

From the oceans of his eyes, to the warmth of the sun from his skin under your fingers after a cold day. You felt so alive with him. You never believed in loving someone more each day before him - your rocky relationship with your estranged father made sure of that, but Charles made it impossible not to feel for him stronger each and every moment he was in your life.

He was never close enough, you wanted to spend every second learning every inch of him to memory - every freckle, every scar. So it was a common occurrence for him to wake up in the morning with your fingers tracing his skin, his lips curving into a soft smile before leaning up awards to press the sweetest of kisses to your lips.

His fingers pressed against your hips, pulling you even closer. “Bonjour amour, sleep well?”

You combed your fingers through his hair, smoothing out the hours of good sleep. “I always sleep well these days.”

“Me too. Almost don’t want to go back to racing… almost.” He mused, nuzzling into your neck - always at his most affectionate right after waking up. “But, I did promise Andrea that I’d get back to the gym.”

“Mhmm, can I watch? Love seeing you get all sweaty and sexy.” You teased, scratching at the nape of his neck - breath hitching in surprise as he started to press kisses against your skin. “Charles.”

“I’d say yes but you’re too distracting… I’m gonna make us some breakfast, okay?” A soft whine left your lips as he pulled away - already missing the warmth of his skin against yours. “The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll get back, amour.”

You jut your bottom lip out, Charles shaking his head with a chuckle - leaning down to kiss you before slipping into some underwear and a t-shirt, leaving you to chase the heat from his body that was escaping the duvet. His scent lingered in the sheets as you hugged them to your face for one more moment before deciding the smell of breakfast was just as tempting. You made yourself at least semi-decent before yawning and making your way down the corridor to the kitchen, rubbing the sleep from your eyes so you could fully take in the sight in front of you of your beautiful man cooking you breakfast.

“Oh, I was going to bring it to you in bed.” He chuckled softly as you wrapped your arms around him from behind, resting your cheek against his back, enjoying his warmth.

“Smelt too good.” A soft hum left your lips. “What are you making?”

“French toast, although… I am still not sure what about it is french.”

You rolled your eyes playfully before rooting through the fridge to grab some toppings. “I’m pretty sure the Americans are to blame for that. What do you want for yours?”

“I bought some fresh berries on my way home yesterday, they should be in there. Some cream too.” He explained, wiggling the pan a little before flipping the bread with ease. The two of you stood in comfortable silence as he continued to cook and you chopped up some of the larger berries.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him glancing at you - his lips curved into a soft, pretty smile. “I can see you staring, Leclerc.”

“Only because you’re staring too, pretty girl.”

You flicked a blueberry at him, grinning as he feigned injury - grasping his bicep for a moment, dropping the spatula from the other hand onto the counter to place the back of it against his forehead in a dramatic fashion. “I’ve been shot! How will I ever make you French toast now?”

“Drama queen.” You took his hand and pried it off of his arm, the blueberry had left an almost convincing stain. “Nothing a big strong man like you can’t handle, right?”

“Mhmm, I don’t know. You might have to kiss it better.”

“Idiot.” With a gentle shake of the head, you lift the sleeve of his T-shirt and pressed a fleeting kiss to the spot the blueberry hit. “Now cook before the rest of the French toast goes cold.”

“Oui mademoiselle.”

He lent to kiss you gently once more before continuing making your breakfast and you rested against the counter to watch him, a soft smile on your face. The domestic bliss almost made you forget about the outside world, that from next week on, he would be fighting against you once again for points. Even though you were in the lead at the moment, Max between the two of you, the championship was still all to play for and as excited as you were to get back to racing, having this alone time with him was exactly what you needed.

You were feeling refreshed, loved and ready to get that title.

***

Charles_leclerc and yourinstagram added to their story

***

“So, third in the Championship, when once you were in the lead… how does that feel?”

Charles' shoulders sagged a little but he caught a glimpse of you smiling away with another reporter and he took a deep breath before putting on a smile of his own. “As much as I want the championship, y/n has been absolutely nailing the last couple of months. We’re currently leading the WCC and the WDC with one of our drivers and as a team I believe that’s the best outcome.”

“Is this you giving up then? You could still win.”

He frowned a little. “Of course I’m not giving up, but as I said - y/n has been on another level. So I will continue to try my best but I guess we’ll wait and see.”

Your teammate knew he’d always been a bit of a sore loser, he hated watching others achieve what he’d always dreamed of. Being lifted up in the air as they won the championship whilst he just watched on the sidelines. But you?

Oh, but you.

Your celebrations made him feel like your wins were his - that even if he’d played no part in your winning strategy that day, you’d go out of your way to praise and thank him. Making sure he got a mighty big sip of the sickly sweet drink if you weren’t sharing the podium together. And even at his worst races, you would find even a single moment to shower him in praise for - an overtake at the start, or maintaining his tires. He never felt like you outshone him, you went out of your way to make sure his fire burned just as bright as yours.

As the two of you walked through the Spa paddock for the first race back after the break, having just broken away from your last bit of media duties that day - there was still nothing he wanted more than to get racing and get back on that top step. He had more wins in him, he knew he did, and as good as your wins felt - it would never bring him the same thrill as winning himself.

And he had to beat Max, the team hadn’t had a 1-2 in the driver’s championship since 2004 with Schumacher and Barrichello. If the two of you managed to pull it off, it would be stuff of legends - he was sure of it.

But as the Dutchman beat him once again, the dream felt like it was slipping away, and when you weren’t on the podium either - the two of you had exchanged a quiet look of concern. It had always been a silent thing that one of you had to win, but Max’s form was improving and the gap was getting tighter, the three of you so close that you could barely breathe from the amount of pressure.

You weren’t sure what you’d do if neither of you got to be WDC - after everything you’d been through together this season, it almost felt like the universe owed it to you. Whilst Charles was a little superstitious and you had a pre-race ritual, you knew that this was entirely in yours and Ferrari’s hands. They wanted this as bad as you did and they simply couldn’t afford to make any more silly strategy calls - after all, you’d won the championship much more recently than the team had.

And three world titles sure sounded nice.

And you’d finally, finally, get your name on that damn trophy. The two other wins just had THIRTY stamped out with the years of your wins, the number etched where the drivers’ signature would usually preside. There was no undoing that, it was part of yours and F1’s history now, and you were determined to make history again by being the first woman to have their name engraved into the silver.

It, however, seemed that the odds were starting to turn against you.

3rd, 8th, 4th in comparison to Max’s 1st, 1st, 1st, meant that the lead had slipped away from you by a single point. And you found yourself stepping into Singapore now in 2nd place in the championship - feeling far more defeated than you should. It was one fucking point and it infuriated you that you had let him get even a single step ahead of you. Charles could sense it in you as well. You were snippier with your crew, with him, constantly reminding them what was at stake here.

It wasn’t like you to be brash - you usually let your frustrations bubble under the surface, but now you weren’t held back by the mask, you needed to let them know how you felt. Sure you had played a part in your lack of wins but there were mistakes on their end that were just as easily avoidable.

“You have to be careful where you lose your cool, y/n.” You looked up from tying your boot at your new PR manager - she was nice enough, but still very by the book. “If people see you frustrated in the garage it won’t look good for your image.”

“Oh but when Charles is angry it gets clipped and goes viral? Yeah sure.” A soft huff left your lips as you stood up. “I’m fully aware I’m held to a different standard to them, but if I concede, that won’t change.”

“You have to earn their respect.”

That made you roll your eyes. “I’m a world champion. If that’s not enough then I don’t want it.”

She opened her mouth to retort but you pulled your helmet over your head, ready to get into the zone for the Singapore GP - it was one of the hardest tracks to race at but you knew if you won here then you’d be able to get your head back in the game. Get back on that top step and retake victory from Max. You and the team had worked so hard that you couldn’t let it all slip away - both you and Charles needed to redeem yourselves, get back to being the top team, something that had evaded Ferrari for far too long.

The sparkling lights of Singapore was the place to get back on track, it was intense and if you could prove it here - you could prove it anywhere.

You just hoped that Charles could do it too.

***

***

Welcome to the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, the finale of a season like no other and the title deciding race for one of three future legends. Will Max Verstappen cement his legacy with back to back championship wins, joining the likes of Jim Clark and Mika Häkkinen? Will Charles Leclerc do the impossible and finally bring the crown home to the Tifosi? Or will it be y/n y/l/n, the two time world champion, who finally gets to etch her own name into the history books, and the championship trophy?

In case you’ve been living under a rock for the last nine months, here’s how we got here.

The two Ferrari drivers started off the season strong, Charles Leclerc storming off into the lead with consecutive podiums, leaving both Verstappen and, at the time, Thirty, scrambling to catch back up.

But everything was flipped on its head when Formula One’s biggest secret was revealed; two time world champion Thirty was none other than Y/n Y/l/n, and it seemed that the weight of the world was suddenly off of her shoulders following the reveal. Her fantastic race form, paired with some very interesting choices from the Ferrari pit wall meant that by the time the chequered flag waved at the Azerbaijan Grand Prix, y/n y/l/n had overtaken her teammate in the championship and the fight was truly on.

And as she continued to remind the world just what a two time world champion was capable of, the Flying Dutchman had his gaze set firmly on Leclerc. The defending champion was not about to let the season get away from him - nipping at the Monegasque driver’s heels at every chance he got. And he finally got his way when an unfortunate DNF in France meant that Leclerc had to watch 2nd place slip out of his grasp and straight into Verstappen’s hands.

Y/L/N was his next target. With only 28 points in between them, gaining the championship lead was well within Verstappen’s capabilities. Thirty was determined to keep hold of the top spot, and despite claiming victory in Hungary, it simply wasn’t enough.

Three consecutive victories for Verstappen meant that going into the Singapore Grand Prix, we had a brand new championship leader - a single point between our leaders. Everyone was on the edge of their seats, the crowd at Marina Bay filled to the brim with excitement.

Every single race watched the WDC leader bounce back and forth between the two of them. Y/n in Singapore. Max in Japan. Y/n in COTA. Back to Max in Mexico, and the Dutchman managed to keep the lead by a single point after the Brazilian Grand Prix.

But that all brings us to now. The final race of the season, the one that is to decide it all. Whilst the odds are seemingly in the favour of either the defending champion or the only female driver on the grid - we can’t call Leclerc down for the count.

If he wins with the fastest lap, and both y/n and Max finish outside the top five–or if they finish outside of the points, 3rd place with the fastest lap could secure his victory. However, with the two front runners occupying the 1st and 2nd spots on the grid for the start of the race this evening, Il Predestinato may just have to wait another year to fulfil the prophecy he wrote in 2019.

Stay with us, as the final race of the season is right up after this break.

You looked up from where you were crouching against the side of the track - gaze scanning across the red of your Ferrari as the team made their final checks before the race. Taking deep breaths, you closed your eyes and focused on your favourite music, clearing your mind of anything but the lyrics.

This was it: your moment. There was no room for mistakes, no room for fear. You simply had to win.

After one final inhale, exhale… you let your eyes flutter open and study your competitors. Max was chatting to GP, animating wildly with his hands as he spoke - the look of determination on his face was one that rivalled your own, you were sure. But he just didn’t want this as much as you did, you were certain. This was like your first WDC all over again, you needed this more than anything.

Your eyes next jumped to Charles, your teammate bouncing a little on the spot to get himself warmed up - his fireproofs still hung around his waist. Realistically, unless you and Max crashed out, he wasn’t truly in contention. He knew that. The two of you had sat for hours the previous night talking it all through.

He’d touched you so delicately, fingers tracing up and down your side - his eyes soft as he reassured you that it was going to be okay. He made you promise that you’d do everything in your power to win and you made him swear he wouldn’t damage his race just to help you. You knew he’d do anything to secure your top spot, even if it meant taking Max out - but you wanted to win on your own merit.

You couldn’t help but smile when his gaze finally met yours from his position by the car, an understanding nod shared between you before he pulled his balaclava over his head. After passing your phone and headphones to your engineer, you shook the nerves off one more time before getting the last bit of your gear on.

Max starting on pole had you at the disadvantage, but you knew what you and the car were capable of - and with the perfect strategy this race could be yours. A perfectly shiny pair of softs sat in your garage waiting for you, so managing your first set of mediums was vital. But that wouldn’t stop you wanting to get past Max as soon as possible.

And as you circled the track during the formation lap, watching the Red Bull weave back and forth - your eyes were fixated on the Oracle logo printed on the rear wing, a sight you hoped you wouldn’t be seeing for long. The two of you pulled up alongside each other on the grid, waiting for the rest of the drivers to pull up behind you and the lights count down. You could almost hear Crofty’s iconic commentary as the green flag was waved from the back of the grid.

It’s showtime.

***

“I’ve got a ****ing puncture, these tires were supposed to last me another 7 laps!”

“We’ve got to box, you’ll have to manage this next set as best you can - we might have to swap strategies.”

“No ****ing ****.”

DC - Well that’s not what our race leader wanted to hear, Martin. We predicted that Max wouldn’t be pitting until at least lap 20, but it appears some debris left on the track from the lap one contact seems to have caused some damage.

MB - I’m sure y/n will be happy to hear this! It gets her some clear air to build up a big enough gap for when it's time for her to pit - Ferrari will be hoping can re-emerge in front of Verstappen. This is not what Red Bull needs right now, if Charles finishes p2 and Max ends up outside the points, he will not only lose 1st in the championship but 2nd as well.

DC - Don’t write Max off yet, we know what the Dutchman in that RB18 is capable of. Those Ferraris have been impressive this season, but he has kept them right on their toes. Let's see where he comes out, Ted, down to you.

TK - Thanks Crofty, I can just see Max slowly trundling down the pitlane as we speak, his pit crew look ready - they know how important this stop is… and he’s off, 2.2 seconds stationary is very good but is it good enough? I guess we’ll see when we get our official round of pit stops which is predicted to be between lap 16-22 for those on a 2-stop.

DC - Amazing, thank you, Ted. Verstappen comes out P14, not ideal, nestled in behind Albon in the Williams - not someone he’s going to want to be behind for for long, as Albon is notorious for getting his elbows out, even if it's the defending champion in his rear-view mirrors.

“Where did Max come out?”

“P14, just a couple more laps and then we’ll need you to really push. Sticking to plan A, sticking to plan A.”

“Gap to Charles?”

“2.4. He’s been told to drop back so he’s not getting as much dirty air.”

DC - As far as Ferrari is concerned, getting y/n that win is definitely more important than her teammate, so it's a smart move to get him to drop back.

MB - I think it's a bit of a shame, because despite only qualifying third,he was a rocketship during practice and I’d love to see what he’s capable of today, Crofty.

DC - It's only lap 14, Martin, there’s plenty more racing to come. I’m sure Leclerc will definitely show off just what he’s capable of when Max starts to pull back through.

MB - We can only hope so.

***

DC - If you’ve only just joined us, you’ve missed quite the show in the first 43 laps of the final grand prix this season. Defending champion Max Verstappen is currently p9 after having to pit early due to a puncture and he follows teammate Carlos Sainz as they fight to catch up to the Ferraris after a spectacular pair of pit stops. The second round of pit stops for those on a two stop strategy has started, we’re led to believe that y/l/n’s final stint will be on the softs whilst the three drivers behind her will go onto the mediums.

MB - That means these next laps are super important, she needs to eek everything she can out of these hard tires and hope that Red Bull’s undercut attempt isn’t enough to put their drivers back out in front. They’re predicted to stop 2 laps before her so she’ll need to fight tooth and nail to get 22 seconds ahead of Max.

DC - You can see Max struggling with his hards, but I know RedBull are heavily relying on this undercut to work for them. Here he is, coming in now.

“Y/n, Max is boxing… give us everything those tires have left in them.”

“On it.”

DC - Now we watch on as the Ferraris try and get far enough ahead to make their strategy work. Just a reminder that most of the current top 10 have yet to pit which explains those who seem a little out of position. It seems that Charles has regained some time on his teammate and is making good use of that lovely bit of DRS.

MB - He’s playing a very smart game, there’s no point overtaking y/n right now - not when they’re both due to pit. If he plays his cards right, he could end up at the front after his stop.

DC - Ferrari needs to play this perfectly. There is still a chance for them to get a 1-2, and with Max currently working his way back through the pack it’s time for the prancing horses to do their stops. Ted, down to you.

TK - Yes, hi Crofty, y/n is currently making her way down the pit lane - this stop needs to be perfect from the Ferrari pit crew if she’s to get back out in front of Max and- Oh no! Bit slow on that left rear, 4.2 seconds stationary, not good!

DC - And here comes Max around the final corner, it’s going to be tight. Can she get to the end of the pit lane and back up to speed..? She can’t! Max Verstappen retakes the position, all the drivers in front due to pit so he has provisional P1, what a disaster for y/n y/l/n

“What the hell was that stop guys?! These tires are ****ing cold, he’s already out of DRS.”

“Copy. Sorry about that. But you’re on softs, once they’ve warmed up. You’ll get him.”

DC - And with both Charles and Carlos now in the pits - Max has the lead, and with the championship win only 9 laps away, can y/n get it back or will it be going Dutch for the second year in a row?

MB - You can almost feel the frustration in the Ferrari of Charles Leclerc, now saddled with 3rd place - and with less than 10 laps to go, it seems the championship is well and truly out of his grasp, so let’s stick with our two leading cars. Y/n is now within DRS of Max Verstappen with fresher, softer tires. I cannot wait to see how Max defends the position, we know he can make that Red Bull very wide when he needs to.

DC - It’s as if the tables have turned on him from last year - this time it’s he who is at the disadvantage and y/n y/l/n isn’t even giving him a second to breathe. She takes a peek down the inside but isn’t quite close enough this time. She’s got DRS on Verstappen, though, and is about to enter into back to back detection zones. It won’t be long until Verstappen is sweating in that Red Bull.

Max weaves off to the left to defend but it’s not enough, with newer tires and the power of DRS she steams past him! He never stood a chance, what a disaster for Max Verstappen as y/n practically gallops off into the distance with only 4 laps remaining.

MB - If he wants to make a move he’ll have to do it quickly because with a clear track ahead of her, she’ll drop him out of DRS in no time.

DC - After a slow stop, y/n y/l/n has retaken the lead of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and now with only a couple laps to go, Verstappen’s hopes have seemingly slipped away. It was always going to come down to this and despite the rocky start to the season, y/n has performed absolutely brilliantly and after years of being hidden behind her helmet - she will finally be able to carve her name into the silver of the championship trophy and truly cement herself as a legend.

First female driver. First female champion. And the youngest ever to become WDC. And now a third title can be added to the list of her achievements. It’s been a hard couple of seasons, but after 4 years - she’s back on the top step. Joining the likes of Stewart, Senna, and Lauda as she rounds the final corner of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

You can see her flying down the straight as the grandstands erupt, the Ferrari chassis sparking under the lights at Yas Marina, and with the iconic thirty on the top of her helmet, with the sport’s most iconic team, Y/n y/l/n takes the chequered flag to become a 3 time world champion!

“Oh my god! Oh my god!”

“Congratulations y/n. This is a long time coming - you did amazing out there.”

“Haha! Holy ****, I actually did it!”

You laughed with glee as you, Max and Charles did donuts together on the main straight - one of your hands in the air, holding three fingers up. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you finally climbed on top of the car, standing on the halo of your F1-75 for a moment to absorb the atmosphere, any boos completely buried by the cheers and the celebrations.

As you looked down, Charles offered you a hand - the visor of his helmet pushed up to reveal his smiling eyes. You hopped down and let him sweep you up in a hug, spinning you around as you cheered.

“I’m so fucking proud of you!” He yelled, placing you back on the ground - holding your helmet in his hands. “My champion!”

“I’m proud of you. You’re next, I promise.”

He shook his head playfully. “This isn’t about me, have your moment, mon amour. I love you.”

“I love you, Charles.”

You practically squawked in shock as Max clapped his hands on your shoulders - ushering you towards the post race interviews. Both of you place your helmets on their plinths as Charles was directed away. “I should be mad, but I’m so happy for you.”

“Shame about that puncture! Worked out in my favour though.” You laughed. “Would’ve got you regardless, Max.”

“I bet you would’ve, absolute beast. I was scared Charles was gonna get me as well… Thank you for making this season unforgettable.”

You turned and hugged him tight, whilst Charles did his post race interview. “Thank you for having my back no matter what.”

He gave you one final squeeze before heading away to do his own interview. You laughed with and celebrated with the team, making sure to shake hands with Frederick Vasseur - your new boss for next year, Charles’ comment earlier in the season about him not wanting you to leave Ferrari all making sense now.

“Another one next year?” He grinned.

“You know it, boss.”

Fred gave you a pat on the back before it was your turn to stand before the masses. It was none other than Jenson Button who stood before you, massive smile on his face as you were handed a microphone.

“And here she is, ladies and gentlemen. Your 2022 World Champion!”

You waved and grinned at the crowd, relishing in the celebrations. “Thank you all so much, this feels unreal.”

“It was phenomenal watching you race today, you seemed really in your element. How are you feeling right now?”

“Overwhelmed!” You laugh, “but immensely grateful for my team, for Charles. For everyone who has stood by me throughout this season, this win is for all the little girls who were told they couldn’t do it… this win feels… so good. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain how it feels but just know this is just the beginning for me.”

He gave you a smile, his eyes soft with admiration. “Congratulations, y/n. It’s been an honour to watch you this season… I’m sure you’ve got plenty of celebrating to do so I won’t keep you much longer. One more time for y/n y/l/n, your three-time world champion!”

You grinned and blew a kiss to the crowd before heading off to get your trophy - Charles waiting in the corridor to walk to the cool-down room with you, his strong arm draped across your shoulder and a kiss pressed to your temple as you joined him at his side.

The cool-down room was surprisingly quiet, you all knew you were being filmed but the reality of your 3rd championship win was finally sinking in. You sat in your chair and held your head in your hands as the tears of joy wracked through you. Charles cooed softly and sat beside you, rubbing your back. “Amour.”

“I-I’m fine… I’m fine… just means so much.”

“It’s so deserved. You fought tooth and nail, we’re all so proud of you.”

You gave him a watery smile and gave him a gentle hug. “Thank you… sorry, didn’t mean to get so emotional.”

“It’s alright, 3 championships is a fantastic achievement… you’re allowed to be emotional.” Max chimed in, giving you an award winning smile, crouching a little in front of you. “And it’s the first time your name is paired with it, it’s a lot.”

“I’m so glad it’s you two here with me. My biggest fans.” You grinned, a teasing lilt to your voice.

A giggle escaped you as Max shoved your shoulder lightly, the moment interrupted when you were all beckoned to the podium.

You had a small moment alone as Charles and Max stepped out to claim their positions.

At the start of the year, you were anonymous. And now you were free, you were world champion and you couldn’t forget how Ferrari’s masterplan to keep you a secret backfired in the worst way and now you had the most beautiful caring boyfriend any woman could ask for.

And as the cheers erupted when you stepped out in front of the crowds, you could’ve sworn you felt your cheeks split with how big your smile was. You could feel the shift, they loved you. You had proved to them once and for all that you were worthy of not only this title but the ones before it.

The top step felt like a cloud beneath your feet, the trophy felt like part of you that had been missing - finally reunited. The cool silver beneath your skin gleamed in the bright lights as you lifted it high, the whole world’s eyes were on you at that moment.

As your national anthem played, your trophy now perched by your feet, hat clasped behind your back - you snuck a glance at Charles. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, a gentle smile on his face, and he cautiously reached out for you as the Italian anthem began to fill the air.

You reached out and let your fingers link with his, your smile matching his own.

I love you. He mouthed, eyes flickering behind you for a moment but before you could react - cold liquid was poured down the neck of your race suit, laughter filling your ears. You glared at Charles for distracting you before spraying him down with your own bottle and quickly turning to get revenge on Max. It really felt like the three of you were kids again, hosing each other down with sparkling water and chasing each other around.

And as you all clambered onto the top step, Max nearly lost his balance until you hauled him up beside you. Your race suit was sticky and your entire body ached post-race but you didn’t even care - the roaring red of the crowd below filled your ears as you lifted your trophy one more time.

As soon as you stepped away from the prying eyes of the world, Charles pressed a searing kiss to your lips - both hands cold as they held your cheeks. You smiled into it - letting your arms wrap around him in return. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his lips curved into a cheeky smile.

“...so, wanna do this all again next year?”

You grinned and kissed him again. “Absolutely.”

And there you have it, after 23 absolutely thrilling races - the 2022 season comes to a close and Ferrari’s own Y/n y/l/n is our world champion. Ferrari didn’t quite get that 1-2 finish they fought so hard for, but the fight for the top has never been closer and with 2023 just over three months away, we cannot wait to see what happens next.

So whether you’re a Tifosi shouting from the rooftops or a Redbull fan who is desperate for a fresh start, we cannot wait for you to join us again next year.

Thank you for joining us, see you again soon.

***

***

And that’s it! Thank you all so much for your continued support and I know she’ll tell me off for doing this but a super duper big thank u to my wonderful mack and cheese @formulaforza for proof reading and helping me to organise my thoughts ❤️ appreciate you so much x

Taking a break from long form fics for a while, will probably be reopening my requests in the next week or so

[drinkingcoffee-inthedark]

getting comfortable

❗️🔞⚠️smut, minors dni⚠️🔞❗️

•azriel x reader•

word count: 2480

you entered the bedroom you shared with your mate at the house of wind in velaris, slamming the door being you. it was a particularly rough mission and rhysand was officially on your last nerve with his critiquing. how dare he complain about your field work, when he wasn’t there!? you defended his city while he sat on his ass cuddling baby nyx all day!

you practically growled with annoyance as you started stripping off your leathers, only aware of a presence in the bed when azriel sat up with a start. taking in his mussed hair and flushed cheeks, you concluded that’s you’d interrupted your mate’s nap. you winced slightly and met his sleepy hazel eyes.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to wake you.”

azriel got up from his spot in the bed and stretched. you drank in the sight of his bare, chiseled, tattooed chest as he yawned.

“it’s okay, my love,” he rasped out in his deep, sleep laced voice. your eyes wandered down to the pajama pants slung low on his hips. his feet padded softly on the carpet as he made his way over to you and helped your out of your leathers. “are you alright?” he asked.

you sighed against his touch as he finished removing your clothes, “no,” you mumbled, “someone needs to kick your brother’s ass.” he chuckled quietly and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“which one?” he asked, amusement clear in his eyes. you looked at him pointedly.

“which one do you think,” you huffed out as he wrapped his arms around you. you completely melted into his touch and allowed your body to sag against his. you felt his muscled chest vibrate as he laughed softly.

“hmm, you can kick rhys’s ass later. for now, let me draw you a bath, love.” you sighed in relief at the thought and nodded against his shoulder.

you pulled back to look at his face and smiled at how handsome your mate was. his tanned skin and dark hair were gorgeous, his face sculpted by the gods. you soaked in the sight of the faelight dancing in his honey colored eyes. you couldn’t resist pressing a light kiss to his mouth and you smiled at him.

“that sounds heavenly,” you told him. he scooped you up off the floor and into his arms bridal style. you let him carry you into the bathroom, where he he seated you on the countertop.

azriel ran the bath water, nice and hot the way you liked, and added your favorite bubble bath and bath salts to the water. you watched him draw your bath, smiling at the sight of the feared illyrian warrior pouring bubble bath into the tub. the side of him that was reserved only for you. you got up off the counter and stepped onto the cool tile of the floor and removed your undergarments.

the shadowsinger shut off the water, the tub now full. he turned to look at you and quirked an eyebrow at your state of undress. he hummed appreciatively as he took in your bare flesh. you felt yourself flush slightly at the way he eyed your body.

“see something you like, az?” you teased.

he shook his head as he made his way over to you, “no. i see something i love,” and at that, you couldn’t stop yourself from closing the gap between you and kissing him softly.

he wrapped one arm around your waist and cupped your cheek with his other hand. you kissed deeply, reveling in the feeling of his soft lips on yours. you snaked your arm around his neck and ran your fingers through his sleep tousled hair, making him moan softly into your mouth. after exploring each other’s mouths for a few moments, he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. his thumb swept over your cheek slowly and he smiled at you.

the pure love in his eyes for you had your heart thumping loudly in your chest. you had half a mind to join the priestesses at their next service so you can thank thank the mother and the cauldron for gifting you azriel as your mate. his whisper pulled you from your thoughts.

“you should get in the bath now. the water will get cold,” he told you. you nodded and placed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose before pulling away.

“join me?” you asked him softly.

“of course,” he breathed, moving to take off his pajama pantry, leaving him completely naked in front of you. your eyes roamed his body, just as he had done to yours and your breath hitched slightly when you saw that he was already hard for you. the image had arousal pooling in your core. you silently promised to take care of the need coursing through your veins after you were clean,

azriel wordlessly stepped into the huge tub, large enough to accommodate his massive illyrian wings. you followed, allowing yourself you settle between his toned thighs, your back pressed against his front. you sighed contentedly as the warm water soothed your bones. you completely relaxed into azriel, his hands on your hips, rubbing small circles into your skin under the water.

after allowing you several minutes to relax into the water, azriel wordlessly picked up the loofah and soaped it up. he washed your body, staring with your arms, moving you your torso, then finally passing the loofah to you so you could wash your legs. he helped rinse the soap off your body. azriel would never admit it to anyone but you, but his favorite thing to do was to take care of you. he waited 500 years for his mate, and he wasn’t about to let that slip through his fingers. the spymaster took great pleasure in doting on you.

once the water had gone cold, you and your mate stepped out of the tub, allowing the water to drain. you let azriel dry your body off with a towel, then watched as he toweled himself off. he hung the towel over the edge of the tub, then led you back into the bedroom with his large hand on the small of your back. the two of you slipped into bed, and you nearly moaned at the feeling of the silk sheets against your bare skin. azriel pulled you into his strong arms and held you close, spooning you against his body. it was by far your favorite position to cuddle in, because it gave you such a wicked advantage.

you shifted your hips against his, smirking when you felt his hardness against your backside. she groaned quietly into your ear.

“not fair,” he breathed. you feigned innocence.

“what, i’m just trying to get comfortable,” you said coyly.

“sure you are,” and you didn’t even have to see his face to know he was rolling his eyes. he ran his fingers over your ribs, making you shiver. you bit your lip as his skilled fingers found their way up and up, finally landing on your breast. he circled your nipple slowly, making you squirm back against him.

he finally pinched your nipple between his thumb and index finger, making him smirk as you moaned quietly. he pinched again, before tugging lightly.

“az,” you moaned quietly.

“hmm? is there a problem, love? i’m just trying to get more comfortable,” he threw your words back at you, making you groan.

“that’s not funny.”

“i thought it was pretty funny,” he said, tweaking your other nipple for good measure. you gasped softy and rutted your hips back against him, making him moan at the contact. the feeling of his hardness behind you made your core ache with need. you rocked your hips back against him and he squeezed your breasts with his calloused hands.

his fingers trailed back down your ribs, down your stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. “may i touch you?” he whispered against your ear.

you nodded and sucked in a breath when you felt his finger circling your clit. he rubbed the sensitive bud lazily, and peppered kisses along the back of your neck. you arched into his touch, wanting and needing more from him.

“please, az,” you breathed out.

“tell me what you need,” he demanded quietly, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. the sensation sent shockwaves down your spine.

“I need you. inside me,” you told him.

“let me taste you first,” he said, “on top of me. sit on my face and let me treat you like a queen.” your breath hitched at his words and a white hot heat hit your lower stomach. you quickly sat up and positioned yourself above his face, not missing the hunger in his eyes. you balanced yourself on the balls of your feet, your legs straddling his head. you gripped the headboard in front of you for support.

azriel grabbed your hips and pulled your core down onto his mouth. your eyes rolled back in your head as his tongue ravaged your body. he loved tasting you like this, you on top of him, him completely at your mercy holding him down with your thighs. his talented tongue quickly found your clit and worked it expertly. you ground yourself down on his face, moaning his name loudly.

“fuck, just like that,” you encouraged him. you felt his tongue slip inside you and you almost lost your balance above him. he gripped your ass roughly, holding you in place. azriel ate you greedily like he’d been lost in the desert and you were his first meal in years. you squirmed in top of him, rutting your clit against his nose as you felt your release barreling towards you.

“gods, az, you’re gonna make me-” you couldn’t even finish the sentence because his tongue found your clit again and you came hard for him. your legs shook and you needed his hands to keep you upright. he helped guide you back down on the bed. you both panted heavily and you screwed your eyes shut, the force of your orgasm leaving you reeling.

you felt azriel’s hand cupping your face and you opened your eyes to meet his.

“you look so pretty when you come for me,” he said smirking. the look had another wave of arousal hitting you.

“well, you’ll get to see me come for you again, because i still want you inside me,” you told him.

“oh yeah?” he challenged.

“yeah. but i want to taste you too,” you said as you directed him to lay down on his back.

he followed your order, and you crawled down to kneel between his legs. your pupils were blown out wide with lust as you eyed his hard cock in front of you. it was no secret that azriel has the largest wingspan out of all of his brothers. he was thick and long, and the sight of him had you licking your lips.

gripping him in your hand, you dipped your head and placed a soft kiss to the tip. he looked down at you with half lidded eyes and moaned softly. you smirked slightly, loving the effect you had on him. you swirled your tongue around the head and moaned at the taste.

“mmm, i love your cock, az,” you smirked again at the groan that fell from his lips, “it’s so big and it tastes so good,” you moaned before taking him into your mouth. azriel was so large that you could only fit about half of him in your mouth, so you gripped your hand around the base. you bobbed your head and your hand in unison, loving the way azriel moaned for you. his hips bucked up, making you gag slightly. he gripped one hand in your hair and the other twisted around the sheets. he gritted his teeth and shut his eyes tightly. he was trying his best to resist the urge to slam his hips and fuck your face. you pulled away with a smirk and his flew open and he stared at you.

“you want to fuck my mouth, baby?” you taunted. he nodded vigorously.

“so do it. take what you need from me.”

and just like that your mouth was around him again. both of his hands were twisted in your hair, and he bucked his hips up, fucking your mouth. you moaned around him and tears sprung to your eyes as he hit the back of your throat.

“you look so good choking on my cock,” he said, “so beautiful with your mouth so full.” his words had you reaching down to rub your clit, desperately needing release.

azriel suddenly pulled you off of him and you looked up at him quizzically, with spit running down your mouth as you panted heavily. he could’ve come from the sight alone.

“i don’t want to come until i’m inside you,” he told you. you nodded in understanding, and crawled your way on top of him. you positioned your entrance over his cock and sank down slowly. each of you let out a moan of pleasure as he filled you.

you rocked your hips against his slowly, allowing yourself to adjust to his size. you felt so full with him inside you. after adjusting to the way he stretched you open, you began a brutal pace.

you slammed your hips into him, needing to feel him wreck you. he moaned loudly and bucked his hips up, meeting your hips with his own perfectly timed thrusts. the headboard slammed into the wall but neither of you paid it any attention. if anything, it only encouraged you. his eyes were glued to your breasts, watching them bounce in front of his face with every movement you made.

you rode azriel hard and fast, wanting to milk his cock, needing to feel him explode inside of you. you new your were getting close when he chanted your name over and over, and squeezed his eyes shut. he grabbed your hips roughly and slammed you down on him. you cried out as your own orgasm tore through you violently.

“oh, fuck, azriel!” you screamed for him and that sent him over the edge. he came deep inside you, filling you all the way up. you rocked your hips, working both of you through your orgasms. once you came to a complete stop, he opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“i love you,” he said. and you returned the sentiment, placing a soft kiss to his lips. you pulled yourself off of him and collapsed in the bed next to him. you groaned, suddenly annoyed.

“now i need another bath,” you grumbled. he laughed.

“i’ll get one started for you, my love,” he said, kissing your forehead before disappearing into the bathroom.

[hangryyell]

I have a fanfic in the works rn, but I wanna do a short for you guys before I post the other. Critique is welcome! Please and thank you! Enjoy!

Astarion x Zekaria

TRIGGER WARNINGS: CnC

Kinks: Hair/Horn/tail pulling, blood drinking, spanking, vocal

The sun rose and it felt like i didn’t get enough sleep. Groaning as I sit up, eyes still closed as the giant star in the sky all but blinded me still. I rub my face and yawn, stretching, bones popping.

“My, someone is a sleepy pup.” Came from Gale as he sauntered over. I turn my head to where I heard him, eyes still closed tightly.

“I am so tired.” I whine. The wizard chuckles.

“Some of us are going out to get supplies and see if we can pick up any leads on this Halsin guy. You’re more than welcome to stay and rest. It shouldn’t be too daunting for us.” He spoke.

Humming I nodded, about to curl back into my bed roll when Astarion spoke up. “You can sleep in my tent if you want the sun out of your way.” I nodded at that, standing, Gale reached out and took hold of my arm to help me stand.

I cracked my eyes open and made a face at how bright the sun was today of all days! I stumble over to Astarion’s tent and crawled in, sighing softly at how nice and dark and cool it was in there. My tail wagged lightly, the smell of him was intoxicating. A nice perfume but also with an added earthiness to it.

“Hmm.” I snuggle into his pillows breathing him in, relaxing into his furs. I am dozing off when I feel the sun peak through the flap at the opening of his tent. Then feel a presence over me, knees brushing my putter thighs as someone straddles the backs of my thighs.

“Come on, I want to sleep.” I whine, not moving from my spot or trying to get them out.

I feel cool hands massage up the backs of my thighs to cup my ass. My tail stiffens and I go to turn my head, but they move fast, grabbing my opposite horn and turning my head away from them. Their fingers tangle in my hair and their other cold hand wraps my tail around to tug.

I groan at the slight pain, thighs squeezing together. They push my head down into the pillow, cool lips press to my ear.

“Just relax and enjoy me taking my pleasure from you.” Came Astarion’s silky smooth voice to glide over my body and ghost along my ear. I bite my bottom lip and try to struggle a little bit, to make it worth both our time.

“I’m not going to give in to you so easily.” I counter. A soft chuckle comes from him as he yanks on my tail once more, a moan coming from me.

“There are still some of our friends here, best keep quiet.” He threatens, shoving my head into his pillow. “Know your place, I don’t want to hear a peep out of you.” The vampyr snaps.

Astarion keeps my tail wrapped in his hand, pulling it to make me get on my knees. I lean back to feel he was willing and wanting. I press my face into the pillow I held onto for dear life to keep quiet.

“There we go, so good for me love.” He hummed, his free hand gripping my hip so he could rut against my. My trousers already wet with arousal.

It was always the size difference between us that turned me on to no end. How strong he was, how fast he could take over as if my size never bothered him. The snowed haired man finally let go of my tail to pull down my trousers enjoy to expose my slick folds to him.

“All that fight you tried to give me before, look at you.” He sucked his teeth and shook his head. One of his hands coming down with a hard slap over one of my bare cheeks.

“Fuck Astarion, just fuck me already.” I hiss, turning my head to look at him. My purple and green eyes bore into him, glassy with lust and want. “Now.” I snap.

The vampyr gave me a grin, all fangs as he bent and sunk his teeth into the top of my ass cheek. I groan softly, watching him the entire time. He drank from me slowly, keeping my gaze as he spanked me again harder than before.

“Gods, you’re such an insufferable tease.” I whine, putting my face back into the pillow.

“Only cause you make me dear.” He countered, as he licked the puncture holes above my ass.

Astarion pulled his own trousers down, sliding his length between my folds and thighs. “Shit.” He hisses, hands grabbing hold of my hips as he teased me even more. The feel of how wet I was as he pistioned his hips like that, the sound of our skin meeting was so pretty. How he panted, finger nails digging into my skin just right.

He gave me a slow thrust, the head of his cock brushing my clit causing my to squeeze my thighs together, pressing back against him.

“Astarion please.” I beg, feeling my slick start to make its way down my thighs.

He hummed at my plead and pulled out. “Hold yourself open for me.” He demanded, moving so he wasn’t keeping my legs trapped between his.

I reach back taking hold of each globe in my hands and widened my legs so he could see what a mess he’s made me. Astarion licked his lips as he watched, scooting closer to tease my hole with his length this time.

“Look at you.” He groaned softly, spanking me once, twice and finally a third time watching my cunt grip nothing.

“Please.” I beg more desperately this time, the side of my face against the pillow.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He purred. The silver haired man fed me inch by inch of his thick aching cock. I moan into the pillow, squeezing him with everything in me.

“Fuck.” He growls low in his throat as he bottoms out, hips pressed against me. I wiggle against him hearing him hiss has me doing it again.

“God, first the smell of you, the taste of you and now the feel of you. My dear I don’t think I could go back to not having any part of you.” He babbled, pulling out until just the tip of him was left inside me. I panted, pressing my hips back again, following him. I moan as he stretched me again.

“Fuck me, make me cum on that cock Astarion.” I whine, my nails digging into my skin.

The vampyr licks his lips and starts up a brutal pace. I turn my face into the pillow quickly, cursing into the fabric. My hands fall from their position and brace against the floor so I have him as deep as possible.

The sounds from the vampyr babbling praise and dirty words, along side the sound of how wet this man made me. Gods if this could go on forever I wouldn’t give a rats ass about the tadpole living in my head right now.

He pushed my shoulders down into the furs, lifting up onto his feet to squat behind me and pound me from that position. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as he filled me perfectly, feeling every inch of him, every vein.

“Yes, yes.” I moan as he can’t help but meet each thrust. I was so close.

Astarion took a handful of my hair, the grip he had made my scalp tingle as he brought his lips to my ear.

“Touch yourself, I want you to finish with me.” He demanded, nipping my earlobe.

I didn’t need to touch myself, the moment he would bite into me I’d finish immediately. I held on as long a so could. Chanting his name, claws digging into the furs under me.

The rouge groaned, putting his face into my neck and biting me hard. He drank from me and I moaned, squeezing him tightly as I came around him. He slapped a hand over my mouth to keep me as quiet as possible as he continued to use me to chase his end.

He drank and then stilled, filling me with his load. Pulling from my neck he licked the wound closed and kissed them before dropping the hand from my mouth.

I collapsed onto the bedroll underneath me, trying to catch my breath. My eyes closed as I laid there. Astarion slowly pulled out, watching our mix of juices slowly spilling out of me.

“Mmm, look at you.” He said, giving my ass a pat before helping me put my trousers back on. He crawled to lay beside me and stare at my face. I open my eyes and give him a small smile.

“Can I go back to sleep now?” I chuckle. I leaned toward him and placed a kiss to his lips. The vampyr opened his mouth and allowed me to explore his mouth. The taste of myself and him caused me to moan softly before I pulled away. “Get out.” I told him with a smile and half lidded eyes.

Astarion laughed at that and nodded, crawling over me. “I’ll guard your body.” He told me as he left, the sun peaking through at me.

[bratzkoo]

Gucci pt. 2 | Taehyung

Author: bratzkoo | navi | credits to: @caelesjjk for the banner Pairing: Editor-in-Chief! OC x Creative Director! Taehyung Word Count: 1.3K Genre: fluff, angst Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: nothing for now. all pg-13. [established relationship! au, fashion designer! au]

Summary: Vante, a fashion designer and creative director of Gucci who keeps his life in private. No one really knows him aside from what he shares in public, no surprise when the media goes gaga over the leaked sketches of Vogue’s editor-in-chief Y/N Black in his journal.

aka Taehyung is very secretive and he loves his girlfriend so much.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @aretha170 , @jinniegenie , @mooniyooni .@we8joon​ , @njrwifey​

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist -

The New York skyline glittered beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Vogue's head office, but Iona Black barely noticed the view. Her eyes were fixed on the layouts spread across her desk, red pen poised to make final adjustments. It was well past midnight, but the September issue waited for no one, not even the editor-in-chief. As she circled a misaligned text box, her phone buzzed. Iona's heart leaped, but she tempered her excitement. It could be anyone—an overzealous assistant, a demanding advertiser, or... Her Taehyung. She allowed herself a small smile as she saw his name on the screen. Quickly, she did the mental calculation—it would be early morning in Milan. "Hello, Vante," she answered, her voice cool and professional despite the warmth spreading through her chest. "Ms. Black," Taehyung's deep voice came through, tinged with both exhaustion and amusement. "Burning the midnight oil again?" Iona leaned back in her chair, finally letting her gaze drift to the city lights. "Someone has to make sure the fashion world keeps turning. I assume you're doing the same, given the hour." "Guilty as charged," he chuckled softly. "The show's in two days, and there's still so much to do."For a moment, neither spoke. In the silence, Iona could almost feel the weight of the miles between them, the ache of absence that had become all too familiar. "I wish—" Taehyung began, then stopped himself. "I know," Iona replied, understanding perfectly what remained unsaid. Wishing was dangerous in their world, a luxury they couldn't afford. "The collection will be magnificent, my love. It always is."

"High praise from the High Priestess of Fashion herself," he teased, but Iona could hear the genuine appreciation in his voice. She allowed herself a small laugh. "Don't let it go to your head, Vante-ah. I'll still be critiquing every seam and silhouette."

"I wouldn't have it any other way." There was a pause, and Iona could picture him running a hand through his hair, a habit he had when he was thinking. "Iona, I—" A knock interrupted whatever Taehyung was about to say. Iona heard a muffled voice on his end, then Taehyung's resigned sigh. "Duty calls?" Iona asked, knowing the answer. "Always," Taehyung confirmed. "Take care of yourself, My love. Don't work too late." "You too, my love. Make Milan proud." As the call ended, Iona allowed herself a moment of vulnerability, closing her eyes and letting out a long breath. Then, like slipping on a perfectly tailored jacket, she composed herself and turned back to the layouts.

The fashion world waited for no one, not even for love. Before starting their relationship, Catriona and Taehyung accept the fact that both of their jobs require them to travel a lot. That they barely have time to see each other. But when they do, they treasure every moment together and tried to make the most of the free time they have.

Sometimes though, their job requires them to see each other. That's why Iona's glad that she can control her facial reactions despite having her body almost shaking from the excitement to see Taehyung after a long time.  What would the press say if she's photographed smiling walking towards the backstage of the Gucci show?  "Iona," Sandra called, her assistant. "As you instructed, I'll escort you to your seat after 4 minutes backstage." Iona nodded and they entered backstage. Everyone stiffens at the sight of Iona. The models gasping and the staff panicking at the sight of her. Iona looks around to see everyone preparing, all of them now working like they're on thin ice, except Taehyung who relaxes at the sight of her. He goes to welcome her. "I miss you so much." He tells her in the quietest way possible, even Iona barely hears it.

"You did well," Iona replies, Taehyung understands it's her way of saying she misses him too. Taehyung nods and gives her a quick hug. "Enjoy the show... it's all for you." He whispers the last part to Iona's ear. Iona prevents herself from smiling largely and meanly says, "I'll enjoy the show if I really enjoy it." then leaves him standing mouth agape. Seconds later, Taehyung laughs at how she acts differently with him in public. Because he knows, she'll always be Iona Black. - Iona goes to her seat, finding Adriela waving at her.  As always, since she started dating Taehyung, he always makes sure she's sitting next to Adriela.  "Taehyung told me he's going to make me walk the next season, stop his ass for the love of God," Adriela complains the moment Iona sits down next to her.

Iona quietly laughs. "Talk to him about it, you know I don't want to comment on something if it involves the two of you on different sides."

"I hate you," Adriela says but Iona knows she doesn't mean it with how Adriela rests her head on Iona's shoulders.

"I hate you too, Ada, I hate you too," Iona replies.

The show starts and the picture of the pieces that Iona saw in Taehyung's office in their apartment comes to life in front of her.

She remembers making Taehyung hot chocolate when he said he's staying up late to work in his office in their apartment and looking at the pictures of this season's collection. He looks calm but she knows he's nervous about what the people will think.

She remembers leaving a kiss on his hair before Taehyung pulls her into his lap.

She also remembers the mind-blowing desk sex that still has her feel like walking on cloud nine. Iona sits properly, realizing she daydreamed about her boyfriend's in the middle of the show.

My Taehyung will always outdo himself every season, he never disappoints.

Her assistant on the second row takes pictures of the pieces while she talks about the pieces she loves with Adriela.

"I like that one, I want to wear it to the Met, make sure the theme can make me wear that."

"We already have the theme planned, Ada, just have Taehyung design something for you for the Met. He'll be happy to do it."

Adriela rolls her eyes, "He's only happy doing it for you, I'm sure he'll tell me to fuck off if I ask him to make a dress for the Met."

"You know he really sees you as a friend and besides, you're the new global ambassador."

"I'll tell him you said that when I bug him about it," Adriela decides. "Oh, I don't like that ensemble with the short hemline."

Iona's gaze goes to the monochrome ensemble, her eyebrows furrow from confusion. She never saw the ensemble in Taehyung's office when he's showing it to her.

"I didn't see that ensemble in his office, something is wrong." Iona comments.

She finds it alarming how a monochrome ensemble would be part of a very bright collection that Taehyung planned and more importantly, why would Taehyung add it last minute? Something doesn't seem right. Iona watches the whole show with pursed lips. Taehyung at the end of the show bowed but Iona noticed the dried tears on his cheeks.

[abiiors]

scary movies 🍿 // matty healy x reader

promptober '23 - day 3

a/n: this is so simpy, so tremendously sappy wow. a personal record i think cw: none, just fluff wc: 800

she is always so unbelievably excited for halloween. for the entire month of october, really. it’s infectious and adorable and every october, matty finds himself falling for her just the tiniest bit deeper. 

“whatever you want, sweetheart,” is his usual go-to for anything she might want to do, even when he’s short on time. but he will do anything to watch her eyes light up, to see her lips curve upward, brightening her entire face. wanna go apple picking? he’s ready at 7 in the morning! she wants to try on new sweaters? he’s ready with his thoughts and critiques (which are usually just “you look beautiful, my love” followed by a laugh when she wrinkles her nose and calls him biased.)

and so this is how he’s ended up here, watching poltergeist (fighting with the movie for her attention, really), and holding a large bowl of popcorn in his lap while she snuggles up to him. 

“having fun?” he asks before throwing a handful of popcorn in his mouth. 

she mumbles something, too engrossed in the movie. and matty frowns to himself. 

“baby…” he tries again, poking her gently in her side and watching in disbelief as she swats his hand away and goes back to her movie. 

“matty!” she chastises softly when he pokes her again. “this is the really good part! watch.”

matty would rather watch her—all her little reactions and expressions. he would rather watch her screw her eyes shut at particularly scary parts and peek through her fingers when she knows someone’s about to jump out. 

an idea forms in his head. 

“fucking hell,” matty swears at the next jumpscare—the “really good part”—soft enough that it sounds like he’s done it involuntarily but loud enough for her to hear. and wraps his arms around her waist holding her close. 

it’s easy to convince her, easy to make her think that his loud heartbeat is from the jumpscare. it’s easy to pretend that he’s burying his face in her shoulder to shield himself from more of them. 

matty feels her sigh lightly and he smiles. mission accomplished. 

“c’mere,” she murmurs, taking away the bowl of popcorn and guiding his head to her lap, and matty obliges happily. 

there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than here right now, feeling her nail scratching his scalp and threading through his curls. feeling her little gasps. she’s so absorbed in the movie, he knows there’s no way she can see his content smile. 

still… he must keep up the ruse. 

so matty waits patiently for the next jumpscare. on screen, a television creepily flickers to life. 

“need me to warn you?” she giggles cheekily when matty tenses. he almost wants to pat himself on the back for doing such a wonderful job with the acting. 

“warn me about what?” he asks, keeping his voice as nonchalant as possible. then he buries his face deeper in her lap, snuggling happily against the softness of her blanket. 

“nothing,” she teases. “you’re being so brave.”

matty has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing. he’s never been happier about a little white lie; definitely not now as she bends down to press a kiss into his hair, lingering for a second or two before pressing another one on his cheek. 

“my pretty boy,” she smiles and he feels little butterflies erupt in his stomach. 

she reaches over him for the bowl of popcorn, tits brushing his face for barely a second. by the time she leans back again, he’s sure there is a permanent, blissed-out smile etched across his face. he turns around, lifting her t-shirt to place a kiss on her stomach, making extra sure to rub his stubble on her soft skin. matty is rewarded a moment later when she giggles. 

“you’re being distracting,” she slaps him away lightly. “forty more minutes, baby. then i’m all yours.”

“you’re already all mine,” he teases, placing another kiss, gently nipping at her skin. this time she yelps. 

“oh, you’re in a mood!” she scolds but he doesn’t miss the way her eyes twinkle—too enamoured by him to really be angry. “you’re pretending to be scared, aren’t you? little shit.”

matty smiles, guilty as charged, and places another kiss on her as an apology. “oops?”

she scoffs playfully and finally, finally, picks up the remote to turn off the telly. matty feels a smidge bad for making her turn it off when she was so clearly invested. but she couldn’t have been that into it, right? not when she pulls him up and closes her lips over his. 

lemme know what you think <33

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[desafinado]

ooh if you’re taking requests I would love to ask for something kaveh related,, I love him and his recent appearances have me going feral

I was thinking maybe something with an artist s/o?? with his whole arts and romance thing I think it would be so cute 😭 sketching out his building ideas and such together..I just crave kaveh content tbh

✎, ੈ♡ kaveh with an artistic s/o

°｡⋆ kaveh x reader 

°｡⋆ artsy stuff, sickening fluff (yk the drill), love, beloved, dear

note: reader is described to be an appreciator of all art in general (visual arts and writing specifically)  just take what resonates lol, but yeah ^^ also ahh i wrote a song sorta similar to this concept before called “art museum” so i took inspo from that skjfsdf

if you think about it, everything you see has its own artistry, its own beauty; beauty is in the eye of the beholder after all. among all the things and people, however, you found kaveh to be the most beautiful thing of them all.

his creations were just as beautiful, of course. you couldn’t help but adore the details, the aesthetics, the everything. he was clearly someone who created with his heart on his sleeve, and it was why you admired him so dearly.

and while you had this respectful and deep admiration for him, he would only praise you for giving him such inspiration in the first place, whether it be the art you create or the love you give him.

he’d watch in awe, seeing you create visuals that make him swoon, and write words that almost bring him to tears.

if he wasn’t dating you, he’d still definitely be your number one fan.

that being said, you are dating, so expect that you do the most nerdy art things together; going to art museums, painting and wine dates, simply sitting in the living room and reading each other poetry (or even making some).

“hmm, and you were there, a heavenly body, a star, whose presence i had been blessed with.” “k-kaveh! you don’t need to read every poem… haven’t you flustered me enough, today?” “i wasn’t reading that time, beloved.”

everything reminds you of each other; when you both get home, you spend the first 30 minutes telling each other of everything you saw today that reminded you of each other.

more so, when it’s art. you both could go on for hours.

“i saw a newly installed statue today, i think it was a representation of spring, blooming and such?” “hmm… sounds lovely, i’d love to see it and interpret it for myself.” “well, for me, it only ever reminded me of you.”

helping each other with your arts; i mean, art is a form of expression and you think kaveh brings out the best in you vice-versa.

he’ll ask for your opinion on sketches, how he can improve and get his feelings across better. he’ll often feign naivety and ask you to help him draw it, just so he can get you to hold him closer.

“dear… i truly haven’t a clue what you mean. could you maybe guide my hand and help me understand?”

you know what he’s doing, of course, but you’re not complaining. you’ll even tease him and whisper softly into his ear; he asked for it after all.

when you’re writing, painting, sketching or doing anything at all really, you can expect him to be watching. he’ll hum in agreement or gently speak some words of affirmation.

when he notices you being a bit stuck, a bit uninspired and frustrated, or simply overworked, he’ll be quick to coax you into bed to cuddle.

he knows how easily you might get into your head, overthinking your work, critiquing every small detail, so he’ll simply get you to stop thinking period.

he’ll stroke your head, caress your cheeks, and mindlessly draw circles on your neck, while reading you your favorite poetry.

if all else fails, he takes you out to see the sunset/sunrise (whichever is more convenient). underneath the dance of colors, the borders between day and night, he reminds you how beautiful the world is. without over complicating everything, the world simply creates all its wonders as they are.

he won’t let go of you until you get a well deserved night’s rest, and you can always expect to be right there when you wake up.

and you wake up to see that lazy smile of his, slightly squinted eyes and groggy morning voice; there’s a tenderness as he greets you a “good morning, beautiful.” and you know feel all your worries melt away.

you think he’s a being way beyond any piece of art, because he gives you reasons to face the next day, and have the courage to express yourself.

that and you can kiss him silly until you can only say each other’s names.

requests are open!! please do not repost on other sites.

[hereforthefanficsandromance]

The Way He Looks at You Series I:XVIII

Act I: The Way He Looks at You Chapter 18: The Way He Changes for You

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series

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Chapter Summary

You try to reconcile with your new life. Cal helps Kaahlii try to find you. Rating: 18+ Words: 3.3K

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You wake the next morning confused by your surroundings. This room is unfamiliar, and it takes a moment before the memories of yesterday come into focus. You realize the arm wrapped tightly around your waist is not Cal’s. Your heart aches at the knowledge, but you try to remind yourself that you also loved the man behind you. This is something you could try to want again. You might even forget about the brief time where you belonged to an Inquisitor.

Theo wakes as well and you stiffen, not wanting him to know you’re awake. His hand opens wide, cupping your lower stomach, staking a silent claim on your body. He nuzzles into your hair and squeezes you gently.

“Morning.” His voice is gravelly from sleep.

“Morning.” You parrot back softly.

“Did you sleep okay?” He asks, sitting up slightly to look at you.

You turn to lie on your back, looking up at the handsome man, wishing it was someone else. “I did. Thank you for the help with that.”

Theo smiles softly and his eyes trail down to look at your lips before drifting back to your eyes. He leans down, making his move. You freeze, not yet ready for this level of intimacy. The sound of a small chime coming from under the bed saves you.

Theo immediately pulls back, looking around confused. “What was that?”

You glance around, also confused by the sound, then you remember your things are under the bed. You hadn’t heard that sound before and realize that it may be a message from Kaahlii. “Oh! I bought a reading device, it does that sometimes.” You quickly tell the half truth.

Theo furrows his eyebrows and nods, but then he looks concerned again. “From the bookshop owner?”

You feel your stomach turn at the question and whisper, “Yes.”

He sits up entirely. “She helped you try to get rid of me. We can’t take the risk of her knowing that you are hiding here. The Thirteenth Brother surely will start tracking your location soon. It’s too dangerous to keep it. If he finds her, he’ll get the information, then come for you. We have to get rid of it.”

Your body is unsure whether to keep you in panic mode or calm you. Knowing that Cal has a way to find you is soothing to your anxiety. But Theo wants to get rid of your only hope of getting back to him, so the fear spikes again.

“No! I don’t want to get rid of it.” You plead. But Theo is already standing up, climbing out of the bed, then dropping to his knees to search through your things for the reader. You jump up as well, trying to stop him.

Theo pulls out your satchel and opens it with ease, removing the reader. He turns on the screen and you both see a message waiting to be read. He gives you a serious look, and your heart stops as he taps the message open.

Do you like the invention? You have not yet provided a critique of my work. I will await your response.

You look at the message, confused by her words. Kaahlii does not seem forgetful, but her message shows otherwise. You wonder if this message has an underlying meaning attached to it.

“She can send messages to you? This isn’t a good idea. We have to get rid of this device.” Theo powers off the screen.

You snatch it out of his hands, holding it to your chest. “Theo! It is my decision to make. There is no danger. She’s my friend, and she won’t betray my safety.”

Theo sighs heavily. “You would risk the life of our child? Over a piece of tech?”

“Please, it’s not like that.” You say.

“I want to protect you, us, our family. I can’t do that if you don’t help me.” He says.

You hate that in his eyes; he’s right. You can’t exactly explain that you are in love with the man that threatened to potentially kill your baby. Would Theo even let you leave if you told him the truth? He wouldn’t keep you here as a prisoner, right? You're not so sure under these circumstances.

“I understand what you’re saying, and you are right. I really don’t want to get rid of my connection to Kaahlii. Could we compromise?” You ask hopefully.

Theo lets out the breath that he’s been holding. “How so?”

“We don’t know if I’m pregnant or not. What if I keep the reader off until we know? It shouldn’t be traceable if it’s powered off. Then if I’m not pregnant, I don’t lose my friend. Please?” As you finish speaking, you feel a growing tightness in your chest that makes it hard to intake air as you wait for the verdict.

“Okay, we can do that.” Theo says, “Thank you for making the right decision. I’m going to go see if I can find you some new clothes.”

Theo turns awkwardly and pulls a shirt on before heading out the door. The moment you hear his footsteps fade out, you turn on the reader's screen. You need to figure out a way to let Kaahlii know where you are and that you may be stuck here without saying those exact words.

The message takes a few minutes to compose, but you are sure she will understand. Her message already told you she knows that something is wrong. Once you are sure the device sent the message, you power off the reader and wrap it in the dress that Cal gifted you before stuffing it into your satchel.

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I am impatiently watching the Gree woman work after bringing back the tea she requested. The sound of a chime finally breaks the silence and I just about take the datapad from her hands. She gives me a stern look, and I back off a bit, allowing her to piece the tech back together. She rotates the device carefully to check the screen; we read the message standing side by side.

Kaahlii, I am sorry for not keeping my word and forgetting to critique your work. I have so enjoyed reading with a cup of tea at my side. I prefer the herbal kind, as it usually works wonders for my body. Unfortunately, I cannot provide a full review for several more weeks as I have come down with something. If I’m lucky, all the tea I’m drinking will help cure my affliction, and I can let you know my thoughts.

I am so disappointed; I was in such an exciting part of the book, but I suppose I am trapped there until I am well. It’s amazing how words are so effective at moving us to a new location in our minds. Perhaps I should take up writing. I’d love to transport others with my message. I just can not read until I am well again. Until next time.

“She’s sick?” I ask, trying to piece together the bland response. The message doesn’t have any actual information to go off of.

“I don’t think so.” The Gree woman, who I now know is called Kaahlii, says.

“Then what is she saying?” I ask, realizing that I have relied too much on reading her mind and am not very useful in deciphering her actual words.

“In the second part, she is telling us she won’t be able to send messages anymore. I believe she is hoping that we can use her message to track her location.” Kaahlii explains, “Though I’m not sure what the first part means.”

We both look over the tea that sits on the workbench, as if it will become sentient and explain the missing bit of knowledge. I know that we have time to locate her, but I am not happy about spending more time apart. She is with the Jedi, and she loved him. She still could love him. The thought enrages me; she had been doubtful of staying with me. The moment that she admitted to loving me, he came and stole her back, all because he thought I was hunting her.

“I must open my shop soon, though it will prevent me from working on this,” Kaahlii interrupts my thoughts.

“The shop will stay closed then.” I say firmly.

“Impossible.” She responds, drawing herself to her full height, which barely compares to the height of my waist.

“I’ll pay for the lost earnings. The shop stays closed until you finish helping me.” I say, raising my eyebrows as if daring her to go against my word.

I should have known better. She immediately scoffs and walks past me towards the rest of the shop. I follow her. “You dare to ignore my command?”

She walks to the front desk and begins digging for something in the shelving under the counter. I really could be more unpleasant, but something about this woman makes me feel as though doing so would not change the outcome.

Kaahlii finally stands up holding a folded up brown cloth, which she promptly hands to me. I pull away instinctively, not wanting to accept whatever silent negotiation is taking place.

“I will keep working, but you must run my shop. It will not stay closed today. Today is when the locals bring their young children for story time. If I must continue to work, then you must read for the group.” She demands, pushing the fabric into my hands, which I begrudgingly accept.

I hold the offensive item pinched between two fingers and it unfolds towards the floor. It’s a brown apron. I raise my arm slightly to examine the ugly fabric.

“I will do no such thing, and I will not wear whatever this is.” I say, unable to contain my look of disgust.

“Understood, then we’ve agreed that I will read to the children and I will continue my work on the datapad after the shop has closed for the day.” She walks to grab her own much smaller apron off the wall, placing it over her head and tying it around her waist.

“Do you know what my kind does to those that defy us?” I threaten.

She waves me off as she goes to the glass door to unlock it for the day. “Yes, but you want to impress her, and you know it won’t impress her if you hurt me.”

I huff at my obvious defeat. “Fine, I’ll read to children, but I’m not wearing this.” I drop the apron onto the counter.

She hums in response. “You are right. I can’t have you wearing that. You’ll scare the children.”

I am confused for a moment, then glance down at my own clothes, seeing her point. Meanwhile, Kaahlii climbs onto the step-stool that she keeps behind the counter and quickly pulls off a piece of the armor on my shoulders. I immediately back out of her radius.

“Absolutely not!” I hiss, “You cannot strip me of my position for something so trivial.”

She gives me an annoyed look. “Perhaps she should stay with the Jedi. I’m sure he’s more…paternal.”

My face wrinkles at the comparison and I grit my teeth while taking off my armor in defiance of her words. She only watches with vague interest.

“I’ll do what needs to be done.” I retort, allowing my displeasure to sour the words.

Kaahlii claps her hands once. “Wonderful! Then put this on. Story time begins in three hours. You’ll sit over there.” She tosses me the apron and points to a chair in the window.

“I keep a basket of children’s books next to it. Read maybe three or four, depending on how cooperative the group is. You can practice your out loud reading until they arrive, if you’d like. Otherwise, put away these stacks of books while you wait.” She gestures to the large stacks against the wall behind where we are standing. “You’ll have to take payments for books throughout the day. Good luck.”

She walks away and I yell to her before she passes through the shop door, “I don’t need to practice reading out loud!”

She says nothing and the door closes. I feel humiliated, which makes me angry. I haven’t received such treatment since before becoming an Inquisitor. Placing the ridiculous apron over my head, I reach for the first book and try to figure out where it goes amongst the towering shelves.

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I have only just figured out the organizational system of the books when I hear the door open. I glance up, frustrated to be pulled away from the progress I was making, which it turns out, barely got me halfway through the first stack. Throwing the book I was holding onto the counter, I walk towards the sounds. As I round the nearest shelf, I see a young Twi’lek woman holding hands with her daughter, who is toddling around, touching everything in sight.

She smiles when she sees me and pulls her daughter in my direction. The little girl stumbles and twists around, trying to pull her mother towards the nearest bookshelf. “We are here for story time. Sorry we’re so early. It’s our first time here. Where do we go?”

I am taken aback by the lack of fear on the woman’s face; I don’t remember the last time a stranger greeted me with a smile. “Oh, um, we’ll be over there. You can use the pillows in the corner to sit on the ground.” I say awkwardly, pointing her in the right direction.

“Thank you!” The woman says brightly and pulls her babbling daughter along. As they pass, the little girl’s tiny hand grabs at the fabric of my pant leg, staring up at me with enormous eyes.

I have absolutely no idea what to do at this moment, so I wave once and nod at the girl, who giggles, then she looks concerned. I glance up at the mother, looking for her direction.

“Oh sorry! She won’t stop grabbing things.” The woman explains and tries to pry her daughter's hand off my pants.

The little girl is staring at me with the widest eyes I’ve ever seen, like she is waiting for something. Then she sneezes right up into my face just as her mother pries her hand away. I grimace and walk back to the counter to wipe the spray off my face and apron.

A couple more pairs of mothers and their children enter the bookshop. I don’t walk out to greet them, not wanting to risk another awkward encounter with a child. They don’t seem to mind and they make themselves at home in front of the reading chair. There is a low chatter as the women speak to one another. Occasionally, I hear one child scream or knock something over.

I find it oddly soothing. It’s been so long since I’ve been in an environment where children are noisy and people speak freely. It makes me wonder about having a family, what it might be like to have my own children. My children wouldn’t sneeze on a stranger, I’ll be sure of that.

The last mother and her son walk in right as it is time to start the event. I head over to the chair, dreading the awkward interaction of reading children’s books aloud. I nod to the mothers before taking a seat.

The moment I sit, I am provided with an echo. I see her sitting in this same chair, spending the afternoon going to and from the shelves to read the beginning of various books. She is so beautiful as she reads. I want to pull her against me and kiss her deeply. I immediately feel at ease from the memory. It almost feels like we are together again for a moment.

“Hello, um, I’m going to read a few books. Let me know if you have any requests or…okay.” I say, very much unsure how to start this.

I reach down to pull a book at random out of the basket. I read the title aloud, “Uh, The Little Droid…That Could…”

One child lets out an ear-piercing scream and another topples over into his mother’s lap. I feel wildly unprepared to read to this group of four children. I hold the book in front of my face and read, grateful to have a barrier between myself and the audience.

“Excuse me, could you please turn the book so that we can all see the pictures?” One mother interrupts my reading.

I lower the book and look at her, she gestures how she would prefer I hold the book, “Yeah…sorry…” I say slowly and shift in my seat to turn the book to face the children, having to lean awkwardly around to read the words.

I’m only two pages in before the next interruption. The Twi’lek girl yells, “Droy! Droy! Drooooy!”

Her mother shushes her and gives me an apologetic look. “Sorry, she likes the sounds that the droids make. You don’t have to, but if you make beeping sounds for the droid’s part, she’ll calm down.”

I give the woman a horrified look. I will not be doing that. “Right.” I say instead.

The girl continues to chant her version of the word ‘droid’ and I feel a headache coming on after only a few more pages. I take a breath and at the end of the droid’s part I say, “Beep beep” in a half hearted impression of my old droid.

The little girl squeals in delight, and her mother gives me a big smile. A small grin creeps across my face and I read the page, attempting a more bold beeping sequence at the end. The children giggle and scream. I try harder to get a reaction with each sequential page. By the end of the story, the mothers are laughing and the children are bouncing with excitement, beeping alongside me.

I didn’t even realize that I had a smile plastered across my face until my cheeks ached. I relax my expression while I select the next book. This one is a bit more scary and I see an immediate shift in the children. I try to make the story less scary by oohing and aahing at each part. The children relax and lean in close, enthralled with the tale.

I am rather pleased with how this is going and as I attempt to find a good last book, the Twi’lek girl chants the word ‘droy’. The other children join in and I look up at them all in surprise.

“I suppose we can read that one again, if that is what everyone wants?” I say and look at the parents.

The children answer instead by cheering and clapping. We read the first book again and this time I put my whole heart into the performance; it is the most fun I’ve had in a long time. When the story ends there is a round of applause from the mothers and I watch as the littles ones all attempt to clap as well, though their aim is questionable.

I smile at everyone and look up to see that Kaahlii is standing by the front desk, watching us. She is barely masking the look of amusement on her face. I nod once and things wrap up. A few of the children embrace my legs tightly on the way out while the mothers thank me. I feel so warm right now, nothing hurts at this moment.

As the last customers exit the door, Kaahlii follows them and locks it behind them, putting up a sign saying that the shop is closed. She turns to face me, a now serious expression in place. “I’ve got a location.”

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Need to Rant with Others Who Have Read This Story?

Join My Discord It's free! Members get updates, sneak peaks, bonus content, events, and countdowns to new chapters. We'd love to have you, even if you just lurk!

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Love/Like/Hate What You Read?

Comment (please!) on AO3 or Blogger Anonymous/Comment/Message/Reblog on Tumblr Compliments feed me Constructive Criticism improves me

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Next Chapter: The Way He Hunts for You

[keter-kan]

Chapter 8 is here mwahaha 😈

The siege has been going longer than expected as May tries to come up with something to save her men from the impending doom of being locked behind the courtyard walls for too long, still not sure of where the attack came from.

P L E A S E give me feedback and critiques 😌 only partially edited as well so keep that in mind lol

tw: mentions of death, war, bodily harm, blood, food shortages

Tag list (dm me if you want to be a part of the club lol): @skidotto @idonthaveapenname

Ch. 8

They started calling it “the Bitches Siege.” It enraged May’s men in a way that made her proud, no matter how twisted the circumstances.

The makeshift barricade lasted longer than anticipated, especially after the local masons and carpenters took to work reinforcing it on their own volition. Food and certain other supplies were growing scarce, though that was to be expected from a siege. It wasn’t going to end in a matter of days; they’d be lucky if it were over in a matter of weeks, if not months.

May was a studied Duchess, understanding more than others the ramification of what this attack could mean. It’d been months since Giardin’s men were at her gates; they had settled their three-generation long debacle after May had all but killed him in hand-to-hand. She knew him as a coward, but never expected him to yield. The truce was signed within the day. And, considering the lengths at which they were at odds, she had never seen him possess such tactics.

But what would he know about Oryn?

There were no secrets among her men. At least, none that May couldn’t control. Oryn was a secret that was spread wide throughout the manor and surrounding encampment, the stories of a man who can become a beast saving the day.

Little did they know that the entire attempt at this siege was one made on Oryn’s life.

It was obvious who they were searching for; they distracted as many of May’s men as they could with the hopes that Oryn would be tucked away into the saferoom that they must have known about long before May herself had discovered it.

How was it all related to the summons she received from the King? The call to war?

She had yet to call a meeting to discuss anything more than battle tactics with her men. The looks of desperation and curiosity grew in numbers with each passing day, more and more of them needing answers to feel satiated. But May didn’t have any.

Someone is leagues and leagues ahead of me, calculating every step I take and making sure I fall into place like the pawn they want me to be. Whether it’s one of my own men, someone from the church, some imposter hiding amongst the chaos—

“You’re brooding,” Demetrius’s heavy hands clapped together as he stood at attention next to may, staring ahead.

“Planning,” May interjected, sighing as she changed her own stance to match his. They stood atop the barricade as the sun set, the small flames of invader campfires glowing softly in the distance.

“We need to ask for further assistance,” he mumbled, his brows setting deeper. “Look at them all out there. A few thousand, at least.”

“We can hold,” she said, her own confidence wavering in her voice, “I’m not concerned about the barricade. You know it comes down to supplies, which we’re steadily running out of.” She sighed. “Any word yet?”

He shook his head, not daring to make eye contact. “I doubt there will be,” he scoffed.

May’s jaw tightened. “I’m not going to disagree with you, Demetrius, but what proof do we have?”

“Who else knew?”

She took a moment to respond, wishing she could ignore the obvious signs. “You know what that would mean, Demetrius! That’s treason. I can’t risk that yet.”

“Then when?” He finally looked right at her, the anger flaring in his eyes. “When our men are starving? When we’ve eaten all the mounts and burned the last of our fuel?”

She glared at him the way one does when you’ve disrespected your superiors. “I’ve sent my ravens. Until we get a response, the only thing we can do is wait.”

Demetrius shook his head, turning to face straight ahead again. “You know,” he started, “I don’t know much about politics; never cared to. But playing their games can only end one way. Your father knew that.”

May’s jaw tensed as the taste of acid coated her tongue. “My father…” she fought against the lump forming in her throat. “I’m standing firm, General. Tend to your men. I doubt a raid tonight, but be prepared nonetheless.”

She felt his eyes on her back as she descended.

“It has to be about him,” he called after her.

“I know.”

-

There was no brooding after this kill, just a constant worry nagging in the back of Oryn’s head about Alec; the young boy reminded them so much of… some warm and tingly feeling. May’s men quickly turned the dining hall of her manor into a makeshift infirmary; there weren’t enough structures that would properly hold out all the elements within the barricades wall. This was the safest they could get, dying amongst one another.

May’s boots made a crisp sound as they clicked across the stone, walking amongst the rows of beds. It couldn’t be more than maybe a hundred of them—if that—but every single one of them was a devastating blow when your entire retinue only consisted of maybe 600 men total.

There was no doubt that she continued to inspire them just by being in their presence, allowing them to gaze upon the person they thought was wiser and more deserving than themselves. In the recent weeks, however, she could tell that the light behind their eyes was slowly fading. They didn’t see an end coming soon to the carnage, no matter how slowly it was reaped.

She looked from one patient to the next, smiling and shaking hands and bowing as was expected of her. It took longer than she would have liked, but she finally approached Alec’s bed, where Oryn was perched by his feet hunched over a massive tome.

His injuries weren’t as severe as May had assumed. The burns were the worst of it, taking the longest to heal and the only reason he was still being kept in bed.

“How are you holding up?” May smiled, meeting his gaze. He couldn’t help but smile back at her, his eyes still full of hope.

“You could’ve let me up days ago,” he said, nudging Oryn with his foot under the blanket. “But at least now you’re letting me be useful.”

Oryn nodded, shuffling where they sat and waving their hand at whatever it was Alec said, too absorbed by the book in their lap to have heard anything.

“He’d do really well with proper tutors,” Alec said, all but beaming with pride. “I never thought Clergy History was too fun, but we have to cover that first before we start with the real stuff. Look at this,” he said, immediately changing the subject as he slowly peeled back one of the bandages wrapped around his arm.

May peered into the healing wound, still leaking a bit here and there with the skin having faded from a vicious red into a more tender pink. “You seem more anxious than excited to get out of bed,” she said, eyeing him with suspicion. “I don’t want you fighting yet. Besides,” she gestured towards Oryn who had all but stuck their face right up against the aging parchment, “it’s too important to teach him about the world. I can’t risk you,” she tousled his hair, not realizing the care in the gesture until her hand was back at her side.

He laughed before pouting as he fixed his hair. He really was just a boy.

“Alright,” May sighed, “I’m sorry to have to pull you away from your studies,” she waved a hand in between Oryn’s face and the pages of their book, finally pulling them away from whatever they were reading, “But you and I have some planning to discuss.”

[blue2jay]

Financial Criticism

Summary :Your parents make passive remarks about your financial situation or career path, suggesting you’re not as successful as your sibling. Leon shuts them down by explaining your strengths and what you bring to the table.

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“Worth More Than Gold”

Dinner was barely halfway through, and you already wanted to disappear into the floor. Seated at the dining table with Leon beside you, you listened quietly as your parents launched into their usual routine—lavishing praise on your sibling and subtly tearing down your life choices.

“Melissa just closed on that gorgeous new house,” your mother said proudly, sipping her wine. “It’s in a gated community, of course—so safe and peaceful. She’s so smart with her money, planning for the future like that.”

“Good for her,” you replied softly, keeping your eyes on your plate.

Your father chimed in, clearly ready to deliver his favorite critique. “You know, Y/N, you could have done something similar by now if you’d chosen a different path. A desk job isn’t so bad—it’s stable, predictable. You wouldn’t have to live paycheck to paycheck or worry about saving for things like a house or… a family.”

Leon’s fork paused mid-air. He glanced at you, brow furrowed slightly as he caught the way your shoulders slumped. The familiar weight of their criticism was hitting you harder than usual, and Leon didn’t like that one bit.

“I’m doing fine,” you said quietly, trying to defuse the tension.

“Fine isn’t good enough, sweetheart,” your mother replied with a sigh. “You’re not getting any younger, and you don’t even have a proper plan in place. How long can you keep running around doing this ‘work’ of yours?”

Leon set his fork down with deliberate calm, his blue eyes sharp and focused as he turned to your parents. “I’m sorry, but do you two have any idea what Y/N actually does?”

Your father looked up, surprised by Leon’s tone. “Well, we know it’s some sort of… field work,” he said dismissively. “Running around to dangerous places, jumping at shadows. It’s not exactly a long-term career path.”

Leon leaned back in his chair, his hand resting casually on the table as his mouth curved into a small smirk—dangerous, calm, and entirely in control. “With all due respect, sir, that ‘running around’ you’re talking about is the reason a lot of people get to come home alive. Including me.”

The room went silent.

Leon continued, his voice low but firm. “Y/N doesn’t just ‘jump at shadows.’ She’s one of the most capable field agents I’ve ever worked with. I’ve seen her handle life-or-death decisions that would freeze most people in their tracks. She’s saved lives, taken down threats, and brought entire teams out of hostile zones. You can’t put a price tag on that kind of work.”

Your mother frowned, clearly uncomfortable. “That sounds… excessive. Surely there are other people who could handle those jobs.”

Leon chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Not like Y/N. Trust me, when we’re out there, no one keeps a cooler head or makes smarter calls. And don’t even get me started on her high kick.”

You blinked, your face heating up as you turned to him. “Leon—”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, grinning like a cat who’d caught a mouse. “You know it’s impressive. The last guy who tried to take us down got a boot to the jaw so hard I almost felt bad for him.”

“Leon!” you hissed, mortified as your mother’s face paled and your father shifted uncomfortably.

Leon shrugged innocently, though the mischievous glint in his eye gave him away. “What? It’s true. She’s got skills most people couldn’t even dream of.” He turned back to your parents, his tone turning serious again. “I don’t think you understand just how hard Y/N works—how much she sacrifices to keep people safe. You’re lucky to have someone like her in the family.”

Your father cleared his throat, clearly trying to salvage his pride. “Well, I’m sure it’s… admirable in its own way. But it’s not exactly a path to financial success, is it?”

Leon’s eyes narrowed slightly, though his smile remained polite. “Depends on how you measure success. Because if you ask