#i do not have a name for her stand yet 😭

[fantastic-mr-corvid]

Cringe is dead have a jojos oc.

she's not just a jojos oc but that is the world I'm throwing her into at the moment.

Her stand has the ability to change the forces acting on an object, but is limited by amount of force, which is spread across all objects her stand is affecting.

Long nerdy explanation of her stand powers under the cut.

I swear im not a physics nerd, but I do use cad software and suffered through forces in a level maths so I do find this interesting as fuck. Mainly cause its a stand, this shit can be dry as fuck. I'm also not giving a numerical value for her pool of force she draws from bc fuck maths. I just thought a stand that is basically the fusion 360 move tool or that can manipulate those arrows on force diagrams would be cool

Summary:

Objects she is affecting are either actively controlled, which she can constantly affect the forces on and move, which is inside her range, or have been controlled, where she has changed the forces acting on it, but it is outside her active control range, where she no longer can directly control, but still is affected by the forces she changed.

E.g. she can make an object rotate around her arm because it's in her active control range, or she can make it go away from her at a certain velocity and once it exits her range she can not change it, but it will continue until it hits something or air resistance stops it.

Use:

Its main uses are stopping projectiles aimed at her and allys, as well as launching them.

But isn't it? Yep. One issue- stands can only be defeated by other stands [i need to reread part 5 and look closer at how mistas stand works cause they r kinda similar. cant remember if his bullets when used by sex pistols can affect stands] and her stand affects objects. So while she has great defensive and offensive capabilities, she can't defeat a stand, only it's user. At best she can knock back a stand, but her controlled objects do a fraction of the damage when attacking other stands.

Her strategy is to get a close range combat stand to fight the stand while going after its user. She is also extensively combat trained and skilled with weapons even without her stand, so she is much more likely to engage in combat herself with a stand user.

She normally uses her stand to throw projectiles, her throwing knives at first, but ball bearings or bullets work even better. She also uses it to stop incoming projectiles, either by controlling them, or using something she controls to collide with them.

her stand spends almost all of the time summoned but in the weird exactly where the user is double image type thing. bc her stand is skinny af and doesn't have 'skin' [the stand is made up of arrows and spheres mostly, spheres instead of joints and arrows instead of muscle/bone. haven't drawn it get but i have an idea] it isn't that visibly noticeable even to other stand users. it can go outside of her, but doesn't most of the time unless shes feeling really safe, or needs to have active control over something to far for her to reach [e.g. putting her stand in front of a bullet so she can stop it hitting a teammate] as it has few close range combat ability's, and she doesn't want to die herself.

Range:

Her active control range is about a foot from her stand, which she keeps summoned but inside her at most times. This means she needs to be very near the objects to control them, but the effects last outside of that range, meaning while the area in which she can actively control objects is small, the distance she can move an object is based on how much force she uses on it, making her overall a long range stand.

Potential:

Her stand has great potential, with at least two evolution's, one where she gains the ability to 'preprogram' the object with her stand, telling it what forces to apply when, as oppose to just applying them at once, and one where her stand gains sub stands [like killer queens sheer heart attack], so instead of having to be withing a distance of her stand, she can send out these smaller air-born stands to affect objects while still controlling them, massively increasing the range at which she can actively control objects.

When her stand evolves into having satellite stands, she can sacrifice her active control range to send one off so she can actively control an object from further away. These satellite stands are parts if her stands body, the parts that create her range [visually they are the sphere that make up the joints], so she can spread it thinner or leave part of her defenseless.

her stand evolves sub/satellite stands after she is forced to chose who to protect between multiple people, when her 'shoot all the people holding the hostages at once' idea doesn't pan out. [her weakness is machine guns and multiple hostages. she cant deflect all the bullets and she needs to protect herself or one of the hostages but all of them are to far away for her to cover more than one and if she dies then there's no point deflecting them bc they would die after she dies]

[acourtofquestions]

Dont be angry, Finnula said. Be smart.

[trashytracktales]

Omg can you please write some smut with Lando about the FIA gala??? He looks so hot in that suit and I need something about it🥵😭 Maybe after the gala ended and they’re back to their hotel or they fuck while they’re on the plane back to Monaco.

The FIA (Feral Instincts Arise) Awards | LN⁴

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── I knew there would be requests for this the second I saw Lando on that carpet. Bon appétit 😛

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── It's the 2024 FIA Awards, and Lando and his girlfriend can't help but steal a moment of passion, unable to resist the tension built through teasing touches and glances during such a glamorous night.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, established relationship, teasing, mild public intimacy, smut, descriptive language, fingering, bathroom sex, swearing.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.2k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 14, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── I have nothing to say except that I am absolutely devastated that my role model and inspiration, Michèle Mouton has officially retired from her role as FIA Safety Delegate. I love her so much and will forever be grateful for the representation she provided for women in motorsport throughout the years. In other news, at least everybody looked so fucking hot last night.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

IT WAS PURE torture for her to see him up on that stage from the beginning of the evening. She’d sat in the audience, her heart swelling with pride and gratitude for being able to be by his side during this exciting stage of his life — witnessing his hard work, his wins, and his dreams becoming reality. It's more than she ever imagined.

As she watched him, she realized she wasn't just proud of his accomplishments, but thankful to be the one he comes home to, the one who gets to share these moments that will live forever in both of their memories.

Standing up to cheer for him, as Lando’s name was announced for finishing second in the Drivers’ Championship, was a natural reaction. The applause was loud, a mix of respect and so much admiration for her determined racer boy who had fought tooth and nail all season.

McLaren’s triumph in the Constructors’ Championship only added to the celebration, the team beaming as they ascended the stage to accept their award.

While the room celebrated them, all she could think about was him — her man, standing under the spotlights, looking impossibly handsome in his perfectly tailored black suit and crisp white shirt. He looked perfect, from his styled curls to his sharp jawline and sweet, nervous smile. She felt very conflicted, overwhelmed with pride and love, yet squirming with a different kind of heat every time he looked for her in the audience. The way his dimple appeared when he smiled, the casual confidence in his voice as he gave his speech, and the glint of determination in his eyes as he thanked the team for having faith in him — every bit of it was intoxicating.

Now, at the dinner table, the atmosphere has shifted.

Glasses of champagne catch the glow, sparkling like liquid gold, as conversations hum softly among the elite of the motorsport world.

Lando sits beside her, relaxed in a way only he can manage after such a long, eventful evening. His suit jacket is draped over the back of his chair, his shirt sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal his forearms. He holds a champagne flute in one hand, the other resting lazily on her thigh beneath the table.

She can feel the warmth of his palm on her skin, his fingers flexing ever so slightly. It’s a casual touch — he’s sipping champagne, laughing at something Oscar just said — but the effect it has on her is anything but relaxed. Her heart races every time his thumb brushes against her soft skin, slow and intentional, almost like he knows exactly what he’s doing to her.

Her own glass of champagne sits untouched in front of her, her attention split between the conversation around them and the heat blooming under Lando’s hand. She tries to pay attention, nodding along while Andrea talks about some funny incident that happened in the garage during the last race of the season. But her thoughts keep drifting back to him.

She glances over at Lando, her breath catching at how effortlessly handsome he is, now that he’s more relaxed and in his element. The golden light softens the sharp lines of his face, making him look almost ethereal. But it’s the dimpled smirk that forms as he catches her staring that sends a shiver down her spine.

“Everything okay, gorgeous?” asks Lando, his voice low enough that only she can hear.

She nods, swallowing hard. “Positive. I'm just incredibly proud of you, that's all.”

His smirk widens, his thumb stroking her thigh with more purpose now. “You’ve said that already,” Lando murmurs, leaning in just enough that his breath brushes her ear. “But keep going. I like hearing it,” he adds, pressing his lips to her cheek.

She smiles, looking away, determined not to let him fluster her further.

However, Lando has other plans. His fingers trace unhurried patterns on her inner thigh, edging closer to the hem of her dress. The movement is subtle — nobody at the table would notice — but to her, it feels like her skin is burning. Her breathing gets heavier, and she shifts in her seat instinctively, her legs parting just enough under the table to grant him more access.

“My good girl,” whispers Lando, smiling against her cheek, then turning his attention back to the conversation.

Her heart skips at the quiet praise, and she shoots him a quick, warning glance, her eyes wide with panic.

Lando looks completely unbothered, taking part of the dialogue like he’s the epitome of innocence. The slight smirk tugging at the corner of his lips tells a very different story, though. A secret one, that only they know about.

“Stop it,” she whispers through gritted teeth, her voice so low that it’s practically a breath.

Obviously, he doesn’t. If anything, her quiet protest seems to spur him on. The pads of his fingers creep higher, brushing dangerously close to the heat between her legs. She grips the stem of her champagne flute tightly, her knuckles white as she tries to take her first sip of alcohol of the night — at least then she'll have something to blame if anyone asks her why she got so flustered all of a sudden.

“Lando,” she warns, her voice soft but firm.

“Hm?” he hums, his expression completely neutral as he keeps his attention to Oscar, who’s recounting his Turn 1 incident from Abu Dhabi.

She bites her lip, willing herself not to squirm in her seat. She almost can not believe how shameless Lando is, then she remembers all the times he tested her patience when they were in public. At that, her free hand drops to her lap, fingers wrapping around his wrist in an attempt to still his movements. He doesn’t pull away, but he also still doesn’t stop. Instead, his thumb presses a little harder, a constant reminder of his presence.

“You’re squirming, baby,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with amusement. “People are going to notice.”

“Then stop,” she repeats quietly, her tone sharp enough to earn a quick, curious glance from Andrea, who's sitting across from her. She ends up forcing a small smile, nodding, then turning back to Lando.

He chuckles under his breath, leaning in just slightly so his words are for her ears alone. “But we’re having so much fun,” he teases.

Her body betrays her as heat pools low in her belly, and she can’t stop herself from shifting again, her legs spreading a fraction wider. Lando takes full advantage of the movement, his fingers grazing higher until they’re just shy of where she needs him most. She glares at him, her eyes filled with need and her cheeks burning when his fingers slide easily over her lace panties, pressing harder on her warmth. As a response, her body jerks, and she barely suppresses a gasp, her nails digging into his wrist.

“I hate you,” she mutters under her breath, her voice shaky.

His grin returns, and he tilts his head, finally looking at her again. His gaze is dark, heated, and he looks entirely pleased with himself. “No, you don’t,” says Lando, so sure of himself.

It’s a miracle she doesn’t combust on the spot.

Because he's right — she doesn't hate him, she hates the fact that they're in public and she's incredibly turned on, but there's nothing she can do about it.

Finally, she can breathe normally when he withdraws his hand from between her legs, just as casually as he’d started. Her body is still buzzing with the lingering traces of his touch as she places her hand lightly on Lando’s shoulder. Slowly, she rises from her seat, her fingers squeezing just enough to send him a silent message only he’d understand.

At that, Lando’s heart stutters for a beat, his mouth suddenly dry as he watches her glide gracefully toward the bathrooms. The way her dress hugs her curves doesn’t help the growing situation in his pants — it’s like she knows exactly what she’s doing to him, a small punishment for what just happened between them. He tries to act like he's not affected, emptying his glass of champagne while his eyes turn back to the table, but his focus is scattered.

His hand still tingles from touching her under the table, and now he’s left to deal with the knowledge that his teasing had gotten to her.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Minutes tick by, though they feel like an eternity.

Lando finds himself forcing a laugh at something Oscar says, remembering how impossibly talkative his teammate gets when he has a few drinks on board. He shifts in his seat, trying to mask his growing anticipation, but she’s all he can think about. His fingers drum against his empty glass, the weight of the moment making it almost impossible to sit still.

Then, his phone buzzes inside his pocket, her name lighting up the screen.

He doesn’t need to answer to know it’s just a diversion, and she’s not waiting for a conversation, either — she’s just giving him an out.

Lando clears his throat, “Sorry, I have to take this,” he says, giving the table an apologetic smile, as he pushes back his chair and making his way out of the dining area with purpose.

His heart pounds in his chest as he walks toward the bathroom, careful not to seem too rushed, but acutely aware of the tension building inside his body with each step he takes.

The hallway leading to the bathrooms is quieter, lined with soft, ambient lighting and artwork that screams understated luxury. He takes a turn, his steps slowing as he spots her standing in front of the mirror inside the women's restroom. The space itself is elegant, all marble countertops and gold fixtures, with sleek stalls and huge mirrors.

She’s touching up her lipstick, her purse resting next to her, the subtle curve of her smile betraying the fact that she knows he’s behind her. Lando approaches slowly, his footsteps soft against the polished tile. When he’s close enough, his hands settle on her waist, his touch firm yet familiar as he pulls her closer.

“There you are,” he says, his voice low and full of heat. “Worried about your makeup when it’s just going to smudge off you anyway?”

Her smile turns into a smirk as she meets his gaze in the mirror. “God, you’re the worst,” she teases, her tone light but laced with something more intimate.

Lando chuckles while she turns in his arms. Her hands slide up his chest, her touch lingering as she looks up at him, her eyes dark with intent.

“Are you sure it can’t wait until we get back to the hotel?” asks Lando, even though he already knows the answer, because he knows the look she has painted all over her face very well.

Her lips brush against his cheek in a warm, lingering kiss before her breath tickles his ear. “Baby, that's hours away.”

She intertwines her fingers with his, and leads him to one of the stalls at the end of the bathroom. The space is just as luxurious as the rest of the venue — tall wooden doors that reach from ceiling to floor, polished brass locks, and a sense of privacy that makes it feel more like a secluded room than a bathroom stall. As soon as they step inside, the door locks with a soft click, and every ounce of restraint disappears.

Lando’s lips are on hers instantly, hot and demanding, his hands already traveling to the hem of her dress. There’s no time to waste, with all those people back at the table who could realize at any moment that it is no coincidence that they are both missing at the same time.

His hands slide up her thighs, pushing the fabric of her dress higher until he reaches the thin band of her panties. His fingers slip beneath the lace, tugging them down in one swift motion before his hand returns, sliding between her legs and finding her completely soaked.

“Fuck,” he hisses, his forehead resting against hers as his fingers dip into her heat. “All this from a bit of touching?”

Her breath comes out in a shaky laugh as she clutches his shirt. “No,” she whispers, “All this from watching you on that stage, sitting next to you the entire night, seeing how people were cheering for you — and then from a bit of touching.”

A cocky smirk tugs at Lando’s lips. “That so?” he asks, pressing a finger into her, his pace measured as he stretches her slowly.

She gasps, her head falling back against the door, and he takes the opportunity to kiss her neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. A second finger joins the first, curling inside her as his thumb circles her clit, making her see stars.

Her hands, trembling with anticipation, move to his belt, fumbling for a moment before she pushes his pants down just enough to free his hardened cock. Her touch is soft at first, her fingers wrapping around him and stroking slowly, making his jaw clench.

She looks up at him, her lips curving into a teasing smile as she echoes his earlier words. “All this from touching me under the table?”

“Shut up,” he growls, grabbing her thigh and hitching it around his hip. His cock presses against her entrance, teasing her as he slides the tip through her slick folds.

“You shut up, and fuck me already,” she says, her voice thick with desire.

He doesn’t need to be told twice. With one swift thrust, he buries himself inside her, both of them gasping at the full sensation. The stretch is so sweet and perfect, and he pauses for just a moment, letting her adjust before pulling back and thrusting again, harder this time. Her back presses against the door, the cool wood contrasting with the heat of his body as he sets a relentless pace, in and out of her tight pussy. His hands grip her thighs, spreading her wider for him as he drives into her, each movement hungrier than the previous.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Lando groans, his lips brushing against her ear. “Perfectly thight around me, baby. Always so sweet and eager, aren’t you?”

She clings to him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he angles his hips, hitting a spot that has her biting back a cry. “Lan,” she breathes, her voice shaky and full of need, while trying to mimic his rapid movements.

“That’s it,” he encourages her, his voice rough as his fingers dig into her hips. “Let them hear you, baby. Let everybody know how well you take my cock.”

Her head falls on his shoulder as he thrusts deeper, harder, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside her. The tension coils tighter and tighter in her belly, her body trembling as she teeters on the edge.

“Lando, fuck,” she moans wetly into his shoulder, feeling her pussy clenching around his length. “Shit, baby. Yes, don’t stop.”

As he buries himself so deep inside her, Lando realizes that's what he wants to do for the rest of the evening — the rest of his life, as a matter of fact. His lips part as he feels her walls twitching around him, making him — if that's even possible — even harder for her. His breaths come out in spasms, letting out a small cry of pleasure as his chest crashes against hers violently.

Sensing that she’s so close, Lando’s hand ends up slipping between their bodies to rub her clit in time with his thrusts. “Come on, baby. Let me feel you.”

“Are you—oh, fuck,” she tries to speak, but all her thoughts are focused on how good he makes her feel.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lando assures her, “Right behind you, love.”

It only takes a few more thrusts before she shatters around him, her walls clenching hard as her orgasm washes over her. Her moans are muffled against his neck as he continues to fuck her through her release, chasing his own high. His movements grow erratic, sloppier, his grip on her tightening as he finally lets go, spilling into her with a low, guttural moan.

For a moment, they can’t hear anything else except the soft whir of ventilation and their labored breathing. Their bodies stay pressed tightly together as the echoes of their pleasure lingers in the small space.

Her chest heaves against his as she exhales shakily, her lips brushing his neck, then up his jaw in a silent thank you.

Lando smiles, slowly pulling out of her, his cock still hard and sensitive from his release. She shudders at the sudden emptiness, but before she can speak, his hand slips between her thighs again. His fingers slide inside, pushing some of his cum and their mingled release back into her.

“Lando,” she gasps, her body clenching instinctively around his fingers.

His breath falls hot against her skin. “Gotta make sure you feel it all night.”

Her cheeks flush at his words, and she bites her lip, torn between glaring at him and melting into his touch. He strokes her lazily, savoring the way her body responds to him even now.

“Insane behavior, Norris,” she exhales sharply, finally looking up at him.

“My brand,” he smirks back at her. “But what about you, hm?” he asks, his tone soft, but teasing as his eyes rake over her wrecked expression. “Going back knowing you’re filled up so good?”

She rolls her eyes at him, but the heat in her gaze betrays her. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You love it,” he quips, fixing a strand of her hair and then kissing her deeply one last time.

She smiles against his lips, brushing her thumb over his mouth to wipe away the faint smudge of her lipstick. Then, leaning up, she presses a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “Don’t take too long, champ.”

With that, she exits the stall, glancing once in the mirror to make sure she looks composed, and collecting her purse before heading back to the table.

When she returns to her seat, the conversation flows just as before, no one paying much attention to her absence beyond a polite glance. Her heart pounds in her chest, the sensation of being so intimately connected to Lando still fresh in her mind as she settles into her chair. She picks up her glass of champagne, finishing it in one go, her hands steady despite the warmth still coursing through her body — and the wetness between her legs.

A few minutes later, Lando comes back, his phone pressed to his ear as he pretends to be mid-conversation. His expression is casual, his voice light as he murmurs something unintelligible before slipping his phone back into his pocket and taking his seat.

But as soon as he sits down, Oscar’s eyes narrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Lando catches the look, frowning slightly as he tilts his head. “What?” he asks silently, his expression confused.

Oscar doesn’t answer, instead he points directly at Lando’s bowtie, which is noticeably crooked.

Lando’s eyes widen as he glances down, and straightens it as casually as he can, his cheeks turning faintly pink.

“It's windy outside,” Lando mutters under his breath, low enough that only Oscar can hear.

His teammate just grins knowingly, leaning back in his chair. “Whatever you say, mate.”

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[mariasont]

can you do a story where hotch accidentally calls Y/N by her middle name and the rest of the bau are like "👁️👄👁️ who's (insert name)?" and then a cute or fluffy moment happens where Y/N's like "oh yeah only hotch calls me that" PLS PLS PLSSSS

SECRET NICKNAMES - A.H

a/n: the emojis are so accurate im crying you know that’s exactly how they reacted 😭 but loved loved loved writing this one. slightly self indulgent because my middle name is grace <3

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: just sticky sweet fluff & morgan being an instigator but what’s new!!

wc: 0.9k

It had been a long day. The conference room was a mess. It kind of resembled a battlefield of ideas and failed theories. Evidence photos lay in uneven stacks, some forgotten at the edges of the table while others remained underlined with question marks and red ink. The faint scratch of a pen and the occasional sigh were the only sounds. It was late, and exhaustion was beginning to creep in. Eyes drooped, postures sagged, but no one had yet dared to suggest calling it a night yet. 

You leaned back slowly, your chair tilting just enough to let you stretch your arms above your head. The weariness in your muscles felt almost tangible, meshing into every joint like a weight you let go of. Across from you, Hotch stood still as a statue, his arms crossed and gaze cutting through the evidence board.

"Alright, enough for tonight," he finally said firmly. "We'll reconvene tomorrow at 7:00 a.m. sharp."

The team didn't need to be told twice, practically jumping to their feet. Papers were scooped up, pens clicked shut, and chairs scraped back as everyone made their way out. But before you could slip away, Hotch's voice rang out, cutting cleanly through the room.

"Grace, can I see you for a moment?"

The team froze mid-movement. Morgan glanced over one shoulder, one brow raised, while Garcia’s head popped up from where she was stacking papers, lips parting in confusion. Reid, already halfway to the door, paused and turned, tilting his head like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t have all the pieces to.

JJ blinked, mouth “Grace?” to herself, clearly trying to place the name.

Emily squinted slightly before giving voice to what everyone was thinking. “Who’s Grace?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for an explanation as your eyes darted to Hotch, who seemed oblivious to the chaos he had just cause. Typical man.

Clearing your throat, you forced a sheepish smile.

“That would be me,” you admitted, lifting a hand awkwardly. “Grace is my middle name. Surprise!”

The room remained suspiciously quiet, and you could practically feel the questions they all were about to voice.

“Hotch calls me that sometimes,” you added quickly, somehow able to keep your voice semi-light despite the burn in your cheeks. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, this is interesting,” Morgan said, leisurely sinking back into his chair with folded arms.

JJ squinted. “Is this some sort of secret nickname situation?”

Emily raised a brow. “Does this happen often? Hotch calling you Grace?”

“So, Grace,” Morgan drawled, clearly enjoying himself. “Care to explain why Hotch gets to call you that? Special privileges or—,”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” you cut in, your voice cracked and it was unfortunately too loud to come off as anything but defensive. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal. He just—he just does sometimes, okay?”

“Oh it’s a big deal,” Garcia cut in dramatically. “What else don’t we know about you two?”

“Alright, enough.” Hotch cut in finally, shaking his head. “I told you all to go home. So go.”

Morgan made it halfway to the door before turning back.

“Y’know Hotch, if you wanted us out so bad, you could’ve just said it earlier. No need for the theatrics. We get it—‘Grace’ needs your undivided attention.”

Garcia gasped. “Morgan, you can’t just say that!”

But the damage was done, and the team left in a flurry of giggles and teasing comments, leaving you standing there, flustered and glaring at Hotch.

The second the door closed, you whirled around and smacked his shoulder.

“What was that for?”

“You know what that was for,” you said, crossing your arms. “Calling me Grace in front of them? Do you want me to be interrogated?”

His faint smile broke through. “It wasn’t intentional.

You shot him another glare which only served to turn that smile of his into a full blown laugh.

“I’m sorry, honey,” he said, corners of his eyes crinkling. “I wasn’t thinking—it’s the sleep deprevation.”

Before you could respond, he reached out, gently grabbing your face and smooshing your cheeks together. You were sure you resembled a fish, brows drawn, trying to remain scowling at him, but the position made it hard.

“Truce?” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you.

Your resolve crumbled the second his lips touched yours (It always did). The warmth of his touch practically seemed into your skin, and your muscles melted against him like butter in the sun. When he pulled back you stared up at him, dazed and breathless, trying to remember why you were mad.

“That was—,” You cleared your throat, fighting to ridiculous smile threatening to appear. “You can’t just do that to avoid getting in trouble.”

“Did it work?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “I’ll think about it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, pretending to weigh your options with the seriousness of someone deciding on a life-or-death matter.

“Alright,” you said slowly, drawing out each word. “I’ve thought about it.”

Grasping the lapels of his suit jacket, you pulled him down to you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that left no room for argument. When you pulled back, his smirk was still in place but his eyes were softer now and filled with something you couldn’t quite place.

“But don’t think this gets you off the hook next time.”

He chuckled. “Noted.”

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[fifty555]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ mimosas? no, marriage!

welcome back lovers to the continuation of your little love with mr. norris 🧡!

content warning; nothing much, just scattered explicit language here and there — used a lot pinterest photos though.

summary; after that fateful dinner post-silverstone ‘23, life went on with you and lando.

here’s part one!

landonorris

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landonorris welp, let’s hope she doesn’t lose the ring in wet clays anytime soon 😇

to think that this all started because of a packet of gummy bears, i love you mrs. norris yourusername 🧡

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yourusername and i love you, mr. norris 💞!

landonorris im her husband guys 🤭

username may this kind of love find me ✋🏻

mclaren congratulations to our power couple 🥂!

jensonbutton and little lando norris isn’t so little anymore, congratulations to the beautiful couple ❤️.

lewishamilton congrats mate! wishing you two all the best, enjoy the ride!

oscarpiastri best hard launch of the season

username yes oscar, we can tell lando probably blurted it out to you first to bcs he was so excited

yourusername precisely ☺️

username HAHAHAH-

danielricciardo and we thought he’d be single for the rest of his life too 😔 congrats though 🥳

username THE FACT THAT YALL WERE AT HIS WEDDING TOO

landonorris tell me abt it 🙄 ungrateful asses 🙃

username con 😭 grat 😭 ula 😭 tions

carlosainz55 he finally found a girl- sorry, wife you guys!!

username our condolences carlos, your wag chose an even cooler person, sorry 😔🙏🏻

yourusername yes, says the man who was shitting tears whilst lando read his vows to ME 😍

alex_albon wait, we thought you’d take her last name??

landonorris … she’s only a few inches taller than me

georgerussell63 what’s your exact excuse really? shes older than you too

landonorris BY A YEAR 😭

username THE WAY HIS OWN FRIENDS R CLOCMIG BBIM ON HIS WEDDING POST CMON 😭😭😭

username EXACTLY 💀

—

September 10th, 2023 — Wedding Day

It was the day that you had dreamed of for as long as you could remember, yet nothing could truly prepare you for the flood of emotions that rushed over you as you stood there, facing Lando at the altar. He was grinning like a giddy schoolboy, as if the world had stopped just for you two. The sunlight poured in through the grand windows of the venue, casting a golden glow around him, making everything feel surreal.

You never imagined your wedding day would look like this, but standing before him, with the life you’d built together in the background, it was perfect.

“I do,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath.

“I do,” Lando echoed, his voice full of love and certainty, his hand gripping yours as if nothing else mattered.

—

yourusername

Liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and others

yourusername yes, i got married to a man who drives a papaya coloured car 🥰 i love your mr norris landonorris

i’ll try my best not to lose the ring 😬

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username CONGRATULATIONS TO THE BEST CERAMIST AND HER PAPAYA GUY 🥂

charles_leclerc congrats to lando and démone 🥳

yourusername why thank you chicken 🥰

username NOT HIM CALLJNG HER A DEMON— whats the story here 💀⁉️

username apparently she used to terrorise him on the karting tracks when they were kids 🤠 hence the name demon ✋🏻

yourusername and he used to squabble like a chicken when he lost, so hence the name chicken ❤️

maxverstappen1 congrats!! still cant believe you guys were together and managed to keep it from us of all people 🙏🏻

sebastianvettel congratulations to the happy couple 💐!

yourusername thank you so much for the flowers, seb 🥹💞

kimimattiasraikkonen ❤️

username i absolutely love how the only chaotic comment is from charles while the others r congratulating her

username the stark difference from landos comments r killing me 💀

georgerussell63 you shouldve threatened him into taking your surname 😔 yours sounds way cooler

yourusername yknow what they said, we have to prioritise the little ones ☺️

danielricciardo youre too generous babes

username 💀💀💀✋🏻

landonorris … MY OWN WIFE GANGING UP ON ME

carlossainz55 ill crash your honeymoon ❤️

yourusername alexa, play the other woman by lana del rey 😇

username OH FFIHT FIGBT DIFB

username “there were three of us in this marriage” 💀💀

landonorris GUYS SHES MY WIFE NOW YAAAYY

yourusername 🧡🧡🧡

—

May 5th, 2024 - The Miami Grand Prix.

The moment everyone had been waiting for. Your heart raced as you watched Lando on your phone from your hotel room, feeling that familiar tension in the air as he crossed the finish line.

You weren’t there. And it broke you.

But there was a reason. You had been told to rest, to stay in bed, and most of all, to take it easy during the pregnancy’s more delicate stages. You hated that you couldn’t be there — you hated that you couldn’t be the one to throw your arms around him as he celebrated. But you knew Lando. He would be okay. He had this.

When the podium ceremony came, you were watching it all unfold on the screen, your hands clutched to your chest as you saw the familiar flash of cameras and heard the roar of the crowd. Lando was beaming, trophy in hand.

And then, with a wink, he pulled out his phone. A post.

You gasped, tears welling in your eyes as you took in the words. You were so proud. But more than anything, you were over the moon with joy. The world now knew: the Norris family was growing.

landonorris

Liked by zakbrownceo, danielricciardo and others

landonorris WWE FUCKIJG DID IT. P1 🏆 also, swipe for a lil’ surprise, thanks to everyone but especially my girls at home ❤️

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username DILF LANDO UNLOCKED????!!

username GIRLDAD LANDO IH MY GOD

f1 p1 and a baby girl on the way 🥳

username CONGRATS LANDAD 🌟🌟🌟

username baby norris on the way!!

username DIBS ON GODPARENT

username EY BACK OFF 🤺🤺

username NO YALL BACK OFF 🤺

—

yourusername

September 3rd, 2024

After months of preparation, late-night baby name debates, and countless check-ups, it was finally here. The moment you’d been waiting for. Your baby girl was on her way.

Lando was by your side through it all, his hand never leaving yours. Every contraction, every breath, he was there. His excitement was contagious, his nervousness endearing, and you could see the future unfolding right before your eyes. He was ready for this. You both were.

The room was a whirlwind of movement, but in that chaos, there was peace. There was love. And there were you two, together — now, with a little one in your arms.

When she finally arrived, you felt like you were holding the world in your hands. She was perfect. Small, wriggly, with a little tuft of dark hair and tiny fingers that gripped yours immediately.

You and Lando shared a quiet, overwhelmed smile.

“I love you,” Lando whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “And I love her. Our little girl.”

You nodded, your heart full. “She’s perfect, Lan.”

—

landonorris and yourusername

Liked by f1, mclaren, carlossainz55 and others

landonorris the best parts of us came together in you, and now our hearts are full in ways we didn’t think possible. eden norris, edie, you are the most beautiful blessing to mummy and daddy. welcome to the world, sweet girl ❤️.

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Edie became the center of your universe. Life was a little more chaotic, a little more unpredictable — but it was beautiful. Lando would rush back from the race weekends just to kiss you and hold Edie close. The little girl, just two weeks old, had already captured his heart in a way that made you fall in love with him all over again.

You were a family now.

And although things had changed in ways you couldn’t have imagined, there was one thing that stayed constant: Lando’s love for you, for her, for this new life you were building together.

It wasn’t always easy. There were sleepless nights, endless bottles, and days where you felt like you were running on fumes. But you never once doubted that this, right here, was everything you had always dreamed of.

The world watched as Lando took the podium again, this time at the Singapore Grand Prix, the first race after Edie’s birth. You were there, cheering him on from the pit, Edie sleeping soundly in your arms. It was almost like a full circle moment: from wedding day to fatherhood, from your first win to this.

But this? This was your biggest victory yet. And as you watched Lando embrace his daughter for the first time in front of millions of people, you couldn’t help but think:

This was just the beginning.

soooo, SORRY FOR THE DELAY 😭✋🏻

y’all, i’m still emotionally recovering from the fact that max is going to be a father, so— this one is a bit half assed but i plan on re-editing some things when i get over this ☹️.

anywhos, i hope you all had a wonderful holiday and merry christmas to those who celebrate, hope y’all ate lots of good meals 😋!

i’m lowkey dipping my toes into smau as well so please be nice 😞✨.

anywho, please enjoy this lowkey dumpster fire 😛!!!

[m0chisenpai]

Could you consider doing a fwb reader who refuses to be with them because she thinks that they are so toxic (but they are pinning over her HARD because i like my men obsessive over me)

(also i said "they" because i didnt knew who to pick 😭 but this just screams lestat or armand)

The hunt

˚｡⋆ lestat de lioncourt x black!fem!reader x armand

in which neither lestat nor armand can keep their eyes off box one

You joined the theatre after watching your maker burn to a crisp. Truth be told you would have done him in yourself had they not stepped in. He was ancient and delirious, you were a pretty face plucked from the slums.Wrong place at the wrong time led you to several years of torture shackled to his side. You posed as his distant relative, some nights you were his niece, other's his heiress bastard.

And in return you lived a comfortable life of luxuries. It was bearable, you no longer had to scrape for food or warmth nor shelter. Yet none of that mattered did it?

Though you had to bear his unwarranted advances, his unwanted pet names, it all made your skin crawl. Sharing his bed was a rare occassion, but you made sure he was drunk on blood to manage those nights better. Anything to satiate his loneliness and perserve the little dignity you had left.

Tonight he said he needed to attend to his affairs, leaving you to explore the city. A rare treat that you savored in all of its glory. You made unnecessary purchases on his account. New gowns, shoes and fans, head pieces for the upcoming season and gatherings to come. You drained the dressmaker, a fop, and made arrangements with a singer of the opera for the next night.

When you arrived to your Paris manor to find it in shambles and the man burning amidst it all, all you could do was sigh and use his flames to light the cigarette while you watched him turned to ash. Perhaps you were dizzy from the two you consumed, but you felt like you were on a cloud. As though you were outside of your body watching him crymble to dust.

You hardly flinched when the carriage boy screamed for help, at least you asume it was for help he was speaking in french.

What were you to do now? His accounts were already settled in my name, but I liked this home. Now I'll have to replace my belongings, find new lodging, how burdensome.

"Your maker is no more fledgling," his presence startles you but you stand your ground against the elder now standing at your side. Honeyed eyes watching you concealed behind false glasses but he is amused by how you stand your ground. How you don't flinch as his children gorge themselves ont he carriage boy whose wails are quickly silenced.

"I can see," you tap the ashes into the flames. "I was not made aware more of us were in this world. He always as though we alone held the Gift." Arman's eyes train upon you, reading and looking through every memory. And he finds you are in fact right. Dragged into the manors chambers you are locked and groomed there until you cracked.

"Your maker like many wanted you in the dark, fledgling," his eyes soften as you nod. There is emptiness in your eyes, like you are here yet your mind is far away. "He violated the ancients laws, disrespected my coven and reaped the consequences of his choices. He was given multiple chances to make himself known and atone for his actions."

"Coven?" Now he has your attention. You step up to him careful if you were next on this vendetta. "He never told me about laws or covens. Just said to tell him if I saw any more of us in the shadows, he moved around a lot between his homes. I smelled them, but I was too bored to tell the pig."

He should have known. You shed not a single tear for your maker when his children descended upon the maddened vampire. All you could think of was no longer having to deal with him anymore. No longer were you forced to share his coffin, feel his disgusting hands. Armand felt your disgust, it churned his stomach of the images of your Maker.

He saw himself in your eyes. You and him were one in the same. Two broken souls forced into this life, yet you adapted well just as he. A hunger to learn more is clear in your thoughts. He holds his hand to you, "come. Join us. And I can guarantee you will not suffer the same fate."

You stare at his hand, discarding the cigarette next to you. "Will I truly?"

"Yes, come." There was a softness to his voice. You brought a nurturing side out to him he never knew was there. As he guided you back to the theatre, not once did his hand leave yours. You would spend the first night in his coffin, just in case he did try and kill you.

Armand presents you in front of the coven the following night. You found them off putting, but you would grow used to their presence. All eccentric and coy. From across the world and living many lifetimes. You would adapt just as you did when you were once human.

"Lestat De Lioncourt, one of our actors and founding members," you bow your head to him but he takes your hand in his pressing a kiss to your hand.

"Will this beauty be joining us on stage Armand?"

"No, she will observe with me for the time being until she finds her place and completes her intiation."

The blonde groans looking upon you with a twinkle in those blue eyes, "Ah maitre, it is sin to hide such a beautiful face." He flashes you a cheeky smile which you quickly brush aside, merely offering him a nonchalant tilt of your head. "You would do good to perform on the stage sweet one. The crowds will be in compete awe."

"And I hope you put that charm to use on stage Mr.Lioncourt" you retort stepping back beside Armand. "And you'd do well to keep your hands to yourself, surely your master taught you that?"

"You have a bite in you fledgling, don't lose it."

French boys. You can only shake your head turning on your heel.

They were all the same. Flowery words, thoughts of lust and poetry. Philosophy. But this blonde beauty, this one was different. No thoughts of heaven or hell, evil and good. No his thoughts intrigued you. A hedonistic vampire, he was different from the prudish man you grew beneath.

Perhaps this French boy would appease your appetites.

The first year you find yourself being a production assistant of some sort to Armand. You have your own quarters in the theatre. Filled with your gowns, jewels, your riches. You offer him input in changes, or adjusting scenery in his scripts when need be. Always sitting in box one of the performances, eyes watching yet your hand moves quickly at anything that is the slightest bit off.

He won't admit it out loud but he felt you were the fledgling he was meant to make. Not your old maker.

His affections grew into something else. Was it romantic? No, vampires felt more than just human emotion. This was supernatural. Primal. As he sat in the box, he watched your gaze upon Lestat. You sat up straighter eyes wide with pride and excitement. One of the rare moments where your hand was still.

He wanted you to look at him like that.

"He's off script again," Armand clicks his tongue, he looks over to you. He's expectant that you will agree as you did any other night.

"Yes, but don't you think it sounds better this way. Less boring if you ask me. Let the sweet French boy have this night."

"It would had he done it during rehearsals." His eyes watch as your fiddle with the cuffs of your gown. He takes your hand into his own, now he has your eyes which look up at him.

"Yes?"

"Nothing, I just wanted your eyes for a moment fledgling."

"Are you growing soft Armand?" You smirk up at him, sitting up and tilting your head as to suggest you were to kiss him which he anticipates.

"The next act is starting, maitre," you whisper situating yourself to watch the performance. His eyes open, looking now to the stage, where Lestat bows smirking up at the box as you stand to join the applause.

You pace back and forth in front of Lestat who reads from his script. The coven look as dead as their hearts, the poor diva couldn’t get his line. He had been slacking lately as death, and he needed to improve for the upcoming performance.

You wouldn’t admit it, but he played death well. He was as vicious as death. But you needed death to have romance to it. Death was as beautiful as he was fearsome. We all must face it, it steals, it seduces, but int he end Death never leaves epty handed. Hence, why you believe Lestat plays death well.

"Come now Lestat as though you are in love!" Armand exclaims. He reads the line again but it sounds more...harsh than loving. You can see it upon the woman who steps in as your victim for the night. Her lip is turned up similar to your own. Poor thing, you shake your head now standing to your feet to approach the stage.

"Lestat surely you bedded enough women to know how to speak sweet love. Speak as though you wish to lure her, to drink her lust and her blood." You look up at him, he looks down upon you and in one big swoop pulls you to the stage by your free arm.

"My bounty is as boundless as the sea," he whispers it tenderly, his hand cups your cheek the other still holding the script in hand though his eyes are trained upon yours.

"My love as deep; the more I give to thee. The more I have, for both are infinite." He is closer now, head tilted as though he were to lay a passionate kiss upon your lips. "How was that, sweet one?"

"Better, now do it with your bride of death tonight." You whisper using your hands to push away from your chest. Walking past him into the wings hoping that he did not see the moment of vulnerability in your eyes.

Armand can't help but watch as you write at your desk, beside the new set of perfumes and fans he recently gifted you. Though you affectionately treasure the fountain pen he had your initials engraved upon. He watches your lips move slowly with the words on the pages. Your French has improved with his assistance. But you slip up, speaking in poor dialect as he calls it.

Poor dialect does not suit beautiful lips he tells you over and over. Therefore he takes it upon himself to spend the few moments before the sun rises reading with you.

He feels a presence all too familiar behind him and fights the snarl on his lips and he doesn't need to turn his head to know who now stands behind him.

"Shouldn't you be practicing your lines, puce."

"My apologies maitre," Lestat speaks in false humility bowing his head. "I wished to practice them with-"

"Unnecessary. I will be speaking with her regarding the performances and coven matters. Check with one of the children, surely another can play your bride well enough.”

“Ahh yes,” Lestat hums with that boyish grin. Taking a bold step to stand beside Armand, who continues to watch your hand move with quickness across one of his scripts.

They don’t know, but you listen. You hear their thoughts and voices from outside of your door. Desires to have you as their own. You know it. Felt it the moment both men entered your lives.

But no longer will you be held captive by another man’s desires. No, the fates of their hearts shall be in the palm of your hand this time. You have tasted freedom and felt what control has felt for once. Who were you to let it slip from your fingers now? You give them your eyes looking at them both now.

You smile, Lestat happily returns it. Armand merely bows his head to enter. He clearly has told Lestat something because he is gone in an instant.

For now, you’ll indulge them. Let them think they are winning. It’s fun when your food is unaware. That is what Armand tells you during one of your hunts. It makes the blood sweeter, and the hunt more invigorating.

Thus begins the hunt.

[sluttysnowangel666]

The Woman Beyond the Wall

Cregan Stark x Wilding!Fem reader

Summary: Cregan must go beyond the wall to aid Castle Black after a large group of Nights Watch men are killed under strange circumstances, only for him to discover the “strange circumstance” is a beautiful and mysterious wilding woman that will make him forget everything he thought he knew.

not proof read yet!!

cw: angst, smut, dom fem reader, dom cregan, freaky cregan, reader is kind of odd 😭

word count: long af

part 2 , masterlist

⛫ ⛫ ⛫

Cregan sat, contemplating the decision before him.

“Forgive me, sirs. The kingdom greatly appreciates the sacrifice you men have made to serve the Nights Watch, but I cannot abandon my duties as a lord to go beyond the wall for Gods knows how long.” He tells them, hoping they won’t take offense to his declination to participate.

“We wouldn’t ask if we were not desperate, my lord.” The maester says, “But 15 men have disappeared just in this past exhibition. The Nights Watch grows scarce of fighters the more men beyond the wall continue to disappear.”

Cregan sighs, not wanting to go beyond the wall and leave his kingdom without a lord, but also not wanting to leave the Watch vulnerable.

“Alright, Maester Devron.” Cregan sighs, “We owe you men a great debt… I need to know what are these strange circumstances you speak of?”

“Men have reported finding the abandoned bodies with arrows in both their eyes, perfectly positioned every time. It’s rather… unusual how perfectly calculated the shot is. It never changes. Then, the bodies are positioned in circles, with no footsteps left behind. We fear it to be witching.”

A shiver ran up Cregan’s spine, but he hid it well. Witches were almost always stories told by Septs to children in an attempt to get them to behave, so to hear a maester say it was unnerving.

“Don’t be ridiculous, maester.”

“I am not jesting, my lord. When you find the group of men who disappeared only a fortnight ago, you’ll see.”

“When? Not if? How can you be so sure I’ll find them?” Cregan asks.

“She leaves them in the same place every time. About 20 miles beyond the wall, facing north.” The maester says.

Cregan sighs, already frustrated with the venture, and eager to kill a wildling.

———

3 days later, 15 miles beyond the wall, and alone in the blistering cold, Cregan couldn’t help but contemplate his decision. Although he was miserable, he knew it was the honorable thing to do. He wouldn’t have done it, if otherwise.

His horse stopped suddenly, its hair raising and body becoming stiff.

“Dusk.” He said her name. “Move.”

His horse ignored him, standing her ground. “Dusk!” He yelled at her.

She sensed something, but he didn’t know what.

They sat there for what felt like hours, but what was merely seconds.

Finally, the horse began to tredge forward… very, very, slowly. Cregan groaned in frustration, his hands gripping the reins.

They walked like that for miles. No matter how much Cregan tugged the reins, Dusk maintained her slow pace, as if anticipating something was nearby, ready to pounce on them at any given moment.

Night eventually came, and Cregan was forced to set up camp.

“Bloody horse.” He mumbled to himself as he tied her to a nearby tree.

He set up a fire nearby Dusk, then leaned against the tree she was tied to. He fidgeted with the dagger he kept in his armor, carving little dire wolves in the bark. He spoke to Dusk, hoping the already timid horse would comfort his feeling of isolation in the barren icy landscape. It didn’t help.

He eventually fell asleep standing up, leaning his weight against the tree, too on edge to leave himself vulnerable on the ground.

The fire near him had gone out, leaving nothing but the red glowing embers.

The wildling who had been following them for miles used this to her advantage.

She stalked quietly, her boots making no noise or crunch as if she weren’t even there, floating like a ghost.

She made no attempt to immediately kill him, but kept her bow poised, ready to grab an arrow and fly it into his eye if he woke. Normally, any crow out here would’ve been dead miles ago, but this man wasn’t a crow.

She believed him to be a lord, and when her fingers grazed the dire wolf on his chest she knew him to be a Stark. Excitement fueled the fire burning in her veins. She had never seen a lord, especially one so handsome.

Her fingers twirled one of his brown locks, but when he shuffled in his sleep she quickly backed away like a scared bunny.

She decided she would let the cold kill the handsome man, but not before taking a souvenir to remember him.

Her slim, dainty fingers wove into his furs, silently snagging the dagger strapped to his chest. She twirled it in her fingers, admiring the craftsmanship. No smith she had ever met was as talented as the one who made this dagger. She traced the wolf sigil on the handle, then ran the sharp tip of the blade along her finger. A drop of blood hit the snow in front of their feet, and then she ran, snow immediately falling to cover her tracks.

When Cregan awoke, he immediately knew someone had been in the camp. But, how? How could someone have even passed through without him waking?

He looked down, and picked up the snow with the drop of blood on it. His blood immediately ran cold, colder than it already was. There were no footprints. Where could this have even come from?

He checked himself, but was free of any cuts. It was here he noticed… his dagger.

“What in Gods…” He mumbled, feeling all around his body to make sure he hadn’t misplaced it.

He angrily yells into the trees, cursing and violently threatening the woman who stole his dagger, hoping she heard him.

And she does. She quietly giggles in a nearby tree at his brutish behavior. He kicks the burnt wood from the fire, startling his horse.

He mounts the horse, slowly trekking onward to find the bodies of the missing men.

Within the hour, he finds himself at the base of the men’s camp, their bodies positioned like how the maester said they would be.

Cregan sighs, dismounting his horse and staring at the corpses, their bodies frozen and not yet decomposed from the harsh cold.

He was, for the first time in his life, unsure of what to do. He knew the woman had already found him, but how was he to find her? He assumed she left him alive out of mercy, but he knew there was no chance of finding her unless she wanted him to.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, slightly embarrassed at his desperation. “Alright, witch! I know you’re out there!” He yelled into the trees, not actually knowing if she was out there.

She was, and she paid attention as he continued.

“I don’t know your goal, if you even have one!” He paused, not even knowing what else to say. “Stop killing these men!” He said, lacking in confidence. She giggled again. Quite an entertaining man he was.

He gave up, tired of feeling foolish. He began dragging the bodies into a pile, preparing to burn them. It took nearly half of his day, and when he was done he finally sat, sweating, despite the cold.

After his brief rest, he burnt them, saying the custom words, “And now their watch is ended.”

He watched, silently mourning the fallen men who gave their life.

Afterwards, he mounted his horse and started his journey back to the wall. There would be no finding the woman. She was rogue, didn’t run in a pack. He’d be searching for the rest of his life if he stayed.

He didn’t make it far, only a few miles before night fell upon him and his horse. He didn’t want to rest, but he had no choice. The day had worn him, and traveling at night was unwise when he couldn’t see his surroundings.

He set a fire again, and sat down, forcing himself to stay awake.

Suddenly, his horse whined. He whipped his head around, standing to his feet quickly.

“Whoa, whoa. Calm down.” He said, trying to shush the mare. The horse bucked, breaking its reins from the tree before scurrying off.

“Fuck!” Cregan cursed, angrily. What in Gods names was he to do now?

A voice rang out behind him.

“Pretty little beast you’ve got there.”

He whipped around again, unsheathing his sword.

A woman knelt across the fire, her bow and arrow already drawn. She wore gray, thick pelts and gloves, and a pair of fur clad boots. No wonder she was so silent. She pulled her thick hood off, revealing the most beautiful set of eyes Cregan had ever seen. The woman was gorgeous, ethereal. She literally took his breath away.

“Suppose I should say had there.” She teases.

“It’s you.” He finally says, after a moment of silence.

“Mm.” She hums in response. “And who might you be?”

“I think you already know, given you raided my camp last night.”

She laughs. “Raided? You southerners.”

“You’d do well to mind your tongue, witch.” Cregan spits at her, tightening his grip on his sword.

She notices and stands, raising her bow, “And you’d do well to mind yours, crow.”

“I’m not a crow.”

“And I’m not a witch.” She pauses, tilting her head. “Sharp little tongue on you. Ain’t you lords supposed to treat ladies with respect?”

“What kind of lady are you? Killing good men and desecrating their bodies?”

“I never desecrated them. In fact, I left them better than I found them.”

“Those were noble men.”

“Please.” She laughs. “Those crows were rapists and thieves. The north is better without them coming into our land.”

Cregan says nothing, so she continues. “I suggest you watch how you speak to me, Lord Stark. I could shoot this arrow right through those pretty gray eyes before you’d even realize what happened.”

“Try it, witch.”

“I already told you. I’m no witch!” She lets the arrow fly, only intending to let it kiss his ear and hit the tree behind him, but he raises his sword, and the arrow shatters against the Valyrian steel.

She lowers her bow, shocked, before her features return to their stoic form.

“It appears I’ve met my match.” She smirks, impressed.

“Perhaps you have. For that reason, I’d suggest returning my dagger.”

She pulls it out. “Oh, this pretty thing? I think I’ll keep it… Unless you’re brave enough to come take it from me.”

Heat flushed through his stomach. For the first time in his life, a woman repeatedly left him at a loss for words. He did not know how to approach her, or how to respond.

“You obviously walk these woods often. How do I get back to the wall?”

“Simple.” She smiles, “South.”

Cregan stomps towards her. She nervously laughs, backing into a tree as he presses himself against her, his height towering above her own.

“Show me the way or I’ll put your pretty little head above my mantel.”

She breathlessly chuckles, “All you have to do is ask nicely, Stark.” She places her hand on his broad chest, giving it a light push yet keeping her hands entangled in his armor straps. He grabs her wrist, pulling it from him. He removes her quiver from her back, tossing it on the ground. He takes her bow from her other hand, going to give it the same treatment before she stops him.

“No, wait, please don’t leave my bow.” She asks, genuineness in her voice for the first time. He searches her eyes, but finds no answer there.

“You won’t need it where you’re going.” He responds.

“Leave my bow and you’ll die in these woods. And trust me, southerner, you’ll die long before I do.” He looks at the darkness that clouds her eyes, then grunts and puts the large bow around his body.

She smirks as he ties her wrists together, dragging her along behind him. “We’re going now? These woods aren’t safe at night.”

“The sooner you’re no longer my problem, the better.”

She stops in her place, but he gives her a yank that pulls her to the ground, dragging her body behind him. “I’m serious! We need to stay at your sad little camp.”

“One more word out of you and I’ll cut out your tongue.” He says. He takes a few more steps, still dragging her, before stopping. He knows she’s right, but refuses to admit it. He growls in frustration, turning back towards the camp.

She laughs, still being dragged on the ground. What a strange woman. He thinks to himself.

He sits back in front of the fire, still holding the rope attached to her wrist as she crawls towards him.

“Do you have any food?” She asks. He sighs, taking out a little sack of dried meat. He holds a piece out to her, and not moving from her knees, takes it from his hand with her mouth.

“You’re bloody off.” He mumbles to himself. She laughs, a strange and wicked laugh in an attempt to scare him, as well as mock him for thinking she was a witch.

It works, as it startles him into giving her a confused look. He picks up a big pile of snow, throwing it into the fire to put it out.

He lays down on the snow, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. She crawls towards him, opening his arms and lying against his chest.

“Get off me, woman.” He says, pushing her.

“I’m cold! You’re telling me an honorable Stark is going to let a woman freeze to death?”

“Witches don’t get cold. Your blood runs with fire.”

“You southerners and your silly little-“ He pulls her into him, wrapping his big arms around her. He hates to admit it, but her warmth comforted him from the cold.

“I’ll keep you warm if you shut up.”

She listens for once, saying nothing and nuzzling her head into his chest. He sighs, not having the strength to push her away… but not really wanting to either.

Her knee forces his legs apart to push her leg between his, slowly lifting it towards his crotch. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing?” She says, playing dumb. He doesn’t respond. She wiggles her knee more, rubbing her thigh against the leather covering his manhood.

“Stop. Moving.” He says.

“Was I? Sorry, didn’t notice.”

He shifts, trying to keep her from noticing the bulge growing in his leathers.

———

Cregan awakes before her. He stares down at the woman against his chest, her cheeks are tinted from the cold, and her lips are parted slightly. He admires her for a long time before she stirs. He pushes her away, thinking she’s awake.

“Ow.” She grumbles, sleepily. “Why’d you do that?”

“We need to get moving.” He stands, brushing the snow off him.

“Can’t we just lay a bit longer? I didn’t sleep well with you poking me with that thing all night.” She says, running her hand up his knee.

“I wasn’t.” He responds quickly, pushing her hand down. She stands, stretching as best as she can with her hands tied.

They begin walking for a few miles, with her trying to make conversation with him.

“You’re a rather quiet man.” She says, when her previous questions get no response.

“I just don’t have many words for a woman like you.”

“I leave you speechless?” She says, with a smirk.

“Try annoyed.” He responds flatly.

She steps close to him, pressing her chest into his back.

“What are you-“ Before he can realize what she’s doing, she cuts the rope on her wrists on his sword.

He whips around, prepared to knock her unconscious, but she’s too quick. She ducks, kicking his ankle and sweeping him down.

He hits the ground hard, but is back on his feet almost instantly. She runs, fast, beyond him.

He chases after her.

“Witch!” He yells, turning to look for her in every direction after she seemingly vanished.

“I told you I’m not a witch.” She says, stepping from behind a tree.

He stomps towards her, grabbing her by both of her arms, itching to give her a good smack across the face.

He looks down at her, that sly little smirk on her face, her cheeks red and flush, staring back up at him through her wet eyelashes.

She moves her arms from his grip, tracing her skinny fingers up his armor.

“You’re…” He whispers, starting to lose his strength. “Unlike any woman I’ve ever met.”

She grabs him by his neck, and he gasps in shock, but it’s quickly cut off as she pulls him down to meet her lips. Her kiss is harsh and fierce. Cregan had known women, but never one so blatantly unapologetic to be herself. She growls like an animal, ripping to get off his furs and leathers.

He matches her intensity, kissing her with the same energy. He lets the anger she ignited in him release itself unto her by biting and kissing her neck. She tugs at his hair, grinding her hips into his.

“Are you a virgin?” He asks.

“Don’t be stupid.” She responds, taking a step back to remove her own furs. He steps back towards her, pulling them off her himself.

“I only ask for your comfort.” He growls, frustrated with her attitude.

“Comfort? This isn’t the south.” She pushes him back, standing before him naked and unashamed. He breathes in the sight before him, his length growing at her beauty.

She practically pounces on him, pushing him to the snow before he’s even fully undressed.

“You are a fucking witch.” He moans, as she crawls her way up his body to rest her wetness above his face.

“Are you hungry, wolf?” She asks him.

“Starving.” He whines, wanting to taste her.

Her grip on his hair pulls him towards her, finally bringing his mouth to taste her sweet cunt. He can’t help but look at her as he eats her. Her nose and cheeks are so red from the cold, all he wants to do is warm her up. His large arms have a hold on her thighs, his fingers resting between them. She pulls off his gloves, letting his fingers grip into her warm legs.

She moans and whines in ecstasy. The sound turns him into a wreck, clawing and gripping at her thighs to the point he draws blood. She doesn’t even care, relishing the sweet pain.

She pulls and tugs on his hair so harshly, forcing his face so deep into her cunt. If he even thought of stopping, she’d kill him herself. She grinds her hips into his tongue, crying and whining into the cold air. It seems as if everything has gone silent, even the winds, the world around them stopping to hear her sweet ecstasy. He moans her name into her cunt every time she pulls his hair, wanting to be her release. He’s desperate to taste her release, she’s desperate to give it to him.

Cregan, the man he was, never having been with a woman so lust driven, couldn’t help but urge his own desires to see her writhe in his arms. One of his hands left her bloody thigh, grabbing a cold chunk of snow to rub against her warm cunt. She gasped at the feeling, whining from the cold. He rubbed his fingers against her sweet spot. Her nails dug into the arm still on her leg, moaning his name as she finally let herself go onto his tongue.

He swallowed every drop, only wanting to taste her sweetness for the rest of his life.

When she came down, he shoved her off him, mounting her and positioning himself between her legs.

Her body was growing red from touching the bitter snow, but it seems like she hadn’t even noticed.

Cregan wrapped his hands around her throat, leaning in and giving her a deep kiss. “I could kill you right now if I wanted, get this whole mess you’ve caused for me over with.” He whispered into her lips.

“You won’t.” She whispered back. “Not before you get to even fuck my sweet cunt.” She reaches her cold hand down, snaking it into his breeches and rubbing his length.

“You’re right.” He kisses her again. “I want all of you.” She unlaces his breeches, pushing it down along with his soft clothes.

She glides him along her wet entrance, and Cregan groans. He pushes himself into her, eliciting a sweet gasp from her lips. He gives her no time to adjust, immediately thrusting his hips back and forth.

She moans, tears brimming her eyes, having never been fucked by a man so large as Cregan.

“What? Why are you crying? Never been fucked like how you deserve?” He growls. She does nothing but nod.

“Nothing?” He asks. “Have I finally shut you up?” He fucks her harder, and she pulls on his brown curls, using her other hand to scratch all along his back. Cregan loved the thought of it, coming home with battle scars from her. He kisses her jaw, licking her salty tears.

He stands and picks her up, worried about the cold getting to her skin. He pins her to a tree, her back scraping against the bark. It hurts in such a sweet way, better than the cold snow. She cries out his name so loud as he fucks her against it. His hands roam her body, wanting to feel all of her but also wanting to warm her up.

“Tell me it true, Cregan.” She moans, her naughty attitude returning with a smirk. “Are you going to kill me?”

She knows his answer before he even does. He growls as a response, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of knowing that sweet cunt bested the Lord of Winterfell.

“I hate you.” He growls, fucking her even harder so she shuts up. “You killed innocent men.”

She laughs and moans at the same time, “I killed crows, My Lord.” He moans at ‘My Lord’ “I’d never… fuck… harm an innocent man. That’s why you’re here now, fucking my dripping cunt.”

He wraps one of his hands around her throat, the other holding her up, his thrusts growing sloppy as he nears his peak. “Fucking witch.”

To his surprise, her hand finds his throat too, but he loves it. He loves her aggressiveness. She matches him, she’s practically a savage wolf herself.

He wants to pull out, knows he should pull out, but he can’t find the strength. All he can focus on is the wetness surrounding his length. His hands grip her waist in such a harsh way it���s bound to bruise, and he relishes in the thought of marking her so those other wildlings knew she was his now. He had claimed her, and any other man who dared try to touch her would meet the Gods.

He grabs her and pushes her back into the snow, falling on her hands and knees. His hand takes a grip in her hair, pulling her head back toward him and forcing her to arch her back. He fucks her in such a shameful way. If any lady in Winterfell were fucked like this, she’d nearly be a whore. But she was not a lady, so he felt no guilt fucking her how she deserved, and how she eagerly wanted. Her hips bucked into him, matching his rhythm.

She cried such sweet moans at the pleasure, finding her peak so close. Her fingers spread into the snow, shaking, and she released onto him again, and he growled, fucking into her until he found his own peak.

His spilled into her so deep it touched her womb. She rested her face in the snow, panting. He pushed her off of his length, her body falling into the cold. Cregan stood, out of breath, staring down at the woman in the snow, her body curled into a fetal position as she laid there catching her breath. He was hooked. Obsessed with her beauty and madness, even as she laid there sweaty and cold.

He grabbed his furs and sat beside her, pulling her into his lap and wrapping the warm furs around her.

“You might catch a chill.” He whispered, slightly worried now that their lust had subsided.

“I’m a witch, right? My blood runs with fire.” She breathed. He laughed softly.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve ever seen you smile, Lord Stark.” She smiled, a soft and sweet smile. His heart nearly melted.

After dressing, they began walking again.

“Can we make a quick stop?” She asked, not letting him answer before she ran towards a cave in the not far off distance.

He sighs, not making an effort to chase her.

He walks into the dimly lit cave. It appeared lived in. He eyed the area, while pulling at his collar, due to the heat in the cave.

“Is this where you live?” He asked, his voice echoed back to him, making him feel alone.

She nodded, undressing herself again. “It’s a hot spring.”

She jumped into the water, moaning at the warmth. He twitched.

“You gonna just stand there lookin’ pretty?” She asked, her thick northern accent appearing. He sighed, slowly taking off his furs and armor before stepping into the hot water. She spit some of the water at him with a little smirk. He tried to hide his smile, but couldn’t. He grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him and into his lap. She curled her legs up and wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Let’s stay here.” She said, voice unsure. “You’re a wolf. You belong out here, not in the south.”

He took her hand in his. “My place is in Winterfell.”

“Then stay with me just for tonight.” She said. He sighed, pressing a soft kiss to her hand and nodding. She rested her wet head against his chest.

“I won’t cause any more trouble for you, Lord Stark.”

He sighed, knowing what it meant.

He yearned to bring her back to Winterfell, to give her a place in the castle, and to take her in his bed at night, but she was too wild. She would cause too much trouble for the servants and handmaidens. She would never be happy either.

He made it count, fucking her over and over again in that cave. When they slept, he held her close to him, refusing to even let her roll over. Her head fit perfectly against his neck. It felt like a crime to let her go.

———

They had been walking for three days to return to the wall, only growing closer and closer with each moment they spent together.

“I thought you said it was a day’s journey.” Cregan said.

“On horse.” He shot her a look, frustrated with the forgotten mention. She only smirked. He didn’t want to part from her just yet anyway.

“Lord Stark!” A voice yelled. He quickly pushed her behind him, unsheathing his sword and searching for where the voice came from. He was terrified for her, but she showed no fear. He knew if they seen her, they would kill her immediately.

4 men in black, all on horses trotted up besides them, encircling them.

“Gods, I can’t believe it.” The Lord Commander said, “You Starks, damn it. You put the rest of the North to shame. I can’t believe you found the witch.”

“I’m not a witch.” She said, but Cregan only grabbed her and wrapped his hand around her mouth, preventing her from starting a fight. She kicked and growled into his hand, but eventually submitted.

“Why is she still alive, m’lord? You should have taken her head the moment you found her.” A boy said.

“It’s not that easy. She’s strong, more useful alive.” Cregan said.

She kicked her foot back into his shin, stealing his sword from his hand. Cregan yelled and grabbed his leg. He grabbed her arm with his other hand with a harsh grip. Her elbow met his face, knocking him on the ground as blood pooled from his nose.

“Took you long enough to find your own way back here, crow.” She said, looking at the Lord Commander specifically, the heavy valyrian steel sword dragging from her hands onto the ground.

He only snickered at her.

“Don’t hurt yourself trying to lift that sword. I’d rather watch Stark behead you himself.”

“Can’t do your own dirty work?” She sneers.

Cregan sensed the tension but said nothing. He stood and grabbed her by the back of her neck, pulling her back and taking his sword from her. He stared her down, breathing angrily, his eyes fuming with rage. He wanted to take her on the snow again as revenge for breaking his nose, but restrained himself.

She looked back up at him, anger in her own eyes, his hand lingered on the back of her neck.

Cregan turned back around to face the Lord Commander. “I will not behead her. She is a prisoner of Winterfell.”

The Lord Commander fumed. “She’s killed half our men-“

“You killed half your men when you sent them searching for me.” She spits.

“Enough!” Cregan yelled, but she ignored him. She broke from his grip and ran at the Lord Commander. The horses spooked, bucking the other men off them and scattering.

She jumped, using the stirs of the saddle of his horse to mount it. She pulled out the dagger she stole from Cregan earlier, and slit the Lord Commander’s neck.

Hot blood spewed onto her face as he weakly grabbed at her throat. She smiled, that wicked smile again, licking the blood that spat across her face, her eyes wide with madness.

“Goodnight, crow.” She whispered.

Cregan ripped her off the horse, throwing her onto the ground.

“Do you understand what you have just done?!” He screamed at her. She smiled up at him, blood staining her teeth. She kissed him, the blood on their faces smearing. He briefly matched her love with the kiss, before pulling away.

He tried snatching the dagger back from her, “No, it’s mine!” She yelled.

He pulled her by her collar close to his face, “You have to go now… or I’ll kill you.”

Sadness swept across her face, her lip trembling like a scorned child.

“Keep your fucking dagger, then!” She yelled, stabbing it into his shoulder.

Cregan cried out, letting her go, and falling to the ground. He ripped the dagger from his shoulder. She used this as an opportunity to take her bow back from his body.

She reached into her boot, pulling out an arrow. She knocked it and drew it back. Cregan weakly jumped on the Lord Commander’s horse. The other Night’s Watch men were returning on their horses, having calmed and gathered them.

“Back to the wall!” Cregan commanded them. He didn’t turn to look at her. He knew if he had, she would’ve shot the arrow right through his eye. Instead, she hit him in his rib, perfectly hitting where it would hurt, but wouldn’t kill him. Cregan yelled in pain again.

The men rode off, not stopping until they made it to the wall. Cregan passed out multiple times on the way, visions of her flooding his thoughts as the men had to drag him to the maester.

She stayed in the same place for hours, sobbing and sobbing, as the icy cold froze her tears. Only when night fell then did she turn and leave, knowing she would never see the Lord again.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

One Night Stand (Logan)

Description: Y/N and Logan have a one night stand but Y/N is very awkward about it and avoids Logan. While Logan is very cocky about it.

Warning: Smutty

Word Count: 1,046

Requests: Hiii, I was wondering if you could write a fanfic where y/n wakes up next to Logan after a one night stand? They aren't together and they don't realllyy remember it but Logan is cocky as usually and the reader is lowkey kinda awkward about it, also you can throw wade into the mix somewhere if you like 😭, thank you

His large hands caressed her naked hips as she rode him. His eyes stared up at her with lust as she moaned his name. She was doing all the work but yet she was praising him. He was so beautiful and had the best dick she ever had. He was huge compared to her but that turned him on more than anything. Her eyes were rolling back as she whined that she was close. He told her to cum for him and she didn’t need to be told twice. Her screams of pleasure and his name left her lips til she couldn’t make any more noise. Triggering his climax he groaned and bucked his hips as he let loose in her. The feeling of her tight and warm pussy was driving him mad. Her legs were shaking and he smirked and the fact that there was no way she would be walking for the next few days. 

Her eyes opened slowly to the sunlight outside. She groaned and turned away just to bump into something that definitely was not a pillow. She opened her eyes to see Logan in her bed and naked at that. Her eyes widened and it took everything in her not to scream. He was still asleep. She thought about leaving the room but realized that this was her bed. What did they do?

She tried to think back to the night before but only remembered that she was drinking. Great, She thought. They definitely had sex but she couldn’t remember how it happened or why. She poked him in the shoulder until he stirred and turned towards her. His eyes still closed but he was waking up. “Y/N?” He asked as he opened his eyes to be faced with her. She looked around the room avoiding eye contact with him. “What happened?” He asked and she gave him a shrug.

His eyes looked down at both of their bodies and saw that they were naked. He smirked and chuckled, “You finally got me in bed.” It was more of a statement than a question. A cocky statement and she just stared at him with no expression. What did he mean finally? “All it took was a few drinks to get you to admit you wanted me and here we are.” She rolled her eyes at him and got up. His eyes followed her naked form as she gathered his clothes, “You need to leave.” She told him and threw his clothes on the bed.

The smirk he wore didn’t disappear as he got his clothes on. She stared at his delicious body as he got dressed. He walked up to her and kissed her, “Woah what are you doing?” She asked. He chuckled and kissed her head, “Well I mean we slept together right? I should be allowed to kiss you.” She shook her head and walked to the bathroom that was connected to her room. Logan walked out of her room with a smile on his face. 

Y/N avoided him for the rest of the week. Any time he knocked on her door she pretended to be asleep. Tension was high and who better to notice than Wade? “You guys had sex?” Wade practically yelled. Logan shushed him, not wanting Y/N to hear what they were talking about. “Yes and I feel like she’s avoiding me.” Wade was confused, “But she likes you.” Logan knew that and that’s what confused him.

“Yeah I’m aware but she’s being so awkward about this.” He stated. “Well maybe next time I can join so it’s not.” Wade was joking but he wasn’t. Logan rolled his eyes at the merc and got up. Y/N finally came out of her room as she couldn’t avoid him forever. Both heads turned in her direction as she walked to the fridge. “Haven’t seen ya since you got drunk.” Wade said. “Yeah well a lot has happened since then.” She said and Logan huffed. “So I’ve heard.” Wade couldn’t keep a secret for shit.

Logan glared at him as Y/N turned towards them, “What?” She asked, only looking at Wade. “You get the guy you want and now you’re avoiding him.” Y/N glared at Logan who put his hands up. “You act like you weren’t screaming my name.” He said. “Damn wish I could’ve heard it.” Wade mumbled. Y/N’s face was red from his words. “I don’t remember it, you asshole!” She yelled at Logan and stormed away. “Though if she did she would enjoy it.” Wade said. “I heard that!” 

Logan had enough of her avoiding him like she didn’t come onto him. She was the one telling him how hot he was and how she gets super turned on when he wears the suit and the mask. He knocked on her door. It was 5 pm and he knew she wasn’t sleeping. “Come on Y/N, I know you’re in there. Just open the door. We need to talk about this.” He said. She refused so he sighed, “Y/N, I’ve had feelings for you for awhile now and when you came onto me I was so happy that you returned the feelings. I mean you were praising me during sex and it was the best. But Wade told me a few months ago that you liked me so I planned to make a move eventually but unfortunately it happened while we were drunk. But I don’t regret it cuz it was the best sex I’ve ever had.” He sighed and she opened the door.

He smiled at her but she just stared at him. “You mean that?” She asked and he nodded. She was truly afraid he only wanted to have sex with her but hearing that he had feelings for her made it all better. “Yes. I like you Y/N and I have for awhile.” He told her and she finally gave him a smile. Her awkwardness for the situation went away as she gave him a kiss. This time no pulling away until they needed air. “I like you too Logan.” He figured as much. “Now I have to go kill Wade.” She said and stormed down the hallway. “WADE!” She yelled and he watched her go up to Wade ready to beat him up.

[sweetheartsaku]

(BHNA) CAN MACHINES FALL IN LOVE?

𝜗𝜚 SHOTO TODOROKI: 𝓐LSTROEMERIA.

a/n: [fem!reader] thank you so much for all the support on pt 1!!! ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ hopefully we like the new layout huhu

shoto is for the girls who brush their hair really rough. shoto who gently works his way down the strands, through every knot and tangle till the brush comes off the ends. he uses a wooden brush, because he knows plastic ones are hard on your head. he doesn’t rush, combing through every damp section as you melt into his touch, especially from the warm shower to his warm hands. only for him to tangle his fingers through your scalp again as your face is snuggled against his chest later that night, or braid your hair the following afternoon, vividly trying to visualise the way his mother taught him while she was in the hospital on his rare days off, and by his sister who would braid baby shoto’s hair as he slept ‎(''-ࡇ-)💤

one time as a kid he had overheard his sister, fuyumi, humming a lullaby before bed. sho' as kid walks in on her brushing her hair for what seems to be a while and asks what she's been doing. when little fuyumi said she has to brush her hair 100 times before bed to become a princess, little shoto has never let go and does it with you almost every night 🥹💗

along the lines of warm showers, he loves when you come out of the bathroom not for the imagery, but for the aromatic fragrance that radiates off your body as you dry your hair (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ. when he politely and cluelessly asks if he can dry it, he is so gentle with rubbing the strands between the small towel. sometimes he gets distracted when he smells the shampoo and conditioner. he’ll say, “you smell nice” with a monotone expression, yet so many thoughts behind his crystal turquoise and steel eyes (that he just expects you to know). he loves fruity and flowery scents because they remind him of his mother (·•᷄∩•᷅ ).

shoto is for the girls that get overwhelmed or overstimulated easily. has never been a fan of pda, but there's something about the way he places his hand on top of your knee when he notices the bouncing becomes a lot faster and rougher, the way he squeezes back a bit tighter when you squeeze his palm as a plead to go home, the way that he looks at you so endearingly unknowingly when you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, or the way he lets you fidget with the silver metal on his ring finger.

when he’s out or visiting another place, he always sends you the most adorable letters. there's a wax seal, a stamp and your name in his neat cursive handwriting just the way you like it. your favourite colours, the cologne you said you like on him once suddenly became half empty because he sprayed on every letter. sometimes you’ll get a dried flower stuck with it, or a small packet of your favourite snack on the front!! sometimes he attempts to decorate the letters with stickers, but then ends up only using two, afraid of wasting it HAHA ♡

gets quietly clingy. or lowkey just in general, is always craving your touch ( ≧ᗜ≦)! will never say it though, he expects you to be able to read his telepathic thoughts that he sends through his softened eyes and dimple pout. he likes being held; he likes the way he feels like putty in your arms. his favourite is when his face is buried in the crook of your neck, listening to your hands soothe under his shirt on his bare back. he likes the way his breath hitches before slowly exhaling when he can smell the flowery scent of your dried-damp hair on your nape. a little spoon i fear your honour

loves the way necklaces look on you!! especially the dainty simple ones. doesn't mind using his dad's black card on you LMAO 😭. you defo have a collection of them all prettily displayed on a little necklace stand each on a hook, and they all have little stories behind them (some of them are just ones he bought on a whim too hehe). one has his initial, he's matching with your initial (obviously), which is one that you both wear on special occasions. one has a butterfly because he said it reminded him of your beauty, you usually wear that on dates. the ones with rhinestones or your birthstone are the ones he purchases when he's away from you and you wear them interchangeably. he loves the silver ones btw!! idk there's just something that happens to his heart whenever he sees the charm dangling off your neck when you reach over to him, or the way the chain bumps along your collarbone ♡

he reminds you of cotton candy skies, especially the ones in blue and pink hehe.. he looks at the text and sky you sent him, and he stares at the screen thinking to himself: can machines fall in love?

[allfearstofallto]

Soo, I just saw your yandere diluc and Amelia, I was wondering if there is any scenario or at least a moment where reader treats Amelia well, I can't stand it anymore that she doesn't feel love from her mom 😭😭, girl's just a cutie pie

TW: angst, afab reader, reader has children, yes this is still a yandere Diluc story <3

Did you know that Amelia has a secret? Something not even her own father knows? Well, she does. And you're the only person who she's told it to.

Amelia is plagued by nightmares. Bad dreams about monsters and ghosts. It's even worse when she wakes up in her bedroom, all alone and in the dark. In the pitch black darkness, all the shadows look like creatures out to get her and the only place safe is beneath her covers. She'll hide there, trembling in fear and covering her ears with her hands, all the creaks and groans of the old manor, sound like walking and talking in the mind of a scared child.

Amelia never tells her father about her bad dreams or fear of the dark. Diluc already has a tendency to be overbearing when it comes to her. His love for her being so strong, a little too strong. She's made a name for herself of being independent, despite him, and would hate for that to all be washed away if she told him she was afraid.

Stormy nights are the worst. The wind howls and the trees tapping against the windows sound like claws trying to get in. When a particularly loud thunder strike booms, she jumps out of her bed and runs. She doesn't know why she runs, but she does, straight towards her father's room. Her pride would have to be put aside for this battle, he was the only one who could protect her.

But, before she could reach his door, she bumps into something at full speed. Falling back on her behind, she whimpers out in pain. She knows the manor like the back of her hand, having lived there since the day she was born. She could navigate the place with her eyes closed, and even better in the dark. Yet she still ran into something. She ran into you.

Gulping a bit in fright and in fear of what you'd say to her, she helped her head down as she stood and dusted off her night gown, "I'm...I'm sorry," she muttered, her eyes welling up with tears as she expected to receive those rude words from you and the look of disdain.

"Where are you running to this late at night?" You questioned. Much to her surprise you didn't sound angry or disgusted by her presence. You sounded worried. Like you truly cared about what she was doing.

Amelia pointed to Diluc's door with her finger, "Daddy's room." She said, wide eyes looking right up at you.

You looked back at the door then down at the girl. She wasn't saying it, but you could see it. The way her eyes were wide with fear and filled with tears, the way her little hands trembled while gripping the hem of her dress. She was scared. Scared of the storm. Just like you were.

"You know he's asleep, right?"

Amelia nodded slowly.

"But I'm awake," you assured her, "Would you like to sit with me?"

Her deep red eyes opened to the side of saucers at your words. Never once was she even allowed to be near you, she even remembered being told that she was bottle fed because of it. Anger should've made her say no, but the excitement of finally spending time with you, her mother, made her not care anymore. She held your hand tight as you guided her down the stairs, like if she didn't, this version of you would disappear and she'd be alone on the dark again.

You led her to the kitchen, were you lit a few candles. And sat Amelia promptly on the counter. She didn't ask what you were doing, afraid that anything she said would cause a switch to flip within you. She was quiet and attentive, like she was always told to be during her lessons. Watching as you poured some milk into a pot on the stove, not saying anything, but still smiling weakly. She'd never seen you smile before. Not around her at least.

"I'm also scared of storms," you finally said and even though you were telling her something bad, she smiled. You and her had something in common. She never thought she'd have anything in common with you, except her face that Diluc complimented her on constantly. Saying that she got all her beauty from her mother.

"And the dark too?" Amelia asked softly. You were the first person she was telling her secret to and her heart was about to pound out of her chest at the thought of rejection from you.

You hummed a bit, pouring two glasses of milk as you thought about it, "I used to be." You handed Amelia one of the glasses, holding the other for yourself, "Sometimes, I still am."

It was like a weight was lifted off of her shoulders at your admission. You were by far the most independent person she knew. Even if she thought you hated her, she saw you as fearless. So to know that you too felt fear, of anything at all, made her less tense around you.

Amelia took a sip of her warm milk and you did the same. It was sweet, like honey, and she downed the glass of a few moments, whipping her mouth with the sleeve of her dress. The two of you didn't talk much while you finished yours, but Amelia couldn't help, but to stare. In the candle light, with the crackling of thunder outside, you looked like an entirely different person.

You picked her up when she finished and she rested her head on your shoulder. You flinched a bit, but patted her back regardless. It was the first time you'd held her, or at least, the first time she could remember. She felt safe in your arms, even safer than she did in her father's. It wasn't long before the warm milk and the warmth of your body had its effect on her, and she was snoring peacefully on your shoulder.

Amelia woke up the next morning under her mountains of sheets and stuffies, not remembering how she got back to bed. But remembering the night she had, a part of her thought she'd dreamt it. If she did, it was the best dream she'd ever had on a stormy night. But the slight sweetness on her lips told her it was real.

Amelia had two secrets now, one was that she was scared of the dark and the other, was that she has someone to go to when she was feeling afraid.

[deonsx]

Hope i’m not too late to request 😭

but i’d love a sae fic where the reader is a very famous hollywood actress, and the content would just be her in japan with sae coming to that u20 meeting, coming to the match, cheering for him, being shown on the big screen while doing so, and fluffy moments in front of the paparazzi

and also how the crowd and especially how the u20 members would react to it all (sendou would be interesting since bro wants an actress gf so bad lol)

i’ve been binge reading your posts the whole day today and i just HAD to request 💕💕 thank you so much 🤭

hiii love!! You made it before the last hours, I loved this request have a good read (also the rq has already closed, thank you to my loves who sent requests still, but I haven't finished the ones in the event yet. I will be ready for a new event) AND THANK YOU FOR 900 FOLLOWERS(｡◕‿◕｡✿)

Sae sat with the rest of the U-20 team during their pre-match briefing seemingly unbothered by the noise outside. But even his teammates couldn’t resist teasing him “Yo Sae care to explain why she is wearing your jersey” Sendou smirked nudging Sae’s arm “You’re dating her right You have to be. There’s no way she’d just show up for no reason”

Sae shot him a bored look “Focus on the game”

“But-”

“Shut up” Sendou groaned but didn’t stop staring at the monitors where the VIP section was being shown live “Man I swear if I had an actress girlfriend I’d retire from football right now. Goals achieved”

“Good thing you don’t” Sae replied flatly but his lips quirked up ever so slightly. The match began and the tension was palpable. Every time Sae got the ball the crowd roared but the cameras inevitably panned to you. You clapped enthusiastically leaning forward in your seat and when Sae’s shot curved perfectly into the net you jumped to your feet cheering louder than anyone else

The stadium erupted. Fans screamed his name but all Sae could hear even amidst the chaos was the faint echo of your voice. He looked up at the stands and found you beaming hands clasped in excitement. He allowed himself a brief glance just long enough for Sendou to notice

“Did you just smile at her” Sendou asked incredulously running beside Sae as they moved back into formation “Play the game” Sae said but there was a rare softness in his tone

The game ended with a U-20 victory. Sae dominated the field but the post-match buzz wasn’t just about his performance. The cameras couldn’t get enough of you rushing down to meet him at the sidelines. You threw your arms around him unbothered by the press or the dozens of lenses capturing the moment

“You were amazing” you said voice slightly breathless. Sae let you hug him one hand resting casually on your back “You’re loud you know that”

“You like it” you teased pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. The photographers captured every second your bright smile his subtle but unmistakable fondness. Fans online exploded with reactions some gushing about your chemistry others lamenting how “unfair” it was that Sae got the girl of their dreams

Back in the locker room the teasing was relentless “I can’t believe it” Sendou groaned throwing his towel to the floor “She was hugging you Sae. Hugging you. Meanwhile I can’t even get a text back”

“You’re embarrassing yourself” Sae replied tying his shoelaces “I don’t care. Introduce me. Tell her I’m funny” Sae stood slinging his bag over his shoulder “She’s not interested in idiots” The entire team burst into laughter as Sendou collapsed dramatically onto the bench

Later that evening Sae and you managed to slip away from the chaos and grab a quiet dinner. The restaurant was discreet but a few paparazzi still lingered outside “You’re the talk of Japan right now” you teased swirling your drink “How does it feel to be the center of attention”

He leaned back in his chair the corner of his mouth lifting slightly “I could ask you the same thing” You laughed leaning across the table “Oh please. You’re the real star today. I was just a very enthusiastic fan”

“Too enthusiastic” he muttered though his tone lacked any real annoyance “You didn’t seem to mind when I was screaming your name” Sae’s gaze lingered on you for a moment soft and unguarded “Maybe I didn’t”

Enjoy!

[lerclan]

movie night (pt.2 to orange) | lando norris

type: smau + written

pairing(s): reader x lando norris, reader x f1 grid (friendly)

summary: after you and lando officially announced your relationship, you didnt realize that charles and george were actually sad about the news. to make it up you invited them for ice cream and some movies (except they werent the only ones that showed up)

warning(s): a little bit suggestive 😘🙈

fc: random girlies off of pinterest!

---

"are you sure thats gonna be enough ice cream, babe?" lando asks as you turned to look at him confused

"yes??? why wouldnt there be enough? i only invited the two of them for some ice cream and to watch movies." you respond to lando as his eyes widen, "what did you do, lando."

"i swear–no i promise i didnt know it was just supposed to be those two..." he explains as you look at him more, "i may or may have not invited more people besides the two..."

"lando norris!" you yelp out in disbelief, "go."

"go?? go where??" he asks confused.

"go buy more ice cream for the friends you invited." you tell him as he sighs, "quit standing around, go before they come!"

after a few minutes of you stressing out, lando finally arrived with more ice cream in his hands.

"who else did you invite?" you finally ask as he puts the ice cream in the freezer.

"carlos, oscar, max, alex, and lewis." he states their names.

"oh, well thats fine. sorry for getting snappy with you, love." you give him a peck on his cheek, "you know how i am with planning things."

"trust me i do, dont worry about it babe." he tackles you onto the couch as you scream for help.

you and him wrestle each other for a bit until you end up on top of him, straddling his waist.

"i could so do you right now." you blurt out as he cheekily smiles.

"please do." he says as you lean in for a kiss but it gets interrupted with a doorbell.

"awhh, too bad." you pull away as you give him a sly look to which he rolls his eyes at.

---

ynnn posted on their story !

👁️628,183

amayamoore replied to ynnns story

amayamoore WHY IS EVERYONE THERE

amayamoore I THOUGHT IT WAS J GONNA BE CHARLES AND GEORGE??

ynnn GIRL I THOUGHT SO TOO BUT LANDO INVITED MORE PEOPLE 😭😭😭

amayamoore LMFAOOO

lilymhe replied to ynnns story

lilymhe tell alex to buy some carrots after you guys are done w your movie night

lilymhe that cute idiot forgot his phone 😔

ynnn LMFAOAHHS OKAY

ynnn he said "understood" with a salute

lilymhe thanks girl lets hang tmrw xxx

ynnn GIRLS NIGHT!?&:

lilymhe YESSSS

---

"did she ask for anything else, y/n?" alex asks as he takes a spoonful of ice cream into his mouth.

"no, but i am stealing her from you tomorrow night." you answer as you take a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth as well.

"girls night?" max asks as you nod your head in agreement.

"yep, pretty much." you answer verbally, "anyways, were you two shocked when you pulled up here seeing all the other guys?" you laugh as you see charles and george nod their heads.

"obviously. i thought me and george were gonna get closure and therapy after the announcement, not a whole party." charles answers as he laughs, "but i think this is better."

"the more merrier they say..." lando says as he scratches his head.

you give him a peck on the lips as you laugh.

"you guys are lucky charles cried all of his tears during the announcement or hed be bawling right now." carlos says as everyone laughs and looks at charles.

"hey, still quite sensitive to that..." he says as he eats down his ice cream and chokes.

max instantly gets up to pat charles on his back as he keeps on coughing.

"DONT DIE ON ME." you yell as you ran out of the room to get charles a glass of water.

"RUN BABE RUN!!" lando yells out as he slowly panics at how much charles was coughing.

"HERE.." you come back with a glass of water nearly slipping on the way, but it gets to charles safely.

"charles dont die yet, you have to race in monaco." max says as he still pats his back.

"i wo–" he coughs, "i wont." he finally takes a deep breath and stops coughing.

"almost lost a dad there for a sec by his own ice cream brand" oscar says as everyone laughs especially charles.

"you almost really did." he says as he finally eases down, "anyways, what are we watching tonight." he asks as you chuckle at his attempt at changing the subject.

"you can pick since you almost saw the light." you say.

"yeah mate, youre lucky max got your back. like quite literally." lewis says max laughs.

after a few minutes of thinking, charles finally picked a movie that he thinks everyone would enjoy.

---

lando.jpg

Liked by ynnn, landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 528,924 others

lando.jpg my love ❤️

tagged: ynnn

View all 45,818 comments

---

user3 y/ns first jpg feature 🥹🫶

lando.jpg wont be the last thats fs ❤️

ynnn you better be for sure.

user3 NOT THE THREAT GNNN 😭😭😭

maxverstappen1 mates gonna pretend like we werent there...

alex_albon got lost in the sauce

lewishamilton real

georgerussell63 real

oscarpiastri real

carlossainz55 real

charles_leclerc real

lewishamilton wheres my photo creds @??

ynnn real, like he ate that last pic of us up

lando.jpg creds @/lewishamilton for the last photo 😒

ynnn gosh hes being sassy again 🙄

lewishamilton i literally just asked for creds 🙄🙄

ynnn ikr??? 🙄🙄🙄🙄

mclaren now you know what we have to deal with 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

ynnn gosh i could never 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

lando.jpg GOSH YOU GUYS ARE BULLIES ☹️

---

charles_leclerc

Liked by landonorris, ynnn, lilymhe, and 1,271,182 others

charles_leclerc feeling better now 😎

tagged: ynnn

View all 157,713 comments

---

ynnn I SWEAR YOU PUT A FRICKING BRICK IN YOUR PILLOW. GOOD LORD CHARLES.

charles_leclerc LOLLL IM SORRY 😭😭

ynnn THAT HURT MATE 😭😭😭

landonorris THE SOUND IT MADE LMFAOOO 😭😭

ynnn SHUT UP LANDO.

alex_albon ive never laughed so hard until what happened on the last photo 😭

lewishamilton FR 💀

lilymhe COUNT YOUR DAYS ALEX.

ynnn YOU GUYS ATTEMPTED TO MURDER ME I SWEAR.

ynnn MURDERERS. ALL OF YOU.

user3 NOT Y/N ACCUSING THEM OF ATTEMPTED MURDER BYEE 😭😭

scuderiaferrari dont hurt our future driver charles ❤️😘

mclaren nuh uh i dont think so ☝️ shes taking landos seat

scuderiaferrari we will see 🙈

ynnn THAT WAS AN UNFAIR FIGHT WAIT TILL I HAVE MY GIRLS W ME GOSH

lilymhe FR

amayamoore REMAAATCH

maxverstappen1 its so on

oscarpiastri REAL‼️

alex_albon REAL‼️

landonorris REAL‼️

carlossainz55 REAL‼️

lewishamilton REAL‼️

charles_leclerc REAL‼️

georgerussell63 REAL‼️

user4 THIS FRIENDSHIP IS TO DIE FOR I SWEAR

---

georgerussell63

Liked by ynnn, charles_leclerc, landonorris, alex_albon, and 876,173 others

georgerussell63 we totally won in girls vs boys pillow fight.

tagged: charles_leclerc, ynnn, alex_albon, landonorris

View all 99,173 comments

---

ynnn FOR THE LAST TIME: GIRL (SINGULAR) VS BOYS (PLURAL)

user4 poor girl is fighting a whole team 😭

ynnn NOBODY HAD MERCY 😡😡😡😡

charles_leclerc youre just a sore loser

ynnn STFU LECLERC.

alex_albon i swear i literally almost peed myself seeing her screech, run away, and slip 💀

landonorris FOR REAL. I NEARLY HYPERVENTILATED SEEING THAT HAPPEN I WAS CRYING 😭😭

carlossainz55 it actually had me in tears too i couldnt believe she slipped because of her slippers😭😭😭

maxverstappen1 i may have bursted a lung.

ynnn WHAT IS WERONG QITH YOU GUYS QUIT EXPOSING ME

user22 I CANT BREATHE 😭💀💀💀

oscarpiastri 😭😭😭

ynnn im gonna crash into you guys if i see you in the roads.

amayamoore THE THREATS 😭😭😭

mercedesamgf1 how do you feel about joining us next year. we will have a seat open for you 😁

redbullracing no she seems to have a redbull driving style 😘

scuderiaferrari FORZA FERRARI!!! also we dibs first 🙄

mclaren shes already driving for lando next year 🧡🧡🧡

landonorris WHAT

yn.jpg you didnt know babe?

landonorris #landofoundonthestreetsjobless

yn.jpg GOODBYE LMFAOO 😭😭

landonorris look at my loves bunda 😻😻😻

ynnn id humor you if i wasnt holding a grudge against you.

landonorris it was too funny babe i could not 😭😭

ynnn WTV OPP WTV.

landonorris there she goes again 🙄🙄🙄

---

yn.jpg

Liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1, lilymhe, and 35,263 others

yn.jpg welcome chat

tagged: landonorris, charles_leclerc, georgerussell63, carlossainz55, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, alex_albon, maxverstappen1

View all 9,173 comments

---

yn.jpg look at all the photos i took of them

yn.jpg my favs is alexs 😭

user3 WHAT EVEN HAPPENED

yn.jpg nothing...just an inchident. (tried running him over in his own car)

lilymhe LMFAOO GNNN 😭😭 HE PROBABLY DESERVED IT

yn.jpg HE DID LILY HE RLLY DID

alex_albon OKAY WHATEVER 😒

charles_leclerc hey...😔

maxverstappen1 best quote from you ever.

lando.jpg such a copycat 🙄

maxverstappen1 mate didnt you beg her?

georgerussell63 didnt you go down on both knees?

oscarpiastri didnt you weep on the floor?

alex_albon didnt you massage her back?

lewishamilton didnt you yell loudly for her to make this account?

carlossainz55 didnt you roll AND weep on the floor if she didnt make it?

charles_leclerc didnt you also massage her feet?

yn.jpg didnt you beg for months for me to make it?

lando.jpg GOSH I GET IT OKAY. 🙄

user22 omg look at oscar hes such a cutie 🥹🥹🥹

charles_leclerc my child is cute 🥹

oscarpiastri thanks dad 😆

user3 that looks like the best movie night ever omg

user4 NO CUZ FR??

yn.jpg #facedented #charlesfault #hehadabrickinhispillow

charles_leclerc haters gonna stay losing 🙄🙄🙄

lilymhe lets get them next time since they wanna talk😒

amayamoore real 😒

yn.jpg real 😒

ynnn real 😒

lilymhe not the double confirmation 😭😭

ynnn i want revenge babes 😭🫶

lilymhe youll get them back babe 🫶😘

amayamoore @/alex_albon she just stole your girl

alex_albon #usedtothis

lilymhe HAHAHSJW ILY BABE 😖🤍

alex_albon love you too 😻🙈

ynnn ew i hate couples 🙄

landonorris im literally on the other side of the couch from you babe 😔

ynnn how about you come to my side then babe. sit on my lap 😻😻😻

landonorris yes maam 😻😻😻🙈🙈

amayamoore GET OUT OF HERE

georgerussell63 TAKE THIS SOMEWHERE ELSE.

charles_leclerc THEYRE DOING IT AGAIN

mclaren i was never here 😨

---

authors note(s): did a little part 2 to orange since it felt like it needed a part 2.

i also wanna thank you guys for giving me massive support on orange 😭🫶 i genuinely thought it was gonna flop since it was my first time writing a smau and i thought that you guys wouldnt find my humor funny, but reading the comments made me feel better 😘😘😘

thank you sm again xxx

[always-just-red]

Hi! Hope you're having a good day!

Just found your blog yesterday and read Onychinus' Finest. I've been STARVED of Kieran and Luke fics, not enough people appreciate them, so I come with a request! (Most of what I'll say is totally optional. I believe in the author's creative vision overall so if something doesn't fit feel free to change and adapt whatever you'd like.)

Either hunter or assassin MC, where they're at a mission, and they're ambushed. One of the twins gets hurt protecting her, maybe even taken, and she just goes on a rampage to get him back. They've never quite seen her so protective and yet so vengeful. She might go by herself? When Sylus wants to plan ahead properly since his own miscalculations lead them to get attacked in the first place. The twins are loyal to him, the other brother won't go without his permission despise his brother being missing or hurt. I'm just picturing her finding a broken mask, half of it missing (she's never seen their faces before.)

Happy ending. 🥺 Just fluffy you know? I want the twins melting into her, one with gratitude for finding his brother and the other just with disbelief and affection that she's do all this for him.

Special mention to any heads on her lap like overgrown puppies, just holding her close. They're sweet boys I think, especially if their guard and masks are finally down.

You can take this as platonic or romantic, she could be with Sylus and still have grown to really care and look out for the twins, or she could love them. (I don't know which ones angstier)

Thank you for even considering this even if you decide it's not worth your time!

AAAAAAA HEY!! You had such a vision for this and it was so fun to work with-- I hope it's everything you imagined! You've always been so so so supportive and kind, so I low-key went all-out on this, that's half the reason it took so long. 😭😭 Think this is my longest fic so far oh my gosh? Love it though, all the action scenes took me RIGHT back to my Assassin's Creed fanfic writing days haha Anyway! This is set in the same canon as the last fic because I loved that dynamic ngl. Not a direct sequel though!

Beneath The Mask

Luke and Kieran x Reader 🎭

Summary: Sylus and Kieran are useless, as always, so you take matters into your own hands

Genre: angst + fluff + ACTION!! *karate chops*

Warnings/Additional tags: f!reader, nonMC!reader, platonic Sylus x reader, swearing, descriptions of violence, injury, broken bones, killing (don't @ reader, she wants her man back!!), but also some humour 😌

| Word count: 4.6k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

Sometimes, you think you’re the only member of Onychinus who isn’t completely out of their mind.

You’d think it was Sylus, your indomitable leader. Smiles-with-a-knife-at-his-throat Sylus. Has-the-situation-completely-in-hand Sylus. It used to inspire you: that crimson gaze of his, always alight with a fire that’s never, ever, quite out of control.

How does he do it? You’d wonder in awe, like a wide-eyed child enthralled by a magic trick.

How does he do it? You’re wiser, now. You know it’s a lie, now, but you still can’t see through it. It’s driving you mad.

You watch as the man works away at a large, glass monitor, his fingers gliding across the screen with their usual grace. You get glimpses: names, faces, contacts. He’s testing the cords of his network— an intricate web— and he’s hoping someone’s caught something he can sink his teeth into.

He’s been at this for two hours, ever since you dragged yourselves back here with your tails between your legs. There’s a gash on his forehead that hasn’t yet healed, and the blood is still drying, dark on his face. Has he thought to heal it? Or— there’s a smudge on his finger— does he like his guilt a little warmer to the touch?

“We need an order, boss,” you seethe, because you’re tired of standing beside him, unacknowledged.

“You have your order.” He types out a message. Dismisses another. “Wait.”

“I meant an order that isn’t complete bullshit.”

He shoots you a glance, his eyes embers of warning. “Careful, sweetie. You forget yourself.”

Your fists ball. “Oh, spare me.”

“What would you have me do?” he mutters, gaze returning to the screen. He isn’t rising to the challenge, or should you say— stooping to it. He’s so goddamn noble.

“They have Luke, Sylus.”

“I know.”

“So let’s fucking do something! Let’s go back, let’s get him. They caught us off-guard last time, that’s all. They got their hands on some Ever tech, so what? We know that, now. They don’t stand a chance if we just—”

“Charge in there, guns blazing?” Sylus finishes for you, lips curled in derision.

It sounds stupid out loud, and he wants you to hear it. You do; you don’t care. “We don’t need all of this,” you beseech, your hand waving over the monitor. “We have you, boss.”

“Me?” he chuckles, and it’s so, so bitter.

Is that the guilt you’ve been looking for? It isn’t enough. His eyes are still pools of calm— spilt blood, unreciprocated. How does he do it?

“We have to do something,” you say limply. “Please, I can’t… I can’t do this, Sylus. All this nothing. Tell me what to do. I’ll go back alone if I have to. Just say the word and I’ll—”

“Look at this,” he interrupts, stepping away from the screen so that you can take his place before it.

It’s an order, even if it isn’t the one you want. You roll your eyes as you obey, and you begin to scour the intel he’s gathered. Eyewitness accounts, rumours, surveillance footage— some courtesy of Mephisto— and it’s all centred around two things. One: the aspiring new gang you’d set out to dismantle earlier, and two: a link to Ever. A solid link to Ever. 

“They didn’t steal Ever’s tech,” you release on a sigh of understanding. “They’re working together.”

“Mmm.” Sylus’s hand clears the screen before you. “We should have known. I should have known.”

Your mind is so caught-up by the revelation that you almost miss the confession.

“This was my mistake,” he continues, watching you. “And you are all my responsibility. Believe me…” He taps the screen and live surveillance footage springs up: an outside view of the compound you’d raided earlier. “I want to burn that place to the ground as much as you do.”

But… “No collateral damage,” you murmur, eyeing the guards on patrol.

“No collateral damage,” Sylus nods. “Do you trust me?”

“I trust you, boss.”

And maybe he is burning with just as much anger. Maybe the fear is making his heart drum, and the guilt making his skin crawl. It’s the same, old trick, isn’t it? Done to death:

The mask without a mask— just where does he hide all that?

Maybe he doesn’t.

There’s only so much faith you can have in something you can’t see.

…

Clink.

You slot a bullet into the magazine of your pistol, then follow it up with another. Clink. Then another. Clink. You’ve never relished this quiet— not like Sylus does. To him it’s an art. To you: a chore. You glance about the armoury, and you’ve never resented your shelves of options quite like this before. Antiques. Prototypes. So many means of dealing death.

You’ve never seen the beauty in it, but a shot through the heart means something different to Sylus than it does to the rest of you. It can be intimate. Symbolic. He can die for something, someone, and he can do it over, and over, and over again. How poetic.

You holster your loaded weapon, then reach for another.

“What’re you doing?”

The voice makes you jump. “Gods, Kieran. You want a bullet through your head?”

“No.” He misses the meaning of your words. “Why— wanna shoot me?”

“Right now?” you ask cynically.  

He laughs like he hasn’t got a care in the world. Liar. You’ve finished loading the second gun so you slide it across the table to him wordlessly. The beak of his mask lowers as he regards it; he doesn’t pick it up.

“You’re being weird,” he says after a moment. “It’s cool. I like it.”

You roll your eyes, wandering over to a rack of weapon attachments. There are different sights. Silencers. (Is that how you want to play this? Quiet?) “I’m going back for Luke,” you state as you muse it over. “You want in, or not?”

The rest is implied: Sylus doesn’t know. He isn’t coming. All of that’s evident from the fact that you’re here, rifling through his precious collection, and not ensnared in the tendrils of his Evol somewhere. A toddler could connect the dots. Kieran will get there. Give him a minute.

It takes half a minute. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. An ambiguous apology.

“It’s fine, Kieran.” He was never going to come with you. “I can do this alone. I can—”

A weight lands on you, tackling you into the weapons rack, and you land on the floor amongst the attachments you’d just been perusing so calmly. The weight stays on you, pinning you: hands are on your wrists, twisting you around. “Kieran!” you protest.

The man pulls away, leaving you slumped in your new, uncomfortable seat.

“Wha—” You try to stand up but you’re jolted back; your wrist is fixed to something. You turn your head, eyes widening as they fall on the pair of handcuffs you’ve been restrained with. They’re padded— lined with a soft, velvety material. “Where the hell did you get these?”

“Boss’s room. Luke and I had a bet,” Kieran shrugs, now towering over you.

“You win?”

“Heh. Yeah.”

You’re still trying to squeeze your hand out of the cuffs. You pry at them. Twist and wriggle your fingers— none of it’s any use. You glance up at Kieran, admitting defeat with a sigh. He brushes his hands together in a ‘job well done’ sort of gesture, his eyes fixed on you, well— you have to imagine they are.

Instead of windows to the soul you’re faced with red-glass imitations, impossible to read, and you’re tired of all the guessing.  

“How do you do it?” you ask with a quiet desperation. “How do you act like everything’s fine?”

“Boss will come up with a plan,” the twin says simply, like he hasn’t really thought about it.

“And what if it takes too long? What if we’re too late? I mean… think of all the shit he knows, Kieran. Everything about us, about boss— it’s priceless. Do you really think they’re holding back?”

Kieran huffs. “You worried he’ll snitch or something?”

“I’m worried they’re hurting him!” you snap. “What the hell is wrong with you!? He’s your brother! He could be dead and you’re acting like, like..”

Your voice trails off as you gaze up at him hopelessly. There’s nothing to see— no tension in his body, no harsher rise and fall to his chest, betraying a nervous, racing heart. All the usual signs are missing. He isn’t shifting on his feet like he does when he’s anxious. Is he that good at pretending, or…

Does he really not care?

You shake your head, looking down at the floor; you’re so sick of red eyes. He’s crazy. Sylus is crazy.

There’s nothing for it, then.

“You know what?” you chuckle dryly, under your breath. “Maybe you’re right. This isn’t all bad, I mean… when’s the last time you and I had any one-to-one time, huh?”

Kieran is silent. He lowers himself slowly until he’s crouched before you— forearms resting on his knees. His head tilts inquisitively: Go on.

“Maybe,” you lilt, “this is an opportunity.” You’re practically whispering, and the man leans in, not wanting to miss a word. Your free hand reaches for a horn of his hood and you use it to pull him closer; he doesn’t even resist. “How about we…” you speak into his ear, “go look through Luke’s stuff?”

Kieran draws back, those false eyes meeting yours with an intensity that makes you think, for a second, that you’ve gone too far.

“You’re the best,” he breathes out, suddenly fiddling with the handcuffs, slotting the key into the lock. “Just… the absolute best.”  

Got him.

The cuff springs open and you’re on top of him, tackling him to the ground and pinning his arms by the side of his head before he can think to stop you. “Oh,” he grumbles, going still beneath you, and it sounds like his eyes are narrowing, “you’re not the best. You’re sneaky.”

His compliance lasts all of a second, and then he’s fighting back— using his strength to throw you off balance and wrench his wrists free. He rolls on top of you, trapping you just as effectively as you’d done him, and he laughs like a child, having ever so much fun.

With a grunt of effort, you manage to push him aside. You turn onto your stomach, scrabbling away as you look for space, opportunity, and— if you’re being honest— something you can throw at him. A hand connects with your shoulder and you thrust your elbow backwards on instinct. It hits something hard.

“Ah, shit! Wait, wait, wait… time out.”

You freeze instantly.

Kieran’s voice is different; it’s acquired a clarity that tells you his mask his away from his face. Don’t move. You stare down at the floor with a patience that’s almost sacred. He’s taking a while, though…

“You ok?” you ask.

“Yeah.” His voice is different again, like he’s holding his nose. “Nosebleed.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s cool.”

You sit up with your legs crossed while you wait, but your eyes are still trained downwards. You can hear Kieran’s breath, a little ways behind you— so much clearer without the mask— and the intimacy is always sobering. Realising he’s vulnerable, knowable, and all you have to do is turn around. 

He doesn’t rush, though: doesn’t scramble to pull the mask back down, or insist you keep looking away. The silence, the stillness— all of it is trust.

There’s movement in the corner of your eye; he’s set the mask down on the ground while he bleeds.

“I’m worried too,” he admits softly, and you’re not sure what’s more foreign: his voice, unhindered, or the honesty it carries. You don’t want to scare either away, so you do nothing. There’s more: “I can’t leave boss, though. Who else has he got?”

“The hunter?”

“Nah,” he dismisses. “She’s hot stuff, y’know? A lot of players in that game.” He taps at his mask idly. “Heard one of them’s a doctor.”

You’re quiet again. Thinking.

“Boss always has our back,” Kieran asserts. “We have to look out for him too… That’s the job, right?”

He’s not really asking you; you came to this late, after all. It was their job long before it was yours.

You’ve nothing to do but look at your hands and listen, biding your time. The passing seconds are still restless, useless, but the sensation slips when you feel hands on your waist, pulling you back. Kieran’s arms wrap around you. His chin settles on your shoulder, and you close your eyes.

“Stay,” he says. “Please?”

His pain is harder to sit with than your own. Minutes ago, this was something you wanted. Now it’s just another wound you don’t know how to stitch up; too deep, too late.

You let your head rest against his, but you don’t say a word.

…

This was easier when you were relying on Mephisto’s guidance and not hazy, disjointed memories. The last time you were here you were running, Kieran at your side and Sylus not far ahead. You weren’t thinking about what corners you turned or what directions you travelled; you were thinking about everything behind you. Shouts. Gunshots. The subtler rush of your leader’s Evol, still crackling, still faltering, courtesy of whatever technology your attackers had managed to appropriate.

It all happened so quickly.

Every corridor feels longer, now. Each moment— slow. Your body is aching. You’ve lost count of how many encounters you’ve had, but there’s a new bruise or scrape for every body in your wake. None of it has been easy. You ran out of bullets just getting inside this damn place, and the rest has been messier: up-close and personal.

You’re catching your breath, so you toe the rifle of your last adversary, lying a short way from their limp, open hand. They never got a chance to use it, and you were lucky; it would have been loud. Every guard in this run-down labyrinth is looking for you. The last thing you need is to send out a homing beacon.

Glance around. Try to work out your bearings.

This was once a police station. Old-world. Eroded beyond recognition, almost. These places were the first to fall victim to the backwards evolution of the N109 Zone. The bones are the same, but the skin is different. Every wall is scrawled with anti-Association sentiments.

It makes you smile, despite everything.

Your footsteps are deliberately quiet as you carry on down the corridor, turning into the next room— you’ve been tackling them one-by-one. There’s a narrower corridor before the room opens out, and then…

Cells.

A short line of them— five in total. Your heart wants to beat faster with hope, but your mind is holding it back: insisting this is wrong. It seems abandoned. Forgotten. You walk by the first cell, and then the second. Nothing. The third. Nothing.

There’s a sound behind you, and you almost don’t hear it. You spin, only to find a hand wrapped around your throat, tight and unforgiving. A guard thrusts you up against the red-brick column that divides two cells, and you’d cry out in pain, but there’s no breath to carry it. Your eyes water. You try to prise the hand away, and it’s desperation that possesses you— not skill or experience.

You kick out and hit nothing, but the second time, you catch the man’s shin. He shouts, his grip failing just enough for you to slip your fingers beneath his. A few seconds of advantage. You grasp his wrist, using your other hand to wrench his forefinger backwards— crack. He staggers with a cry and then you’re dodging his frenzied attempts to recapture you: weaving behind him, seizing the back of his neck. Your foot trips his. He’s teetering, off-balance, and you use the momentum to crash his head against a bar of the cell.

Metal rings out. Flesh splits.

The guard crumples at your feet and you almost go down with him. Your lungs are pulling for so much air that it makes your throat sting. Adrenaline laps your limbs, celebrating in sheer, ecstatic disbelief; you’re alive.

Someone wolf-whistles and you swear you feel everything stop.

Your gaze shoots up, lit by hope, but it’s quickly snuffed out. A young man is watching you from the fourth cell, his arms threaded through the bars. There’s a shameless grin as his eyes flit over you. All of you.

“Fuck off,” you sneer as you step over the guard. You turn to leave.

“Rude.”

Your eyes go wide. You spin back. “Luke?”

The man cocks his head like you’ve asked a trick question. “... Yeah?” It takes a drawn-out moment of you staring at him, motionless, for him to recognise your confusion. “Oh, right. Here—” he draws up his hood and the horns are missing, so he emulates them with pointed fingers— “this help?”

You lunge forwards, trapping him in a hug through the bars of his cell; you barely notice the separation. He chuckles as he hugs you back: “Miss me?”

“Yeah,” you exhale in relief, even though he was definitely setting you up for a joke. You break away from him, forcing yourself to look at anything but his face. Gods, his face. Pretend you don’t already want to look again. “Are you hurt?” you ask. “Did they—”

“Nope!” he interrupts with what sounds like a smile. “I told them everything.”

You glance up; you can’t help it.

He winks at you. “I lied. Glad you got here before they figured that out, though. Sheesh, that would not have been fun.” His hands wrap around the bars. “Can you get me out of here?” He tugs at them. “Pleeease?”

Right. “Yeah.” You glance around. You just need to find the—

“Key’s with the dead guy,” Luke says. “What a jerk, huh?”

It still feels like there are hands on your throat. “Totally.” You wander over to the body, bending down to rummage through the man’s pockets. After a brief search, you produce the key.

Luke slow claps. “My hero.”

You laugh softly as you return to the cell, unlocking the door and pushing it open. The twin strides through, giving a little bow as he passes, then stretches his arms like he’s just been set free from a much smaller cage.

“So…” He speaks in a sing-song sort of voice, sniffing the air like it’s sweeter. “Where’re boss and Kieran?”

“Um. Home?”

Luke narrows his eyes at you— vaguely resembling the slits of his missing mask. “You went rogue?”

You wince. “I did go rogue.”

You’re still being studied warily. Luke has raised an eyebrow and it’s so starkly expressive; is this a look he gives you often? You have a feeling it is. Then he shrugs and it’s gone. “That’s hot,” he quips. He crouches down beside the dead guard, lifting the body and puppeteering one of the arms to wave at you. “Look— this is gonna be you when boss finds out.”

You cross your arms. Luke laughs, dropping the man back down with a thud. “Just you and me then?” he clarifies, holding a hand out to you.

Are you supposed to know what to do with it? “You and me,” you confirm. Your hand goes out too.  

Luke slaps it gently one way, then another. He entangles your fingers. Pulls back. Does a few more slaps in sporadic directions, and— is this a secret handshake? You don’t have a secret handshake.

“Nice,” he beams once the ritual is complete. “Let’s go, let's go!”

…

Luke is hanging close to the wall across from you, waiting— listening— as you both brace yourselves behind the turn of yet another corridor of the rival base. He sneaks glances around the corner.

“Anyone there?” you whisper.

He shakes his head, but he doesn’t look at you. He doesn’t press on, either, because it’s odd; you’d both thought you’d heard something. This isn’t your usual strategy— playing it safe. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Luke err on the side of caution, but he’s concentrating, even closing his eyes so he can listen harder.

You take advantage of the moment in a way you shouldn’t: letting your gaze linger on his face. Even with his hood up— shadows lowered like a veil— he’s still a stranger to you. You want to know him; you know him already. He’s been smiling at your jokes forever, but tell him one now, and it’ll be the first time.

His eyes open, meeting yours. Could he sense you watching? He grins, poking his tongue out at you.

“Stop it.”

“You stop it,” he retorts. The coast must be clear, for he comes away from the wall and rounds the corner with a spring in his gait.

You sigh as you stand to follow him. One less-enthusiastic step forward, and something snakes around your ankle. Your gaze drops like a stone, but it isn’t fast enough. You’re hauled into the air, voice failing, vision swimming as the world flips upside-down and you’re strung up from the ceiling. “Luke!” you manage in warning.

Are those his footsteps, coming back? You’re facing the wrong way and you try to lift the lower half of your body so you can reach for your ankle, but you’re already exhausted. Your muscles burn. After a few, futile inches, you give up, going limp.

There are footsteps behind you. “Oh, hey boss!” Luke exclaims.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

An unwitting pendulum: you can’t keep your body from turning, ever so slowly, until you’re staring the right way down the corridor. You can’t see much of it, though.

Sylus is in front of you, so close that you can almost feel the heat of his eyes.

“Hey, boss,” you echo reluctantly.

He says nothing, and behind him, Luke slides a gloating finger across his own throat: you’re dead! And you’re turning, still. Sylus lifts a hand to the top of your head and swivels you back to him. “What happened to that trust of yours, sweetie? Hmm?”

You half-laugh, nervous. He doesn’t seem quite as amused.

Releasing your head, he steps back with a huff of disappointment as you start a slow rotation once more. He taps a finger to his chin pensively, like you’re a masterpiece he’s convinced might be a forgery, now that he’s looking more closely. “Reckless little thing, aren’t you?” he tuts.

There’s maybe a smile, but it’s short-lived; the dark rope around your ankle whips you into the air. You shriek with shock as you lose all bearings, all vision, all sense of reality. You’re falling.

Someone catches you.

“My reckless little thing,” Luke grins, jostling you into a more secure position in his arms. “Mine.”

You want to protest, but your breath is gone.

“You can’t afford her,” Sylus speaks over his shoulder; he’s already taken the lead in guiding you out of here. Mephisto squawks somewhere up ahead, appearing in a cloud of smoke and feathers.

Luke gives a defensive hmph as he holds you a tighter. Then he smiles down at you, and though it’s new, you know it’s far from the first time, and even further from the last.

…

“Are we really doing this?” you ask Sylus sceptically.

“Lighten up, sweetie.” He clicks his fingers.

Not far from you, currently oblivious to your presence, Kieran stands at the door of your leader’s study, still waiting for an order. The air above him changes: it swirls with a dark, scarlet mist. Luke drops out of it, landing straight on his twin’s back.

“What the—” Kieran splutters, but his brother’s arms are over his shoulders, around his neck. “Get off!” he squeaks out.

“No way. I was a prisoner,” Luke chortles. “You have to be super nice to me. Carry me everywhere. Boss said so.”

“He did not!”

And with those words, Kieran flips his other half the rest of the way over his shoulder; Luke lands on the ground with an unceremonious splat. All four limbs are sprawled. “Ow!” he whines.

Sylus has already strode the rest of the way into the room. “Play nice,” he scolds as he steps over Luke, then passes by Kieran.

“Yes, boss!” they chime, stilling obediently as the older man disappears into his study. The moment the doors close behind him, Kieran throws himself down. He wrestles with Luke, both of them laughing and rolling around as they try to hurt each-other.

It makes you think of those old, vintage cartoons you used to see on TV. You can just picture the cloud of dust, the colourful stars and shapes flying with every traded punch. Idiots.

You leave them to it, slinging yourself down on a couch and closing your eyes. Gods, you want to sleep. There’s blood dried to your hands and face, but you’ll shower later. There are grazes and cuts still bleeding, but you’ll tend to them later. Everything can wait.

The room has gone quiet. Too quiet; you open your eyes.

Luke and Kieran stand in front of you ominously, their figures symmetrical. The illusion of reflection is broken by Luke’s absent mask, but his eyes are just as unreadable.

“What?” you cave.

“You went rogue,” Kieran states, and his brother is nodding gravely, like this is a very serious infraction.

You smile. “I did go rogue.” More shameless than last time. “I got a free pass, though. Luke said it was hot.”

Kieran’s mask turns to face his twin, slow and resentful. Luke shrugs. “What? It was.”

There’s an impasse: long enough to make you think they’re having some kind of secret discussion. Both twins look at you. You smile sheepishly. You don’t think you’ll ever really know the entirety of what goes on in those heads, but it’s for the best. You value your sanity.

“You went rogue,” Kieran carries on, as if his speech had never been interrupted, and his authority not just completely undercut. He moves closer, slinking down beside you, and Luke plays the part of his mirror image. “There will have to be a… punishment.”

The word is elongated for effect, and it’s remarkably similar to Kieran’s ‘ghost voice’— which you know, thanks to the time he roped you into that ‘the base is haunted!’ prank. (Sylus did not, in fact, fall for it.)

“Bring it,” you murmur, closing your eyes again. “I just stormed a whole enemy base single-handed. I think I can handle the two of—”

Your voice meanders to a stop as Kieran nuzzles against you. His mask is off; you feel the soft of his face and the bridge of his nose. His breath is light on your neck. You smile, slipping deeper into your seat and then his embrace as his arms go around you. He’s warm. Really warm.

There’s a weight— Luke’s head on your lap— and he hugs you too, arms lower around your waist. His breath tickles your stomach. You hum in contentment, running your hands through his hair. 

He's safe. You're all safe.

They were never going to say thank you; it’s not in their nature. Their language isn't superficial. It isn’t words spoken aloud or feelings worn on the face— it can’t be. A smile is too easily read by the rest of the world, but a smile behind a mask? It’s private. Reserved only for those who’ve learnt to hear it in your voice, or see it in the way your body relaxes when you hold someone you care for.

A language of tiny, intimate details.

Kieran has never nestled his face quite so closely against you. You don’t think you’ve ever known Luke go so long without talking.

[whateversawesome]

Some Theories about Anya's Name

Who would have thought a short chapter would bring so much information and discussion? But then again, we're talking about Anya, agent of chaos (according to her papa).

After that chapter, there's plenty of theories flying around, so I decided to make this post to compile, explain and expand these theories 😉

Ready?

Anya is an acronym: This one is pretty clear has been a popular general theory. It means that the letters of her name stand for something else. What exactly? We don't know yet, but it probably has to do with Project Apple and the infamous lab Anya was created.

Anya...Ania...OstANIA: If you live near small children, you probably know that when they are learning how to talk, they do it by picking up words adults say and many times they say those words wrong. While discussing with some friends, I imagined those scientists constantly saying the word Ostania in front of that little girl. Maybe baby Anya thought that was her name because she heard the word OstANIA all the time, but she couldn't say it right.

Anya, the foreign princess: This one is very simple. It means that her name was spelled differently in her country of origin. This theory is vague, but I do believe a third country could be involved in all this mess. Also, it would make sense for Anya to be hiding in Ostania, if she was born and kept captive in a different country.

Anya...A N/A: This one is one of the most interesting theories! A N/A would mean something like "Non-applicable". You probably think this doesn't say much, but it really does. In the first few chapters of the story we learned that Anya was adopted and returned 4 times. Instead of a child, she was returned as if she was a piece of clothing. Even though it's been barely mentioned, we've also learned that people that participated in Project Apple didn't treat the subjects nicely (see how they treated Bond). Those people called Anya "subject 007". They didn't even give her a name. If we think about it, Anya is very "non-applicable". She was created in a lab, she has a strange power, so she's not like the other kids, she's been adopted and returned 4 times...

The A N/A and Anya being treated like an object instead of a human being fits the Spy x Family premise of the story, which is: Humans like Twilight, Yor, and Anya are used as weapons instead of being treated like humans. The story is about them regaining their humanity through love and family.

So even if A N/A says nothing about Anya, it says a lot about the story.

Look at this little girl. This illustration was heartbreaking. Do you know when it takes place? It's right before he meets Twilight. We see that it's the same filthy orphanage Twilight visited on chapter 1 and this is not Anya's first orphanage, so that means this illustration happened after she was returned again. The way she's facing the door, her body language, the way she holds Mr. Chimera by the hand is so sad. Here she is, once again, in a place she doesn't want to be, where nobody will take care of her...alone 😭

Enough of that or we'll end up crying...🤧

Some other things to take into consideration about her name:

Mr. Chimera: Since this is a visual story, that panel of Mr. Chimera tells us that this plushie is involved in Anya's name. If you've read certain fic, you know where I stand on that. In this case, I think that yes, the person who helped Anya escape gave Mr. Chimera to her. However, I don't think it was exactly that character (you know who). It probably was someone else, maybe even a new character we don't know yet. It could also be a scientist who took pity on Anya or disagreed with the use of children as lab rats, and helped her escape. We don't know yet.

Twilight: One of the most beautiful panels on that short chapter was seeing Anya's eyes lit up when her papa told her the correct spelling of her name. Did you see it? Those were the eyes of someone who had just learned something new about herself and by doing this, Twilight made her even more human.

One more thing...I've seen speculations about the next arc of the manga being about Anya's past because of this short mission. In my opinion...I don't think it'll happen yet. Why? If it was the case, this would have been a longer chapter and the actual beginning of the arc.

I believe Anya's past will be one of the last things we learn, because there's plenty of things to resolve and a lot of information we don't have. Stories are like puzzles; this chapter was an important piece, but we're not working on that part yet.

[azzifuddfanpage]

I think for a name you could maybe do like “Unexpected”

but also, did she ever give azzi her legos😭😭

do you think you could write a cute fic of that and they have a lil Lego building session like they did that one live

Spaceship of Promises

—————— Hiii this is for all the fluff requests!

also thank you to @ldapper for the amazing editing like insane 🫶

Tw: none just fluff!

—————— Azzi!” Paige shouted from across the living room of the team’s suite, her voice cutting through the quiet.

No response.

“Azzi!” She yelled louder this time.

Finally, she could hear one of the suite doors swing open, followed by the soft patter of footsteps—certainly those of a 5 '11, curly-haired brunette. Sure enough, Azzi appeared a moment later

She was wearing a pink button-up pajama shirt and shorts covered in Stewie’s face, fluffy pink slippers, and her curls spilling out of a messy bun. Paige’s gaze and breath lingered for a moment as the top button of Azzi’s shirt hung open, revealing the soft skin of her clavicle.

“Yanna’s sleeping you’re gonna wake her up. What do you want?” Azzi teased, coming to sit on the couch behind Paige. She ran her fingers through her hair gently.

The blonde was on the floor, hunched over the coffee table, which was covered in a sea of tiny Legos. Paige leaned her head against Azzi and pouted. “Help me,” she whined, leaning back down to try and assemble another piece. 

Azzi chuckled as she sank down beside Paige, watching her with amusement. Her tongue poked out slightly in concentration as she matched the pieces to the image on the box.

“I swear to god, I’ve built this thing three times and it still don’t look right,” Paige sighed, tearing apart the pieces she had just assembled. 

“Okay, well where are the instructions?” Azzi asked, grabbing the box and shaking it. When nothing fell out, she raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Don't tell me you were planning on free-handing this,” she laughed, playfully shoving her girlfriend’s shoulder.

Paige shrugged, a hint of embarrassment creeping into her cheeks. “I could have figured it out eventually.” 

Azzi rolled her eyes, standing up and stretching. Her shirt rode up a little, showing off her toned stomach. “Paige, come on. What did you do with the instructions?” 

“I threw them away. Don’t need ‘em,” Paige said confidently. 

Azzi just sighed and walked over to the trash can, pulling the crumpled paper out from the top. As she sat back down, she slid on her glasses, sorting through the instructions to find the right step.

“Okay, so this piece goes… here,” she muttered, holding up a tiny brick.

Next to her, Paige had flopped down on her stomach, propping her chin on her hand while the other rummaged through the pile of Legos. “Are you sure this one goes next? I swear it looks like we need the other… thingy,” she said, gesturing vaguely.

Azzi glanced at her with mock disbelief. “Thingy? You mean the corner tile? We’re following the instructions, Paige. No improvising. No wonder you haven’t gotten anywhere.”

Paige grinned mischievously and held up a bright pink Lego piece. “But wouldn’t it be cute if our spaceship had a ‘lil pop of pink here?”

Azzi sighed dramatically but couldn’t help smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, you love me,” Paige teased, nudging Azzi’s shoulder with her own.

“Yeah, yeah,” Azzi replied softly, her voice almost wistful. “But you asked for my help,” she said sternly. “So if we’re doing this , it has to be right.” She wagged a finger in Paige’s face.

Paige sat up and shoved it away. “Whatever,” she laughed. But she grabbed the instructions anyway and began sorting through the pile to find the correct piece. 

An hour later, Paige leaned back against the couch, admiring their progress. “You know, we’re actually pretty good at this.”

Paige smirked, holding up another pink piece and slipping it onto the spaceship in the almost absurd place.

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “We? You would’ve still been stuck if I hadn’t pulled the instructions out of the trash,” she said, pushing Paige’s hand away and snapping the piece into its correct spot.

The coffee table was a chaotic scene’’Legos scattered across the rug, some kicked under the couch, and a few tucked away in Paige’s sweatshirt pocket (“for safekeeping,” she insisted).

Azzi leaned over to grab another brick when she felt a soft weight settle against her shoulder. Paige had flopped sideways, resting her head on Azzi with a contented sigh.

“Hey,” Azzi said, trying to sound annoyed but failing miserably. “You’re slowing down the whole process. I know damn well you didn’t ask me to come help you while you just nap.” 

Paige smiled lazily. “The spaceship can wait five minutes. You’re warm.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but a tiny blush crept across her cheeks. She nudged Paige’s head with her shoulder. “If you’re not gonna help, I’m gonna put you on sorting duty.” 

Paige gasped, dramatically sitting up and grabbing at her chest.  “Sorting duty? That's all I’m good for? C’mon, you love when I’m unpredictable.”

“You mean unhelpful?” Azzi teased, her lips curving into a smirk.

“I am helpful,” Paige shot back, grabbing a handful of pieces and sorting them into neat piles to prove a point. “I could totally do this if I wanted to.”

“Oh, yeah?” Azzi challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Then what piece comes next, Miss Helpful?”

Paige squinted at the instructions as if it were written in a foreign language. “Uh… this one?” She held up a long white piece.

Azzi snorted. “That’s for the cockpit. We’re building the engine, Paige.” 

Paige groaned dramatically, falling back onto the rug. “I genuinely don’t understand why it matters they all look the same.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away. Instead she grabbed the white piece paige had held up and gently placed it on the table in front of her. 

“Okay,” she said after a moment. “We’ll put a little pink in the cockpit. Just for you.”

Paige sat up, her eyes lighting up. “You’re giving in to my creative vision?”

Azzi shook her head, smiling. “No, I’m compromising. There’s a difference.”

Paige leaned in, so close that Azzi could feel her warm breath. “It’s because you love me,” Paige said with a smirk. 

Azzi felt her cheeks heat up, but she met Paige’s gaze. “Yeah,” she admitted, her voice quieter. “I do.”

For a second, the spaceship was forgotten as Paige kissed her. Their lips melted together in something that felt simple but meaningful. When they pulled apart, Paige rested her forehead against Azzi’s. 

“Even if I don’t wanna use the instructions?” Paige whispered, a teasing.

“Even then,” Azzi said with a laugh. “But only because you’re cute.”

The moment lingered, warm and quiet, until Paige pulled away, grinning mischievously. “Good thing. I may or may not have hidden another pink piece in the engine already.”

Azzi gasped, feigning betrayal. “Paige!”

Paige scrambled to her feet, laughing as Azzi lunged at her. “It was for the aesthetic, trust!” she cried, dodging around the coffee table.

“You didn’t even want my help. You just wanted to annoy me!” Azzi called after her, though she couldn’t keep the laughter out of her voice.

They ended up in a tangled heap on the couch, Paige’s arms wrapped around Azzi’s waist as they both dissolved into giggles.

“Okay,” Azzi said, catching her breath. “Truce. You can keep the pink engine piece. But no more sabotage.”

Paige gave her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. No more sabotage.” Then, with a devilish grin, she added, “Unless it’s really funny.”

Azzi shook her head but snuggled into Paige’s side, her head resting on her shoulder. They stayed like that for a while, the silence of the night settling around them.

Finally, Paige nudged the half-built spaceship with her toe. “I think we built something pretty cool,” she said softly. 

When there was no response, she leaned back, peering down at Azzi’s face. Her eyes were closed and her breathing had evened out.

Paige smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face before kissing her forehead softly.

[strawberryblue-blog]

Hey so I looked for request rules and I didn’t find anything maybe I skipped over it or something I don’t know but I wanted to ask if you could write something for Joao? For smut😭 I don’t really mind but I need more fics for him🙁

Call out my name —Joao Felix.

summary: After breaking up with your boyfriend, you have a special night at a club with a complete stranger.

warnings: YES. +18. (smut, public sex, strangers to lovers, p in v, kinda angst, etc)

words count: +2.5k

A gulp of alcohol went down your throat as you tried to forget the memories of the past that were still pounding in your head. It was the first time you had been out in a long time and you were somewhat shaken, not only with the lack of partying you had but with your feelings of sadness that still haunted you.

Your friends had insisted that the first date after the breakup had to be wild and ruthless in order to forget your ex-boyfriend, who had cheated on you many times with his co-worker. So after almost four months in bed, depressed and lonely, you decided that his life had to go on and you were ready for an adventure.

Dancing and getting drunk has never killed anyone and it's what you need most right now. Your friends disappear into the crowd as you drink your last drink and stagger towards the dance floor. The music fuels your body and you begin to move your body to the rhythm of the melody, you meet your friends again who squeal when they see you coming and begin to dance.

You don't know how long it's been since you've been here but you can feel your feet hurting and the air starts to get thin, yet you keep moving your body against your friends. It's been a long time since you've felt like this and you've really missed feeling free. Your friend surrounds your waist and pulls you closer, trying to get your attention, you stop moving a little when her face gets close to your ear.

"You have an admirer up there" she whispers amused moving a little to position yourself. You swallow as your saliva feels dry from your sudden movements.

You turn your head slightly, dissimulating as you continue to move slowly. Your gaze focuses on a young man in the VIP area, he is holding a drink in his hand and leaning on the railing on the upper floor of the club. His gaze makes contact with yours and you feel the world come to a standstill.

Too handsome.

Seeing him in the glare of some light, you realize he is a young guy, with tousled dark hair and a dark gaze, which can be seen even when you are somewhat far away from him. His skin is so tanned that it glows in the flickering lights, his dark hair is shiny and he looks so natural tousled like this. Dressed in a simple white shirt a little unbuttoned on the first few buttons and black pants, simple but formal and handsome. You want to stop looking at him but you can't as a shiver runs down your spine. He is too handsome.

He was standing still, watching you while swaying your body to the music and your gaze can't move from him either. He's so handsome that you just had a crush on him and you're curious to know more about the guy and the atmosphere starts to get suffocating. For some reason, your stomach feels funny and you start dancing taking all the feelings out of your body, you had come for that. You don't care about making a show, you don't care that he is watching you, you just want to enjoy your night.

You close your eyes moving over your body, your hands spread all over your body, you lift your hair, you shout the song with passion, you have fun. Tonight you feel ready to let it all go and start over with your life.

You have a feeling that boy is still looking at you and that makes you want to keep doing it, so you keep dancing like there's no tomorrow. Enjoying the music at full volume, your head free of thought and your mischievous fun. When you open your eyes in his direction again, you notice that he is no longer there, watching you. Something of emptiness surrounds you, he must have left or maybe he was there with someone else. You sigh a little shaking your head and slowing your chest, it was probably an equis person taking a look around like everyone else here. He didn't even look familiar, it was the first time you were in this place and probably the last, so you didn't think anything of it. You sigh looking for some air in your lungs to start dancing again when you feel some hands surrounding your hips softly, leaving you a little surprised. The touch doesn't scare you, in fact, it feels warm and caring.

Your body freezes and you feel someone else's body approach yours from behind. You smell a strong, manly scent, as if it were an expensive perfume, one of those honeyed, sweet ones that attract. His fingers encircle your waist holding you as he turns you on your axis. The first thing you meet when you turn, are dark eyes that make you tremble, you quickly rest your hands on his firm chest and you can feel how his mouth is almost glued to yours, he looks at your lips and back to your eyes, while you watch him stunned.

He is much more handsome than he looked up there, his tanned skin is exotic and perfect, his jaw is set in a straight line, the color of his eyes dark brown. Your belly roars at his beauty. He is so precious that it leaves you speechless. With a simple gentle movement, your hands crawl across his skin and encircle his face, he smiles a little and makes your heart race. His touch on your skin makes you bristle and you can see his pupils dilate at your gaze, he licks his lower lip a little teasing you but you are too lost in the color of his brown eyes.

His hands move down your body and rest on your lower back, helping you move a little. That's when you finally hear the background music again, you had been lost in it. With your hands you caress his hard clothed skin, holding onto his neck as you move to the music.

Through the track light you can see him give you a look and you smile at him too, stroking the beginning of his hair at the nape of his neck. He presses you against his body and you gasp. The atmosphere becomes tense and suffocating. He guides you with his own body, moving you delicately as you don't stop looking deeply at each other.

You seem to be alone on the dance floor as you dance slowly and delicately, your smiles shy and somewhat desperate. You don't feel at all uncomfortable dancing with a stranger, in fact, you like it. The distance between you is cautious, your faces are close but not as close as you would like.

The music is too good and your bodies move freely as you sing, play and look at each other. You felt sexy, free and desired. You knew he wanted you, he had been staring at you for a while and now he had come for you. Suddenly the urge to do something crazy crossed your mind, your body vibrated at the idea and you closed your eyes feeling the music take over you.

With his strong hand he grabs the sides of your hips again and turns you again, pressing your back against his chest. He circles your lower belly and his fingers make contact with your skin, making you bristle. Your hands caress his forearms and you gasp at the feel of his warm body so close to yours. The sensation that takes over you feels different and you feel the tingling start to walk down your legs. His body fits perfectly into yours as you continue to rub against each other, dancing and easing the desire from your bodies. His hands move around your waist and begin to move up as he caresses your hot skin, you lift your hands as he caresses them and wrap them around his neck from behind.

It's the first time you've done something like this and you're honestly wondering why it had taken you so long to do it. Dancing with a stranger was fucking sensual.

Everyone is having fun tonight, why can't you have fun too? You had come to forget your ex, to forget your failed relationship of almost four years, to forget the old Y/n. When you open your eyes again, your surroundings spin and you begin to make room for yourself among the people. You take one last look at the unknown guy who is still staring at you and start to make your way out of the crowd.

Your body is hot and tired, you need some air to think well, the lights dazzle your eyes making your way difficult but you reach a kind of lonely corridor. You sigh taking a breath of air as your vision focuses on the figure of a man walking towards you, softly as you lean against the wall. You bite your lip shyly as the young man stops in front of you, close to you. Your heart started to pound as you feel him start to get closer and closer and you swallowed saliva as ideas shoot from your mind. You don't stop him, in fact, you long for him to come closer.

His eyes haven't left yours for a moment and the atmosphere becomes intense, his hand goes to your waist and rests it gently on you. His fingers feel warm on your skin and you feel the heat run through your body making you sweat. Your back is pressed completely against the wall, so he wraps around you and pulls you to him, making you gasp.

Your whole body feels strange, your soul resonates inside you. You just felt a connection that's hard to explain with an unknown person you've never seen before in your life, in a place where you never thought you'd find anything.

You were normally an old school girl, who liked to meet guys before making any moves. In fact you were kind of against one night stands, I mean there was nothing wrong with it, you just weren't that type.

But tonight all your convictions vanished, like the pain you felt in your heart.

Maybe you were a little drunk or maybe you are tired of so much shit you have lived and you prefer to erase everything from your memory, enjoy your new life, your body, your mind. Enjoy something completely new and crazy with you, that could save you from your misery or sink you but for the first time in your life, you were willing to risk everything to feel the boy's lips on yours. His face is so close you can feel his breath mingle with yours, his eyes look at your lips and back into your eyes, as if asking permission and you just blink flirtatiously.

His lips crash against yours warmly, in a quiet, soft and tender kiss, taking his time until they get used to you and ask for more. His touch feels warm and juicy, his lips mold perfectly to yours and he caresses them innocently. The stranger's hands spread across your body, wrapping his muscular arms around you as you hang from his neck. Then that's when your tongues spring into action and they battle touching, licking and tasting each other.

It feels good. Dancing so close with a stranger, letting them touch you as if you know each other. Kissing a stranger didn't feel like you thought it would, well actually, you never thought about kissing a stranger to tell the truth. But you liked it. Although you're not sure if you liked it with any stranger. But you liked it with this stranger.

Blinded even by the lights and his presence, his hands take yours and direct you somewhere you can guess and you reach the empty bathrooms and quickly go inside. You are thankful no one is there when your lips crash against his in a fleeting, sticky kiss, now completely wild and desperate, making you gasp as you feel his hands on your body again. He bites your lips as your hands grab his hair and tug at his limp locks, pulling you quickly into the cubicles.

You have not a hint of embarrassment as your back whips against the cubicle door and the young man lifts your dress, wrapping it a little around your waist. His lips never leave your neck as you hold your tongue hiding the gasps.

You have to admit this is probably the riskiest thing you've ever done and you're enjoying it. It may be the first time but it may also be the last time and you want to file this memory away at your young age. Your eyes admire the boy's toasty skin as your fingers tangle in his dark locks, tugging on them a little.

"I need you, please" you ask in a pleading whisper.

His crotch slams against yours and you gasp, feeling electric currents run down your back. The touch of his bulge makes you yearn to feel him inside but the stranger just wants to play with you, teasing you a little. His fingers play with the straps of your black dress and his white shirt brushes against your chest, giving a little friction to your erect nipples. He takes your lips again swallowing your gasps as his tongue does crazy things inside your mouth and his hands pull down your dress, your bare breasts come into view. His palms encircle your mounds and you gasp as he squeezes them around your flesh, making your legs tremble.

"Damn, you're perfect" he murmurs against your mouth as he continues to brush his intimate part between your legs.

Your cheeks burn with excitement but also burn with embarrassment. His words sound familiar to you, your boyfriend used to say them all the time but even though whoever says them is a complete stranger to you, they still ring truer than you've ever heard.

"I need you inside" you moan desperately.

The brunet smiles with his perfect white teeth and undoes his pants, just enough to pull his cock out. Your hands take care of undoing the buttons of his shirt and you open it to caress his pecs.

He pulls a condom from his pocket and you smile as you notice he was ready for this. Anyone would think you were a prude but you don't care at all, you need him to fuck you. After placing it over his big aroused cock, you lick your lips at how sensual it looks this way. His hands take your hips again and he lifts you up, helping you support your legs around his waist. When you are properly positioned and ready, the stranger takes his cock and directs it to your cavity.

He doesn't even have to check how wet you are because he can see for miles and you gasp as his cock strokes your clit a little and then slides into your slit, smearing himself with your juices.

You both gasp as he finally positions himself in your hole and slowly his hips jerk forward, thrusting in. Your eyes close as your head slams against the hard bathroom door and you bite down on your own hand to silence your moans, even though no one has entered yet they could enter at any moment and you don't want to be discovered right now.

His cock goes all the way through your cavity and takes the time for you to get used to him. As his hands took your legs around him and his mouth licked one of your nipples. This was glory. He began to move inside you gently, moving in and out carefully as his moans came out in whispers. You felt so full. Damn. Not fucking for so many months had made you tighter, so much so that his movements hurt but it was a pleasurable ache, one you didn't want him to stop. Or maybe he was too big, that definitely played a part too. His cock was perfect, pounding your cavity deeply and vehemently.

"You're too tight and wet, princess" he whispered in your ear as he began to pound harder.

Pleasure dispersed throughout your body as the stranger rammed you rough and continuous. You felt your belly contract with each movement. Your hands were on his head, then his chest, then the back of his neck, shoulders and neck. You needed to grab him from all sides, you wanted to feel his hot skin on your fingers as he kept pounding into your spot.

Your moans went unnoticed with the music in the background but you wanted to scream until your throat was torn, you needed it. You needed to scream his name, to recognize his eyes, his skin, his cock. Damn, you were feeling so good.

"Fuck" you squealed without noticing it came out in a scream.

The young man's hand positioned itself in your mouth and shut you up as you felt the pleasure well up inside you. At that moment, you heard some people enter the bathroom and squeal happily. These were some women who were clearly drunk and were playing with each other, laughing and screaming.

Yet he didn't stop.

His hand squeezed your mouth and with your dry lips you kissed his hand, feeling his strokes slow down so as not to make noise. With his other hand he squeezed one of your breasts and you bit into his hand, squealing in pleasure. Your head rested against the cool wood as he rammed hard again, more erratic and dirty, holding you by the ass with his other hand. You were so close.

His hands let go of your body and go to your cheeks surrounding it to focus your gaze on his. For a moment your eyes get lost in the young man's gaze, in that shiny dark brown. There is something in his gaze. Something different from the other looks, as if his eyes understand yours. As if he were feeling what you are feeling.

As if you were meant to meet.

You don't even know him but you can feel his familiar look. Your hands go around his neck and you pull him closer to you as his thrusts begin to accelerate, hitting your special spot. His face is so close to yours that you tremble under his gaze, you feel yourself melt under his eyes. Your eyes want to close as you begin to experience climax but you refuse to stop watching him, you can't stop watching him.

It feels so intimate. So special. So close.

How is it possible? You don't remember ever feeling this way with your boyfriend, with whom you were head over heels in love. Nor with your other sexual partners. This was so different.

"Joao" he murmured loudly and your face with a mixture of confusion and pleasure watched him. "That's my name, princess"

Joao. You wanna scream while he fucks you hard against the door of this bathroom in the club.

A whisper comes from your lips with his name 'Joao' barely audible. What an exotic name. Just like he was. Beautiful just like his name. Joao. You thought going over it to remember his name.

"Call out my name while you cum" he whispered dirty and hard. Just like he was hitting you in your thirsty hole.

"Fuck, Joao!" you squealed as you felt the orgasm hit you.

His name came out like a shout of glory. You saw him smile with your blurred vision as if he had been the champion of the war. This was too much.

Your whole being ignited, like a flare of fire growing in you, as you trembled whole. His strokes kept sending me waves of pleasure as your soul left your body and you levitated in a pleasurable cloud. His eyes never left you as he gasped into your face, pounding and pounding into your hole.

Orgasm hit you and you both came in unison as you felt your souls unite in pleasure and passion and gasped for air as it stopped inside you, still trembling and enjoying the sensation.