#i added those that made me feel so many emotions

[evilslushy]

hii!! i <3 ur fics, could u write one abt y/n finding out she's pregnant with her bf (hamzah) 's baby, and she tells him in some cute way and maybe with some fluff/smut?? i just feel like hamzah has such a breeder kink that he would love it😭

When the Time Is Right

Husband!Hamzah x f!reader

(A/N): lowkey proofread this (#ChristmasMiracles) I apologize, this is actually horrifically bad. One of the reasons why and honestly—it’s on me! I should’ve made a detailed request rules post! >_< but i hate anything that has to do with pregnancy—being pregnant—anything of that sort! I was really struggling with this and I tried to change it up to them trying for a baby after many failed attempts but… I still think this is HORRIBLE ;( I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me after taking so long to get back to you with a really shitty version of that you asked for </3

High-key angst, mentions of failed attempts of pregnancies, borderline smut but not really, still—MDNI!

wc: 1.3k

As awkward as it is to say out loud, you and Hamzah have been trying for a baby for some time now. And as much as it breaks your heart to see those pregnancy tests showing negative results, it hurts even more to witness the disappointment in Hamzah’s eyes.

You both try to mask your pain with hopeful smiles and encouraging words, but the silence that follows each failed attempt grows heavier. Hamzah, ever the optimist, often reassures you, saying, “It’ll happen when the time is right.” Yet, you’ve caught him more than once staring into the distance, lost in thought, his expression tinged with longing whenever the topic is brought up.

Today was no exception to your previous attempts, your husband sneaking beside you—your eyes meeting his, hesitantly. “What’s wrong?” He uses elbow to prop himself beside you, moving your hair away from your face with his other hand. It rested on your shoulder, messaging it a bit to help set some comfort for you.

“I’m…” you began, but the words stuck in your throat. Taking a deep breath, you tried again. “I know how badly you want this.” You looked away briefly, then added, “And I want it too.” You needed him to understand that this wasn’t something you felt pressured into—it was something you both deeply desired.

His face softened, his gaze full of understanding. “I know,” he said quietly. “We can try another day if you just want to sleep tonight.” His hand moved up and down your arm in soothing strokes before slipping down to intertwine his fingers with yours.

You shook your head. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” he asked gently.

“I just don’t want you to be disappointed again.”

He snorted softly, a playful edge to his response. “You’re being ridiculous. Baby, I’m not disappointed.” You looked up at him, leaning into his chest, your lips pressing into a slight pout. “I see how sad you get. It makes me sad,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

Hamzah’s expression shifted, and he used the hand holding yours to guide it over his waist. Then he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer, cradling you against him as if to shield you from the weight of your own worries. “I’m not sad,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I told you before, it’ll happen at the right time.”

You hummed against his chest, the arm that wrapped around you moving up and down as his fingers ghostly ran across your back. You shivered, looking back up at your husband after hiding in his chest for a few minutes. He looked down—smiling at you. The gap between your lips closing, his smile felt against your lips.

He flipped you away from his body, hovering over you; his lips still attached to yours. Your hands slipping under his loose fitted shirt, feeling for his waist to pull him towards you. The way he kisses you alone shows you how much dedication he has for you. He sighs into the kiss, pulling away to take his shirt off. Taking the hint from your lingering hands.

You smile at him, the proud and excited smile on his face made you break into a fit of giggles. His index finger hooks the elastic band of your pajama shorts, pulling them away from you then letting it go so it’d snap back and hit your skin. Leaning down to kiss you again while his finger hooked your shorts off your legs.

A moan slipped out of your throat—sounding like a groan in pain, making him pull away to see what’s wrong. His lips were left plumper, eyes lidded—chest heaving. The sensual air thick around him, your heart skips a beat.

He raised his eyebrow, indicating his curiosity. “You okay?” He asked. Everything about this, his tone, his warmth, the energy around you. It could send you to sleep. Your hand reaches for his hip, moving upwards to caress his waist. “Yeah.” You cup his face, creasing his cheeks by rubbing your thumbs up and down.

Hamzah’s eyes wandered over your features, studying you intently, as if memorizing every detail of your expression. Slowly, his face leaned toward your right hand, his cheek pressing softly into your palm. His lips curved into a faint smile, and for a moment, the world outside your shared bubble seemed to disappear.

“You’re quiet,” he murmured, his tone inviting you to open up but never pushing. His hand slid up to cover yours on his cheek, his fingers warm and grounding. “You don’t have to keep everything inside, you know. Are you not feeling it?”

His words made your chest tighten, not in a painful way, but in that overwhelming way love and vulnerability often do. “I just don’t wanna let you down,” you admitted softly, your voice breaking slightly.

Hamzah shook his head, his smile faint as his hand squeezed yours gently. “You could never let me down,” he said firmly, his gaze locking with yours.

The way he looked at you made your heart flutter, a warmth spreading through your chest that both comforted and unsettled you. His fingers slid from your hand to your wrist, his touch light but intentional as he guided your hand down to rest against his chest. You could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm, grounding yet electrifying.

“Such a pretty girl. Pretty for me.” He murmured, his voice lower now, the edges softened by the intimacy of the moment. His other hand settled at your waist, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles that sent a ripple of heat through you.

You blinked, unable to form words, your breath catching as he leaned in closer. The faintest smile tugged at his lips before he tilted his head, brushing his nose against yours in a gesture so tender it made your pulse race.

“Hamzah…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but it was enough to draw him in further.

His lips hovered over yours, teasingly close, his breath warm against your skin. “Tell me what you need,” he said softly, his tone a mix of care and something deeper, something that made your cheeks flush.

Your hand slid down his chest, fingers curling around the fabric of the hems of his shirt. That was all he needed to feel.

His lips met yours again, gently, with a hunger that had been building. His hand pressed beside your head to hold himself above you. The kiss was slow at first, unhurried and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment. But as your fingers threaded through his hair, tugging him closer, his restraint began to waver.

The world around you blurred; the only thing that mattered was the way his touch ignited every nerve in your body, making you forget everything except him. Every issue you’d faced, every tear you've cried, every painful heart tug melted into an intoxicating sensation you couldn’t get enough of.

He hummed against your lips. His hand moved, slowly, from your waist to your knee, bending it upwards—spreading your leg away to settle in between them. A quiet gasp left your lips at his sudden change in manner. His hand slipped down from your knees to your thigh, settling past it on your hip. Squeezing as he pulled away.

His lips began to trail kisses on from your jaw to your neck, the way his breathing brushed against your skin made your heart feel warm, even in these situations where lust would be the only thing you’d want to feel, his love would wash down on you intensely.

Your arms around his neck, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. Enjoying the feeling of your husband’s sensual touch on you.

[moeblob]

Happy Birthday to Ferdinand von Aegir!

I actually made 33 emotes, affectionately known as Aegirglyphics to some, for my own personal use on discord. However, I figure why not share some of them! They're free to use for discord servers/icons/pfps or whatever. However, my only request is Do NOT use them as subscriber emotes on Twitch. You can make them free follower emotes but you are not to make them locked behind a paywall.

[toestalucia]

“  i wanna get better.  ” @wayfaringastral

meme.

It's words they hadn't considered, lost in the never-ending spiral of situations out of their control, the pieces of words and actions remaining sprawled across the table. Rosetta and Io had said he acted strange in Agastia when they stayed behind to fight Fenrir, and it was in that same city he first denied their request. A moment like looking in a mirror, perhaps a bit distorted, but the expression he had been wearing had been uncomfortably close to their own. (Why wouldn't it? When their hearts had lost its meaning.)

And then a memory that wasn't theirs emerged, and any thoughts about his grief was shelved.

They aren't surprised. They should be. This wasn't the kind of conversation they had ever had (but neither was any other). How many times now had he helped them out? Whether intentionally or not (watching the Grandsleuth made them wonder about the path their father had travelled, she looked more happy in the sky than locked to some harbor). Getting better — from the grief? Or from the past. He should be better, they should be better, everything was alright now. The night sky was glimmering, stars from a distant place gently offering warmth across a backdrop that wasn't broken anymore. Should they aim for it next? The moon or the stars—whichever would make people laugh in disbelief.

"You should visit sometime", it flows naturally, as if they were talking about tea and not matters of the heart. Since everything was alright and returning to normal, the bond between them should also return to its uncertain, wavering form. Not a friend, but not quite a foe, a presence they weren't able to name.

If they hadn't put their existence in his hands.

If they weren't realizing that whenever someone left their sight the memories of that day crashed through their mind. Their heart uneasy even in the comfort of the Grandcypher, knowing that Io and Rosetta were making dinner with Lyria and Vyrn. And yet. And yet.

"I can't say everyone will be positive", Phoebe had been rather distraught upon sensing Astrals nearby, and as much as it pained them to see, they also knew she trusted them when they said Loki and Mikaboshi wouldn't do her any harm. "But they won't turn you away", for good and for worse, a group of people insistent on feeling the pain and joy of others, and Gran loved them so very dearly for it. A pause follows, hesitant on how to continue, on how to speak of matters such as this without the ever compassionate Lyria by their side.

"...If you hadn't helped us, then we'd still be...no, maybe I would have already..." the what-if's haunting their dreams following in a jumbled mess, trailing off while they take a moment to try again. "...Thank you. For helping us out again", this mask I wear can't be removed. Did that still ring true, when he spoke like this? "Lyria is better at this than I am, but...I think we've been through enough that we don't have to be on different sides anymore. We don't have to see eye-to-eye, and you don't have to tell me what's happening, but I don't want to be suspicious of you and your crew next time we meet. You gave me the chance to save the people I love. I want to trust you, Loki", for the first time they shift their gaze to look at him, as steadfast and determined as always, leaving someone behind had never been something they could do. "If there's anything I—we—can do for you, then we'll do it. That's why...if you want to talk about things, you know where to find us."

[prickly-paprikash]

Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.

Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.

2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.

Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.

N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.

And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.

Drake is none of that.

He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.

Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.

2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.

N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.

50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.

Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.

I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.

Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.

@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

in the refrigerator light

summary: you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in. wc: 1.9 k a/n: to be fair I did warn you that this would happen. I have a few more ideas kicking around in my head, but feel free to send requests if you have any! this doesn't take place during any particular movie, fyi, but you and Logan are both teaching at the school warnings: fluffy fluff, mutant!reader, empathic powers!reader, soft!Logan

You should have been asleep. Even after choosing to stay on at the school past your education, you’d had a hard time shaking habits of the past. It still felt strange to walk freely into professor only areas, and you were always in bed by 11:00 pm every night. Sneaking down to the kitchen to steal one of the chocolate bars you knew Scott had stashed deep in the back of a cabinet felt wrong, but the siren song was too strong to resist. 

You’d been quiet, making sure to avoid the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) before shuffling into the kitchen. You rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to the proper cabinet. The only problem being that it was much higher up than you remember. It was times like these that made you wish for a more helpful mutation, like telekinesis or at least a few extra inches of height. You struggled for a few moments, on your tippy toes, stretching your arm as far as you could reach before you gave up. You sighed, raking your hands through your hair and making your peace with the fact that chocolate was not in your future tonight. 

“Scoot over, bub.” You jumped and let out a small shriek, before clasping a hand over your mouth. It was rare that anyone got the drop on you these days, your power more finely tuned and emotions tending to be strong around the manor, but your guard was decidedly down in the place you’d called home for so many years. But Logan was an exception to many rules. HIs hand gently gripped your wrist, pulling you against his chest for a brief moment before moving to stand in front of the cabinet. He reached up into the cabinet, the zip up hoodie he wore pulling up to expose a few inches of his stomach before pulling down a few bars of chocolate with ease. He smiled, the crinkles by his eyes more prominent in the low light of the kitchen. You did your best to appear like you hadn’t just been ogling him. 

“How did you know-”

“Scott’s shit at secrets.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You think he’d learn by now to not be such a loud mouth in a house full of people with enhanced hearing”. 

Your laugh was quiet, muffled by your hand in the interest of not waking the others. “Well, in that case, I hope one of those is for me.” 

Logan shrugged, eyes full of mirth. “What’ll you give me for it?” 

You blinked, unsure of yourself. You weren’t used to this Logan, yet. He was usually gruff and reserved, always reluctant to give into the kids in his history class that were trying to derail the lesson with a joke or two. He’d been playful a few times in your presence, and it almost always made you worried that the other shoe was about to drop. Seeing him in pajama pants and a soft grey sweatshirt only added to the strangeness situation. 

For the briefest moment, you considered using your powers. A single touch and you would know exactly how he was feeling. It was a blessing and a curse, to be able to be sure of how others were feeling with a single touch. A god-send on intel gathering or stealthy missions, a terrible temptation at midnight alone in the kitchen of the manor with the man you had harbored a crush on for as long as you’d known him. You make to grab one of the bars out of his hand, but he is too fast for you, quickly lifting them over his head. Your eyes narrowed. 

Fine, two can play at this game. You roll your shoulders back, drawing up your courage. “Depends what you want for it.” 

Logan grinned, dropping his arms and holding the bars behind his back. “Well, what I don’t want is to be an accomplice in your quest for cavities. Chuck’d have my head if he found out I had a part to play.”  

“I’m a big girl, Logan. I can take care of myself” You grab for the chocolate, but he’s too quick for you. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other, the moment charged. You lunged for the chocolate again, but Logan is already halfway across the kitchen, waving the chocolate around teasingly. 

“Logan, please” you laugh, following around the island. He cocked his head to the side, smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You were seconds away from stomping your foot and demanding he hand the chocolate over, when his smirk grew into a grin. 

“Alright bub,” he made his way around the island, depositing one of the chocolate bars in your hand. “You know I can’t say no to you.” 

You did your best to tamp down the butterflies that suddenly made a home in your stomach, but his smile was so gentle and he looked so soft, it was hard not to feel a little lovestruck. You snapped a piece of the bar off, and held it out to him. You dutifully busied yourself with breaking off a piece for yourself, ignoring the way that his affectionate gaze seemed to never leave you. 

“You’re not usually up this late,” he says, holding his hand out for another piece. You shrug, dropping another section into his hand. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Welcome to the club.” You knew that Logan had trouble sleeping, he was usually the first one hunched over a cup of coffee in the mornings, steadfastly ignoring inquiries into how he slept. 

“I, um” You hesitated. Usually offers of using your powers didn’t go well. You took a breath, steadying yourself. The worst he could say was no, right? “I could help with that, if you want.” 

Logan reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You could tell your eyes were the size of saucers, but you couldn’t find words. After a few moments, Logan took a step back, shaking his head slightly. You blinked owlishly, taking a breath to steady yourself. 

“That’s sweet of you, bub. But I wouldn’t want to tucker you out.” It was no secret around the house that although you had a less physical mutation, it still took some of your energy. Sensing emotions was as natural as breathing, but influencing them was newer, and took much more focus. 

You pointedly glanced at the clock over the stove, noting that it was well past any reasonable bedtime, before facing Logan once more. “That actually sounds really nice.” He mumbled something about not wanting to take advantage of you, but the words died in his throat when your hand found his own. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he would be able to see how earnest you were being. “I don’t want to force you, but I want to be asleep more than anything, and I can tell that you are too wound up about something to even begin to fall asleep.” 

His thumb stroked over the back of your hand a few times, before he stepped around you and led you out of the kitchen. You expected him to turn towards the living room, where you’d caught him ‘resting his eyes’ a few times in the middle of the day. Instead, he turned right making sure to skip the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) and right up to the door of your room. 

“A bit presumptuous, no?” You asked, before opening the door and walking through. 

Logan rolled his eyes, leaning against your doorframe. “I was there the first time you tried this. Figured it was best that no one has to pick you up off the floor.” 

You felt your face grow hot, remembering the unmitigated disaster that had occurred the first time Charles suggested that this application of your powers was a possibility. Your chin tilted up, doing your best to project confidence. “Well, it’s been a while since then, I’ve gotten better.” 

If the lighting had been better, you would have seen the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks. “Rogue’s in my room.” You couldn’t help it, your eyebrows shot up near your hairline. “She and Bobby got into a fight, she wanted somewhere she would be left alone.” His hands were twisting in the pockets of his sweatshirt as he ducked his head down low. 

“Is that why you were prowling around the kitchen?” He rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Well, do you wanna stay here tonight?” He looked like he was about to object, but you held your hand up, effectively silencing him. “You’re doing a favor for Rogue, let me do one for you.” 

“Thought you were already doin’ me a favor, sweetheart.” He protested, all while moving towards your bed. 

You perched on the edge of your bed, consciously doing your best to keep your heart rate in check. The students always joked that between Charles and Jean’s mind reading and Logan being able to hear cheaters hearts speeding up, it wasn’t even worth it to try and cheat in class. It hadn’t occurred to you that if he could hear your heart fluttering, he could definitely hear the measured deep breaths you were taking to mitigate the issue. 

You reached for his hand, and he accepted it readily. His palm was shockingly smooth under yours, it must be from his regenerative powers. Your thumb gently ran across his knuckles, still slightly red from the training session he’d had with some of the students earlier in the day. You tugged on his arm slightly, and he lowered himself down onto the bed beside you. “I thought that it’s important to work as a team, sometimes.” 

“You spyin’ on me, bub?” You sheepishly meet his eyes, but find nothing but tenderness waiting for you. “I’ll try to forgive you.” He drops a kiss on your knuckles, before motioning for you to lay down. “I’ll take the floor.” 

You tightened your grip on his hand. If he really wanted to, he could have broken away easily. Instead, he paused, eyebrows raised and waiting for an explanation. “Not much of a favor if your back hurts in the morning from sleeping on the floor” you shrugged. 

“Only if you’re sure-”

“Just get in the damn bed Logan.” He grinned, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed. You followed shortly after, and slipped your hand back into his. The both of you laid in silence for a few moments, adjusting to your new arrangement. You were nice and toasty warm, able to feel the heat radiating off him under the covers. You were in the middle of working up the courage to actually use your powers, when soft snores began to emanate from the other side of the bed. You chanced a glance towards him only to find his lashes gently fanned out over his cheeks, and his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing. 

After a few moments, you followed him into dreamland. In the morning, you woke up with his arm firmly around your waist, feeling fully rested for one of the first times in your life. Again, you waited for the awkwardness to come, for your face to flush and your stammer to pick back up, but you were left waiting.

feedback is very much appreciated, as I’ve never written for Logan before! let me know what you think <3

next part

[livwritessometimes]

Enough For You - Lando Norris

: Lando Norris x Reader

: All Y/n wanted was to be enough for Lando

: Series Masterlist

: Main Masterlist

: Author's Note - I had been so busy with work that this kept on getting delayed but anyways it's finally here! lmk what you think.

…

liked by landonorris and 72,393 others

👤: landonorris

Yourname: Running around the city with my favourite papaya boy (Osc yk it's always you he paid me to say that)! At this point I deserve an award for how many years I've put up with your antics <3

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oscarpiastri: Wow so this is what betrayal feels like (It's okay i know I'm your favourite, let little Lando Norris have his fun)

-> landonorris: i- bitch please I'm older than you

-> yourname: @/landonorris shhhh let the grown ups talk

*liked by oscarpiastri*

landonorris: oh please you love it!

-> yourname: do I now?

-> landonorris: 😏

-> User73: THIS SEXUAL TENSION AHHH!!!!!

-> User21: And then they say "we're just friends" ya just friends my ass

User93: Hmm so Lando spent his only day off during race week with y/n....interesting

Y/n waved as she watched Lando drive away from her doorstep. Today had been like a fever dream. When Lando called her, asking to spend time with her, Y/n was over the moon. It was like wishing for something and having it come true. As she entered the house, she got a text from Lando:

Lando 🧡: I had a lot fun! thanks for keeping me company today!

Smiling to herself, Y/n made her way into her bedroom. There at the vanity mirror was a photo of her and Lando from when they were 18 years old. It was the night they both went for a bonfire with some of their friends. It was also the first time Y/n realised that she was madly in love with Lando. She doesn't know if it was the melted marshmallow that he somehow managed to get in his hair or the fact that he noticed her getting cold amongst so many people at the bonfire and offered her his hoodie, a hoodie that she still wears to this date, but somehow, surrounded by friends, all Y/n could see was Lando, sitting on a wooden log, looking back at her from between the flames that rose from the wood. 

As she got ready for the night Y/n got another text from Lando:

Lando 🧡: Just got home

Lando 🧡: Again thanks for today, everyone I called was busy or just didn't want to go. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there

And the bittersweet feeling was back again. For Y/n, Lando was the sun; he was the center of everything. There was not a day that went by without him not being on her mind - their impromptu coffee runs, their inside jokes, their stolen glances. Yet every time Y/n let herself believe that something was going to happen between them, she was always met with disappointment. It seemed like she was always a convenient option for Lando. Someone he'd come to when he had no one around but would easily disregard when he found someone more exciting. Y/n thinks about all those times she spent crying because she felt used. About the time when Lando threw her a birthday party and then proceeded to spend the entire night hitting on almost every girl present at the venue. The worst part is that Y/n wasn't even mad; instead, she was sad about the fact that she wasn't one of the girls. All she would ask for at every birthday wish, every 11:11, every rainbow she saw was for Lando to finally see her.

Y/n could feel herself get emotional, so she decided to browse through her phone, when she got a notification on Twitter.

liked by User32 and 87,989 others

👤: landonorris

LN4Updates: Lando Norris in today's twitch stream!!

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User32: hmm ok let me quickly just go and bleach my entire head 🏃🏻‍♀️

User43: He does seem like he would like blondes more

-> User51: What do you mean?

-> User43: Idk blondes are prettier, they seem to have more fun and lando is the kinda guy that enjoys that ig

Yourname added to their story!

seen by carmenmmundt and 65,821 others

| User93 replied to your story

-> are you perhaps maybe idk just taking a wild guess here could be absolutely off dying your hair b****e??

One thing that Y/n was extremely grateful for in her friendship with Lando was being able to befriend George. Over the years, he had become like a brother to her, and because of George, she also got to know Carmen. She was like a breath of fresh air, and Y/n doesn't know how she would manage her life now without Carmen by her side. The moment they met, it was like they had known each other their whole lives. Carmen was always protective of Y/n. All those times that Y/n found herself crying over Lando, Carmen was always there with her, consoling her. She knows that Carmen wants the best for her and that she's disappointed that Y/n is dying her hair to make Lando like her more, but how can she not? The boy of your dreams likes blondes more, and she would do anything to make him like her. Looking up at the mirror, Y/n stared at her tied-up brunette locks. In the reflection, she caught sight of a book kept on top of her table. She let out a bitter chuckle, remembering the time Lando had posted that book and talked about how impressed he was with it. Like an idiot, Y/n got that book and read it word for word, in hopes that Lando would think that she is smart and that they have more in common than he might think. Instead, Lando barely even registered her comment about the book; he was more focused on the waitress who was taking their order. 

liked by landonorris and 4,92,372 others

👤: yourname

whowhatwear: In this month's cover story, we uncover all the aspects of Y/n L/n's personality we don't get to see on the internet. From starting her modeling career to being heavily involved in Formula 1 ("I got into F1 because of a close friend of mine and since then I have done everything I can to support women in motorsports"), we discuss life struggles, personal growth and more in this month's cover at the link in our bio.

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Yourname: Thank you so much for having me!!! I can't wait for everyone to see this month's edition <3

*liked by whowhatwear*

User88: umm hello since when did you go BLONDEEEEE 👱🏻‍♀️

-> User02: I swearrr! i screamed so loud when I saw thisss

carmenmmundt: SO PROUD OF YOU!!!!!

*liked by Yourname*

-> Yourname: Ahhh thank you Carrr 💕

-> User66: I want what they have!

landonorris: You look absolutely breathtaking in this one @/yourname

*liked by Yourname*

User09: I feel like I have died and reached heaven <3

User69: Serve queen 👸🏼

landonorris: Can't takle my eyes off this post!!! Running to get the copy 🏃🏻💨

*liked by Yourname*

liked by landonorris and 76,730 others

👤: landonorris

yourname: Did someone say tanning season ☀️

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User88: And then they say "we're just friends"

-> User02: I swearrr

landonorris: Prettiest blonde I know

-> yourname: 🙈🙈

User93: @/landonorris whatever you're recording over there, we better get that clip or else

landonorris: The sun came out pretty good didn't it 🤭

-> yourname: It did! I wonder who the artist was

-> landonorris: Must be someone amazing, I mean mad skills right there 🔥

-> User43: HE DREW A SUN ON HER!!!!!!!

liked by yourname and 102,832 others

👤: team_quadrant, riabish

landonorris: SPEEDCO is out now on quadrant.gg check it out!!! Also watch me and ria slay

view all 85,925 comments

riabish: Letsgooo 🙌🏻

riabish: The best looking duo out there!!!

-> landonorris: you know it 😏

User62: you guys look soo goood togetherrrr

-> User55: ikrrr like date already!!

landonorris added to their story!

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| User06 replied to your story

-> Love Party Boy!Lando 🍾

Lando quickly posted a story before he kept his phone back and continued to talk to the girl in front of him. George, Lando, Charles, and a couple of other drivers had decided to go clubbing before race week, and so here Lando was surrounded by friends, enjoying himself. So lost in his conversation, Lando did not notice three pairs of eyes on him. From afar, Y/n, Carmen, and George watched Lando interact with some blonde girl. The three of them had decided to come together for the club.

Y/n felt like laughing at her fate; no matter what she does, he still won't pay attention to her the way she wants him to. Even with her now blonde hair, he was still talking to someone else. Lando made his way towards the trio with the girl from earlier. "Hey, mate, how's it going?" he asked George before turning towards Carmen and saying, "Carmen! It's always a pleasure to see you. You look fabulous, by the way." Lando turned towards Y/n and gave her a nod before taking a sip from his drink, not bothering to say anything else. 

"Good mate, don't you want to, say, compliment Y/n too?" George asked, having seen the look of hurt on Y/n's face when Lando didn't say anything about her. "Nah mate, yk it's just Y/n; she's not the compliment type," Lando said before laughing and throwing an arm around Y/n's shoulder.

Pain, hurt, and embarrassment. That's all Y/n felt under Lando's embrace. She could see the girl from earlier smirking at Y/n after Lando's comment. Suddenly she felt hot, the kind of hot that makes you want to disappear entirely. Carmen saw right through Y/n's fake smile after what Lando had just said. She knew Y/n needed a moment alone, away from this scene and, most importantly, away from Lando. "Y/n I wanted to go touch up my makeup. Would you accompany me to the restroom?" Carmen said and grabbed Y/n's hand, pulling her towards the restroom. 

George and Lando went to the bar to get another drink when George said, "You know, that was kinda mean back there." Lando looked at George, confused. "What you said to Y/n," said George. Lando just shrugged and said, "Yk, how it is with me and her, we're always like this." "Do you know she likes you, like more than a friend?" George couldn't help himself; he knew he'd hear from Carmen and Y/n about this, but he just couldn't control himself. "What?" Lando looked at George, a little shocked. "Ya man, she does. Idk why you keep on chasing these meaningless girls when you have someone as amazing as Y/n by your side, and what for some hours of pleasure?" George said this before he took a sip of his drink and looked at Lando. "Why didn't she say anything?" George just shrugged at that. Lando's mind went back to all the interactions they've ever had, trying to piece together a moment that might confirm this theory that George had just blurted out. 

Meanwhile, in the restroom, Carmen was trying to calm down Y/n "He's just stupid; don't listen to him. You know how many people have come up to try to talk to you today. Don't let him ruin your night," said Carmen. Y/n running hands through her hair, "Ya, but none of them were him, and now he just went ahead and embarrassed me in front of everyone like that." Taking a deep breath, Y/n said, "I think I want to go home. Ya, I'll see you tomorrow for the practice." With that, Y/n rushed out of the restroom and towards the exit. 

Lando saw Y/n leave in a rush and followed her. "Y/n,"  "Y/n wait up." She heard Lando's voice but continued to make her way towards the exit to book a cab for herself. "Wait up, where are you going? And are you booking a cab? It's not safe to take a cab this late," Lando said as he caught up with her at the exit. "It's okay; I'll manage just fine. You can go back to the party now," Y/n replied bitterly before typing in her address. Just as she was about to confirm the cab, Lando took her phone from her hand. "WHAT?" Y/n said a little louder than she had intended to, making a few people look their way. "I'll drop you; please, let me," Lando said before he took her hand and led her to his car. 

The journey was filled with silence; not a single word was exchanged between the two of them. Not even a single glance—well, not from Y/n at least—because Lando kept looking at her every few minutes or so. Growing tired of this weird air in the car, Y/n asked, "Do you want to say anything?" Lando just looked back at her without saying anything. "If not, then please stop looking at me again and again," Y/n said. "I can't help it; you look absolutely stunning," said Lando. Y/n scoffed at that comment before saying, "Oh, why the praise? I thought I wasn't the compliment type." Lando internally regrets saying that now. "Look, I know that you like me. George told me," Y/n felt her heart drop, waiting for Lando to continue, to tell her that he was not interested in her and that she could never be his type- "And I want to give this a try," said Lando, breaking her from her thoughts. "Whatt?" Y/n, not believing her ears, asked again. "What do you mean by you want to give this a chance?" Lando stopped the car at the traffic light before turning to look at Y/n. Taking a hold of her hand, he said, "I want to see where this goes. We have such great chemistry, and everyone else also seems to think the same. I want to give us a try." "So, what do you say, Y/n, L/n? Will you date me?" Lando looked at Y/n, expecting her to answer; what he didn't expect was for her to pull him in for a kiss. It was only when the car behind them started honking that they pulled away from each other. Lando drove Y/n back to her house. The car was filled with silence again, but this time, rather than tension, it was filled with this newfound excitement. 

liked by yourname and 182,822 others

👤: Yourname

landonorris: Another week, Another race!! let's make the most of this one 🧡

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User22: Ummmm so are you not gonna talk about how YOU'RE KISSING Y/N

User01: Ofc betrayed by my favourite driver 💔

Yourname: Let's get podium this week

*liked by landonorris*

-> mclaren: Yess let’s goooo 🏆

*liked by landonorris, Yourname*

liked by User22 and 101,282 others

👤: f1

Formula1Updates: Sebastian Vettel bids farewell to Formula 1. Lewis Hamilton organized a celebratory dinner in honor of the legendary Vettel. All drivers gather together with their wives/girlfriends to celebrate the fantastic journey of Seb. Here is a photo of all the drivers outside the restaurant. Click the link in the bio to learn more!

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User22: The end of an era!!!

Y/n looked around at all the people that had gathered here to celebrate Seb. She had not known him for that long, but when she needed him; he was there for her. It is funny how they first met; it was the race after Y/n's birthday, and Lando had invited her to the paddock as a way to make up to her for ignoring Y/n during her birthday party, which he threw. Y/n was so excited to spend time with him, but all that excitement died down when she got to know that Lando had also invited some of his other friends. Still, she tried to get along with everyone for Lando's sake but it was of no use. Lando barely exchanged a few words with her, instead he spent his entire time with his other friends, which included a bunch of models from Instagram. Y/n remembers how she had gone for a walk in hopes to make her self feel better when she ran into Seb. He just had a way with people, upon seeing her Seb immediately knew something was wrong and what was meant to be a quick 5 min walk to clear her mind turned into a 2 hour ranting session for Y/n. Rest is all history, since then Seb sort of took Y/n under his guidance, always giving her advise when she needed it.

Y/n felt someone stand next to her, and when she turned, she was face-to-face with the man of the evening himself. "Not getting bored, are you?" Seb asked Y/n while giving her a little nudge. "Of course not, just sad that I won't get to see you in the paddock anymore," Y/n said as she let out a sign. Gently pulling her in for a side hug, Seb said, "I see you got the guy!" This caused Y/n to turn her attention to Lando. There he was, the boy she had fallen in love with a long time ago, falling in love with her too. It was as if he could sense her gaze, because at that moment Lando turned to look at Y/n and smiled at her before going to talk to more people present at the party. "Yes, now you no longer have to listen to me mope over him, huh?" Y/n said as she smiled at Seb. "Just know that if he ever breaks your heart, I'll slash his tyres," Seb playfully threatened as he took a sip of his drink. Y/n laughed at his comment before excusing herself to go talk to Alexandra and Carmen.

After a while of chatting, Y/n started to wonder where Lando was. Making her way around the room, she saw him talking to some brunettes. So many people were invited that Y/n had no clue who most of them were. As she made her way towards Lando, she saw the girl raise her hand to fix his hair. Y/n could feel jealousy brewing in her. Quickly making her way towards him, she threw an arm around his waist and greeted him. "Hey, babe, where have you been? They are about to serve dinner; I thought I should come and get you," Y/n said as she looked at the girl in front of her. "Oh yeah, let's get going. I'll talk to you later, Luisa. It was lovely meeting you here, and again, you look amazing. Have a great night," Lando said as he wrapped his arm around Y/n and started walking towards the dining area with her.  Y/n forced herself to smile; she told herself that it's okay; Lando is with her now. All these meaningless compliments to other girls are not going to do anything to change that. At the end of the day, she gets to go home with him, not them, and that's enough. Y/n knew there was no point in dwelling on this; it was not going to do her any good, and if she brought it up, it might cause a fight between them. So instead, Y/n turned her attention to the food in front of her and the people around her. Taking part in their conversation, so she could forget the thoughts plaguing her mind.

liked by landonorris and 76,730 others

👤: landonorris, carmenmmundt

yourname: Too many memories, too many people to tag! What a dinner it was Lewis! Gonna miss having Seb around 🫂

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sebastianvettel: Gonna miss terrorizing mclaren with you @/Yourname

*liked by Yourname*

-> mclaren: 😟

lewishamilton: Thank you Y/n <3 Really glad you we're able to make it

*liked by Yourname*

carmenmmundt: It's you and me against the world 💕

-> Yourname: Forever and ever 🤞🏻

*liked by carmenmmundt*

User68: Okay but way hasn't Lando commented???

liked by yourname and 120,732 others

👤: maxfewtrell, luisinhaoliveira99

landonorris: Had one of the best trips in Dubai!!! Can't wait to visit again 🌵

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maxfewtrell: Best part was when you fell from the camel 😂

-> landonorris: what the hell mate!! you were supposed to keep that a secret

User01: Shirtless landooo 🤤

User48: Omgggg Lando and Luisa look so cuteeeee

-> User03: Dudee he has a gf why would you ship him with her??

-> User48: Honestly I think they look better together

Y/n felt hurt and disappointed. Boys trip! That's what Lando had said, so when she saw him post pictures with Luisa, she felt her heart sank. For a moment, Y/n was still ready to ignore this; maybe she was there at the same time, or maybe they did plan to go. Who cares? She trusts Lando, and that's all that should matter. But all the comments under his post talking about how he looks better with Luisa and how Lando and Y/n should have never gotten together made her question everything.

Unable to think straight, Y/n called Lando:

Lando: Hey, babe (he greeted cheerfully)

Y/n: (For a second, Y/n wanted to forget about all of this and just not make things worse between them) Hey Lan, How was the trip?

Lando: Oh, it was great. I had so much fun; the boys and I went on a safari and all too!! It was just amazing

Y/n: Oh, did the boys have fun?

Lando: Yes, it was honestly one of the best trips I've ever been on

Y/n: Why was Luisa with you guys? (Y/n went straight to the topic, tired of beating around the bush)

Lando: (hesitant) What do you mean, she came on the trip with us?

Y/n: You never told me she was also going. Why did she go anyway? I thought it was just an "all boys trip," or is Luisa one of the boys now?

Lando: What do you even mean? Of course not. Luisa came because I invited her. That day at Seb's dinner, we had such a good conversation that I asked her if she wanted to come with us. I mean, what's the big deal anyway?

Y/n: What's the big deal? The big deal is that you failed to mention to your girlfriend, who is still me, that you were going on a trip with another girl who, by the way, you met a couple of weeks ago. And now you're telling me you invited her?? Do you see why I am having a hard time trying to wrap my head around this?

Lando: Honestly, you're making a bigger deal than it actually is. Ya, so I invited her. It's not like I fucked her or anything, and forgive me if inviting a friend on a trip is a crime.

Y/n: A friend I'd still understand; she's not your friend Lando, and if anything, you should have asked me to come and not her!

Lando: Is that what the problem is—you're jealous I didn't invite you? Honestly, Y/n that's just pathetic, even for you. Your constant need to be around me 24/7 is so annoying sometimes. Do you ever think that maybe I invited Luisa because I can't stand this clingy behaviour of yours? But, of course, you'd never think about how you might be at fault here. I just feel like you can never be satisfied, like ever. Every time I talk to a girl, you have an issue. I mean, if it's such a huge issue, then let's just end things. That would make things a lot simpler for the both of us.

Y/n: No, wait, I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry if you felt like that. I had no idea that you were feeling like that. I swear, I don't have an issue with you interacting with other girls. It's just all these comments online that have been getting to me.

Lando: You know, they always say random things. People ship me with any beautiful girl they see me with, but that doesn't mean that it will come true. You should be so easy to control that even meaningless comments get to you.

Y/n: Ya, I'm sorry

Lando: It's okay. Now, what are you doing tonight? There is a party I want to attend, and I wanted to know if you'd like to come with me

Y/n: Oh, nothing, I'm free. Pick me up at 8?

Lando: You got it! Anyway, I should get going.

Y/n: Bye, I love yo-(Lando hung up before she could finish)

Signing to herself, Y/n opened her chat with Carmen

Y/n: Hey, sorry to inform you at the last minute, but something came up and I won't be able to make it tonight. (Y/n felt guilty about ditching Carmen on their movie night. She knew if she told her the real reason, Carmen would be extremely upset with Y/n, but more than that, angry at Lando)

Carmen 🤎: Is everything okay??

Y/n: Ya, ya, everything is fine. I just remembered this thing I had to complete that I forgot because I kept on procrastinating.

Carmen 🤎: Ofc you'd do that 🤦🏻‍♀️ How many times have I told you to use the planner I gave you? It would make life so much simpler for you

Y/n: Ikkkk I'll use it again next time!! I swear 🫶🏻

Carmen 🤎: Good 😌

Yourname added to their story!

seen by carmenmmundt and 73,028others

| carmenmmundt replied to your story

-> You're out partying again??

Yourname: Ya! Lando got invited to this club so now we're here patyinggg

| landonorris replied to your story

-> Where did you gooo?? come backkkkk i msisss youhhh

Yourname: are you drunk?? lol ok I'm omw to find you <3

liked by User82 and 81,728 others

👤: landonorris, luisinhaoliveira99

LN4Updates: Lando Norris and Luisinha Oliveira were spotted in the Mclaren vicinity. The two previously went on a trip together to Dubai. Fans on Twitter are convinced that these two are seeing each other and that Norris and Y/n L/n have broken up, but there is no confirmation from all the parties involved. From what we can gather, Norris and Oliveira seemed to have a friendly conversation. Some fans present at the race claim that they saw Norris being a little more affectionate towards Oliveira, but nothing can be said for certain. Is this the end of Norris and L/n, or is there more to the story?

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User20: NOO don't tell me they broke up!!!

User82: Honestly I kinda knew this was gonna happen. I mean Y/n is not really Lando's type. I was really surprised when they had announced they were dating

-> User08: Okay but who asked you for your opinion?? They are perfect

-> User77: I'd have to disagree. Lando and Luisa are more compatible you just don't want to accept the fact that lany/n are not that great

Y/n was fuming. She felt as if someone had slapped her right across the face. Even after letting Lando know about her concerns and reservations about him hanging out with Luisa, he went ahead and did it again. Was this the reason why Lando urged Y/n to take a break from the constant travelling? So that he could have Luisa in the paddock with him? Y/n was disgusted; she felt used and discarded. She changed everything about herself—her hair, the way she dresses, the way she talks—hell, she even started to go to his stupid parties with him to make him like her more. There is always a breaking point in everyone's life, and Y/n had reached that. 

Y/n could feel hurt and anger taking over when she heard the front door of her house open. Lando was home from the race. Without wasting a second, Y/n barged into the living room, only to find Lando relaxing on the couch. "How dare you!" Y/n screamed at Lando. If she wasn't so mad, she would have laughed at Lando's confused expression. "What? What do you mean?" asked Lando. "Don't play dumb with me. I told you how I felt about her, and yet you still invited her to the paddock." Y/n could feel tears pricking her eyes. "What? Luisa? How many times do we have to go through this? At this point, I might as well date her. Because clearly, that's what you think I am doing anyway. You might as well make your wish come true," Lando finished. "I hate you, Lando Norris. I fucking hate you so much. I changed everything EVERYTHING for you. I wanted to be like all those girls you usually like. I changed the way I wear makeup; I changed my freaking hair color because you said you liked blondes more in a stupid stream." Y/n let out a shaky breath before continuing. "When you told me you wanted to give us a try, I was so happy. It felt like the universe had finally heard my prayers. I was so happy that I spent the entire night lying on my bed with a huge smile on my face. You know, I always feared that this would happen. I knew that you'd leave me the second you'd find someone more exciting," Y/n said as she wiped the tears streaming down her face. "I had no idea you felt like this," Lando said. For a second, he almost sounded genuine, like he finally saw how his actions had affected Y/n. "I'm sorry you felt that way," Lando said as he looked back at her. "It's a little too late for sorry now, Lando. You have done the damage," Y/n said. "I said I was sorry. Why can't that be enough for you? What do you want me to do? Stop talking to every girl I ever see." Lando said, getting frustrated with how things were going. "I should have known that this was just a waste of time. I would have had such an easy life if George hadn't opened his big mouth and blabbered about how my life would be much better if I just gave you a try and stopped chasing after meaningless pleasure. If only I had known that I was just choosing one meaningless pleasure over another," Lando said as he finally let his frustration take over. Y/n couldn't take it anymore. "Get out! Just get the hell out of my house. I don't want to see your face ever again. I regret the day I met you. I regret it with every fibre present in my body," Y/n said as she watched Lando leave her house, but not before slamming the front door shut. 

Y/n broke down, sinking to the floor. She took her phone out to text Carmen.

landonorris added to their story!

seen by luisinhaoliveira99 and 91,298 others

| luisinhaoliveira99 replied to your story

-> ❤️‍🔥

liked by luisinhaoliveira99 and 100,789 others

👤: luisinhaoliveira99

landonorris: Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years 💕

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User02: Wait does this mean that Lando and Y/n are no longer together??

-> User54: Did you not see the story Lando posted the other day?? I think that was enough to confirm that 💔

User98: He used lyrics from loverrr!!!! this boy is down bad

luisinhaoliveira99: Can we always be this close! Forever and ever <3

*liked by landonorris*

User82: I'm happy that he is happy but isn't this too soon? like he just broke up with Y/n. I mean the least we can do is wait for a month or something not just a few days!!!

-> User66: That's so true! I was thinking the same thing. I mean unless....This has been going on for a while! That's the only explanation cause why else would he jump into a new relationship so quickly??

-> User82: I mean it could be! Do you think this is why George unfollowed Lando??

Y/n saw Lando's post, confirming that he was with Luisa. Y/n hated that girl. She had everything Y/n could have wanted, and she didn't even have to change herself to get Lando's attention. Tired of feeling sorry for herself, Y/n made her way to her bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, all she could see was a part of her that she no longer liked. A pathetic part of her that tried everything just so she could get a boy to love her longer. Frustrated, she got into her car and drove to the salon she always goes to. It was about time she felt like her old self again, and the easiest step in that direction was getting rid of the sad blonde locks that covered her head.

Yourname added to their story!

seen by carmenmmundt and 65,821 others

| User93 replied to your story

-> Yessss the queen is backkkkk 👑

liked by User22 and 101,282 others

👤: Yourname, shawnmendes

F1Gossip: Bye bye Lando! Y/n L/n, the former girlfriend of Lando Norris, was spotted getting cozy with singer/songwriter Shawn Mendes. The two reportedly first met when they were doing a campaign together for Tommy Hilfiger. Ever since the announcement of Norris's new relationship, L/n has become radio silent. Apart from posting a single story and work-related content, L/n has left her fans guessing about what's been going on with her life. Neither Mendes nor L/n have commented on the paparazzi photos that captured them looking anything but friendly. Is there a new couple on the block or are they "Just Friends?" Stay tuned for more updates on this situation!

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User11: Ohhhh not the "Just friends" shadeeee 🫢

liked by Yourname and 143,086 others

👤: Yourname

shawnmendes: Nothing to see here, just me, my beautiful girlfriend, and our little baby 🦮

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Yourname: The most perfect family I could have ever asked for <3

-> shawnmendes: ❤️

*liked by Yourname*

carmenmmundt: When do i get to meet the most handsome boy in the world???

-> georgerussell63: what do you mean? I just saw you

-> Yourname: 😀

-> shawnmendes: 😀

-> carmenmmundt: 😀

-> georgerussell63: 😌

georgerussell63: The baby in question is a grown ass dog that tried to chew my shoes the other day

-> Yourname: Your fault, should have just let him bite you instead 😒

-> georgerussell63: 😨

-> mercedesamgf1: please give us our George back safe and sound 🥺

User33: Omggggggg Y/n looks so hapyyyyyy and they have a doggggg together!!!! my hearttttt

liked by User22 and 68,028 others

👤: f1

AllthingsF1: Trouble in paradise? Lando Norris and Luisinha Oliveira were seen engaged in a heated argument right before today's qualifying. This comes at a time when Norris has been going through a rough patch these past few races; from constant crashes to DNFs, Norris can't seem to catch a break. Is this off-track drama affecting his performance, or is this simply a coincidence? Some also believe that this could also be the result of Y/n L/n announcing her new relationship. Could this be the downfall for Lando Norris, on and off track?

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👤: landonorris, mclaren

F1Tea: Lando Norris is out of the race again! After yet another crash, the chances of Norris and McLaren doing well in the championship seem to be decreasing, race by race. Many fans blame Norris for getting distracted and not performing at his best. Some believe that this poor performance is the result of issues Norris has been facing in his personal life. After his breakup with Luisinha Oliveira, Norris has not been coping that well. Norris also seemed to like a few tweets (now unliked) about his relationship with Y/n L/n. Norris broke up with L/n a few months ago, after which the two have not been in contact. He also immediately got together with Oliveira after their breakup. It's about time that Norris gets out of this slump he's been going through if he wants to hold on to his Formula 1 dream.

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Y/n closed her phone when she heard the front door open, following which she heard a loud bark, and before she knew it, through came her little fur baby, ready to give her all the cuddles in the world. She looked up from her spot on the cough and saw Shawn enter the room holding up a bag of muffins. "Blueberry?" Y/n asked with a hint of excitement in her voice. "You know it! I saw it on my way back and knew how you were craving these. So I got a bunch of them," Shawn said as he kept the baked goods on the counter and made his way towards the couch. "What happened?" Shawn asked, noticing how Y/n looked a little distracted. "Nothing; I just got a text from Lando," Y/n said before looking back at Shawn. "Why? Did he say anything stupid? If so, let me know, because then he'll have to deal with me," Shawn said as he stroked Y/n's leg. "No, he just said he misses me. You know, if I hadn't met you and realized what being in an actual relationship is like, I actually would have gotten back with him," Y/n said as she petted their dog, who was exhausted and almost asleep after a morning run with his dad. "But I am glad that I found you. I have never felt more like myself than when I am with you. I just want to say that I love you so much and I love our little family," Y/n finished. Shawn quickly got up from his place and tackled Y/n. "I love you too. So much, you won't believe it, and I can't wait to expand our little family," Shawn said, smirking at Y/n before he started peppering her face with kisses. Laughter was the only sound that filled the L/n-Mendes household as they spent the rest of the afternoon talking and watching old movies.

Yourname added to their story!

🎶 I Like Me Better by Lauv 🎶

(I knew from the first time, I'd stay for a long time! I like be better when I'm with you 🩵)

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| shawnmendes replied to your story

-> 💙

Lando looked at Y/n's story, and all he felt was pain. Not only did he lose a person who truly loved him, he also lost one of his best friends. Being with Luisa was exciting; it made him feel young and full of life. The idea of settling down seemed so foreign back then that Lando couldn't have cared less about how his actions might have affected Y/n. He knew it was wrong to flirt with multiple women, even though he was in a committed relationship, but all of that felt like nonsense to him back then. But as he lay in bed, sad and alone, Lando realised just how much of an impact Y/n had on his life. He lost the girl, and now he's on the verge of losing his career as well. Lando felt a tear roll down his face. One became two, two became four, and before he knew it, he was full of tears. There was nothing Lando could do; he laid the bed with all his actions, and now he has to sleep in it. Tired of it all, Lando finally let sleep take over him, hoping that when he wakes up later, his heart will feel a little lighter.

[iris-qt]

𝟻 𝚍𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛

✧ ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

✧ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

✧ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ | 3.1ᴋ

✧ ᴀ/ɴ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ @girllblogging777 ꜰᴏʀ ᴀꜱᴋɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ'ꜱ ꜰᴀᴠ ᴀɴɢꜱᴛʏ ʙᴏʏ

✧ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴏ ʀɪᴅᴅʟᴇ ꜱᴛʀɪᴋᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴀ ʙᴇᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜɪꜱ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅꜱ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ɢɪᴠᴇꜱ ʜɪᴍ 5 ᴅᴀʏꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄᴏɴꜰᴇꜱꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʀʟ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍꜱ. ʜᴇ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ꜱᴇᴇᴍꜱ ᴛᴏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀʀᴜᴘᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ.

Day 0

If dying of embarrassment were a thing, Mattheo Riddle would be deceased.

“In Potions, I think I saw you actually drooling over her, mate.”

Enzo chuckles at Theodore’s quip, adding, “I knew it was bad, but not that bad.”

Mattheo groans, hiding his face in his hands as the three boys are sat around a table in the Slytherin common room, the flames of the fire dying out at the later hour, gentle rain tapping the low windows that offer an inky view of the Black Lake.

“She answered a question no one knew the answer to. You have to admit, that’s pretty impressive,” Mattheo says desperately, raising his head from the table, hoping for a glimpse of sympathy from his friends.

All it succeeds in doing, however, is inciting further fits of laughter from them.

“With friends like you guys, who needs enemies,” Mattheo lowly mutters, crossing his arms and glaring.

“No, but since when were you into smart girls, Riddle?” Enzo asks in between laughs.

Mattheo sighs, leaning back in his seat. He gazes over at his faint reflection in the low windows, lost in thought. The truth is, Lorenzo made a good point. Mattheo was always into girls that would give him their undying attention and a few nights of fun. Then, he’d move on. It was a mutual understanding between them. He’d never truly play with their emotions, but he’d make his intentions clear. 

Take it or leave it.

And usually they’d take it. 

But you were truly something else. A genius on the pitch and in the classroom. Academic and athletic weapon, not to mention your biting humor that always seemed to make his heart beat faster.

“Tell you what, Matt. Let us help you,” Theodore leans forward, traces of amusement still evident on his face.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow at Theodore’s offer, waiting for him to continue.

“I propose a deadline. You have 5 days to ask her out before the Hogsmeade trip on Saturday.”

Mattheo sighs, his gaze settling suspiciously on the smiling boys.

“And if I fail?”

“You buy us as many sweets from Honeydukes as we desire,” Enzo grins, “and you know how much I love candy..”

Mattheo stands up, choosing to create an air of confidence around him, although he’s panicking about the prospect of confessing to you. 

“You have yourself a deal, boys.”

Day 1

His plan to confess as soon as possible so as not to feel the desperation of losing time reached a roadblock as Mattheo woke up remembering he had a Quidditch game that morning.

Against your house. (sorry slytherin readers forgive me)

He didn’t want you to be in a bad mood from a loss, but he also didn’t want to seem like a loser in your eyes. He would never be one to lose purposefully, as he knew you’d loathe that, so Mattheo resolved to play fair.

The game progressed onwards as his house took the lead, but he had to admit he wasn’t much help despite his efforts. Seeing your hair flowing in the wind against the lush green hills, your determined face, your shining skin…it was distracting to say the least..

Suddenly, you loop upwards, narrowly avoiding a bludger that zooms past you and heads straight towards Mattheo.

He barely avoids it, the bludger chipping away part of his brand new broomstick.

“Shit..”

“Keep your head in the game, Riddle,” you smirk, flying up next to him.

“Hard when those bludgers are attempting to behead me,” he grins back. Talking to his favorite person was his new favorite hobby, even if you could be intending to insult him..

You ended up catching the snitch and winning your house this integral game, shooting your team to the House Cup Finals. You landed on the grass, smiling gleefully, your face glistening with triumph and sweat despite the quite chilly weather.

Mattheo landed on the ground next to you, grinning at your expression. He wholeheartedly thought you deserved this win. He’d seen you practicing at the crack of dawn and the fall of the moon. He knew how hard you worked as captain. He saw you on his morning walks, and from the towers of Hogwarts when he’d smoke over the rail, watching your figure shooting through the air in the velvet darkness.

Lost in the ecstasy of the atmosphere, Mattheo resolved to let his feelings be known right then and there. What greater chance for you to agree to a date when your spirits were raised so high?

He approached you, broom in hand, and you turned around to look at him with an ecstatic grin on your face; one he couldn’t resist to mirror.

“Good game, Riddle,” you stuck your hand out, slightly sympathetic for the boy’s loss despite his oddly bright expression.

“Good game, y/l/n. I actually wanted to ask you something..” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck. Despite the adrenaline pumping through his veins, nerves were slowly eating away at his windpipe, restricting him from choking out the words he’d desired to tell you.

But he had resolved to do it.

And Mattheo Riddle was many things, but not a coward.

You raised your eyebrow at him, waiting for him to speak further.

“I was wondering if you would go with-”

He was interrupted by your surprised yelp and laugh of joy as your teammates lifted you to their shoulders, yelling and cheering your name. 

You put your hands up in victory, the golden snitch still struggling in your grip.

“We’ll talk later, Mattheo!” you shout at him, waving your hands to get his attention. 

Not that you had to.

You had forever stolen his gaze.

Day 2

So, his original strategy had proved to be a failure. The whole of yesterday, your house wouldn’t leave you alone. When you took a quick trip to the hospital wing to patch up some quick little cuts, your housemates followed you, cheering. When you were walking through the halls, you were surrounded by at least 8 congratulating classmates. In the night, you were at the party celebrating your win. Always busy.

Mattheo never got the chance to just confess as soon as possible, but no matter. This was just day 2, and he still had plenty of time. He had put up with more of his friends’ teasing regarding his harbored crush, but he’d be willing to brave the storm of his friends’ jabs if it meant eventually seeing it die away when he finally had you by his side.

If you’d accept him that is..

He groaned as he walked through the busy halls of Hogwarts during a break period. 

Love was too hard.

He walked into the courtyard to find his friends, but his eyes immediately landed on you. You were quickly skimming a Potion’s textbook, no doubt studying for the sudden test that had been sprung on by Slughorn. He can’t imagine you had much time to study due to the match and celebrations. It was unlike you to look so harried and unprepared. 

He knew this couldn’t be the right time, but he had to test the waters. Perhaps you were still in a good mood?

What he didn’t know was that you’d always be happy to see him. Even if you were having a meltdown, you'd grin at the sight of him.

And that’s exactly what happened.

Mattheo walked up to you, smoothly sliding onto the stone bench beside you. He was immediately met with your smiling face as your attention was diverted from the book.

“Y/N unprepared for a test? Never thought I’d see the day,” he nudged your shoulder playfully with his own as you gave him a mock glare.

“I’m hoping I’ll suddenly procure a photographic memory and just capture the words on this textbook in my brain,” you say, putting the book super close to your eyes as you pretend to absorb all the knowledge.

Mattheo laughs, “I wish I could help but I’m not the best person to ask for, well, any school subjects, to be honest.”

You snickered as you regarded him, eyes alight. 

“Oh yeah, what was it you were trying to ask me on the pitch yesterday?”

Well, he couldn’t back down now.

“I was just wondering if you’d like-”

“Y/N!!!” your best friend comes running through the halls toward you, waving a bundle of parchment with hastily written words. “I just took the Potions test and this is what's on it.”

Your eyes widen in delight as you peer over at her parchment. Your attention being completely drawn away, Mattheo gets up with a sigh and stalks off toward his friends, feeling dejected.

He doesn’t notice the sorry glance you throw his way, upset that his words got interrupted once more.

Day 3

You couldn’t sleep that night and you awoke feeling puffy and down. It seemed as if Mattheo Riddle had been avoiding you the rest of yesterday and you knew it was because he had something to say to you but kept getting interrupted. 

Something important to tell you and something that made him nervous.

That couldn’t mean…

Of course not.

But you’ve had feelings for him for a long time, and the prospect that he could feel the same excited you. Perhaps you should cave first and confess because if that’s what the poor boy had been attempting, after being interrupted twice you doubted he had the guts to do it again. Besides, it’d be a weight lifted from your heart. 

You knew he took early morning walks as he’d often retell his experiences to you when you used to sit next to him in class:

“...and then this bigass bird took a fat shit on McLaggen’s head, and that's when I knew it was going to be a glorious day,” he finished proudly, smiling.

“Now, that’s a good omen if I’ve ever heard of one,” you grinned as you both indulged in quiet laughter, hidden at the back of the History of Magic Classroom.

Who knew such a dull class would quickly become your favorite.

He must’ve not taken a walk today because you couldn’t find him. 

Now, cruel fate had moved him as far away as possible in that classroom with no chance to sneak a quick conversation in. He seemed quite upset today in the one class you’d seen him in, keeping his head low and dozing off a few times. Twice you’d seen him steal a glance at you then look away abruptly.

You found him later that day, walking through the dark hallways after dinner. It was quiet and empty as the rest of the students had made their way to their common rooms or the library. He was looking down and was wiping something from his nose with the back of his hand. It looked like…

Blood.

“Riddle?” you called out softly, and his ebony eyes trained on you in a panic.

He had never intended for you to ever see him like this. Dejected and bleeding.

You stand there, hugging yourself amidst the chills of the vast, stone halls, clinging onto your sweater. 

“A fight?”

He nods, not being able to meet your eyes.

You gently grab his arm, beginning to pull him in the direction of the Hospital Wing. Maybe you could confess in there while he was getting patched up, although that may not be the best time for it. 

Perhaps now to lighten the mood of this awkward walk?

If he rejects you, at least teasing you about it would make him more cheerful.

“Hey, Mattheo…I just wanted to let you know that-”

Before you could get very far, however, a bloodied Gryffindor boy strides toward you guys, calling Riddle’s name in an icy tone. 

You both whirl around, and Riddle grits his teeth, upset to see the boy he had just fought with.

“You thought you could just escape?” the boy stops 7 feet away, balling up his fists

“You were out cold, so yeah, I assumed I could.”

“Rematch, Riddle.”

He looks back at you, something glistening in his eyes.

“Go, y/l/n.”

You cross your arms, narrowing your eyes, “You think I’m just gonna leave you here, bleeding?”

“Go.”

You realize there’s no stopping this fight and, frankly, you didn’t want to see Mattheo beating someone up. You walk straight to the nearest professor’s quarters and alert them of the fight, framing it so it sounds like Mattheo was ambushed and simply fought back as self-defense. After doing so, you slip into your room, lying awake, hoping he’s ok.

Day 4

Mattheo was cutting it close, but this week had been a doozy. He hoped today would be an ordinary day in which he could finally, peacefully confess his vibrant feelings for you.

That morning, Mattheo finds you in the library next to a stack of mythology books. He walks up, a smile already forming on his face at the familiar sight of your gorgeous, focused face.

“I wasn’t aware there was a Mythology class at Hogwarts,” he smiles, leaning against your table. His face was covered in cuts and bruises while his nose seemed haphazardly bandaged.

You look up at him disapprovingly, eyes tracing his injuries.

“It's called reading for fun, Mattheo. You should try it sometimes.”

“No, thank you.”

You shot him a sardonic smile, leaning back in your chair.

“Listen, y/n, I wanted to thank you for shifting the blame off of me for the fight but-”

“No problem, I had to do something,” you shrug.

“But…I could’ve handled it myself. You tainted my reputation and it made me seem like I’m weak and scared of authority.”

You raise an eyebrow, a look of disbelief blossoming on your face.

“You’re seriously annoyed with me for helping you NOT get in trouble?” you stand up from your seat staring him in the eye. “Your stupid pride and reputation is worth more than that?”

He furrows his brows, perplexed by your reaction.

“You wouldn’t understand,” he sighs. “My reputation is all I have” is what he meant to share, but vulnerability was not his strong point.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t,” you stand up, grabbing your books, and walk out, not looking back once.

Mattheo watches you go, feeling as if whatever grip he had on you had lessened. He could feel you falling through his fingers.

Day 5 ₊˚ෆ

Mattheo would’ve accepted his defeat if this was any other bet. Confessing to y/n was a harder task than it seemed. 

The thing is, this wasn’t any other bet, and Mattheo Riddle was as adamant as ever to let you know how he felt about you. Being in your presence was a hot bowl of soup on a sick day. It was a warm glass of spiced butterbeer after playing in the snow. It was a blanket after being warmed by the fire. It was a comfort he never allowed himself to indulge in.

He wanted it in a stronger dose. He needed the comfort of a relationship with you. And today, he intended to get it. 

He awoke early as usual since he couldn’t sleep past six: his thoughts always woke him up far too early. Getting dressed and heading outside, he sees you reading your mythology books under a big oak tree, bundled up in a deep grey trench coat. As he approached with his silent steps and hands in his pockets, he realized it was Norse mythology today. Despite him acting clueless, he also enjoyed reading myths for fun.

He stopped a few feet away from you and you looked up unsurprisingly, as if you knew he was approaching the entire time. With a quick glance at the empty spot next to you, you signal Mattheo to join you in the misty morning air. You couldn’t help but feel as if this replicated the foggy morning scene in one of your favorite movies, Pride and Prejudice.

He settled next to you, shoulders touching.

“I hope a bigass bird shits on your head,” you murmur in a playful tone, recalling his tale, looking at him with a fake gleam of scorn in your eyes. Not entirely fake as you were quite annoyed about yesterday night in the library.

He laughs at that, tilting his head to look at you in all your morning glory.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” he whispers, looking at you with utter adoration, although you don’t characterize it as such. “I just…I feel as if my reputation is all I have.”

He looks away at that, across the grounds, embarrassed to admit anything so close to his heart.

You nod understandingly, touching his pinky with your own.

“We’re cool, Riddle.”

He takes a deep breath and keeps barreling on, ready to confess to you and pour out his heart. 

“Listen, y/n. I kept getting interrupted but I-”

“RIDDLE!” Draco is making his way towards them, looking frantic. You and Mattheo both stand up, looking concerned at his expression. He wears cloak with the hood up and looks panicked, striding towards them in a half run until he is standing before them, panting.

“What happened, what's wrong?” Mattheo urges, shaking Draco’s shoulders.

Draco yanks off his hood to reveal his baby pink hair and you and Mattheo stare at him for a moment.

And then burst out laughing.

“Do you know who did this?” Draco is fuming, balling his fists as he glares at the both of you.

“No, mate, but you have yourself a nemesis,” Mattheo says, gasping for breath. Draco grabs his arm beginning to pull him away, muttering something about helping him get revenge. You’re not letting Mattheo get away again, so you grab his other arm, engaging in a game of tug-of-war. Mattheo shakes off Draco and shoos him off with a wave of his hand and a small glare as Draco gives in and walks away, sulking.

“Where were we?”

“You were on a vulnerability rampage,” you smirk, releasing your grip much to his displeasure.

He smiles shyly as he looks off into the distance, finding your gaze a burning sensation. 

“I really, really like you, y/n. And I’ve been trying to let you know for a while now.

You smile as you angle your neck to force Mattheo to look into your eyes. 

Oh, how you loved his ebony doe eyes.

“Well, it’s a good thing I really like you too, Mattheo.”

And Mattheo Riddle grinned as he finally had the girl of his dreams, and they both engaged in an all-out rampage of Honeydukes, paid for by Lorenzo and Theodore, of course.

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 6)

Masterpost

The Wayne family gathered in the family room once Alfred was done setting up the projector, somehow there was also a plate of cookies and a couple pots of tea on the coffee table. How he’d found the time they didn’t know, he always seemed to be doing just a little more than should be possible but they didn’t question it. 

Jazz seemed nervous as she plugged in her USB and accessed the power point on Ghosts and Liminality. The tidal page had a picture of Danny in his Phantom form standing with a group of others, a boy with gray skin and blond hair, a girl with green hair and skin, and a goth with purple eyes and a dark skinned boy who looked around Danny’s age, and Jazz with the title “Ghosts and Liminals!” 

The next slide had simple text: “What are they and How are they made?”

With each slide she read the text on the screen allowed and then added any context or anecdotes she thought of, or had prepared. 

(Next slide)

Ghosts:

Made of ectoplasmic energy and obsession

Made either:

when someone dies with strong enough desires

An idea gains enough traction to take on a life of its own

Immutable concepts and gods

Must be allowed to indulge in obsessions or they will cease to exist

All have basic abilities such as flight, intangibility, invisibility, and minor shape shifting

On top of basic abilities most will have additional powers based on their obsessions

Immortal unless killed 

Love to fight

Liminals

Made when a human is exposed to high levels of ectoplasm for prolonged periods of time

Have some ghostly traits 

Ghostly traits vary person to person

Less susceptible to human illness and injury

“The ghosts on the picture are Kitty and Johnny, we’ve had problems with them but would consider them friends now. They’re the ghosts of two humans who died, but there are others, Vortext for instance is the ghost of Storms. Those ghosts who come from ideas are called ‘neverborns’. There seem to be almost an infinite number of ghosts, however not all of them are interested in having anything to do with us so we tend to get the same faces showing up a lot in Amity.

“I don’t know how many liminals there are. I thought they might be new with my parents' research but as I look into it more I think there are more natural sources of ectoplasm then my parents thought.” Jazz explained before going to transition to the next slide.

“I have a question-” Bruce started before Jazz hushed him. 

“Wait till the end please! I might answer it without you having to ask,” She scolded, and he felt very much like a schoolboy again as his children snickered.

(Next slide including a image of the glowing green viles in the Fenton’s lab and a glowing green crystal)

Ghost biology 

Ghosts do not have any recognizable organs or bones

The only solid part of their being is their Core which is the source of their ectoplasm 

Any injury to a ghosts form not done directly to their core is considered minor and will heal

A healthy ghost is fully capable of mending any damage including removed limbs in a matter of hours or days depending on extent of the injury

All injuries not including the Core are considered minor 

Ghosts are considered young for at least the first hundred years of their existence and are often not considered adults until nearly 500

A caveat to this is ghosts are heavily driven by emotion and will often be the age they feel they are allowing ghosts to mature much more quickly, or more slowly

When this is the case ghosts are treated as the age they present and behave

Ghosts reproduce by shaping ectoplasm and Wanting a child badly enough

“Believe me it was incredibly scary the first time I saw Danny in his ghost form have something go right through his stomach. It took him a long time to convince me it wasn’t a big deal and it barely hurt. He does have to make sure he repairs the damage Before turning human again though or the damage can transfer over and I don’t need to tell you a hole in the gut is a lot more serious for humans!

“If I’m honest I only know ghosts that have stayed younger then they really are, for instance Youngblood who’s a few hundred years old and could be well on his way to adulthood if he wanted but has remained a child. I assume it can go the other way though, if a ghost is very mature for their age.”

Ectoplasm 

Ectoplasm is the energy that makes up all ghosts and the Ghost Zone itself. All ghosts can feed on the ectoplasm around them as well as produce their own by indulging in obsessions. The ghosts Cores produce the ectoplasm like a brain produces neurochemicals when exposed to the right stimulation.

Ectoplasm is a powerful source of energy but unstable. When it is stabilized into an ecto-crystal it is more stable and can be used as a power source safely by ghosts and liminals.

“Most ectoplasm is green like you see in the pictures. But it isn’t the only colour, some other ghosts produce different colours and it is highly tied to what emotion drives them. When it’s pure it usually smells like petracore but it can get pretty foul.”

(next slide)

What are Obsessions

Every ghost has one or more obsessions

They can be very literal things such as boxes, or ideas and emotions such as Love

In rarer cases they may have dual obsessions

Unlike for humans obsessions are very healthy for ghosts

Ghosts need to indulge their obsessions

Sometimes the way ghosts indulge their obsessions might seem evil, however it is almost always just amoral 

Obsessions shape every part of a ghost from their powers to thier physical appearance, to befriend a ghost you Must understand and aid their obsession

In very extreme circumstances a ghosts obsession may shift, sometimes this is healthy, more often it is a result of extreme trauma

“With my interest in psychology this was sort of hard for me to accept. From the outside the way ghosts obsess seems really unhealthy but it’s what gives them life. When not allowed to indulge in their obsessions ghosts will dysregulate and go to extreme lengths to try and get their obsession, if that doesn’t work they either go dormant if their core is still healthy enough or they will melt. 

“Ghosts change their obsessions very rarely, I’ve heard of it happening as they heal. For instance once a ghost has gotten revenge for themselves, if that was their obsession, their obsession might shift to avenging other people, or even protecting them so they don’t need to be avenged.”

(Next Slide)

Ghost Culture

The Ghosts have a monarchy

The title of the Ghost King is not hereditary but passed through trial by combat

Under the monarch is a council of being known as Observants, and powerful and old ghosts called Ancients 

Ghosts respect strength and value power and cunning in combat a lot

Ghosts bond with each other through combat and play fight with family and friends often

“I have down that the ghosts are a monarchy, and technically that is true but the current Ghost King was a tyrant who was locked away thousands of years ago. I’m sure as soon as someone shows up who’s powerful enough to beat him his court will be happy to pick up where they left off with a better King, or queen, though I don’t think the title has to change based on gender.

“I really can’t stress enough how violent ghosts are! Because nothing short of having their cores shattered can kill them, play fighting for them can look Very Much like a murder attempt to a human. A lot of the issues we’ve had with ghosts have come from them just not understanding quite how fragile humans, and for most of them they feel really bad once they know they actually Hurt someone by shooting them. It’s really best for everyone when they’re kept separate and Ghosts can happily tear each other apart in peace.”

Liminals

The result of long term low level exposure to ectoplasm, sudden high doses are almost always deadly

Liminals Can have almost every trait a ghost can, usually having a combination of a few

Commonalities between liminals include

Minor cosmetic changes such as: glowing eyes, pointed ears, and/or sharp teeth 

Increased stamina, strength, and aggression

Increased obsessive behaviour

Liminals sometimes develop powers shaped by the strength and type of obsession 

“Most of the people Danny and I know are liminals. I don’t want to talk about them in case they don’t want to be outed so I’ll talk about myself and my parents. We all had prolonged exposure after all. My ears are pointed,” She said brushing her hair back so they could see them, “And Danny is a little more then liminal but even in human form he has fangs. 

“My parents didn’t realize it but they could to the point they could subsist on their obsession without needing to eat or sleep as often as a regular human would. About a year ago I started developing the ability to tap into and feel other peoples emotions, I can feed on them a little too but I try not to because the Worst ghost we met did that and I don’t want to be anything like her.”

(Next Slide)

In conclusion

Ghosts are not evil even though sometimes their actions are hard to understand

Never get between ghosts when they’re fighting each other but it’s usually safe to yell at them to remind them not to break anything

Never get between a ghost and their obsession

Don’t drink ectoplasm unless you know you’re already liminal

“I have a feeling the section about liminals will be familiar to a bunch of you. I know Damian is liminal though I don’t know how he was exposed to ectoplasm and some of you,” Her eyes skirted across Tim and Bruce. “Are toeing the line. You’ll probably notice Damian and Danny getting really close, and they might get in some really vicious looking fights. I promise Danny is playing at least.”

The family was left silent for a moment, Bruce knew he was thinking about Jason. Who had died, been exposed to.. What certainly seemed to be something like Lazarus water and come back, obsessive, aggressive, and emotional. He wished he’d had this powerpoint a long time ago. It helped understand Damian too but mostly he was thinking about Jason. He needed to reach out again, maybe meeting Danny would be good for Jason?

“So uhhh, ya, that’s the end of the powerpoint?” Jazz said, shifting from foot to foot in the awkward silence. “Any questions?”

Next

[lqfiles]

PAY THE PRICE — 42. putting your satisfaction first

(wc: 2.820.. yeah.. have fun..)

donghyuck stood in front of your door for what felt like eternity, fist tightly held next to his body, contemplating his actions. hesitance had overtaken him again, and he was stood questioning the purpose of this trip in the first place. what was he even going to ask you? why did his mind seek after answers from you to questions he himself didn’t even know yet? haechan wasn’t all too sure about the answers to those inquiries himself, all he knew was that his heart was racing at a pace that felt abnormal, and you had no clue.

“just ask her if.. this is so stupid.” donghyuck groaned under his breath, feet shuffling backwards for a moment. gnawing at the inside of his lips, donghyuck took the hesitant step back forward before pushing through and lifting his hand up in a swift motion, knocking a few times before retracting his hand. his heart continued to race as he awaited any sort of commotion from inside your apartment.

you hadn’t expected the somewhat urgent knocks on your door. it caught your attention, multiple scenarios coursing through your head as you reluctantly made your way to the door. there were plenty of people you had expected at your front door, though none of them were donghyuck for whatever reason. it took you by surprise, the shock evident on your face as you locked eyes with donghyuck who seemed just as surprised to see you.

before donghyuck could mutter any words out, you closed the door. you couldn’t deal with this, at least not now. seeing his face had brought a turmoil upon you, the many emotions and realisations you had experienced over the past few days feeling much more raw and real. you don’t think you could bear to see donghyuck, not now. you closed the door, or you tried to.

donghyuck’s foot got caught in between the door, preventing you from closing it in his face. he winced a little, and the force at which you closed the door faltered for a moment which was enough for him to pull it open again. “can i come inside?” the words left his mouth the moment you two faced each other again. “um..” you gaped, unable to answer his request.

“it will be quick, i swear.” donghyuck added, lightly pulling the door open again. you held onto the handle yourself, contemplating whether to push it back close or not. but curiosity got the best of you and you slowly stepped aside, allowing donghyuck access to your place. his face morphed into an expression of surprise, not expecting you to let him in.

he stepped into your apartment, taking a look around while you carefully eyed his every step. “what do you want?” your words came out harsher than you intended for them to be and donghyuck picked up on the sudden hostility, turning around with his hands in the pockets of the hoodie he wore. “can we sit down somewhere?” donghyuck requested, taking steps towards the sofa in your living room. “you said it was quick.. stop wasting my time donghyuck.” you retorted, and this time your words were meant to be harsh. despite your clear annoyance, donghyuck remained seemingly calm as he seated himself on your sofa and stared up at you, waiting for you.

reluctantly, you sat yourself down next to him, not sparing him a single glance and instead choosing to stare ahead, even when you felt his eyes burning holes into your skull. donghyuck sighed, deciding to copy your antics and stare ahead too. “you’re ignoring me on purpose, aren’t you?” he asked through the silence, and despite hearing him loud and clearly, you remained silent, not wanting to answer the dreadful question.

your silence was enough of an answer though, and donghyuck sighed once again. “what have i done this time?” he questioned, voice faltering to a smaller mutter that almost seemed to be addressing himself rather than you. ���don’t worry.” you answered after a minute of silence.

“but i do, because you’re ignoring me.” donghyuck groaned, turning his head to face you for a moment. “that’s not even why i’m here.” his head turned to face you again, though this time it remained there for an uncomfortably long time and it didn’t take you long to realise he wasn’t planning on looking away. “yeah? what was it you wanted to talk about that was so quick?” you reminded him, refusing to meet his gaze that was starting to feel intense.

“we need to talk about us.” you’re sure he must’ve noticed the way your eyes widened. “what are you talking about?” you subconsciously shuffled your body away from his, pushing yourself into the corner of your sofa. donghyuck slightly frowned before a soft exhale left his lips. “i’m talking about this weird tension that has been going on between us.” he corrected himself, thought the correction did nothing to soothe your tense body.

“what do you mean.” you mumbled loud enough for him to hear. “i know you’ve noticed it too.. i just…” your hands started to tingle from the sudden confrontation of everything you had been avoiding for the past days. was the universe punishing for something you did? was this your karma for fooling with donghyuck in the first place? “i just wanna know if that tension means anything to you.” it wasn’t the route you expected him to go with his sentence, and your eyes gravitated towards his, wanting to see the expression he carried. was this perhaps a joke?

he wore a look of doubt and slight unease as he finished his words. truthfully, you couldn’t tell his intentions. “i.. don’t feel a tension, but does this tension mean anything to you?” you resorted to playing coy, unsure of what your true answer might lead to. “i don’t know.” he sighed again with a rub to his face. “so why are you here?” you asked, the emptiness in your stomach not having subdued while your fingers drummed against your leg, a sign of the unease you were experiencing.

donghyuck noticed your uncomfortable fidgeting. “just relax, i’m not gonna do anything. i just needed to talk” he reassured with a soft voice, and for whatever reason, your body seemed to calm a little. “about what?” you hummed back in response, and it almost seemed like donghyuck didn’t know the answer himself as he silently pondered. “you know how i’m.. like scared of commitment, right?” he started off, and whatever dread had left you from his words, returned at the new set of words he spoke out.

“yeah, i’m aware.” you responded shortly, hoping he’d leave it at that. “are you scared of commitment?” donghyuck asked with his voice nothing but soft and almost fragile. it was as if he knew it was a risky question to ask. you huffed through your nose, once again contemplating your words for the night.

“instead of being scared, i just never thought i’d be able to commit to someone.” you admitted, the deep breaths you took helping you ease into your sofa, and for a moment you forgot that donghyuck was even there. “i understand that.” he assured you, and the response left you with a weird warmth. “you sound like you’re not anymore?”

“i still am.” haechan revealed. “i’m very scared that whoever i like won’t like me for who i really am” he added on, and you couldn’t help but frown as you continued to look ahead. “you know.. i’m scared of disappointing them by not being what they expected me to be. that they’ll be disappointed they’re dating donghyuck instead of haechan, you know?” his voice was a mere whisper, scared that if he got any louder he’d become too emotional.

and you screw yourself for being so emotional, let alone emphatic because you sighed, finally deciding to turn his way. you tried to meet his gaze that had lifted up once seeing your head turn, but couldn’t keep the eye contact, because you’re sure your emotions would’ve lead you to different scenarios if you stared into his eyes.

“in my opinion, donghyuck and haechan.. both of them, bring different attributes to the table and i think someone would be weird to not be intrigued by both.” you looked down at your lap as you spoke, attempting to make your words come out confidently. “also, it shouldn’t matter who they think they’re dating because at the end of the day, haechan is donghyuck and donghyuck is haechan.” you added on after a moment of silence. the silence that followed made you grow tenser, and you wondered why he hadn’t uttered a word yet.

you were starting to regret your words. hell. you regretted letting him into your apartment in the first place. over time, the smell of his shampoo had reached your nose, drowning you in the familiar sweet vanilla scent that you had grown attached to. it heightened all your emotions and reminded you of the predicament you were currently in. you liked donghyuck, and you felt like the worst person ever.

“that really means a lot, (—). thank you.” his voice broke the internal battle you were stuck in. your head snapped up, and you had only taken notice now of the fact he had shuffled closer towards you, essentially closing you into the corner of your sofa. “even though you said you can’t commit to one person, i’m sure whoever you will end up with, will be lucky to have someone like you.” he carried a fond smile, and you’re convinced you’ve seen that look before.

you wish he didn’t look at you the way he did right now, because it made the internal conflict of yours much worse as you realised you could almost mistake the look on his face of one you’d assume to be of love. or maybe, you just hoped that the way donghyuck looked at you was what a loving gaze felt like. his words hit much closer this time as you came to the devastating realisation that you wanted donghyuck to be the one lucky to have you.

“your hair has started to grow.” you changed the topic, afraid of what your mouth might have said regarding his thoughts. “it suits you.” your words were sincere as your eyes zoned in on his hair that had reached up to the nape of his neck. “might keep it for longer then.” he chuckled, lightly ruffling it and you lazily rolled your eyes. “i think black hair would look nice on you.” you suggested, hand shooting out to touch his hair too before you came back to your senses, yanking your hand back.

“i’ll keep that into consideration.” donghyuck’s gaze followed the hand that had reached up, focus remaining for some time. you cleared your throat, catching his attention as his head snapped up “you should probably leave.. it’s getting late.” you advised him. realisation dawned upon him before he rubbing the back of his neck in awkwardness. “oh, yeah, my bad.” he apologised before standing up and stretching his arms. you had to avert your eyes as his hoodie rode up for a split moment, revealing the tiniest bit of his skin.

with your head held low from the sudden embarrassment, you followed him to the door for whatever reason. a part of you couldn’t wait for him to leave so you could breathe normally again, while another part, the one too fond of him, wanted to keep him here for longer, just enjoying the time you had before your moral conscience kicked in and realised how wrong this was.

your hand reached up for the door handle, ready to open it but donghyuck’s own hand clasped over the wrist of your free hand, slightly tugging you back to gain your attention. you tilted your head back, awaiting his next action. “this might be weird for me to say.. but i seriously hope that no matter what happens between us, you won’t drop me out your life.”

you felt sick. you felt like you were getting punished. you felt your body warm up and your stomach swirl with a warmth. it was all unfair to you, the way he could casually say stuff like this with no worry about anything while your moral conscience battled to justify these small moments. you swallowed the lump in your throat, body melting into his touch on its own. “that’s so.. why?” you questioned. why would he put you through these dilemmas?

“i guess i enjoy your presence too much for you to drop me.” donghyuck wore a soft yet shy smile on his face as he himself couldn’t look you in the eye. you internally cooed at the sight, having to withhold yourself from wrapping your arms around him in affection. “as long as you’re nice to me, i’ll keep you around.” you decided that was the best way to convey your thoughts, and donghyuck seemed more than satisfied with your answer as a grin found its way to his lips and he looked you in the eyes. “that’s a deal.”

there was a strange glint in his eyes, one that almost resembled desire, and you were suddenly brought back to the night he was drunk. when he wanted to kiss you. “i really have the biggest urge to kiss you right now.” you’re sure those weren’t his exact words and you frowned your eye brows in thought as you tried to remember it. perhaps you were a little stupid, because it hadn’t dawned on you that the words had just left donghyuck until you looked back at him and he awaited an answer.

you were fucked, you were a bad friend, and you wanted to kiss donghyuck. it was wrong, everything about this was wrong, being so close to him felt wrong and letting him be vulnerable felt wrong. but you felt selfish, and your selfish thoughts encouraged you to put your own satisfactions first. donghyuck was ready to take a step back and apologise for his thoughts, but instead he got shut up with the impact at which you leaned forward with, kissing him.

it took donghyuck a few seconds to reciprocate, but his hand quickly found your jaw while his other hand reached for the side of your body, slotting itself there. the desire displayed in his eyes previously, showed through the eagerness at which he kissed you, tilting his head as his thumb caressed your jaw. your own hands found a place around his shoulders as you pulled him closer. you’re not sure when your back reached your door, but you couldn’t care much as your thoughts were occupied with nothing but donghyuck.

the way he kissed felt almost personal, as if his intentions weren’t based on a sudden lust, but instead a message. it made your heart ache, because while you kissed donghyuck, it felt like nothing but a bittersweet reminder that something closely in your reach wasn’t attainable to you.

on the contrary, donghyuck kissed you with the uncertainty about what the kiss meant and what it meant to you.

there was a lust that neither of you wanted to voice loudly, scared of the outcome and after 2 minutes, your moral conscience kicked in. you pushed donghyuck off you with a struggle and you hated the way he continued to chase after you, lips coming in contact with the sides of yours as you dodged him. “haechan, you need to leave.” you were out of breath and felt embarrassed about it. you hadn’t even noticed the warmth you emitted until now, or the way donghyuck was breathing just as heavily as you.

“we’re back to calling me haechan again?” he tried to chuckle through his breathing. “you should go.” you repeated, hand reaching behind you to grab ahold of the handle before opening it. you could feel your pulse in your throat, a suffocating feeling that was making you choke on the guilt you couldn’t swallow. you’re glad that donghyuck left on his own as your trembling hands couldn’t bear coming in contact with him again.

“are you going to ignore me after this again?” the question stung a lot. it stung because you felt horrible that it was his immediate conclusion. it stung because it was exactly what you were planning on doing. it stung, because donghyuck could never understand how much the aftermath of this was going to mess with you.

“are you going to pretend like this means nothing to you again?” you asked in the heat of the moment, body tensing up. your head was held low, and you realised how hard it had been to even make eye contact with him ever since he arrived. the realisation ached your heart again, it was a realisation that you’d never return to how it used to be.

donghyuck didn’t have the chance to utter a response out or even question you, because you had closed the door in his face, leaving you both with a confused, yet warm feeling.

previous — master list — next

notes ; gonna let this one marinate for 2 weeks and be back bye y’all 😅🫰🏽❤️ also sorry if there are any spelling errors i proofread this ones and said that will be enough..

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[notsopersonalcharlie]

Touch Me, Belle

Biker!Bucky Barnes x afab!reader SMUT

Warnings: MNDI 18+, alcohol, dom!bucky, daddy kink, choking, bondage (handcuffs), oral (m and f receiving), mentions of thigh riding

More Biker!Bucky content here

Notes: Potentially the filthiest thing i've written for public consumption. I am on a writing rampage right now. Biker!Bucky is fueling something in me.

You stared down at the shining ring on your finger. You had done it about a hundred times in the last two hours. All of your friends were at the bar, along with the entire staff of the bar and garage, and all your favorite regulars. Sam made a drink called the "Engagement Gimlet" and you were nearing too drunk too stand. Maybe it was just the mass of muscles that had barely left your side all night and you hadn't had to use your own strength since he asked you to marry him. Maybe you never had since you met him.

"You like it?" Bucky's arm was wrapped around your middle, his tattooed arm in contrast to your white button down. You looked over your shoulder at him. His pink lips were wet with beer from his last sip and you kissed him. You couldn't help it, he looked good enough to eat.

"I love it. I love you," you whispered as you pulled away. His eyes were slow to open as he took a deep breath, the feeling of his chest inhaling and exhaling pressed to your back. The lights in the Howling Commando were adding a delightful neon tinge to the already firework-inducing night.

"I love you too, belle." When his eyes opened all the way they were dark with want, and you bit your bottom lip to stop the string of words you almost used to beg him to leave right now. It was your own engagement party. You couldn't bail early.

"You ready to go soon?" he asked, already finishing his drink, the pint glass small in his big hands. You were fixated on his arms and you had to blink and take a deep breath before nodding.

"Words, honey." His intent eyes on you and the rumble in his voice sent heat right down to your core.

"Yeah, ready to go."

"Finish your drink." You did without question. He had put on the tone he always did at the end of the night. The kind that said, do as I say and you'll get exactly what you want. You already had everything you wanted, and you still wanted more, but Bucky was intoxicating. His bright blue eyes steered you through the bar as you finished, saying goodbye and letting you throw yourself into hugs without taking too long.

The cool air of the late night felt amazing on your skin after being in the bar all evening. It also accentuated the incredible heat between your legs.

"-and congrats again and many times over!" Steve called as the door shut behind Bucky. Your car was parked right next to his bike, but they could stay there overnight. You stood staring up at the full moon and Bucky's hands came over your shoulders, thumbs rubbing at your neck. The little groan of relief you let out sent him into motion, his arm coming around your shoulders, steering you to the right down the sidewalk towards home. The walk was silent, tension building in the quiet air, occasionally intercepted by a plane overhead.

Bucky unlocked the front door, and quickly turned, making a wait motion as he went into the house. You sat down on the cushioned bench you had placed under a trellis across from the front door so you could read outside on the weekends. Read and watch Bucky workout shirtless in the makeshift gym he had built in the second spot in the garage. Your tiny car and his motorcycle took up the other half normally.

You looked down at the diamond sparkling in the moonlight and suddenly felt overwhelmed by emotion. You had spent years in an abusive relationship thinking that all you ever wanted was that man, his attention. You spent those years thinking being in love was supposed to be hard, supposed to be sacrifice on the way your house looked, what you did every night, the restaurants you went to, and the friends you kept.

Now you were sitting in the flower filled garden of a cottage you had decorated, sitting on a bench waiting for what you imagined would be an exceptionally sweet surprise from a man who would crawl on his knees after you if he had to. And you didn't even have to feel guilty that he had done all of this and you hadn't done anything in return.

"You okay honey?" Bucky's quiet panic brought your teary eyes to him.

"Yeah." Your nose twitched and you looked down, taking a deep breath before standing up from the bench and looking back at him, more tears rolling down your cheeks.

"I love you so much." Bucky laughed, wrapping one arm around you and the other coming up to wipe away your tears.

"I love you too. I can't wait to spend my whole life with you." His voice was quiet and conspiratorial, but you knew his love for you was anything but a secret.

"This might be the best day of my life, James Barnes." He beamed, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. He still tasted like beer.

"I think I might be able to make it just a little better." The sweet voice was gone, the conspiratorial whisper had turned to a rumbling dark promise. You didn't respond, just took his hand and let him lead you into the house. Battery powered candles were turned on down the hallway, leading you toward the bedroom. More candles were set up there, bathing you both in warm yellow light. In a contrast that only Bucky living in this floral and pink home could be a party to, on the bed were white and purple flower petals and amongst them black handcuffs.

"Making it better?" Bucky asked from behind you, his hands traversing your torso, grazing across your breasts and up to your throat. One hand wrapped lightly around your neck, directing your chin to one side as he pressed hot open mouth kisses to your skin. The other was already at unbuttoning your work slacks.

"Absolutely," you breathed, eyes closing as your head fell back against his shoulder.

"You know, honey," he muttered, his hands moving to unbutton your shirt. You hummed for him to continue, pressing your hips back into his as you slipped the slacks over your thighs and kicked them off.

"I knew the first moment I fucked you that I would have to do it for the rest of my life." Your skin flared ever hotter. The first night you fucked had been loud and messy and drunker than tonight. You had given into every urge you had ignored for years, and Bucky's hand pressed to your throat, the way his tattooed skin looked next to yours when he forced you to watch him fuck you in the mirror, it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to you to that day. And then you got it whenever you wanted it.

"And now I can." Bucky rid you of your bra, his mouth running wet kisses across your shoulders and neck before settling you on your knees amongst the flower petals. He was fully dressed still, but he smirked at you before cuffing your hands in front of you.

"You don't get to lift a single finger tonight." You opened your mouth to rebuttal that you never had to, but his sharp look stilled your tongue.

"If you start running your mouth, belle, I will absolutely blindfold you before I take my clothes off. And I know how much you love to watch me." Bucky had been anything but comfortable in his skin before he met you. Tattoos were to cover extensive scarring on his left arm and the rest had been to make it less obvious. The first time he had noticed you drooling over him, he had felt self conscious. You had fucked that right out of him the same way he did to you.

You nodded in understanding.

"Words, honey."

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl." You watched hungrily as Bucky shucked the leather jacket off, exposing his tattooed arms under a brown shirt which was also quickly removed. You couldn't help but press your thighs together as you watched his muscles move, taking off his black jeans down to just dark boxers that hugged his massive thighs. The one time you mentioned how hot you found his legs, Bucky made you straddle one thigh, over a tattoo you particularly loved, and watched you ride it till you came, one hand lazily on your hip. Now you couldn't look at the tattoo without thinking of that moment. And Bucky knew it.

"Still thinking of that moment, huh baby?" Your eyes snapped up to meet his.

"Maybe I'll make you do it again today." You licked your lips, pressing your thighs together harder. He stepped closer to you, till he was looking down at you, hair falling over his forehead into his eyes. He looked dangerous, the hunger in his eyes would have been terrifying if he wasn't all yours. Two fingers under your chin to force your eyes to meet his. You didn't even notice your mouth had fallen open till his tongue slipped against the tip of your tongue.

"You're the hottest thing I've ever seen." His finger pressed to your lips were quickly replaced by his own mouth, tongue invading your mouth as he forced you backward on the bed, nearly tipping you over, but his hand snaked around your waist to keep you upright.

Bucky's knee slipped between your legs and as soon as your covered cunt came into contact with his leg, you moaned into his mouth, unable to stop your hips from rocking against him. One strong arm stopped your movements.

"Uh uh, honey, I intend to devour you entirely before you have to do any work at all." Your cuffed hands were resting on his chest, and he gently slipped his head between them so you could lean up and kiss him as he laid you back on the bed. His weight was all encompassing and put you in a trance as his hands roamed your body and his tongue mapped every inch of your mouth.

He rubbed the heel of his hand against your still clothed core, and you whined, holding yourself from moving your hips again.

"Learning already, belle. So smart." You shivered at the praise, head falling back against the sheets as Bucky's kisses moved down your neck and sternum, leaving marks across your skin till he got to the lacy thong that stood between him and what he really wanted. He made quick work, so quick that they were still wrapped around your left ankle when he got his mouth to your clit.

"Fuck, Bucky I-" His first finger was entirely a surprise, and it was quickly followed by a second. Your first orgasm rolled up just as surprisingly, the slight crook of his fingers and the expertise of his tongue sending you over the edge. You screamed out his name, bucking into his face as he finger fucked you through the end.

"That quick, honey? You must have been aching for me at the bar huh?" You looked down at Bucky, his hair a mess from your hands running through where they could reach and the bottom of his face soaked in you. His wet fingers rested against your thigh and the other hand pushed your cuffed wrists away.

"Always, daddy. Always." Bucky pressed little kisses to your thighs before pushing up to his knees so he could grab your wrists, pulling you up toward the headboard by them and leaving you to push with your legs. Flower petals stuck to your skin as he working the cuffs. You were entirely vulnerable to any onslaught he came at you with. But not entirely unable to retaliate.

As he unclipped the cuffs, you leaned forward and nuzzled against his covered cock where it strained inside his boxers. His abs rolled above your head as he pushed his hips back and you redirected your tongue through the tattoos there, lapping up the light sweat he had already began.

"You're a fucking menace," he huffed, finally getting the clips together behind the headboard and moving back away from you where you could no longer move to him.

"Only for you."

"Oh you will learn to be less of a menace." He sat back, and you looked at the artwork across his chest and mingling with the hair on its way down into his boxers. You were going to be marrying a work of art as much as the hottest man you'd ever seen.

"You only have the rest of our lives to teach me." Bucky was back between your legs right away, fingers and tongue alternating to bring you through another orgasm and close to a third. You whined when he pulled away, grinding against nothing.

"Have you learned your lesson, menace? Or should I keep going till you can't anymore and come all of your tits?" He shot back, slipping his boxers off. Your mouth watered at the sight of his cock, the scrawled artwork and hair that accentuated the way down. Your moan sounded more like a plea.

"I learned my lesson, daddy, please fuck me." He pretended to think about it as he leaned over to where he had left the condoms. He had flower petals stuck to his chest and thighs.

"Daddy, please I want your cock in my mouth." He stopped mid-action, staring at you already near fucked out, hands above your head. The ring he had placed on your finger a few hours before sparkled in the candlelight. You had never begged for that.

"You sure, belle? You were just begging to be fucked." Your red-lipped pout turned into a shy smile.

"I wanna see it shining when I touch you," you said quickly, feeling the betraying blush across your cheeks. Bucky's sharp blue eyes turned soft and sincere, and he left the condom forgotten on the side of the bed as he quickly undid the cuffs around your wrists.

"Touch me, belle." You pushed him over at the shoulder and he went easily, both of your gazes locked on your left hand wrapping around his cock. To hear what you said was entirely different than the experience, and when you moved your wrist, the light caught it and Bucky moaned.

"I love you, I can't wait to fucking marry you." Your lips slipped over the tip and his head fell back. You put your other hand to work on his balls and your saliva coated everything, your ring still shining in the darkness.

"Belle, you gotta stop, I wanna-mmm fuck, honey." You were slow to stop, but you did, and quickly found yourself on your back, Bucky looming over you again. He was quick with the condom this time, and your eyes rolled closed when he pressed into you. Bucky pulled your leg over his hip, using the leverage to slam into you, his own words getting incomprehensible as he fucked you and you screamed his name.

"Touch yourself, baby, I want to c-" You were already almost there, and as soon as you clenched around him, Bucky came, hard, hips stuttering as you hit your third orgasm of the night. He chanted your name like a prayer as your heat held him in till you were both boneless and panting. It took a few minutes of getting cold and sticky, but Bucky finally found his senses and pulled out, pressing light kisses to your cheeks and nose.

"I love you, James Barnes."

"I love you more, belle. Would you care to join me in a nice hot shower before we talk about how that was the hottest fucking thing over." You giggled, letting him manhandle you to your feet. You pressed yourself to his hot chest, and you stood there for another few minutes, your head to his collarbone and his pressed to your hair.

"I can't wait to marry you. I meant it then and I mean it now."

"I don't think I can wait particularly long," you responded, taking a step back. He was smiling at you like you hung the moon. You certainly looked the same and you followed him into the bathroom.

[champagnedstappen]

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader. This is a simple Christmas blurb. ;)

Perhaps his skin becomes so much lighter is because the colour of snow. There's theory where someone's skin is usually getting more light if the background is also light and not dark. Maybe the theory also works on him. Because in your eyes, he looks more... How can you say it? Glowing mayhaps.

You look at him thoughtfully, when you thought this man couldn't be more fine, then he always proved it. Clearly this is one of his moments. He looks at you, abandoning his skiing pole on the ground full of snow. You're shivering, sure you're using many layers, but holy shit, you're not used to cold temperatures. Clearly will never be.

"Mon cœur... Are your still shivering?" He asks. You are about to scoff, not enjoying any questions from him while he asked it with hint of humour—the urge to laugh at you, you can see it on his eyes, you know him too well anyway.

As he try reaching you while walking, leaving his pole with his friends—having conversation about skiing you clearly don't understand about, you're kicking some of the snow on the ground. You should be enjoying the trip. Last year, Charles tried to get you on board on the trip, but failed at the attempt since you were so against the cold temperatures, knowing how bad you can be.

You snap jokingly, well you can't be mad at him nonetheless. "What do you think, Leclerc?" At that, he laughs and finally standing in front of you. Hands on your waist, creating some patterns you don't really pay attention to in this situation.

"My love, I'm not laughing. I'm fully concerned," he continues. Making his face to full acting, trying to look like he's not going to make fun of you. Yet his eyes are soft, looking at you like you're his favourite person to be with, like you're all that matter. Making you knees buckle.

It's your turn to laugh before sighing. "I don't know why you asked me to be part of the trip. I can't even do anything, I'm only slowing you and the guys."

His green eyes—which you've noticed since you first met looking straight at you. There's some frowns that you hate so much. During the season, you knew how much pressure he had. Ferrari battling for the World Constructor Championship added to his shoulder, making it a cherry on top, you'd say.

After Abu Dhabi, his mood worsened. Loosing the title to McLaren certainly made his mind wander over something not certain and useless in your perspective. He kept blaming himself, thinking all What-Ifs, if only he did this, if only he didn't, if only he was better.

You hate it. You think his frown and depressive stare are your biggest nemesis. Something that you wish Avengers could fight like when they fought against Thanos.

You remember those days where you couldn't attend the Grand Prix, having jobs you needed to be at, he called you after the free practice, qualifying, hours after race—especially after bad results, he tends to be alone after bad race, not wanting to throw some tantrums or putting his anger at you. It leaves some bad spots on your emotions, seeing him so sad and blaming himself adding your personal problems with the sports.

You just want this trip to be his healing list. You don't want to worsen his days by making his holiday worse than ever.

Yet he shrugs it off. "Baby, what are you taking about? I only agreed to this winter trip so we can have our time together. If you didn't agree, I wouldn't too. I'd rather stay at home, maybe doing something funny while decorating Christmas tree with you, ma chérie."

These are the moments where you are sure that before you meet him, you never understood the situation of love. Back in the days you only think that love was impossible for you. Because in your mind, you thought, what could be love from you? There's nothing special. You're just... You. You're no model, you're no extravaganza, you're... No special.

But then there's interesting Monégasque who does anything to make you feel loved. Who's every actions makes you like you're everything. Who's actions are calculated, proofing how he would do anything for you.

Just, maybe, if you are loved too after you met him.

He continues. "We can stay in any city that you want. Summer, winter, any season doesn't matter. And like other every cities than exist in this world, there is city in my heart where you are its only population."

"Oh, Charles Leclerc. You're a fucking simp. Now teach me."

Yes, this moment definitely on your 'He's the proof where I am loved too' list.

"و في قلبي مدينة كُل سُكانها أنتي.'

"And there is a city in my heart where you are its only population." By Mahmoud Darwish.

[little-diable]

May thy knife – Feyd-Rautha (smut)

This is y'alls fault, all your comments made me write this. So, here we go, psychotic reader is back, but with a somewhat loving relationship. It felt only right to twist this famous scene – I'm sure this has been done before but I haven't read a fic that takes on this twist just yet, so I'm in no means copying any fic out there. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: What if the reader, who is married to Feyd-Rautha, didn't know that Paul, her brother, was still alive? What if it was her fighting against him instead of Feyd – all for revenge, to make her brother feel the same pain he had forced her to feel with his faked death?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (m), willingly rough loss of virginity, choking, dom!Feyd, degrading, spitting, fighting, passing out, blood licking, knife licking, reader is a psycho fitting Feyd, yet there's some form of love between the two, and no, I ain't killing us so we survive the fight

Pairing: Feyd-Rautha x fem!Atreides!reader (4.2k words)

The hatred she emanated was felt by all people surrounding her, people who didn’t dare meet her icy gaze – not even the emperor dared to turn towards (y/n). It was a wise decision, for the sake of all their lives, knowing that she could rob their soul and their last breath even without any weapons on her. 

It had only been a few minutes since they had been taken prisoner, and while (y/n) could have easily fought her way out of the tight grasp, she hadn’t been able to move. Frozen to her spot as she had never been before, unable to move as her eyes followed the frame of the Muad’Dib. Paul Atreides. Her brother. The man she had believed to be dead for endless weeks. The prophet who hadn’t spotted her in the small crowd. 

Not even Feyd-Rautha’s closeness had managed to rile her up at that moment, the man she had been forced to marry, the man she hadn’t allowed to touch her, not even on their wedding night. It hadn’t taken him long to accept that she’d cut off his hands should he touch her, speaking lies to the Baron to answer private questions that had left (y/n)’s insides churning. Feyd had protected her even when she went against a simple contract, lured closer by the darkness she carried deep within herself. 

She had made too many sacrifices for her brother and their mother’s lies, tossed away for a strategic marriage she hadn’t been prepared for. All to mourn her brother who was still alive and breathing, guiding those who saw the prophet in him.

“You’re quiet. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this, wife.” Feyd’s breath teased her neck, he stood with his armoured front pressed against her back, hands resting on her waist. It was a dangerous game, a game she didn’t buy into, too focused on her racing mind. Feyd gave (y/n) another moment to push him away, just like she had always done – but she didn’t, she kept herself pressed against him as if he was an anchor saving her from drowning. “What are you planning?”

“How I will kill the Muad’Dib.” Not one ounce of love thumped through her veins, an emotion she had once held onto, at least for her older brother; a love that had frozen in her system the second she had heard his voice ring in her ears minutes ago. Feyd’s raspy chuckles left her skin tingling, adding fuel to the fire simmering deep inside of her. 

For a moment, (y/n) allowed herself to focus on her husband’s touch, how he held onto her, tight enough to send a clear message to wandering eyes. He may have not claimed her behind closed doors, addicted to their game of back-and-forth, but to all those eyes, she was his as he was hers, a ruthless husband to a cunning wife. 

“You know, I am always excited for a fight.” She wanted to reply, wanted to tease him for fighting against drugged prisoners who never stood a chance against him, but the second his cold lips met her throat, her words were lost on her sharp tongue. Her heart roared in her chest, not used to being kissed by Feyd, not after their first and only kiss in front of their wedding guests. 

“You won’t fight. This is between my brother and me.” (Y/n) turned in Feyd’s grasp, letting her eyes wander over her husband’s features. He was handsome, she had always been drawn to him, and yet something had always held her back – the fear of being tied down by a man who perfectly matched her ruthless ways, a man who would rather kill himself than back down from a fight, just like (y/n). They were too similar, a scary realisation she had been forced to face many moons ago. 

“I will let you fight, wife, but for that, I get to claim you tonight.” The mischief twinkling in his bright pupils pushed anger through her, anger clashing against lust. Her mind didn’t get to interfere as (y/n) shifted her weight onto her toes to press a kiss to his lips. She pulled away before Feyd could deepen the kiss, heart roaring in her chest as if it was communicating with his. 

“You’ll have to lick my brother’s blood off me before you get to touch me.” Her words were meant as a warning, a warning Feyd clearly found enjoyment in. And with his raspy laugh echoing through the room, she found herself thrown back into her darkening mindset, preparing for a fight against her brother. 

……

“How can you be so sure the Great Houses are here for me?” Paul’s voice filled the room. She didn’t see much of his frame, standing behind Feyd to shield herself from her brother’s and her mother’s eyes. She hated the way her fingers trembled, urged on by her anger, by her sadness, emotions flushing through her like poison set to kill her. “They may be curious to hear my side of the story, don’t you think? I am Paul Atreides, son of Leto Atreides, Duke of Arrakis.”

She wanted to shoot forward, wanted to throw herself against her brother’s frame to force him to his knees. But the hand Feyd pressed against her stomach to hold her back was enough to stay glued to her spot. The time wasn’t right just yet. 

“Gurney, send a warning to all ships. If the Great Houses attack, our atomics will obliterate all spice fields.” Paul’s words left most of the people surrounding (y/n) tensing, words that were about to force a laugh out of her. She could feel and see her mother’s influence on Paul, forming him into the son she had always dreamt him to be. 

“You’re out of your mind.” The Emperor’s slightly trembling voice drew a smirk to both (y/n) and Feyd’s lips, they got a taste of the chaos soon unfolding in front of them, drawing a sick sense of satisfaction and anticipation through the couple. 

“He’s bluffing.” She couldn’t stop a soft laugh from leaving her at her husband’s words, urged on by the need to stand even closer. Her body was guiding her without giving her mind a chance to protest as her hand found Feyd’s. She was still covered by his tall frame, and yet she felt him freezing for just a second as she interlaced their hands. 

“Consider what you’re about to do, Paul Atreides.” Within seconds, the voice filled their ears, forcing the Reverend Mother to lose her balance. No longer could (y/n) focus on the exchange between Paul and the Emperor, no longer could she focus on Feyd whose hand she had dropped once again. (Y/n) knew that the time was finally right, it was now or never, a fight that would end with either her’s or her brother’s life on the line.

“Stand or choose your champion.” Those were the words that ripped (y/n) out of her trance, pushing past her husband. She didn’t see how Feyd’s fingers twitched, having to stop himself from reaching for her, to stop (y/n) from fighting a battle he had been destined for. 

“I’m here, Paul.” (Y/n) spoke the words with venom dripping from her voice, watching her brother’s bright pupils widen. From the corner of her eye, she could watch her mother shoot to her feet, and yet (y/n) didn’t dare let her gaze wander, enjoying the realisation that began to widen on her brother’s panicked features. “I need a blade.” 

“Accept mine.” She didn’t rip her eyes from her brother’s to look at the Emperor, seizing the chance to read Paul well enough to tell her that he fought an inner battle. Paul whispered her name as he slightly shook his head, begging his sister to step away. Her tongue kissed her teeth as a blood-curdling smile widened on her lips, she didn’t need to speak up to tell Paul that she’d try everything she could to kill him, a simple act of revenge for leaving her, for forgetting her, for playing her. 

With a slow nod thrown her way, seemingly accepting her will to fight, Paul turned from (y/n) to walk back towards his people. Only Feyd’s hand on her waist managed to rip her gaze from her brother’s frame, “Make me proud wife. Kill him.” 

Feyd squeezed her waist as he pressed a harsh kiss to her lips, a clear signal for all those who were watching their interaction. He’d kill them all should she die, avenge her death as if it was his own life they tried to take. Without speaking another word, (y/n) pushed Feyd away from her, she tightened her grip on the Emperor’s blade, and let her feet carry her towards her brother. 

“(Y/n),” Paul’s choked-up voice drew a humourless chuckle out of her. For a moment, she allowed her gaze to stray, to look at their pregnant mother and the unreadable expression she wore. (Y/n) had never been the favourite child, even though she was the girl Jessica had been asked to birth. She had always been too ruthless, too cold, too cunning for their family, the outcast who had been married to Feyd at the first given chance. 

“Say it.” (Y/n)’s words were venomous, spat at her brother whose pained expression made him appear even more pathetic in her eyes. She wanted Paul to speak the words, words the siblings had spoken as mere children whenever they challenged one another into a play fight. Paul kept quiet, unable to part his lips until she almost screamed her words, “Say it!”

“May thy knife chip and shatter.” Paul’s voice trembled as he spoke the words, momentarily closing his eyes as if he struggled to accept their fate, to accept that he was expected to kill his beloved sister, unable to back down from a fight like this. She repeated the words much slower than Paul had, with a dangerous smile tugging on her lips – no longer did (y/n) care about her own life, about the mere chance of dying in her brother’s arms. She was hungry for revenge, to make him feel the pain she had been forced to carry deep within herself these past weeks. 

And then everything began to blur, one attack after another, one strike after another, one stumble after another. She felt all their eyes on them as they fought, but (y/n) couldn’t give into the temptation to study the crowd, searching for Feyd’s eyes that were glistening with adoration for his wife. A woman fighting like a snake, slithering along Paul’s body to squeeze him to death. 

Only as Paul’s knife cut (y/n)’s skin for the first time did her world begin to slow down, momentarily stopping its spinning motion. Paul seemed to freeze just like she did, focusing on the blood pouring from the wound. Perhaps he expected her to back down, to leave the circle to search for her husband’s protection. But (y/n) did something she had studied her husband do one too many times: Her fingers found her wound, picking up the drops of blood to suck her fingers clean, high on the coppery taste. Feyd’s laughter rang in her ears as she attacked her brother once again, faster this time, even more ruthless than the rounds before.

With blood sticking to her lips, (y/n) and Paul kept circling one another – all until she seized her chance to ram her knife into his side. Paul’s gasp forced their mother to her feet once again, searching her daughter’s eyes to shake her head, a silent warning not to kill her brother, a silent gesture that they wouldn’t mourn her death, only Paul’s. But while her mother’s eyes carried a clear warning, Feyd’s carried encouragement, asking his wife to end this right there and then. 

A moment of distraction that gave her brother the chance to slice his blade through her skin, forcing it to nestle inside her stomach. Both siblings held onto one another, glassy eyes finding back together as neither loosened their grip. 

“Do it, kill me. Feel the pain you’ve forced me to feel, feel the grief that has almost killed me.” Tears dripped from (y/n)’s eyes as she choked on her blood, knowing that she’d pass out any moment now. And even though she felt the darkness creeping through her veins, telling her that it was time to bid this life goodbye, a smile began to widen on her lips. 

This was the moment she had imagined all these weeks, it was finally upon them. 

Slowly Paul sacked to the ground with (y/n) clinging to him, holding onto her as he lifted his teary gaze. She didn’t see the way her brother's panicked gaze looked around the room, didn’t see the way his eyes found Feyd’s rage-filled ones, luring her husband closer. All she could focus on were the tears dripping from Paul’s bright eyes, holding back his sobs as Feyd kneeled next to them. 

“Do whatever you must, save my sister.” 

……

She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open. It took her a moment to focus on her surroundings, the grey walls, the dim light, and the figure standing close to her bed. Pain shot through her as she tried to move, forced to plop back down onto the mattress with a curse clawing through her.

“You’re finally awake.” Feyd’s raspy voice drew a whimper from (y/n)’s chapped lips, eyes momentarily fluttering close to try and remind herself of what had happened. “You almost died, killed by your foolish brother who has never fought fair before. I should have killed him for hurting you.” 

“Come here.” (Y/n) ignored her husband’s words, not daring to think of her brother, of their fight, and of the blood she had lost. Wordlessly, Feyd came to a halt next to her, staring down at her to wait for (y/n)’s next command. With another gasp roaring through her, she shuffled around on the bed, making space for her husband to lay next to her. “If you tell others of this I will kill you.”

His chuckles filled the room as he carefully placed himself next to her. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, giving the married couple a chance to be close to one another for the first time, without any eyes on them, without hatred urging words to leave their cold lips. 

Feyd’s hand slightly trembled as he reached for her no longer bloody fingers, slowly interlacing them. Never had he done this before, reaching for her without any further message to communicate, holding onto her for the mere chance to be close to her. 

“What happened to Paul?” Pain clawed through her at the thought of her brother. Anger had forced her to act, anger she hadn’t been able to swallow until now, unsure how to accept that her family had lied to her. 

“Don’t worry about him for now.” Feyd didn’t tell her how he had left the planet with her, how he had brought her away from that place. Feyd didn’t tell her how he had sworn to Paul that he’d avenge (y/n)’s death should she die. Feyd didn’t tell her how Paul had told others to let them go, not knowing where Feyd was taking (y/n), not knowing if he’d ever see his sister again. 

And at that very moment, (y/n) didn’t find the strength to ask another question, the strength she would regain soon enough to find her path back to her cunning self, set on ending the ruleless game between her and her family. 

…… 

“Fight like a Harkonnen for fuck’s sake!” Anger pushed her words past her clenched teeth. Sweat was pooling on (y/n)’s forehead as she stared at her husband with spite swimming in her pupils. She knew Feyd was holding back, not trusting that (y/n) had regained her full strength just yet, the strength she’d need to force him to his knees in a training session like this. 

“Wife.” It was a warning he spoke, a warning not to rile him up even further, knowing that he’d lose his patience soon enough. (Y/n) darted at her husband, her body collided with his to throw them both to the ground. She straddled his waist with a grim expression tugging on her features, knowing that in any other scenario, she wouldn’t have been able to attack Feyd like that. “Fine, this is your own fault, darling.”

Feyd harshly pushed her off him, momentarily robbing his wife of her breath as her back collided with the cold ground. He rose to his feet with his jaw clenched and his hands balled into fists – the version of her husband (y/n) desperately had tried to trigger. They circled one another, holding onto their blades with twitching fingers, set on regaining the upper hand.

Now it was on Feyd to attack first, his blade met hers over and over again, until he cut her cheek, drawing a hiss out of (y/n). She was heavily panting as he chuckled, bringing the bloody tip of his blade up to his pale lips to lick it clean, moaning at the taste of her blood. 

Something began to shift at that moment, something that forced her to drop her blade, to throw herself into his grasp and to kiss him. Both fell back to the ground, allowing Feyd to cage her between the floor and his frame. His hand found her throat to keep her pinned down beneath him, all while their tongues fought for victory. 

(Y/n) tightened her legs' grasp around his waist to pull him even closer, moaning at the way he ground his hips against hers, making her feel his hardening cock straining against his tight trousers. Everything about this moment was new to her, unsure of where to go from there without any experience guiding her, not knowing how to touch her husband. And yet, everything seemed to come almost naturally to her, trusting her body and Feyd to push her through the soaring waves of heat filling her trembling body.

“I should have fucked you months ago. You had your chance, but now I won’t be gentle with you, I will fuck you as a woman like you deserves to be fucked.” His words shot heat straight to her core, words that forced her to hold still as Feyd kept manhandling her, cutting her shirt open with his blade. The groan that left him at the sight of her naked chest made (y/nn) back arch, desperate to feel his hands on her. “I should tie you up, keep you as my toy to claim whenever I am hungry for you. I bet you’d enjoy that, wouldn’t you?”

“I hate you!” It was nothing but a lie, a lie both easily saw through, but at that very moment neither Feyd nor (y/n) cared about pleasantries, urged on by their desires. He cut open her trousers before another curse could leave her, exposing her arousal-covered folds to his darkening eyes. Tonight he’d litter her in bruises. Tonight he’d force her to follow his rules. Tonight he’d show her his most ruthless side. 

“Hate me all you want, wife, your body still craves the touch of your husband. You’re dripping for me.” He didn’t warn her before he plunged two fingers into her tightness, feeling her walls flutter around his digits. Feyd held eye contact with her as he spat on her cunt, rubbing his saliva against her pulsing bundle. (Y/n)’s moans rang in his ears, urging him on as if he was high on spice, blurring out their surroundings, blurring out the calmness they were now disturbing. “I can’t wait to rip you open with my cock, make you feel pain you won’t ever forget.” 

Her mind was silenced, fogged up by the lust thumping through her veins. Feyd fucked her with his fingers, he pushed her closer to the high she had only allowed herself to feel whenever she had been desperate for his touch but too proud to search his closeness. But her body wasn’t ready to give up the chase just yet. Her hand found her blade, moving without gaining Feyd’s attention, who was still fully focused on her cunt.

With quick movements, she brought the tip of her blade to his throat, stopping him in his movements. The chuckle leaving Feyd left her smirking, looking even more psychotic with the blood still dripping from the cut on her cheek. She barely put up a fight as Feyd ripped the blade from her hand, as he shifted them around to bring her to her knees and up against his front. 

The blade teased her throat as he held her to him, even as he freed his aching cock, ready to disappear deep inside of her, “You had your chance, I would have prepared you for my cock, would have given you time to adjust. But that kindness is no longer among us. Now you’ll take my cock like my own personal whore.” 

He forced his cock into her cunt, groaning at the tightness engulfing him. Tears ran down her cheeks, tears of lust, of pain, of desperation – finding an unfamiliar sense of enjoyment in Feyd’s rough touches. His name rolled off her tongue as he fucked into her from behind, dropping the knife to choke her with his cold hands once again. 

Feyd was treating her like his pet, treating her like he had been raised to treat women – momentarily forgetting about the love he fostered deep inside of him. And she loved every second of it, finally able to give up control for the first time. 

“It brings me great pleasure knowing that no other man will ever get to have you like this. Your body is mine, you’re my whore, you only listen to my commands. And you will kill whoever dares to touch you should I not be fast enough to do it myself.” His words left her choking, forced to claw her fingernails into his pale skin as her mind began to race. Even though the words didn’t sound like it, it was the most sincere love confession Feyd had ever spoken, words that cut deeper than any blade ever would. 

“Feyd.” She whimpered his name as his free hand found her clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves to push her towards the edge. The first of many orgasms was awaiting her, set on ripping her from this place into another dimension, led by her husband. (Y/n) felt his black teeth run along her neck, biting the spot where her neck met her shoulders, close to drawing some more blood from her weeping body. 

She came without another word clawing through her, calling out his name as her orgasm momentarily robbed her of her vision. Feyd kept a strong hold on her throat, his hips kept meeting her behind, forcing his cock further into her clenched tightness. He gave it a few more thrusts before he pulled out of her and rose to his feet. 

With his hand finding her hair, he forced her towards him, making her scalp burn from the strength of his touch. His cock was shoved past her parted lips, letting (y/n) taste herself on his cock as he fucked her mouth. The corners of her mouth began to burn within a few moments, once again making tears fall from her glassy eyes. 

She had never seen her husband like this, trembling for her, with his head thrown back, and his eyes closed, fully focused on the pleasure thumping through her. No longer did she feel the need to fight, no longer did her fingertips ache for the feeling of her blade, no, for the first time since knowing Feyd, she wanted to give her everything to satisfy the man. 

“You’ll swallow every drop of my seed, and then you’ll lick me clean.” It was a simple command, a command that left her moaning around his cock. Feyd came within a few more seconds, releasing himself down her throat and on her eager tongue. The two held eye contact as she swallowed, as she ran her tongue up and down his twitching length, following his every command. 

“Where are you going, wife?” She froze in her movements, her heavily panting self had turned from him, set on plopping down on the ground to catch her breath. (Y/n)’s wide eyes were drawn back to his like spice forced up into the air, following the wind’s call. “That was only the beginning. I won’t be done with you for a while.”

[iomoru]

hiii! been a fan of your works for quite a bit now but a little hesitant to request.. anyway, if you're doing reqs then may i please request an asexual (like, wants physical and emotional intimacy but not sexual) reader and kazuha, kinich, scara+ whoever you like? just like, how would they respond/would they be comfortable w that?

Gentle Bonds

A/n: Ofc anon! You can send reqs to me anytime as long as I still keep it open, I tried doing my best so I hope you like it!

Genre: Canon Verse, Fluff, Some of the chars might be a little ooc, Gn! Reader, Asexual Reader, Char! x Reader, Second Person, Proofread

Chars: Kazuha, Kinich, Wanderer (Scara), Ajax (Childe), Diluc, Kaeya

Summary: Intimacy comes in many forms, and when you share your feelings about being asexual, your partners respond with warmth and understanding. Through tender moments, they prove that love is about more than physical closeness─ it's about the bond between two hearts that truly understand each other.

Kazuha:

The evening breeze gently rustled the maple leaves as you and Kazuha sat under the tree, your head resting on his shoulder. His fingers absentmindedly combed through your hair, and he smiled at you with that serene look that always made your heart flutter.

“I love these moments,” you said softly, “Just being close to you like this.” You hesitated before continuing, “But I want you to know that I'm not interested in anything more than this—physically, I mean.”

Kazuha's smile didn't falter instead, it seemed to grow even warmer. “The beauty of a moment lies not in its intensity but in its sincerity,” he said, his voice like a calming breeze. “Your presence, your touch—these are enough for me. I treasure the way we share our thoughts and feelings. There's no need for anything more if this is what makes you comfortable.”

He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, grounding you in his unwavering acceptance.

Kinich:

Kinich’s eyes lit up as he spotted you in the garden, a bouquet of freshly picked wildflowers in his hands. He walked over, his expression as warm as the desert sun. Sitting down beside you, he placed the flowers in your lap and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You sighed contentedly, leaning into his touch. “I love being close to you, like this,” you murmured. “I don’t need anything more than this kind of intimacy.”

He looked at you, his expression softening with understanding. “Being close to you means more than words can say,” Kinich replied, his voice as gentle as a whispering breeze through the trees. “If holding you, sharing these moments, and making you feel loved is what makes you happiest, then that's all I need. You're enough for me, just as you are.”

He pressed a light kiss to your forehead, as if sealing his words with his affection.

Wanderer (Scara):

The two of you sat on a rooftop, the night sky above and the bustling city below. Wanderer was unusually quiet, his hand intertwined with yours as he watched the stars. He was different when it was just the two of you—softer, less guarded.

“I don’t need anything more than this,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. “I just want to be close to you without crossing those lines.”

He turned to look at you, his gaze intense but softened by something unspoken. “You think I care about that?” he scoffed, though his tone lacked its usual bite. “I'm not exactly good with feelings, but I understand boundaries. If all you want is this—just holding hands, leaning on each other—that's fine by me.”

He squeezed your hand a little tighter, as if to prove his words. “You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not,” he added, a small, genuine smile playing at his lips.

Ajax (Childe):

Ajax grinned as he pulled you into a hug, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around in his typical playful manner. You laughed, feeling the warmth of his embrace, and when he set you down, you kept your arms around him a moment longer.

“Ajax,” you said, looking up into his bright blue eyes, “I love how close we are. I just want you to know that I’m not comfortable with anything beyond this kind of affection.”

His grin softened into a tender smile, and he cupped your cheek with one hand. “You know, I never signed up for anything specific when I fell for you,” he said. “I just wanted to be by your side, to see you smile like that. If this is all you need, then it’s more than enough for me.”

He kissed your knuckles gently. “As long as I can make you happy, I’m right where I want to be.”

Diluc:

Diluc set down the book he was reading when you entered the room. You sat down beside him on the couch, curling up with your head resting against his shoulder. His arm instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close.

“I love moments like these,” you said softly, “Just being near you. I want you to know that I’m not comfortable with anything beyond this—just physical and emotional closeness, nothing more.”

He looked at you, his crimson eyes gentle and understanding. “Your comfort matters more to me than anything else,” he replied quietly. “I’m not with you for what you’re willing to give, I’m with you because of who you are. If holding you close and sharing these peaceful moments is what makes you happy, then that’s enough for me.”

He pressed a light kiss to your temple, his embrace warm and reassuring.

Kaeya:

Kaeya pulled you into a slow dance in the courtyard, his hand resting on the small of your back while the other held yours. The night was still, the stars twinkling above as you swayed to a melody only the two of you could hear.

“Kaeya,” you said gently, looking into his eyes, “I love how close we are, but I don’t want anything beyond this kind of connection—just being near you like this.”

Kaeya’s gaze softened, his playful smirk replaced by something far more genuine. “You think I’d trade this closeness for anything else?” he said, his voice low and sincere. “I enjoy being near you, feeling your heartbeat in sync with mine. If this is what makes you comfortable, then I wouldn’t dream of asking for more.”

He twirled you once before pulling you back into his arms, whispering, “You’re all I need, just like this.”

A/n: it's currently 11:20 pm rn and I feel so drained bc of everything (including school) sooo I lowkey used the same words for some of them :3

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[cryptidghostgirl]

Humanity’s Most Favored Fantasy (Alastor x Reader)

Paring: Alastor x Reader

Description: It wasn't love. Alastor didn't feel love, not anymore. He'd lost that part of himself the day he died so it couldn't be love, could it?

Warnings: Look, I'm writing and it's not for a request. Angst. It's always angst. I just love Alastor's inhumanity, what can I say? This bitch is in denial. Also, bodies, blood, death, no gore but like, eh. Also Adam is in this one and he's his own warning. Loose Mistki quoting at one part. Also a loose Sappho quote “pale as grass” and self harm.

Word Count: 2,420

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A/N My classics major side came out a little bit in this one lol. Also I have a big classics major side fic in the wings so if you guys like this, just wait. Also Sir Pentious is from the 1800s so he for sure had a classical education. Also the title came from an article I was reading about the history of witchcraft for one of my classes.

The most complex and yet the most simple of the human emotions. Feared by some, wielded by others, out of reach for many, perennial for more still, and taken as easily as a breath of air by a solemn few. What a strange thing, love.

It was this last category that bewitched Alastor. Even when he had been alive, he had never understood the people like that, the ones who took heartbreak in stride, the ones who shared any love they had the minute they felt it with everyone and everything. The ones who weren't paralyzed by potential loss or violent embarrassment.

The people who feared love made sense. It had a vast capacity for harm, it was able to destroy without a second thought. Even when it was good, love could be devastating. Those who wielded it as their weapon of choice nearly fell into a subcategory of this group. They used other people's fear of the matter against them or they lured people in to get what they wanted and threw them to the curb without a second glance.

Everyone on earth, living or dead, had felt at least once that love was out of their reach, Alastor reasoned. Hopelessness is one of the most vital parts of the human condition, after all.

Perennial was the category in which most people fell. Love came and went. It lived and died, but always returned like the plants he had named this grouping for.

Then there were people like Y/n. Not a day went by where she wasn't explaining how much she adored something random or telling people she loved them, throwing the word around as if it had no weight, as if it was the easiest thing in the world to love, to share love. When Angel had made some snide remark about everything being her alleged 'favorite thing,' Y/n had quickly replied, saying:

"Aren't I lucky for that? Isn't that just wonderful?"

Alastor couldn't tell in which category he fell or what his opinion was about that answer of hers. One thing he did know was that Y/n was to be avoided at all costs.

She was the typical sinner. Never too bad of a person when alive, but never too good either. She wore her hedonism like a badge of honor, living her afterlife in much the same way Alastor assumed she had lived her living life: in a constant state of indulgence.

It wasn't the typical form of being that takes a person's mind when they think of the word. No, Y/n didn't indulge in a reckless, Dionysian way. Instead, she devoured everything. Books, good food, music, friends, you name it. Y/n had a million stories about each and a million examples of the best they all had to offer on hand. She relished in all that every word had to offer.

Alastor had overheard her talking to Charlie one night about that. He hadn't meant to, he had just been wandering the hotel, unable to sleep and in need of some air, when he'd heard a slight commotion in the lobby. Hidden by his shadows, he had entered the familiar space to find an exhausted Charlie standing tensely before a bulletin board.

"God is in the details." Y/n was saying as she adjusted the plans pinned on the structure so they were easier to read, more cohesive, "Anything can be a work of art, don't forget that. It's what makes everything so undeniably worth it."

She was so utterly out of his reach. Not that Alastor wanted Y/n in his reach, no. How ridiculous would that be: the Radio Demon, the most feared overlord in all of Hell, getting butterflies because he heard a girl tell someone else she loved them and imagined it was him. No, that would be utterly foolish which was why it wasn't the case, couldn't be the case. He must be getting sick, that was why his stomach had felt weird.

"What are you reading?" he heard Sir Pentious ask as the snake demon took a seat on the couch beside Y/n.

Alastor was at the bar, sharing a drink with Husk. His ear twitched in their direction.

"It's a book discussing the changes in interpretations of Sappho's poetry over time." Y/n replied, her tone soft and even.

It felt like a salve against Alastor's ears. Husk raised an eyebrow towards his master but made no remark.

"Really? I didn't know you were interested in that sort of thing."

"I was actually a professor in the human world... living world? Whatever. I didn't work on Sappho, I worked on ancient medicine, but I always found her intriguing and lovely. I mean, phainetai moi is creating a diagnosed love, using all the language of medicine. How could it not capture my attention?"

"You know, if you look at Homer, the same language Sappho uses is also used to describe love. She is actually working off a preexisting cannon of love as something painful and destroying."

"Really?"

"Yes, and curse tablets tend to draw off medical writings quite a bit as well, especially those involved in love magic."

"Huh, that’s a neat little intersection I have yet to explore: medicine, magic, and love. I never knew you knew so much about this. You died in the 1890s, right?"

"Sometime around then."

"I should have guessed then, my mistake. Tell me, what was it like growing up with all this wonder at your finger tips? It was hard for me to even find a university with a classics department, let alone a good one. You’re lucky to have had it all right there."

Now that was an interesting idea to Alastor. A diagnosable love, a painful and deadly thing. Love as a curse, love as being shot through by an enemy spear, love as a god. It made more sense to him than anything else about the matter had. Unavoidable, not something self imposed. A cursed love, a medical love, something that controlled a person rather than vice versa.

He lay awake at night, unable to speak, pale as grass, thinking unwillingly of the way her lips curved to form words, of the way one could see the gears of her mind turning behind her eyes. He lay awake, unable to do anything else. He stared at the ceiling.

"Ah! Angel! Thank you!" Y/n exclaimed as he handed her the sweater he'd spotted her eyeing a few days before when they'd been for a walk around town, "This was so kind of you!"

Alastor watched as Y/n pulled the lanky demon into a hug which he reluctantly returned, looking down at her with a platonic version of the sort of fondness that was so forbidden to him.

"Great work Angel!" Charlie clapped excitedly, "That's a step in the right direction."

No, it wasn't love. Alastor Hartifelt didn't love, he had lost that ability the day he had died and he'd barely had it before that. It didn't matter that his heart skipped a beat, there was no truth to his upset stomach when he had to speak to her except something bad he must have eaten. The sleeplessness wasn't new, sleep had never been his friend so to speak, the two had never really gotten along. The reason it got so stuck in his head, the way she threw her affection around, was the carelessness of it all, the foolishness. Only, what he had overheard her saying to Charlie that night, that anything can be a work of art, were the words of someone who acted purely on intention, who did nothing without considered thought.

Y/n couldn't be a wielder of love. Alastor never once saw her manipulate someone or even really ask anyone for anything at all. There was no way she was scared and the way she freely gave took her out of the other two categories as well. It didn't make sense. The intention, the earnestness, the true meaning behind her actions and words that always seemed to shine through no matter what she did, was what had him stuck. She barley even fit into her own category because of it. Most people that threw love around the way she did had the words and actions lose their meaning over time but, somehow, that seemed never to be the case for her.

He pictured a life on earth. He pictured walking with her beneath the stars, the way the light of the moon would play gently across her skin. He pictured her in the recording studio, the one he'd worked at while alive, waiting by the door for him to finish his work and taking him by the hand, dragging him off into the unknown. He pictured waking up beside her in the morning, all messy hair and smiles. He pictured, he dreamed, he dissolved. The doctors diagnosed him and he went to see other people because he didn't like the answer they gave him.

Y/n pulled Vaggie from her seat at the bar, spinning the demon into an ungraceful waltz to the music Alastor was playing on the piano for the group. He nearly fumbled, nearly missed a note. She missed so many steps and it didn't matter because she was laughing, and so was Vaggie. She didn't have to be perfect, but he did.

They each smiled ear to ear while Charlie clapped along to the beat. He imagined himself in Vaggie's place, he could practically feel his hands on the gentle curve of her hips. The world was half real.

It wasn't love because he didn't know her, he never spoke to her. It wasn't love because that was impossible, he couldn't love. It wasn't love because that was an ability he'd left in the world of the living. It wasn't love because she was too kind, too good, and he was nothing if not brutal and bloodstained to his core. It wasn't love because it couldn't be. It wasn't love because if it was...

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

He repeated the mantra to himself. Alone walking the halls, in meetings with the other overlords, making tea in the kitchen. He whispered the words to himself like a prayer.

It's not love. It's not love. It's not love.

Y/n was out of reach, untouchable, destined to join the ranks of Heaven while he remained rotting in Hell. It couldn't be anything else, no other future was possible which was why it wasn't love. She was made of all the things a human is and he was made of those a monster is. She was bright, she shined, and Alastor fed off the light of others, burning it out into darkness. He refused to do such a thing to her, he couldn't. Not when she was practically the sun. Not when he wasn't even a star but the black hole of the earth revolving around her.

He saw her holding Husk's hands over the bar top as he told her something, a look of deep concern etched into her features. He watched her pick Nifty up by the waist so the little demon could dust the tops of the bookshelves. He watched her, he waited, he would always be waiting because nothing could ever happen. Nothing would ever happen, he wouldn't allow it and goddamnit it wasn’t love.

It was also impossible, Alastor reminded himself. He had left that part of himself when he had died, it hadn't made the journey with him. The most favored fantasy of his own humanity, or what was left of it. The little spark of the person he had been that glowed softly from the center of his chest. Alastor had tried to douse it, tried to kill it, tried to rip it from himself but all he'd ever ended up with was bloody hands and torn flesh and the light pulsed on in its eternal hunger, its eternal hope, its eternal harm.

And then it was too late. Then, she really was gone, double dead or however anyone wanted to call it. Adam dropped her lifeless corpse to the ground and Alastor's world crashed in around him because no matter how many times he had said it wasn't, no matter how he had avoided her, no matter what he had done it had been love, or the beginnings of it at least. The closest thing to it he'd ever really felt. His hand tightened around the staff of his microphone. Alastor bared his teeth, he saw red.

"What have you done?"

Adam turned to him, grinning. Y/n deserved a viking funeral, to be surrounded by flowers and sent off in a burning boat. She deserved a Greek burial, reduced to ashes and buried with all the proper rites that made sure she would make it to the afterlife. She deserved, she was owed, he was angry.

"What." Adam laughed, "Was she your little bitch?"

Alastor didn't think he had any room left inside him for the fury, but found his rage redoubled at Adam's words.

"What did you just call her?"

"Your little bitch." Adam smirked, "She was a cute one, shame you all are gonna have to burn. Woulda kept her for myself."

Adam looked down, nudging Y/n's lifeless corpse with the toe of his shoe. Alastor attacked. There was no thought, no order, no grace, there was only the anger. Only now that it was too late, was he at last able to let loose, be less than perfect, exist in an unintentional manner. Or was it that this was the true meaning of intention -- reckless abandon? Y/n probably would have thought that. It didn't matter. It didn't matter what she would have thought, what any of them did think. It was too late. There was no more time and Alastor had come to terms with his own frailty a second past the buzzer. He would never forgive himself.

"You will pay for what you have done. You will die for what you have done."

Because it had been love, all along and Alastor, who had thought himself above it all, had been in that first group. He had been scared, not of what love could do but of what Y/n would, of what she had already done to him. Now it was too late and he would never get another chance.

"You will fucking die!"

----

Part Two --> → Humanity's Most Favored Fantasy pt. 2

[novaursa]

The Dragon's Right (12)

- Summary: It was by grace of the gods that firstborn child of Viserys I and Aemma was born a boy and he lived. And all of the rest, scholars will later say, is by power of something more malevolent in kind.

- Paring: male!reader/Rhaenyra Targaryen

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Word count: 6 700+

- Previous part: 11

- Next part: 13

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

The skies over Dragonstone were overcast, a heavy blanket of gray clouds that seemed to press down on the ancient fortress. The sea winds swept through the courtyard, carrying the salty tang of the ocean as you stood, watching the crimson form of Caraxes descend from the heavens. The Blood Wyrm was unmistakable, his long, serpentine body slicing through the air with a grace that belied his fearsome reputation. As Caraxes landed with a thud that sent vibrations through the stone beneath your feet, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mixture of nostalgia and wariness.

It had been ten years since you’d left King’s Landing, ten years since you’d made your choice to live in exile with Rhaenyra, far from the politics and treachery of the court. Yet, even here, on the windswept isle of Dragonstone, the shadows of your past seemed ever-present. And now, with Daemon’s arrival, those shadows had come calling once more.

Daemon slid off Caraxes with a practiced ease, his movements as fluid and confident as ever. His silver hair, longer now, whipped around his face in the brisk wind. He wore a dark riding cloak that billowed behind him as he approached, his expression a curious blend of amusement and something else, something that made you tense.

“Nephew,” Daemon greeted, his lips curling into a wry smile as he stopped before you. “It’s been too long. I’d say Dragonstone suits you, though I must admit, the quiet life doesn’t seem quite your style.”

You clasped his arm in greeting, your grip firm as you met his gaze. “Daemon,” you replied, your tone cordial but guarded. “I’d say the same for you. But then, I don’t imagine you’ve come all this way just to admire the scenery.”

Daemon laughed, a low, almost conspiratorial sound. “No, no. Though I must say, the view from the skies is magnificent, as always.” His eyes gleamed with that familiar mischievous glint. “I couldn’t resist dropping in. I still remember the show we put on all those years ago—Lannister’s face was something to behold, wasn’t it?”

You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Yes, you did enjoy yourself, didn’t you? Stirring up the hornet’s nest and then watching it burn.” There was a pause, then you added, more seriously, “But we’ve paid the price for it, haven’t we? Exiled from our father, from the crown. All for defying a marriage that should never have been considered.”

Daemon shrugged, as if such consequences were of little concern to him. “What’s life without a bit of rebellion, hmm? You and Rhaenyra made your choice, and I supported you then as I do now. Besides, it was amusing to see the Lannisters quiver for once. You took what was rightfully yours—no more, no less.”

You nodded, though the weight of the years spent in exile bore heavily on your shoulders. “But why are you here now, Uncle?” you asked, your voice turning serious. “You didn’t come all this way just to reminisce.”

Daemon’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a more contemplative look. He took a moment, glancing around the courtyard, his eyes lingering on the old walls and the distant sea beyond. “Viserys sent me,” he said finally, his voice quieter. “He wishes to see you both. He’s… missed you, despite everything. The years have not been kind to him without his children. And he wants to meet his grandchildren.”

The mention of your father’s name brought a mix of emotions surging to the surface. You’d tried to bury your anger, your resentment, but hearing that Viserys wanted to see you now, after so many years of estrangement, felt like reopening an old wound.

“He wants to meet my children now?” you said, your voice flat, betraying none of the turmoil inside. “I suppose it’s been difficult for him, hasn’t it? So difficult that he married Alicent Hightower after Otto couldn’t push her onto me as well.” Bitterness seeped into your words. “And then he tried to do the same with Rhaenyra.”

Daemon’s eyes narrowed slightly, watching you closely. “I won’t deny that Otto Hightower’s machinations played a part in all this. And yes, Viserys made his choices. Poor ones, perhaps. But he’s still your father, and the weight of his crown has only grown heavier over the years.”

You turned away, looking out toward the horizon where the sky met the churning sea. The memories of those last days in King’s Landing, the betrayal, the forced choices—it all felt too close, too raw, even now. “He was willing to sacrifice both of us for the sake of alliances, for the sake of his damned peace.”

“And now he’s paying the price for it,” Daemon said softly, his voice lacking its usual bite. “You and Rhaenyra—your absence has left a wound in him. He’s not the man you remember, nephew. The years, the burdens of the crown… they’ve taken their toll. He’s not well.”

You took a deep breath, trying to steady the storm of emotions inside you. Part of you wanted to scoff, to dismiss the idea that Viserys could feel regret, that he could truly want to reconcile. But another part of you, the part that remembered your father not as a king but as the man who had once held you and Rhaenyra close, who had smiled and laughed and told stories of old Valyria—that part of you ached to believe it.

“And what of Rhaenyra?” you asked, turning back to Daemon. “He’s banished her in all but name. What does he want from her now?”

Daemon sighed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “He wants his daughter back. He wants his son back. He wants to meet the children he’s only heard about in letters. Whatever anger or pride kept him away before, it’s fading. He’s sick, Y/N. And he’s afraid.”

You clenched your jaw, the conflicting emotions tearing at you. This was the last thing you had expected—a summons, an invitation to return after all these years. And yet, the thought of facing your father, of returning to that world of intrigue and betrayal, made your blood boil.

“It’s not that simple,” you said quietly. “We’ve built a life here. Our family is here. And after everything that’s happened…”

“No,” Daemon agreed. “It’s never simple. But he’s reaching out, in his own way. He’s trying to mend what’s broken. If you’re willing to listen.”

You looked down at the stones beneath your feet, the wind carrying the distant cries of the dragons above. This was a decision that couldn’t be made lightly. Too much was at stake—your family, your children, and Rhaenyra’s heart, which had been battered by years of rejection and exile.

“And if we say no?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Daemon shrugged, though there was a seriousness in his eyes that belied his casual posture. “Then you stay here, and the world keeps turning. But know this: Viserys is dying. If you don’t see him now, you may never have the chance to see him again.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and suffocating. You turned away, your heart pounding as you tried to process what Daemon had said. It felt like a trap, like the last desperate plea of a man who had already lost too much. But there was also truth in it, a truth that made your chest ache.

“I’ll speak to Rhaenyra,” you said finally, your voice strained. “But I make no promises.”

Daemon nodded, his gaze understanding. “That’s all I ask, nephew.”

He turned then, walking back toward Caraxes, who waited patiently in the courtyard. As Daemon climbed back into the saddle, he looked back at you one last time, his expression solemn. “Take your time, Y/N. But don’t take too long.”

With a final nod, he urged Caraxes into the air, the great dragon’s wings beating powerfully as they lifted off the ground, the sound echoing across Dragonstone.

You watched as they disappeared into the sky, the wind whipping around you, carrying with it the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future. The decision lay heavy on your shoulders, a choice that could change everything once again.

The horns of the city rang out twice, their deep, resonant call echoing across the Red Keep and through the streets of King’s Landing. The sound brought King Viserys back from his restless thoughts, his frail form stiffening as he looked out the open window. His children had returned, just as Daemon had promised. The realization brought a mix of relief and trepidation to his heart.

Viserys turned to Ser Harrold Westerling, who stood dutifully at his side. The years had not been kind to the king; his skin was pallid, his frame thin and weakened, and his once proud stance was hunched, as if the weight of his crown had finally crushed him. His breathing was labored, each intake a struggle, but his eyes, though dimmed, were still sharp with anticipation.

“Ser Harrold,” Viserys said, his voice strained but determined. “Prepare an escort. The Prince and Princess are to be brought from the Dragonpit to the Red Keep with all the honor they are due. Ensure their children are treated with the respect of their station.”

Ser Harrold bowed, his face a mask of concern. “As you command, Your Grace.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on the king’s weary form. “Shall I summon the Maester? You seem... unwell.”

Viserys waved him off, his hand trembling. “I’ll see my children first. There will be time for rest later.”

With a nod, Ser Harrold left to make the arrangements, leaving Viserys alone in the chamber. The king took a deep, shuddering breath, leaning heavily on his cane as he made his way toward the door. Each step was a struggle, but the thought of seeing you and Rhaenyra again after so many years gave him strength he had thought long gone.

The courtyard of the Red Keep was filled with anticipation as the welcoming party assembled. Lords and ladies, retainers and servants all gathered, whispering among themselves as they awaited the arrival of the Prince and Princess. Viserys stood at the head of the party, flanked by his Kingsguard and councilors. His gaze was fixed on the grand entrance, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.

And then, you rode in, leading the procession on horseback, Rhaenyra at your side. The sight of you both, after so long, took his breath away. You had changed in the ten years you’d been away—no longer the young man who had left King’s Landing in a storm of rebellion and defiance. Your hair, still the pale blond of your Targaryen lineage, was longer now, pulled back into a neat braid. Your features were more defined, a hardness in your jaw and eyes that spoke of battles fought and won. You wore dark armor, polished but unadorned, the emblem of House Targaryen etched into the breastplate. There was an air of command about you, a strength and resolve that had grown in your years of exile. But there was also something colder, a guardedness in your expression that made Viserys’s heart ache.

Rhaenyra rode beside you, her presence as commanding as ever. Her silver hair, loose and windswept, framed her face, and her violet eyes were fixed ahead, the only hint of her anxiety the slight tension in her jaw. Behind you both, riding on smaller horses, were your children—Jacerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey. They sat tall in their saddles, their expressions a mixture of awe and trepidation as they took in the grandeur of the Red Keep.

You dismounted first, your movements fluid and controlled, as you stepped forward to greet your father. Rhaenyra followed suit, helping the children down from their mounts. Viserys felt a lump in his throat as he watched, his eyes lingering on his grandchildren, whom he was seeing for the first time in the flesh.

“Father,” you greeted, your voice formal and cold. The title was spoken without warmth, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of disappointment and disdain. “It’s been a long time.”

Viserys’s heart clenched at the harshness in your tone, the bitterness that lay just beneath the surface. He took a faltering step forward, leaning heavily on his cane. “Y/N...” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “You’ve... you’ve grown into a fine man. I—”

“Save the pleasantries, Father,” you interrupted, your voice low but cutting. “We both know why we’re here. You sent Daemon to bring us back after ten years of silence. What is it you truly want?”

The courtyard seemed to still at your words, the gathered nobles exchanging uneasy glances. Rhaenyra stood slightly behind you, her face unreadable as she placed a reassuring hand on Jacerys’s shoulder. The boy looked up at his mother, his eyes wide with uncertainty, but he remained silent.

Viserys swallowed, the pain in his chest worsening. “I wanted... I needed to see you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve missed you both, more than I can say. And I... I want to meet my grandchildren.” His eyes moved to the three boys, his gaze softening. “They... they’re beautiful, Rhaenyra.”

Rhaenyra inclined her head, her expression guarded. “They are my pride, Father.” Her tone was polite but distant, and Viserys felt the chasm between them, one that had only widened with time.

You turned to Alicent then, who stood beside Otto, her face pale and tense. “Alicent,” you greeted, your tone almost polite but edged with disdain. “Or should I say, Your Grace?” You gave her a curt nod. “I must confess, I’m unsure of how to address you now.”

Alicent flinched at the coldness in your voice, her eyes lowering for a moment as she struggled to maintain her composure. “Prince Y/N,” she began, her voice strained but steady. “It is... good to see you after so long. The king has been unwell, and it is a comfort to him to have his family near once more.”

“Family,” you echoed, the word heavy with irony. “Yes, I suppose that’s what we are. Though I doubt Rhaenyra and I were much of a comfort to him when he chose to marry you.”

Alicent’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, and she forced herself to meet your gaze. “I never wished to cause you or Rhaenyra pain,” she said quietly, her voice sincere despite the tension between you. “I—”

“Stop,” you said, your tone softening just slightly. You could see the pain in her eyes, and though part of you wanted to lash out, you restrained yourself. “This isn’t about you, Alicent.”

Before the silence could stretch any further, Maester Mellos stepped forward, bowing deeply. “Prince Y/N, Princess Rhaenyra,” he greeted, his tone deferential. “Welcome back to King’s Landing. We have much to discuss, but for now, let us focus on your safe return.”

You nodded curtly, though your gaze remained on your father. “Yes, there is much to discuss.”

The tension in the courtyard was palpable as you turned to Tyland Lannister, who had remained silent through the exchange. His face was a mask of civility, though there was a tightness around his eyes as he forced a smile.

“Prince Y/N,” Tyland greeted, his voice strained. “It’s good to see you again. The realm has missed your presence. We hope you’ll find King’s Landing... accommodating.”

You studied him for a moment, your expression unreadable. “Lord Tyland,” you said finally. “I hope your brother has recovered from the shock of our departure all those years ago.”

Tyland’s smile faltered, but he kept his composure. “Lord Jason has moved on, as have we all,” he replied, his voice tight.

Before the exchange could escalate further, Otto Hightower stepped forward, his voice smooth and diplomatic. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation inside, Your Grace, Your Highness. We’ve had food and wine prepared, and there is much to discuss.”

Viserys nodded, though his gaze remained on you and Rhaenyra, his eyes lingering on the boys beside her. “Yes,” he murmured. “Yes, let us go inside.”

You exchanged a glance with Rhaenyra, who gave a small nod. The five of you—husband, wife, and children—followed the king into the Keep, the tension hanging over the family like a storm waiting to break.

The grand hall of the Red Keep was filled with the soft clinking of silverware and the murmur of conversation as the family gathered for the first meal they had shared in over a decade. The long table was set with an abundance of food and drink, from roasted game and fresh fruits to flagons of fine Dornish wine. Yet, despite the luxurious spread, the atmosphere was strained, the tension palpable in every glance, every word exchanged.

Viserys sat at the head of the table, his frail frame dwarfed by the opulent chair. He watched his family with a mixture of relief and trepidation, his gaze flickering between you, Rhaenyra, and your children, and then to Alicent, who sat to his right, her expression carefully composed. On the other side of Alicent were her children—Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena—all of whom sat quietly, their eyes darting curiously to you and Rhaenyra.

You and Rhaenyra were seated directly across from Alicent, your children beside you. Jacerys and Lucerys were trying to appear composed and dignified, their youthful faces betraying their unease in such an imposing setting. Joffrey, the youngest, shifted restlessly in his seat, glancing up at the grand, unfamiliar surroundings. You reached out and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze, a small smile on your lips.

Viserys cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. “It is... heartening to have my family together once more,” he began, his voice weak but sincere. “We have much to discuss, but let us first enjoy this meal.”

The conversation started tentatively, with polite inquiries about the children and your life on Dragonstone. But as the meal progressed, Viserys turned the topic to the elephant in the room, his eyes resting on you and Rhaenyra.

“I understand,” Viserys said slowly, his gaze shifting from you to Rhaenyra, “that you were married in the old Valyrian chapel on Dragonstone. An ancient and sacred place.”

You inclined your head slightly, your expression neutral. “Yes, Father. Rhaenyra and I were wed there, according to the customs of our ancestors.” Your tone was measured, but there was a subtle edge to it. “It is as valid a marriage as any other in the eyes of our house and tradition.”

Tyland Lannister, seated a few places down, shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His lips pressed into a thin line as he recalled the enormous sum House Lannister had spent on the grand wedding that never took place, not to mention the damage to the Sept near Casterly Rock. “Of course, Prince Y/N,” he said, his voice strained. “One can hardly dispute the... sanctity of such a union. Though the Sept where... your departure occurred still bears the scars of that day.” He forced a polite smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

You gave him a cool look, your expression unyielding. “I’m sure House Lannister can afford a few repairs, Lord Tyland.”

Tyland’s jaw tightened, but he did not press the matter further, his hand clenching around his goblet.

Alicent, who had been observing the exchange quietly, set down her knife and fork, her eyes lingering on you and Rhaenyra, then shifting to the children seated beside you. There was an underlying tension in her gaze, a restrained irritation that simmered beneath her polite facade. It was a feeling she had harbored for years, one that had only grown as she watched you and Rhaenyra defy everything the realm expected of you.

She couldn’t help but wonder, as she often had, if Rhaenyra had deliberately lured you into her bed before you left for the Dornish border. Had she seduced you, entangled you in her web to secure your loyalty and affection so completely that you would defy the king and steal her away from her own wedding? The thought gnawed at her, though she pushed it down, focusing instead on the repulsion she felt at your union. To her, who had been raised in the Faith of the Seven, your marriage was an affront, a sinful act of selfishness that mocked the very traditions she held dear.

As Alicent’s gaze lingered on your children—on Jacerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey—Rhaenyra felt the weight of her scrutiny. She looked up sharply, her eyes locking with Alicent’s. There was no warmth in Rhaenyra’s gaze, only a cold, defiant challenge. For a moment, the two women stared at each other, the years of bitterness and betrayal hanging between them like a shadow.

“Rhaenyra,” Viserys said suddenly, breaking the tension, his tone filled with a forced cheerfulness. “I must say, the boys have grown strong and handsome. I would very much like to get to know my grandsons better.”

Rhaenyra tore her gaze away from Alicent, her expression softening as she looked at her father. “They are as spirited as their namesakes,” she replied, her voice steady. “Jacerys and Lucerys have been practicing their swordplay, and Joffrey, well... he is still finding his way, but he has the heart of a dragon.”

Viserys smiled, though the effort seemed to cost him. “I look forward to seeing them in the training yard. Perhaps they could even teach their uncles a thing or two.” He gestured toward Alicent’s children, who had been watching the exchange in silence.

Aegon, now a young man, glanced at you and Rhaenyra with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something darker that he hid behind a lazy smirk. Aemond, his face serious, studied you with the intensity of someone trying to understand an enemy. Helaena, on the other hand, seemed lost in her own world, her fingers tracing patterns on the tablecloth as she muttered softly to herself.

You looked at your half-siblings, your expression unreadable. “We will see, Father,” you said evenly. “It’s been a long time since we’ve shared such... family activities.”

Alicent’s eyes flicked to you, and for a moment, she almost spoke, her lips parting as if to say something, but then she stopped, her fingers tightening around the stem of her goblet. She looked at Viserys instead, forcing a smile. “The children have missed having their father present. I’m sure it would do them good to spend time with their family,” she said, though her words felt hollow.

Viserys nodded, his eyes distant. “Yes, yes... family. It is what binds us, even when we are apart.” He looked at you then, his gaze lingering on the hardness in your eyes, the guarded expression on your face. “Y/N, Rhaenyra... these years have been difficult for us all. But now that you are here, perhaps we can begin to heal these wounds.”

“We’ll see,” you said quietly, your tone flat. “It’s not so easily done, Father.”

The conversation drifted on, the tension ebbing and flowing with each exchange. The food was eaten, though few seemed to have much appetite. The wine was poured, though most drank sparingly. The atmosphere remained strained, the past casting long shadows over the present.

Aegon, his gaze flicking between you and Rhaenyra, leaned back in his chair, his smirk returning. “So, what’s life like on Dragonstone, brother? It must be... exciting, living among the dragons and the ghosts.”

You looked at him, your expression cool. “It has its challenges,” you replied, your voice calm. “But it’s home.”

“And the people there?” Aemond asked, his tone more direct. “Do they welcome you as their Prince, or do they fear the dragon that stole the princess away?”

There was a sharp intake of breath around the table, but you merely raised an eyebrow. “The people of Dragonstone know where their loyalties lie,” you said smoothly. “And they respect those who defend them, not those who sit idle in luxury.”

The barb hit its mark, and Aemond’s eyes narrowed, but before he could respond, Alicent spoke up, her voice strained but firm. “That’s enough, Aemond.” She turned to you, her gaze steady. ��Y/N, Rhaenyra... despite everything, I am glad you are here. For the king’s sake, if nothing else.”

Rhaenyra’s lips tightened, but she inclined her head slightly. “For the king’s sake,” she echoed, her voice tinged with bitterness.

The uneasy quiet was punctuated by the occasional clink of cutlery against porcelain, the scrape of a chair, or the hushed murmur of a courtier whispering nervously. Though there were many gathered at the table, it felt as if there were only two camps—those who stood with you and Rhaenyra, and those who supported Alicent and her children. And, of course, King Viserys, caught between them all, like a man trying to hold back a tide with his bare hands.

Alicent set down her goblet, her fingers lingering around the base, and cleared her throat, drawing the attention of the table. Her eyes moved from Rhaenyra to you, then back to Rhaenyra, a calculated look in them. “Rhaenyra,” she began, her voice polite but edged with something sharper. “It’s been so many years since you left. We all... wondered what compelled you to take such drastic actions.” She smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. “I suppose, after everything, you must have had your reasons for eloping and leaving your family behind.”

Rhaenyra stiffened, her fingers curling around the stem of her goblet. “My reasons, as you put it, were very clear, Alicent.” Her tone was steady, but you could hear the barely restrained anger beneath the surface. “I chose to marry the man I love, the man I wanted to spend my life with. That is a choice that, as I recall, was not available to you.”

A sharp intake of breath rippled around the table, courtiers exchanging glances. Alicent’s smile faltered, but she recovered quickly, her eyes flashing with something dark. “You’re right, of course. Duty has often dictated my choices. But not everyone has the luxury to simply follow their heart, especially when the stability of the realm is at stake.” Her voice was soft, but there was steel in it.

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrowed. “The stability of the realm? Is that what you call forcing me into a marriage with Jason Lannister? All for some political gain?” She leaned forward, her voice rising slightly. “You speak of duty, Alicent, but don’t pretend for a moment that you or your father haven’t benefited greatly from those same decisions.”

Alicent’s face flushed, but she kept her composure. “We all have a role to play, Rhaenyra. You were supposed to be the princess, to stand by your father’s side, not flee to Dragonstone with your brother and leave the rest of us to pick up the pieces.”

Rhaenyra opened her mouth to retort, but you reached out, placing a hand on her arm, your touch gentle but firm. “Enough,” you said quietly, though your voice carried authority. You turned to Alicent, your gaze steady and unreadable. “We did what we felt was right, given the circumstances. And it’s clear those decisions were not made lightly.”

Alicent met your gaze, her eyes searching, as if trying to understand you, trying to find the man she remembered. “And what circumstances were those, Y/N?” she asked, her voice softer now. “What was so dire that it justified breaking your father’s heart and turning your back on the realm?”

You exhaled slowly, your eyes flicking to Viserys, who watched the exchange with a pained expression. “Our father was forcing Rhaenyra into a marriage she did not want, to a man she did not love. And he was willing to do the same to me.” Your voice was calm but firm. “I made a promise to protect my sister, and I will not apologize for keeping that promise.”

The hall was silent, every eye on you and Alicent. You could see the hurt in her eyes, the resentment she tried to hide behind her composed mask. You turned away from her then, focusing on Otto Hightower, who had been watching the exchange with a calculating expression.

“Lord Hightower,” you said, your voice carrying the weight of your title. “Perhaps you could enlighten us on the current state of the realm. I would hope that as heir to the throne, I would be made aware of any... pressing matters.”

Otto leaned forward slightly, a faint smile on his lips as he addressed you. “Of course, Prince Y/N. The realm is... stable, for the most part. The Stepstones remain a volatile area, despite Prince Daemon’s recent efforts. There are still struggles with Dorne, though nothing that threatens immediate conflict.” He paused, his gaze shrewd. “There have been whispers of unrest in the Riverlands, but they have been managed thus far.”

You nodded, though your expression remained serious. “And what of the alliances formed in my absence? Surely, there have been changes in the political landscape.”

Otto’s smile widened, though it did not reach his eyes. “Indeed. Since your departure, several key marriages have strengthened ties with the Reach and the Stormlands. The marriage of your sister, Princess Helaena, to Prince Aegon has also ensured a more unified front within House Targaryen.”

You glanced at Aegon, who shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He looked at you with a mix of curiosity and disdain, his mouth twisted into a faint smirk. “And what of your marriage, Y/N?” Aegon drawled, his voice carrying across the table. “I’ve heard many tales of the... unique customs on Dragonstone.”

You shot him a cold look, your patience wearing thin. “My marriage is as strong as any in this room,” you said sharply. “And it is recognized by those who matter.”

Before Aegon could respond, Viserys raised a hand, his voice trembling but determined. “Enough of this bickering. We are here as a family, not as political adversaries.” He looked at you and Rhaenyra, his eyes pleading. “I have missed you both terribly. And I wish to see my grandchildren grow up knowing their family. Whatever has happened, we must find a way to move forward. Together.”

There was a moment of silence, the king’s words hanging heavy in the air. You glanced at Rhaenyra, whose face softened slightly, her anger ebbing away in the face of her father’s frailty.

But Alicent wasn’t done. She turned back to Rhaenyra, her eyes hardening. “And what of your sons, Rhaenyra?” she asked, her voice deceptively light. “You’ve been away so long. Do you ever wonder what kind of life they could have had here, at court? Among their family?”

Rhaenyra’s gaze snapped to Alicent, her eyes narrowing. “My sons are dragons, Alicent. They belong on Dragonstone, among their people, not in this nest of vipers.” Her voice was cold, each word a dagger.

A murmur rippled through the courtiers, tension rising. You could see Otto’s calculating gaze flick between you and Rhaenyra, as if weighing the implications of every word spoken.

Alicent’s face tightened, but she didn’t back down. “I suppose that’s one way to see it,” she said quietly. “But a child should know their family. Even if that family isn’t perfect.”

Rhaenyra leaned forward, her voice low and dangerous. “Don’t you dare presume to lecture me on family, Alicent. You, who wormed your way into my father’s bed, who bore children of your own while trying to strip me of everything that was mine.”

The tension at the table was suffocating now, every courtier’s gaze fixed on the two women, their faces pale with the anticipation of what might come next.

Before the situation could escalate further, you interjected, your voice calm but firm. “We will discuss this another day,” you said, your eyes moving between Alicent and Rhaenyra. “This is not the time or place for such discussions.”

Alicent’s gaze flicked to you, her eyes filled with a mixture of resentment and sadness. “You’ve changed, Y/N,” she said softly, her voice almost a whisper. “You used to care more about... so many things.”

You felt a pang in your chest, but you forced it down, your expression unyielding. “I still care, Alicent. But my priorities have changed.” You glanced at your children, who were watching the exchange with wide eyes, their confusion and fear evident. “My family is what matters now. And I will protect them, no matter the cost.”

A silence fell over the table, the weight of your words settling like a stone. Viserys looked between you and Alicent, his eyes filled with a deep sorrow, as if he were watching his family splinter before his eyes.

Otto, ever the diplomat, leaned forward slightly, his tone soothing. “Perhaps we should continue this conversation another time. For now, let us focus on what unites us, rather than what divides us.”

Viserys nodded slowly, though his gaze remained troubled. “Yes,” he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Yes, let us try to be... a family again.”

The meal continued in strained silence.

The bedchamber in the Red Keep felt both familiar and foreign after so many years. The room was adorned with rich tapestries depicting dragons in flight and the Targaryen sigil emblazoned proudly on the walls, a constant reminder of your heritage and the legacy you bore. The soft flicker of candles illuminated the space, casting a warm glow over the plush rugs and the intricately carved bed that dominated the center of the room.

You stood near the window, gazing out over the sprawling city of King’s Landing, the lights of the city twinkling like distant stars in the darkened sky. The sounds of the bustling capital, though muffled, reached your ears—the hum of voices, the distant clatter of hooves against cobblestone, the occasional call of a merchant trying to sell his wares even at this late hour. It was a strong contrast to the quiet, windswept solitude of Dragonstone.

Rhaenyra was across the room, slipping out of her gown and into a simpler, more comfortable robe. Her silver hair, loose now, cascaded down her back in waves. She watched you from the corner of her eye, sensing the tension in your posture, the heaviness in your shoulders.

“Y/N,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence that had settled between you. “Are you all right?”

You sighed deeply, turning away from the window to look at her. “I’m not sure how to answer that,” you replied, your voice tinged with frustration and sorrow. “Seeing him today... I barely recognized the man who was once our father. He’s a shadow of what he used to be.”

Rhaenyra moved closer, her bare feet silent on the thick rug. She reached out, placing a hand gently on your arm. “He’s aged more than the years should allow,” she agreed, her tone laced with sadness. “But it’s not just time, is it?”

You shook your head, your jaw clenched. “No, it’s not.” You turned back to the window, the city sprawling out beneath you, feeling impossibly far away. “It’s them. The Hightowers. Otto, Alicent... they’ve twisted him, manipulated him. I remember a time when he was strong, decisive. Now he seems... broken, as if they’ve drained the life out of him.”

Rhaenyra’s hand tightened on your arm, a gesture of solidarity. “They’ve poisoned his mind with their ambitions. Alicent has always been her father’s pawn, and Otto... he’s wanted to control the throne for as long as I can remember.”

You nodded, your eyes narrowing as you thought back to the day’s events, the way Otto’s gaze seemed to assess every word, every action, always calculating, always scheming. “I saw the way he looked at us today, weighing the situation, trying to find a way to turn it to his advantage. And Alicent...” You trailed off, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “She’s no different. They want to use Father as a puppet, to control the realm through him.”

Rhaenyra sighed, her gaze dropping to the floor. “And he lets them. He let them slither their way into every corner of his life, every decision. He’s not the father who once stood before the council and proclaimed us his heirs, who would have fought for what was right, no matter the cost.”

You turned back to her, your eyes softening as you reached up to brush a strand of hair from her face. “I know, Rhaenyra. I know. But what can we do? If we push too hard, if we try to wrest control from them, it could tear the realm apart.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes flashed with defiance. “Then let it tear. We have dragons, Y/N. We have strength they can only dream of. We can remind them what true power looks like.”

You shook your head, your expression pained. “I don’t want to fight them, Rhaenyra. I don’t want to start a war. But I won’t let them continue to destroy what little remains of the father we once knew.”

She looked at you, her gaze intense, searching your face for answers, for a way forward. “Then what do we do?” she asked quietly, her voice barely more than a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your hand still lingering on her cheek. “We play their game, for now. We show them we’re not weak, but we don’t strike unless we have to. Father needs to see that we’re here, that we’re not abandoning him to their schemes. Maybe... maybe we can remind him of who he used to be.”

Rhaenyra leaned into your touch, her eyes closing briefly as she took comfort in your presence. “I want to believe that’s possible,” she murmured. “But I fear he’s too far gone. Every time I look at him, I see the pain in his eyes, the weight of all these years of being pulled in different directions. I see...” Her voice caught, and she paused, taking a shaky breath. “I see how they’ve taken him from us.”

You pulled her closer, wrapping your arms around her, holding her tightly as if you could shield her from the world, from the pain that seemed to seep into every corner of your lives. “We’ll find a way, Rhaenyra. We have to.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in the low lit chamber, the world outside forgotten as you held each other, drawing strength from the connection that had carried you through so much. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls, and the distant sounds of the Red Keep—the footsteps of guards, the murmur of servants—faded into the background.

“Do you think he’ll see it?” Rhaenyra asked softly, her head resting against your chest. “Will he see that they’ve twisted everything, that they’ve made him into a tool for their own gain?”

You sighed, your fingers gently tracing circles on her back. “I don’t know. I hope so. But even if he does, I’m not sure he has the strength left to fight them.”

Rhaenyra pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting yours, fierce and determined. “Then we’ll be his strength. We’ll remind him that he’s not alone, that he still has us.”

You nodded, your gaze steady as you looked down at her. “We’ll fight for him, for the father we remember, for the man who once fought for us. But we have to be careful. We can’t let Otto and Alicent see us as a threat, not yet.”

Rhaenyra’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. “For now, we’ll play the dutiful children. But if they push us too far...” Her voice trailed off, the unspoken threat hanging in the air.

You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “If they push us too far, we’ll remind them what it means to cross House Targaryen.”

A faint smile curved her lips, and she reached up to cup your face, her thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “I’m glad I have you by my side,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

“Always,” you murmured, your voice firm. “Now and forever.”

The two of you stood there for a long moment, the weight of your responsibilities, your fears, and your love all intertwined in the quiet darkness of the chamber. 

[jjkfanatik]

Pablo Martin Páez Gavira x Reader

Summary: You find out that the guy you have been going out with has been lying about who he really is. How did you guys even meet, what were his reasons and thoughts and will your relationship remain?

Warnings: grammar issues, brief and light mention of drinking, other than that it’s pretty fluffy.

A/n: Hello Ladies! This is the first time i ever wrote something with the intention to post it. Feel free to give me some tips on how to better my writing, as long as you are kind. Keep in mind that english is not my first language. I hope you guys enjoy this. 🤗

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He knew he shouldn’t have lied about who he really is, but that one little lie came out of him before he could even think about it and now what is he supposed to do! Should he just run away and tell you the truth after those two weeks of such nice dates he is almost convinced that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

Run away and block you as soon as he gets home, yeah thats whats going on inside his head standing still and silently in front of you.

Does he even want to leave you? No, of course not. He wants to get to know you even better and continue all those dates and show you what you really mean to him.

can you really blame him tho? football players often don’t have the best reputation, pablo would never want you to think of him as arrogant or a player, or -even worse- an arrogant player. But you found out and now he needs to fix it bevor he never gets the chance to talk to you again.

“Um… your name is pablo right? Not actually Martin…”You asked, again seeing as he stood there not even blinking an eye, after you just asked him the first time, standing infront of your dorm room door.

keeping a soft voice and trying not to look too angry while asking the question that has been on your mind ever since he picked you up to take a walk and later on eat a sweet treat. Understandably you were angry, after finding out about his, real identity you could say, you have been nothing but thinking about why he would hide it.

Many emotions swirled through your body. Anger, disappointment and sadness. Feeling stupid for not having known him and needing your friend to look at you like you have grown to heads when you told her about this Martin guy and later showing her a picture of him “well thats pablo gavi” she told you. Thinking so much about it had you starting to form some self doubt, quickly shoving those thoughts away before they got to serious. Getting the idea that he may had gotten a wrong impression on you when you first meet him, causing him to lie but why would he then ask for your number and later on take you on really amazing dates where he had been nothing but a total sweetheart, nothing made sense anymore.

Bringing you flowers which seem like so much thought had been put into picking each and every single flower in there, holding every door open for you and making sure that you were nothing but comfortable and content during each and every second of the day. You guys had meet due to a really good Friend you had made during your first week here at university, Sira Martínez is her name. Having moved from a foreign country to peruse your dream, i had not been easy to make many -really any- friends since every student has their friendgroup and being pretty hostile when someone tried to come to close for their liking. When you had meet her in the community bathroom crying about her boyfriend beeing injured and not knowing how to help you could just not leave her there. Sitting there for more than two hours and talking about various things, both of you knew that a new bond was just formed.

After your first exam Sira had been trying to talk you to come clubbing with her, adding that you should “loosen up or else you wont find a boyfriend ever” and after hours of her sticking to your side like gum and telling you how both of you could even go into the vip section of that club because her boyfriend is known by the locals and many more, you agreed just so she would give you some peace.

Thats how you found yourself in a way to fancy club in the even fancier vip lounge all alone sipping on some cold beverage thats to expensive for its bad taste. Your gaze is set on Sira and her man laughing und danzing like there is no tomorrow. Your eyes sometimes shift to this one guy standing there with his friends conversing. Something about him just seems to draw your attention on him. Maybe its the way the purple light shines on his face, even a couple of meters away you can tell hes got those birthmarks on his really, really handsome face.

A scream shifts your attention to the other side of the club. Just some girl having had to much to drink. You want to turn around again and get back to observing that guy. But hes sitting right beside you. Jumping a little you look at your hands on the table holding an overpriced and not so good tasting beverage. Thank god its on the house -again Siras boyfriend- your bracing yourself because your sure your about to get told off for looking like some creep. But that never came instead; “I like your dress.”

And thats how you hit it of talking about how the club does not suite both of y’all’s taste and you would have much rather been invited to a more closed of, private and chill get together.

Never would you have expected him to lie about who he really is.

“I didnt want you making assumptions about me im not a bad person just bc i play football, im a nice guy you know that. I just thought that you would rather give me a chance being just me.” His eyes never meeting yours

“Your cute and kind Pablo, i like that about you and your fist name is nice, it fits you better”

Inching closer together and standing a bit on your tippie toes to fully reach his face

Pablos and your lips met in a soft and short kiss which had soon been intensified by Pablo’s hands that pulled you two closer together. His fingers caressed your cheeks. Even after parting from your lips they stayed right there providing you warmth and comfort You both stood there for a couple of seconds just smiling at each other, like some silly in love teens, which to be honest you guys kinda really are.

As you both then backed up a little bit. You wanted to make sure that nothing about your relationship -if you could call it that- had changed. “ so will you pick me up tomorrow? we should go on a date you as pablo and me as me.” I see his eyes get a bit wide wondering if he really thought that I would be so mad at him to not want to see him again my heart breaks a little thinking of that.

My stream of thoughts soon gets interrupted as he answers me. “Yeah! Definitely i will come straight after practice, don’t worry really!” His answer is a bit rushed. He seems excited. At least i hope he is. “Just make sure to not come smelly” we both laugh at that slowly inching more and more away even tho both of us would have loved some more time together. Having reached the door and getting my keys out i open the door, turning to him one last time debating if I should blow him a kiss or not but deciding against it, that can wait for after our date tomorrow.

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Alter Just found this after like 6 months 💀