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chaotic-orphan · 2 days ago

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Intoxicating Fear (XXIX)

The difference between Abuse and Power

Read part one // Master-post // Continued from here

Sorry it took so long!!! But I made this chapter extra long to make up for it guys!!! I hope you enjoy💛

Merry Christmas and Happy New year!!! I hope you all have a great time and mind yourselves. Thank you all for your words of encouragement during the rough time and making me smile and laugh while I was stuck in the dreaded prison of writer's block, but we are back babyyyyyy.... enjoy!

*~*~*~*~*

Kit heard Ambrose walking behind him. He tried his best to ignore him, but it didn’t really work because Ambrose’s stupid socked feet padded close behind as Kit walked the length of the first floor, away from Nathan and Jude. Away from the stairs Jude threw him down. Away from the abomination of healing and power that Nathan possessed.

“Kit,” Ambrose said eventually. Kit continued walking. He went through the next door on his left which opened up into a nice cozy looking library or study, or something, and walked over to the soft, navy plush couch in the far corner. He dropped into it, deflating like a balloon or a marionette with its strings cut. That’s all he was really, wasn’t it? A puppet.

Black eyes appeared in front of him, pleading, dark brows falling over them like a pitiful, sad puppy. “Kit, listen to me, everything I said and did before… I—”

“Don’t want to hear it?” Kit suggested, his shoulders bunched up around his ears. He felt his eyes water as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth to stop it from quivering like a child. He raised his blue, bloodshot eyes to meet Ambrose’s stupid fucking demonic black ones.

“I don’t—” Kit said, scoffed, shrugged and ran his hands through his hair until his fingers tightened on the strands and started tugging on them just to show the kind of storm that was roaring in his mind outwardly. Not that Ambrose had to see a physical representation of his desperation. His blue eyes burned and red flashed across them like the glint of moonlight off a blade. Ambrose shrunk away from his crouch. His eyes widened slightly. “I don’t want to fucking hear it! Any of it. Your apologies, your guilt, your fucking excuses!”

Ambrose sat back onto his heels, even his stupid chocolate curls bounced perfectly, and Kit scoffed exasperated, ran a hand down his face, and wiped furiously at his tears with his thumb and index finger.

“I don’t give a fuck if you feel some kind of fucked up bond to me or whatever, Oskar!” Ambrose flinched. Good, Kit thought bitterly. He wanted it to hurt. He wanted to fucking affect this bastard somehow. “I don’t care if you feel bad now, because trust me, we both know you didn’t give two shits when you thought I was just some random hero to terrorise!”

“Kit—” Kit lurched forward, getting his face close to Ambrose’s, his nose curled up in disgust.

“What happened to puppet, huh? What happened to a dog that only exists to obey? I would rather you looked at me like… like I was some fucking plaything for you to break and discard, instead of whatever fucking way you’re looking at me now. You’re—” Kit sucked in a breath, struggling not to hyperventilate. “You’re fucking sick, Rosey. You disgust me. And now I’m on house arrest from your crazy ex-boyfriend, who you seem to hate, but let’s face it, Rosey…”

Kit said. He licked his lips as if he had to prepare them for what he was about to say as he leaned in ever so slightly closer, lowering his voice to a whisper as he got close to Ambrose’s curls covered ear. “What kind of sane person would love you anyways?”

The door to the room swung open. Kit slunk back from Ambrose, his eyes dead and lifeless, expecting to be hurt for daring to insult Nathan’s precious toy but he didn’t care. It was worth it to see Ambrose flinch… to see him crestfallen for once.

But then why didn��t it feel good?

Why did he feel worse than before?!

Why has he become this cruel, hard thing? Was he always this way? Did Ambrose just hold up a mirror and reveal that to—

A flash of hands. Kit didn’t flinch, but his gaze snapped up to cold, furious silver eyes and eyes as cool as a lump of coal. “No,” Ambrose said, his voice soft.

“But—”

“No.” Kit’s eyes flickered back to Ambrose because that wasn’t sad, pathetic guilt-ridden Oskar speaking, that was Omen; commanding, controlled, even. A smirk slid its way onto Ambrose’s face, his black eyes turned even darker, glinting like light off a shard of onyx or jet, filled with humour and sardonic knowing and cruelty. A shiver ran down Kit’s spine as Ambrose used his leverage on Nathan’s hand to raise himself to his feet.

He didn’t break eye contact with Kit as he stood to his full height, which Kit only remembered was a good head taller than him, and then there were two sadistic giants looming over him. Kit fought the urge to shrink back and swallow. He wasn’t going to show them he was afraid. What would they do? Kill him? That would give him his first peaceful night’s sleep in weeks. Months?

“Oskar…” Omen tightened his fingers around Nathan’s wrist and brought his hand to his lips. Nathan stilled as Ambrose wrapped a second hand around Nathan’s long fingers, curling them as he lifted and pressed a kiss to Nathan’s knuckles.

“I don’t need you to fight my battles for me, darling,” Ambrose said, his voice roiling like smooth velvet. Black eyes slunk towards Kit’s. “Especially not with the likes of washed-up heroes before their prime.”

Nathan stepped closer to Ambrose, his back to Kit. “I could kill him for you. Make you a scarf out of his entrails.”

Omen chuckled. Kit’s blood ran cold at the sound. He forgot how silently terrifying Omen could be; how terrifying Ambrose could be.

“You’re sweet,” is all Ambrose replied. He leaned up on his toes to kiss Nathan. Soft, sweet, short, before he pulled away. “But no. He’s used up already. I thought he would be fun to play with, but you can see as well as I can…”

Kit swallowed audibly, his fingers tightened into fists on his thighs as he looked away from the statue staring him down, making him feel two inches tall. “He’s got nothing inside worth taking anymore. He’s given up. He’s not worth the effort.”

Kit stared furiously at the bookshelf to his left, eyes skimming colourful titles trying to ignore the stabbing pain of betrayal in his chest. Isn’t that what he wanted? For Ambrose to stop pretending? Isn’t that why he poked and prodded him until—

“Kit,” Kit’s eyes widened as he felt Omen’s ability ghost through his mind like brain freeze. He shot up off the couch, and grabbed Ambrose’s arm, tightened, pleading.

“Rosey, don’t, pl—”

Ambrose grabbed Kit’s cheeks in one hand and squeezed tightly until Kit’s lips were forced to form a small ring. Kit’s hand shot up and grabbed Ambrose’s wrist, about to beg and plead again. Weren’t they past this? Was this all his fault? Was Ambrose really—

“I think you need a nice, long nap, Kit, don’t you?”

“No!” Kit protested.

“Mmmm, your eyes are feeling so heavy though, aren’t they? And your limbs are exhausted, and you need a really good rest to recover and fight again when you wake don’t you?”

Kit let out a small whine in the back of his throat… because yes, he was feeling tired, and a blissful sleep sounded so fucking good right now. At least then he could turn off the blaring voice in his head screaming danger, danger, danger at him.

“What danger, Kit?” Ambrose asked, his voice so soft and so, so far… away, as if it was a distant melody floating through the air in the other side of the house. Kit swayed on his feet and fell into Ambrose’s open arms. What danger was right, what was he thinking about? His thoughts were liquifying quickly in his mind and sliding slowly away from consciousness. “There we go,” Ambrose cooed, putting his fingers through Kit’s hair. “That’s it, just relax. You want to sleep, don’t you, Kit?”

“Yeah,” Kit mumbled. He went boneless against the villain as Ambrose sat the two of them on the couch again. Ambrose sat down where Kit was before and dragged Kit down with him who was too tired to resist. Kit curled up on the couch as Ambrose gently put Kit’s head on his lap which was as comfortable as a luxurious pillow. Maybe shutting his eyes for a few minutes would be okay, wouldn’t it? He needed his strength after all and… he yawned as Ambrose brushed a hand through his wild, uncut hair.

“That’s right, just a few minutes sleep, and you’ll feel amazing when you wake up.” Ambrose said. Kit didn’t really hear him, but he hummed in reply as his eyes shuttered closed, blissfully unaware of the scorching silver eyes glaring down at him.

***

Ambrose continued to stroke Kit’s hair as the hero’s breath evened out. Ambrose felt his weight droop heavier against him, drifting deeper into sleep in a matter of moments. He could feel Nate’s eyes on him, but he didn’t bother to look up at him, keeping his eyes fixed on the boy’s sleeping head and soft breaths. It was easier to ignore the questions in Nathan’s head and eyes and just focus on the sleeping Hero on him.

God, if only Kit would stay this way forever.

Not that Ambrose would want that, but it would be easier. Why did he have to fight him on everything? Even things that were good for him! It was… exhausting. If this is what having children felt like, Ambrose was almost certain he didn’t want any of the vile things… especially not if Kit remained in his life after all this was over.

He was enough of a handful as it was.

“Why Oskar?” Nate asked, his voice suddenly, terribly vulnerable.

Ambrose didn’t look at him. “I don’t know, Nate. I guess… I told you already. I took too much from him already.”

“That’s a cop out. We both know it.”

Ambrose shrugged. “Think what you want.”

That was the wrong thing to say. Ambrose knew it the moment it left his lips in a tired, defeated sigh. He could feel Nathan’s demeanour shift from confused to defensive in a second, his stance tensing, the air changing around them, becoming thick in Ambrose’s throat.

“Well, if you won’t give me any straight answers, how about I wake him, and ask—” Ambrose’s head snapped up, black eyes catching silver in their void stare.

“You’ll do no such thing.”

Nathan scoffed and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “You’re impossible when you’re protective. This is like the Catherine situation all over again.”

Ambrose stiffened. “Don’t talk about her.”

Nathan smirked. He crossed his long arms over his torso, silver eyes gleaming. “It’s true,” he said with a shrug of a shoulder. An attempt to be casual that was anything but. “You always liked to collect strays, Oskar, it’s like a passion project of yours.”

Nathan’s eyes went to Kit in Ambrose’s lap, his fingers wound through the boy’s hair. “Though,” he continued, his voice dipping as his eyes caught Ambrose’s again. “This one you and your father have to share.”

Ambrose’s nostrils flared. “You’re just being cruel for the sake of it now, Nate.”

“So, what if I am?”

“Well, what about you, then?”

Nathan blinked.

“You and all your posturing and grandstanding, how you can absorb so many people’s abilities— mine, Jude’s, my father’s, Kit’s…” Ambrose listed, shrewdness possessing his weighted gaze as he tilted his head at his ex. “How you pretend it doesn’t bother you to hold all that power inside and maintain it there.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

It was Ambrose’s turn to scoff. The edge of his lips quipped up. “You say that, but I saw how weak you were after healing his wounds. You went pale after, dearest. If you think I wouldn’t notice that then you don’t know me at all.”

Nathan stared down his nose at Ambrose and the sleeping Hero. His eyes softened. “No… maybe I don’t anymore.”

Ambrose swallowed as Nate unfolded his arms. He walked a step closer and leaned down. Ambrose barely suppressed the flinch, but it didn’t matter because Nate could feel Ambrose’s stiffness when he pressed a kiss to his forehead. He smiled against the skin and pulled back.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He said, one hand still lingering on Ambrose’s cheek. He froze midway, and his touch turned bruising as he tilted Ambrose’s head to the side and forced him to look into his swirling, silver eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid, darling. You know how much I hate bruises on your pretty face.”

Ambrose stared as Nathan released him, watching as his psychotic ex walked away, grabbed the door and slammed it shut on the way out. Ambrose couldn’t suppress the flinch that time as he stared down at Kit. He didn’t stir. Still sound asleep. Unaware of Ambrose’s tremors of fear at Nathan’s farewell threat.

Oh, he knew how much Nathan hated bruises on his face alright… he knew all too well just how cruel he could truly be.

***

Six years ago…

Oskar and Max stumbled out of the University pub and down the streets back to their apartment in Old Town. God, what a night. What a glorious night, and how long had it been since Oskar could just let loose with Max like that? Get absolutely hammered. He laughed as he threw an arm around Max’s shoulder.

“I love you, Max.”

“That’s really gay,” Max replied, and the pair burst into snorting laughter. Oskar craned his neck down and pressed a wet kiss to Max’s hair as they walked towards Fagan’s lot. They didn’t notice the group of four guys approaching them until one of them shoulder checked Max.

“Woah!” Max said and Oskar turned, about to tell the dicks to watch it when one of them muttered something that chilled him to the core and froze him in place.

“Fucking fags.”

Max grabbed at Oskar’s arm, sensing the shift in his posture. “Oskar come on. They’re small minded—”

“Excuse me,” Oskar hissed. The men stopped and turned. Oskar shrugged Max’s hand off.

“Oskar, just leave it.” Max said.

“No, I won’t just leave it. What did these pricks mutter but not have any fucking balls to say to our faces, huh?”

Oskar went towards the tallest, broadest guy and shoved him back. “Huh? What the fuck did you say?”

“Oskar!”

“You better back off, lamppost and listen to your boyfriend or you’re gonna get hurt.” The tall— well, tallest of the group — broad man stank of beer and had a truly hideous beard. Both of which Oskar personally took offence to.

Oskar straightened to his full height, a good head and shoulders taller than this piece of shit and grinned sadistically down at him.

“You tell him Mitch.” One of the others said.

“Yeah,” another chimed in, “run back to your boyfriend, faggot.”

Oskar’s head snapped to the offender. He was the shortest of the group, blond – obviously he was fucking blond – with tiny pubic hairs tweezed onto his chin in the mock shadow of stubble. He was stick thin and looked like a fucking weasel with a sharp pointed nose and tiny squinting eyes.

“Number one,” Oskar said, holding a bony finger up. “Ew. I wouldn’t date this man if he was the last man on earth,” Oskar said.

Max blinked behind him. “Uh, ouch?!”

Oskar glanced back over his shoulder. “Hush. You know I love you.”

“Fucking queers, I swear to—”

Oskar turned back to glare at the men again. “Two, it’s fucking homophobic to use the words faggot and queer in a derogatory manner towards my friend and I, and I think you should fucking apologise. Right now.”

“Or what?” Mitch challenged stepping forward.

Oskar’s eyes darkened. “Or else. You only get one chance to do the decent thing.” He said, holding his index finger up, his dark eyes searched Mitch’s face, trying to convey how serious he was. “One.”

“Show this fucking princess what real men do.”

Oskar sighed, his head dipped, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. “I did warn you.”

Mitch went to throw a punch and Oskar stepped back. He caught Mitch’s arm and punched him in the face before shoving him back and kicking him away. Oskar brushed away the curls that fell into his eyes before throwing his arms up in defence of his face from another of the dick’s punches.

“For,” Max began, punctuating his sentence with punches, “fuck’s” punch and the guy went down, “sake, Oskar.”

Oskar grinned. “They’re little bitches, Max, what do—”

Oskar’s head whipped to the side suddenly. He didn’t see his attacker come upon him until he was already hit, fire raging in his cheekbone and someone was cursing as a fist drew back. Another blow came from below, knuckles cracking against his jaw. Oskar stumbled back. His head turned skyward as his bottom teeth snapped against his top and ricocheted through his skull.

He didn’t see the third blow come for his solar plexus. The fist landed and Oskar shot forward as he wheezed a startled sound. A hand caught his cheek and slammed a palm against his nose. Oskar cried out as blood gushed down his face, gasping as he stumbled back again, the world dizzy with tears as his eyes watered reflexively.

Then.

Heat in front of him.

Oranges and yellows licked against the air, standing between Oskar and the homophobes. Warm blood turned cold as it poured from Oskar’s nose and trickled down through his fingers and onto his clothes.

“Yeah, who’s the little bitch now?”

Max scoffed. “Fuck off, asshole.”

“Should’ve known you were freaks too,” one of them said. Oskar’s eyes narrowed, tears spilling over his eyelids as he straightened. He could feel his eyes go the same red as his blood and he put a hand on Max’s shoulder, stepping past him.

“Oskar,” Max said. Caution coloured his voice as Oskar stepped around the human fire ball. “Don’t.”

“Fuck it, why not?”

“Oskar! You can’t—”

“Mitch,” Oskar said. The words sounded as sweet as a melody. Irresistible, and why would you want to resist? He knew the moment it hit Mitch’s ears because he paused as the honeyed words swam into his ears. “Kiss the best looking of your friends.”

Mitch obeyed without question.

He chose the second strongest of the four, grabbed his cheeks and slammed his lips against them. The other two, including the little weasel looked a little annoyed more than angered by the fact that Mitch didn’t find them attractive.

Oskar tilted his head to the side and grinned horribly at them. “Aww, feeling left out, uglies? It’s okay. The two of you kiss too.”

“Itch… off…” the good-looking one said, trying to shove Mitch off of him.

“Oskar! Stop it!”

“Why should I?” Oskar demanded, his little finger twitching as rage consumed him. “Maybe I should make them fuck each other in the street like dogs. Maybe then they’ll learn some fucking manners.”

Heat singed the edges of Oskar’s ear, burning away the stray baby curls. Oskar gasped, jumping to the left and cupping his ear with his hand. He looked over his shoulder to see Max glaring up at him.

“What the fuck?” He hissed.

“What the fuck yourself! Tell them to stop! Tell them to forget!”

Oskar straightened. His pride getting the better of him. “Why should I?”

“You know right well why Mr Law major! You know how unethical this is?! I’m serious. Tell them to stop right now, or else.”

Oskar kept Max’s burning stare for a moment longer before the rage dissipated like smoke in the darkness. He swallowed the lump in his throat. “Fine,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he turned back to the group of dickheads.

He walked over to the group and told them, “okay loverboys. Enough.”

The group pulled away from each other disgusted. The good looking one, the one that had gotten the punches in on Oskar’s face wiped furiously at his mouth. “What the fuck, Mitchell? Why did you do that? What about Diane?”

Mitch stared at his hands, his face a putrid shade of red. “I- I… I don’t know why I did it… I-” He looked up then at Oskar who stood smugly, hands in his tailored trouser pockets, reeking of expensive cologne and tangible satisfaction. All a farce, a fake, a falsehood, the Oskar that Oskar created after his departure from his legacy role as a hero. “You…” Mitch said, raising a shaking hand. “It was you! You told me… and I- I couldn’t…”

Oskar tilted his head to the side, his smirk widening, exposing his teeth in a wolfish grin. “Couldn’t resist? Maybe you just really fancied him.”

A sharp slap to Oskar’s arm and he yelped as Max stepped up beside him, smog rising from his ears and Oskar felt his blood run cold. “Ow!”

“Tell them to forget. Now.”

“Forget?” The weasel one asked, looking just as terror struck as Mitch and the others. “Make us forget?!”

“You’re a monster!” The other one said.

Oskar bent low and said: “boo.”

The weasel actually flinched. Oskar would have laughed if Max wasn’t about to roast him over the grills of hell, so Oskar clapped his hands together. “Okay, idiots, listen up. You will forget you ever met me or Max tonight. You will forget our faces. You will forget you called us faggots. And…” Oskar glanced at Max sideways and grinned. “Whenever you think of calling someone queer or gay, or faggots, you will remember kissing your friends today. And you will also donate your life savings to a charity for LG–”

Oskar flinched when he felt a lick of heat against his face. “Okay. Not your life savings, but you will donate a small donation fee to any LGBT charity in the city and be general allies to the queer community from now on, capiche?”

The four men nodded dumbly. Oskar straightened with a clap. “Good. Wonderful. Later losers.”

Oskar walked off down Fagan’s lot whistling a happy tune. “Happy with yourself, are you?” Max asked behind him.

Oskar laughed. “Yup. Pretty damn satisfied.”

“That was fucked up, Oskar.” Oskar paused, his smile dimming. Max walked around to his front. “You know that was wrong.”

Oskar let out a huff of breath. “They were fucked up, Max! I’m sick of walking around like I don’t have this power! Something I can use to–”

“To ruin people’s lives?”

“You’re being dramatic.” Oskar said, waving away Max’s dramatics.

“No!” Max protested, gathering Oskar’s attention. “I’m not! Did you hear that guy? Mitch had a wife, or a girlfriend, what if he had kids?”

“Poor kids.” Oskar replied coldly.

Max grabbed him by the shirt and slammed him back against the wall. Oskar’s black eyes widened with surprise at Max’s force. “Don’t you see how fucked up that could be? Telling him to donate his life savings to a charity? What about his wife? His bills? His kids?”

“Maybe being a shitty person means you deserve to have your life fall apart!”

“Is that why yours did?” Max demanded, eyes ablaze. Oskar stiffened under Max’s knuckles. Max may as well have slapped him for the reaction his words caused. Max’s grip loosened. “Oskar…” he said softly.

“No,” Oskar replied. He ran a hand through his hair that had fallen over his eyes, casting them in shadow. God, he really needed a haircut. “No, you’re right. I… I was reckless and I was irresponsible and… you’re right. I’m sorry.”

A silence fell between them. After a minute, Max let go of Oskar’s shirt and let him stand up properly. A grin cracked Max’s handsome face then. “But… it was satisfying to see how horrified they were after kissing each other.”

Oskar grinned and let out a little laugh. “Right?” And just like that they were back to normal and walking down to their apartment block, laughing up the stairs and into the dingy apartment, Max struggling to open the door, having to kick it once, twice, three times, but it stayed stubbornly closed.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Max cursed, and shouldered the door open. The door slammed in and Max stumbled and nearly hit the floor if it wasn’t for Oskar grabbing his arm at the last second, laughing as Max cursed.

“Fucking door!”

“About time you got home.”

The two boys straightened at the voice. Oskar helped to steady Max before he went looking for his boyfriend in the apartment. “Nate? What’re you doing here?” Oskar asked with a big smile on his face. When Nate turned his expression immediately darkened and he was in front of Oskar in a second, hands cupping his cheeks and tilting his head up.

“What the fuck happened to your face?”

Oskar waved him away and went into give Nate a kiss, he missed him he realised. It had only been a few days since they had seen each other, but still. Oskar was drunk and his boyfriend was here, and he was happy.

Nate’s strong hands stopped Oskar from kissing him and Oskar let out a small whine. “What’re you–”

“What. The fuck. Happened to your face?” Nathan asked again and Oskar shrunk under the tightness in his tone. His fingers dug uncomfortably into Oskar’s cheeks and Oskar grabbed Nathan’s wrists and tried to pull them off, but he didn’t budge.

“Nate… Nate,” Oskar said, gasping, eyes pained and pleading. “Nathan, you’re hurting me!”

“What happened to your face?”

“Get off me, Nathan!”

Max appeared between the two and Nathan released Oskar. Oskar took a heavy step back; betrayal pinched his features tight on his face. Oskar shrunk under Nathan’s glare, horribly aware that he had done something wrong and now Nathan was mad, and he hated when Nate got mad.

“Just some douchebags, Nate,” Max said, cutting through the thick tension in the room. “It’s fine. We gave as good as we got.”

“Whoever laid a hand on you…” Nathan said, his voice small, but holding back the ferocity of a storm on the sea. His eyes bright with a cold fury. “Whoever dare hurt you…” he said, his expression softening as he stepped forward and cupped Oskar’s face in his hand again. Oskar flinched when Nathan put his hands on him and wanted to curl up at the look of hurt that passed across his boyfriend’s face. “Your poor face…”

“I’ll live,” Oskar whispered and stepped out of Nathan’s hold.

Max looked between the two. He threw his hands up. “Yeah. I’m also fine, Nate, thanks for asking.”

“Oh shush,” Nathan purred, waving Max away. “You’re like a cockroach, you’ll never die.”

“You could still show some concern. It wouldn’t hurt.”

Oskar excused him as he walked down the hall to the bathroom, his hands shaking violently as he slammed the door shut and locked it. He put his back against the door and gasped when he saw himself in the mirror above the sink. Fuck… fuck… fuck…

Fuck, tears welled up in his black eyes and Oskar felt sick suddenly. A warm feeling climbed his stomach, and he lurched towards the toilet and threw up into the bowl. Not a second later a knock at the door and Oskar froze.

“Osk? Babe, you okay?” Oskar had to tighten his fingers on the toilet to stop his hands from shaking.

It’s fine, he told himself. It’s just a crash from the adrenaline of the fight. It’s fine. He’s fine.

“Oskar?” A rattle of the doorknob and Oskar flinched hard again.

Yeah… the fight, totally what he was afraid of…

The next day when Oskar was walking back to the University, he passed a bloody crime scene that made his skin prickle and crawl, and his blood run cold. “Do we have an ID of the bodies?”

“Good thing we had their IDs, or they’d all be John Doe’s.” One of the investigators said. “I don’t know what did this, but it looks too violent for an animal, too… vicious. Calculated.”

Oskar stopped walking. “Mitchell… Dawkins…” One of the lead detectives said and Oskar turned back, and half ran home and up the stairs to his apartment. He had to throw up again as he stumbled into his apartment, sick to his stomach as nausea climbed thick up his oesophagus. All he could think of was Nathan’s hands on his face, the fury in his eyes… the… oh god… no… there… Nathan couldn’t have done something like that… but somewhere, somewhere deep down, Oskar knew he was lying to himself and that thought made him hurl more than the crime.

***

Ambrose stared down at the sleeping Hero in his lap, his bony fingers gently running through his matted hair, combing out the knots of dirt and blood. “Don’t worry, Kit,” Ambrose whispered. “I won’t let him do that to you. I promise. We’ll get out of here. Together. I promise. Just give me time.”

*~*~*~*~*

Tag-list [lmk if you wanna be added/removed}: @beatenbruisedandbloody @404lunar1216 @whumpyworld @nameless-beanie @andithewhumper @annablogsposts @whumpasaurus101 @0eggdealer @rejectedbytheempty @sleepy-pearl @n3rv0usn0v4 @whumpatize-me-captain @sunshiline-writes @burningkittypoet @honeyed-euphrates @sacredwrath @theonewithallthefixations @blood-enthusiast t t @tippytappytyping @shinokoro @bedtimescenarios @whatwhump @acer-whumpstuff @fa1rie @jesterrinobutter @xxgalgurlxx @princess-bubble-blossom @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @dutifullykrispyland @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog @ehobep

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kayzero · 11 months ago

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someone should convince me to put unposted chapters of zwg on tumblr for a limited amount of time and then kill the post after like two days

#zero escape #zwg #i feel bad about not posting this writer’s block is getting to me #if you want me to be perfectly honest i saw a meowtual make a ze post and i saw a different meowtual comment about mirakane #and now i want them both to see The Mirakane Chapter™️#but i can’t get over my brain being like ‘THEY DIDNT VOTE FOR IT DONT SHOW THEM SHIT’ but i haven’t shown them what they HAVE voted for #anyway if you read this tag i am ordering you to peer my pressure

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stellewriites · 18 days ago

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thanks for the tags @dwarvenagenda & @pricegouge !! 💓

it was fun to check my stats for this year :3

funny to compare how i started my year vs how its ending (fandoms im writing for, fic length range, themes and tropes i’m preferring, etc).

i’ve found that although ive maybe written less and had less interaction in general from readers this year i’ve truly found some amazing people that i consider good friends on here now :’) and i wouldn’t swap that for anything!!

blank copy below and npt: @pricetagged @ohlawdthebirds @sentientcave @syoddeye @gloard @wraithdance @buttdumplin @luvrodite @mikichko @lewistoferrari @disgustingtwitches

#very ironic that my top fic is inspired by the same tv show that my top spotify song came from too #like it truly took over my year apparently…#i’m trying not to push myself to suddenly go on a writing rampage bc i really wanted to hit 200k by the end of the year BUT #it’s meant to be fun not about hitting goals so this is teaching me restraint lmao #i know i’ll have written a lil bit more that’s just not posted on ao3 but not enough to make a difference #plus i had suuuuper bad writers block and a major confidence crisis mid year and i haven’t had that in a while before #i think having a community helps and is lovely in a way i’ve never experienced but it also made me feel like i had to compete (totally my #own feelings and anxiety at play. not at all anyone else putting on that pressure)#but it’s been a learning curve for me to try and just enjoy it and not focus on stats and churning out content - previously i’ve only ever #interacted with people through comments so i had quite a skewed view of ‘if i want to talk to people about this then i have to create to #get their attention.’ which isn’t true or healthy! but i know that now and im going my best not to fall back into bad habits #tag games #tag game

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daisyachain · 1 year ago

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The nature of time is that (culturally) Christian Euro/Anglo colonial consumers (hereafter white ‘people’) fetishize the idea of being ‘close to nature’ or ‘primitive’ or ‘savage’ and latch on to the idea that there are groups of people in the world who are somehow bestial or who have some kind of special powers from holding animist beliefs/beliefs that acknowledge the body as opposed to the Christian belief that the body is a kind of useless appendage to a person. We see this across decades from the 19thC to today in the racist fetishization of indigenous people across the globe, particularly residents of the Americas, Australasia, and southern/eastern Africa.

White consumers use a warped conception of other cultures to live out the fantasies that the Christian soul/body stuff engenders. You keep getting told that your emotions and physical sensations are the devil’s work? You want to get in touch with those physical sensations, but you don’t want it to interfere with your worldview? Simply project them on to a convenient group of people with slightly different conventions from you. Imagine how cool it would be to be 100% physical sensation (especially those pesky violent and/or sexual urges) and no mental burden, then unleash that in a way that causes millions of deaths worldwide via the dehumanization of entire nations of people just trying to live their lives. White consumers love a Proud Warrior Race Guy.

Flash forward to the 2010s, it’s generally considered impolite to spread the same propaganda that justified the genocide and dispossession of many different groups of people. However white culture hasn’t changed that much and normal human activities still need to be explained away to maintain the veneer of white intellectualism that has been used to justify white violence for years and years. You can’t just stomp around and clap your hands and dance badly, you’ve got to project it somewhere else.

But wait! There’s a community of people considered ‘tribal’ and ‘savage’, considered violent and bestial, who were never colonized! It’s…the Norse. Fetishizing early medieval North Sea raiders can’t be cultural appropriation, see, they’re white! It’s not offensive to replace an entire culture with white (male) ideas of what’s cool if that culture is totally unassociated with colonizer stereotypes and is in fact a culture of colonizers!

And that’s my theory on why there are so many Norse-inspired folk bands/video games/tv shows/memes/literally anything in the 2010s. VSaga not counted because that manga has been running since 2003 and is actually well-researched and comes out of a culture with a similar but distinct tradition of racism. The Euro storytelling tendencies of needing some kind of violent avatar have taken on ye anciente Norseman now that people care a little bit about the gallons of blood used to sketch other ethnic stereotypes. Done and dusted. Except the other side is that the fetishization of early medieval Norse culture is literally just white supremacist 101 and a lot of artists don’t step around that nearly as carefully as they should

#it’s the old saw about rammstein being constantly talked up by American nazis because they can’t speak German and having to write a song #called ‘links 2 3 4’. asscreed/the northman/vikings tv/wardruna/god of war/whatever are fairly harmless cosplay activities #but taken together it’s like. where is the line between condescending cosplay fetishization (not great but whatever) and the sort of #idealization/valorization/historical erasure that plays into white supremacist rhetoric #after all—look at where we get a lot of pop culture viking imagery from: it’s Wagner #kelsey rambles #this is a long bad post about me having Spotify as blocked on my work computer and playing some faun and then letting the radio take away #praying and wikipedia-ing that it doesn’t take me to some dogshit nazi band along the way #which YouTube recs have done repeatedly. it’s a fucking cesspool out there in the metal/neofolk world #I also keep thinking back to Faun (neofolk forerunner) saying explicitly that they use central/south asian melodies and tonalities #the whole medieval folk aesthetic thing is a cobbled-together vibe that was created by 19thC romantics and 20thC fantasy writers #i just feel like there should be more of an…acknowledgement of artifice to ward off the nazis #I like neofolk music. I love vinland saga. I enjoy mountain scenery and stories of sea raiders.#would love to be able to enjoy it without looking over my shoulder all the time

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jirsungs · 6 months ago

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DRUM ME, STUPID! ☆ p.js

pairing: drummer!jisung x fem!reader

drum me, stupid! synopsis: a story about a college student enjoying her life in school perfectly fine, until one of her friends drags the group along to watch their school's band perform. little did she know that day would be marked as the day her whole world turned upside down because of a particular, nonchalant, and difficult drummer boy. a drummer boy who spilled his entire drink on her brand new outfit at a party and never came back.

genre: college au, social media au (some chapters will be written though!), music band au, slight enemies to lovers, unrequited love (for a bit), whole bunch of fluff, angst, mutual pining, silly humor

warnings: explicit language, college partying, alcohol consumption, A LOT of banter between characters including sexual/kys/death jokes of the sort, reader's kind of an ass (in the beginning), jisung ends up being a lover boy once the "nonchalant" wears off, yeonjun flirts like 24/7, overwhelming feelings that the characters can't handle

author's note: hi! since i've always enjoyed reading smaus and always get writers block with full on stories, i decided to make my own :] please excuse my bad knowledge on any of these majors or experiences and none of this reflects the real lives of the kpop idols! this was written solely for entertainment and fun! enjoy!!<3

comment if you wish to be tagged for the story's updates!

profiles #1 ☆ profiles #2

chapters will be added once they're posted!

episode 1: i did NOT agree to this gc name!

episode 2: costumers of ningcreates?!

episode 3: the universe is out to get me

episode 4: p.y.t (pretty young thing) (written)

episode 5: jisung's a coward, we all say in unison

episode 6: the latte lounge incident (written)

episode 7: hating each other era

episode 8: future uncles and aunt

episode 9: apologies & new beginnings

episode 10: what a lover boy!

episode 11: love like the movies (written)

episode 12: super obvious, but still not a confession

episode 13: my wonderwall, at least i hope so (written)

episode 14: she's going ghost mode on me

episode 15: ain't no way a girl got you like this

episode 16: i missed you

episode 17: i missed you (too) (written)

episode 18: finally mine!

episode 19: ningcreates (expanded) fan club

episode 20: she fr got him liking musicals

episode 21: drummer's girlfriend duties

episode 22: i fear yeonjun's loyalty to latte lounge finally paid off

episode 23: first mistake: letting y/n out of your sight wtf

episode 24: you maam caller

episode 25: wym drummer boy has a driver's license??

episode 26: only losers make wishes at 11:11

episode 27: pussy boy stand up

episode 28: no girls allowed at rockway rehearsals! (written)

episode 29: crashed ynsung's date lol

episode 30: ning bag that shit

episode 31: drummed her stupid!

END! started: 06.23.24 finished: 09.03.24

BONUS CHAPTERS:

#1: close to you (written) tba. . .

#2: the not-so-silly apple or orange juice debate tba. . .

#3: finally meeting the parents? tba. . .

© JIRSUNGS. ANY TRANSLATIONS/REPOSTS/PUBLISHES OF MY WORKS ON ANY PLATFORM ARE STRICTLY PROHIBITED! ALL COMMENTS, REBLOGS, LIKES, & FEEDBACK ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED! THANK YOU SO MUCH! I LOVE YOU, MWA! <3

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tbaluver · 4 months ago

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When You're On Your Period- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff, comfort a/n: posting my drafts atm bc i just have writers block sorrys /ᐠ - ˕ -マ

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

He's not particularly educated in the realm of menstruation. So when he saw you clutching your sides in agony, he was so worried about you and ran to your side. He thought you were sick or injured. You try to explain to him that you're just on your period and he eagerly listens to you as you explain it to him.

It's his mission to try and make everything easy for you and makes a special effort to bring you things that might make you feel a little better.

"Can you buy me pads with/out wings?" And he would be really confused at first. He would think you want pads and wings. He would stand in the aisle for a while figuring out which ones you needed. So he'll come back home with a BUNCH of menstrual products with wings from your favorite restaurant.

But also the type to buy you your favorite snacks and drinks before you even ask. Sometimes he'll come home with a small plushie for some support.

Lowkey worried if you're going to be alright but he knows you're strong and will remind himself that you know how to handle yourself.

He would gently massage any areas that were aching. Lots of your time is spent in his arms or resting your head on his chest and he explains that the health website says its "beneficial" to do so and you're not complaining. He's so comfy.

Zayne:

In the beginning of your relationship, he was kind of inexperienced in this department. He knew some knowledge about the menstrual cycle but not too much so he made sure to educate himself so he knows how to take better care of you.

He runs down to the pharmacy to get you some pain medication and any menstrual products you need without any ounce of embarrassment. He doesn't find a reason to feel ashamed or embarrassed about getting you things for your period. Makes sure you have enough supplies to last you the whole week.

Prepares you some yummy warm foods that are nutritious for you and all cooked to your liking. He would also make sure to run down to your favorite bakery to pick you up some baked goods.

If you suffer from cramps, then he would find the best pill for you or make you effective tea. He'll also offer any massages you want on your body and let's just say this man is good with his hands that you don't want his hands off of you.

The type to not tell you that you stained the bed. He'll prepare you a soothing bath while he washes the sheets. When you come back the bed is nice and warm.

He'll start marking it down on his calendar so he can be prepared more in the future

Rafayel:

He would kind of forget periods are a thing but once you remind him, he'll try his best to take care of you. He has good intentions looking out for you and getting whatever you need. You would text him if he can get something for you and he's already on his way to you with whatever you requested.

He'll pay attention to your specific needs and preferences. He'll make sure you're getting your rest, staying hydrated, and eating well.

Would joke around and call this "Shark week." Would pray to any gods to bring mercy on him if he were to ever to be sassy to you on your period.

He'll be worried about you but he knows that you're strong. That doesn't mean he'll leave you alone during this time, unless you want him too. He'll be there to try and ease everything as much as he could.

If you were to have any bad cramps, he would give your lower abdomen a small massage while talking too it. "Hey don't be so mean to my cutie....." or sometimes he'll tell you some stories about Lemuria or maybe hum you a song in Lemurian to get your mind off it. Your head would be resting on his chest, his hands massaging gently into your aching sides.

It's easy to fall asleep in his arms because he can be so warm from his evol

He'll offer to make you a bath and gather your favorite bath bombs and your oils that might ease your discomfort. He would have the perfect temperature for you and would help undress you and help you into the bathtub. Would also feed you some yummy fruits like a princess while you were in the bath

Sylus:

Sylus treats you like royalty the entire time you're on your period. He's extra patient and understanding. You don't have to feel embarrassed at all with him and he will never be disgusted by you being on your period.

If you ever stained the bed, he would clean it up for you. He would reassure you that everything is okay and that bleeding is normal. He'll help run a bath for you while he cleans the sheets. He would never use these situations against you or even embarrass you about it.

He's always there to give you a massage knowing how bad cramps can be. Tell him where it hurts and he'll immediately massage the area with his hands. If massages weren't helping, then he'll warm up a heating pad for you and would find the best painkillers to make it go away.

The first time you were on your period, he bought way to many products for you so you were stocked up. Eventually in the future he knows the exact brand and everything you could possibly need.

When you wake up, he already has a meal prepared for you. Sometimes it'll be made from a private chef or he made it on his own. He'll gladly carry you to the kitchen so he can feed it to you or if you want, you can eat in bed.

Would give you random and frequent kisses. He knows that during this time you can go through a lot of emotions so he'll make sure to give you kisses to remind you that he loves and cares about you.

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f1fantasys · 5 months ago

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uhm so i have an idea where Lando is working out alone to release his emotions, perhaps after a bad day or bad race. but suddenly, you enter the gym, which annoys him because he wanted to be alone right now.

however, as you start working out, he kinda ogling your 🍒 and eventually decides to approach you to talk and that led to the spicy part when he starts touching you and fucked you on one of the bench using you to let out his anger 🫣 tysm!!!

THIS!! I don't feel like I've done this INCREDIBLE request justice. So someone please write a better one and tag me in it! @ccsainzleclerc5516 you would do amazing at this!

POST RACE WORKOUT

Warnings - smut!! need i say more?

2.4 words. IDK why it's so short - feel like i have writers block.

The Monaco weekend was always a fun one. Fun, but extremely busy, especially being a Sky presenter. From the Monday leading up to the weekend you'd been in and out of meetings, events, and not to mention recording and being live on air for several hours a day. But you loved it, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But now that the race and post-race shows were finally over, you still had a lot of adrenaline and energy to burn, which is why you currently found yourself walking up the stairs to the gym, wearing the tightest tights and a sports bra. It was well past midnight, but, having connections had its perks, so here you were.

You pushed open the door and stopped in your tracks. There was some distant music playing and as your eyes scanned the room you definitely weren't expecting to find Lando Norris who was currently lifting weights, shirtless, might I add. He stopped what he was doing and stood up, eyes shamelessly searching your body, but an annoyed look on his face.

''Uh, hey'' you greeted.

All he did was nod his head.

''You good?'' you couldn't help but ask at the way he was looking at you. You felt you own cheeks heat up as you gawked at his body that was riled with sweat.

''Yeah'' was all he said as he turned around and continued what he was doing.

You of course have had a lot of interaction with Lando - several interviews and social media videos which meant you'd spent quite a lot of time with him. Obviously, he was one hell of hot man, and yes, you looked, but you'd never touch. Your work was too important to get involved with any of the drivers. You'd also noticed him looking more often than not, but you never allowed your mind to go there.

As you stood there for a few minutes you couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. He'd had a shitty race - mclaren had fucked his strategy, once again, and he didn't get the win. So you totally understood why he was in the gym at the time - also trying to get rid of the adrenaline.

You dragged your feet to the treadmill and hopped on, setting a medium pace, trying to focus on something else and not the half naked man across the room.

After about 15 minutes you slowed your pace down a bit, grabbing your towel to wipe the sheet of sweat over your face and arms. As you walked over to do some weights, you looked ahead in the mirror and locked eyes with Lando. He was standing drinking his water, and you watched as his eyes left yours and shamelessly looked your body up and down again. To be fair - you were swearing the skimpiest gym clothes which left nothing to the imagination.

What you didn't know was that Lando had been eye fucking you the full 15 minutes you were running. He had wanted to be alone, let out his frustration, but that changed the minute he realized it was you who walked through the door. He licked his lips as he saw how your tights wrapped around your ass so perfectly, how your boobs were bouncing and threatening to spill out of your bra, how you back muscles flexed as you ran, and how sweat covered your body making you glisten under the lights. Lando had always found you attractive to say the least, and now he was painfully hard by just watching you workout. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to you and rip your clothes off, bend you over, and rail into you.

You tried your best to ignore him and focus on your task, so you sat on the bench and started brench pressing, heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Suddenly, you saw Lando standing above you, staring down, and his own breathing just as heavy as yours.

Before you could react and say anything, he held onto the weights and pryed it out of your hands.

''Lan-'' you started, but he cut you off.

''Shh'' you said, before walking around and facing you as you sat up. He took a seat in front of you, legs on either side of the bench as yours were.

You swore you heart was beating out of your chest right now. He looked so heavenly. Bright green eyes, curls messy and sticking to his forehead. And not to mention his god-damn beautiful torso. Muscles taught and defined, with sweat dripping down, his own body shining in the lights.

''Eyes up here'' he said, smirking, catching you out for staring.

''Fuck'' you mumbled to yourself, before you looked up at him.

You felt as his hands found your waist and effortlessly slid you closer to him, and now your breaths were mingling, the heat in your body rising.

As you found yourselves in an apparent staring contest, Lando's hands started roaming your body He traced your arms up and down, your shoulders, you back, and your breath hitched as he suddenly slipped them under your sports bra, feeling up your boobs and fondling with them.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, but that was impossible with the fact that he was sitting right in front of you and touching you. Now he was rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling at and tugging them, earning himself a moan from you.

''Lando'' you panted, needing more, almost grinding yourself on the bench.

''I know baby''

The nickname gave you goosebumps, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and smile at him.

Soon after, Lando tore your bra off of you, revealing your perky boobs. He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Biting and sucking on it before using his tongue to sooth over.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled at his curls, edging him on, begging him some more. ''Lando, please'' you said, grinding down on the bench harder than before.

He lifted his head and crashed his lips to yours. It was eager and messy, tongues clashing and spit sliding down both yours and Lando's chin. He bit on your lower lip and you felt him slide his hands through your tights to grope at your ass. By now you were cupping his face, pulling him impossibly closer. While his one hand stayed on your ass, the other slid round to your front and cupped your cunt.

The action has you arching off the bench, breath increasing ever so much as he slid his fingers through your folds, which were soaking by now - something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

''Already dripping for me, love?'' he asked, voice thick and hoarse with his British accent.

''Uh huh'' was all you managed to say, biting your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers rough against your clit, which he found rather quickly.

He captured your lips with his as he thrust two fingers through your entrance, the swift movement making you tremble in his arms.

''Ride my fingers y/n'' he said between breaths.

And so you did, you rode his fingers hard and fast, and just as he curled them at just the right time, feeling you soft cushiony spot inside of you, you felt a warmth begin to build in your stomach.

No word spoken and Lando added a third finger, sending you trembling over the edge as you latched onto his shoulder for support to ride you through your orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before pulling them out and shamelessly licking them clean of you cum, moaning at the taste.

''Hmm, so fucking delicious'''he said, smirking, as you watched, mouth agape.

''Lando please'' you panted. ''Need to feel you in me'' you said, looking at him with longing eyes.

When you looked at him again, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes became ridiculously darker and the emotion he wore on his face was a mix of sudden anger and frustration.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he man handled you to lay down before he ripped your tights off of you and stood up to free himself of his constraints.

You watched as his hard cock bounced first then stood tall and angry.

''Fuck, he's big'' you thought to yourself as he placed himself between your legs.

Lando leaned down to kiss you as you took him in your hands and pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre cum around his tip.

The movement had him bucking forward, grunting into your mouth.

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. ''You sure?'' he asked.

''Please. Please fuck me''

He lined himself up and wasted no time in slamming into you, bottoming out in one thrust.

''Shit'' you gasped. He was definitely the biggest you'd ever had, and the sting was intense. But this was Lando Norris, and you were determined to let him have his way with you.

He finally started moving, setting a pace that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails dug deep into his skin.

''So fucking tight, fuck y/n''

''Oh, Lando, yes, please, yes'' you cried out, unable to keep your moans at bay.

Lando continued to fuck into you while his mouth found your boobs and sucked hard at them, surely leaving purple bruises for tomorrow.

Within minutes you could feel your walls begin to clench around him, your orgasm approaching fast.

''Fuck, gonna cum Lan-'' you started but before you could finish he pulled out. You whined at him, an annoyed whine which you knew would edge him on further.

He scooped you up with such an ease, and suddenly you were flipped over and on your tummy, Lando sliding into your cunt with force again.

He bunched up your hair and pulled it tight, earning pornographic moans from your mouth straight to his ear.

''Can't win a fucking race but at least I got you begging for me'' he said through bated breaths, finally railing you the way he wanted from when you first walked in.

''Fuck Lando, you won. You won for me'' you moaned. You didn't care what the outcome of the actual race was - in your eyes, he was always a winner.

''Doing so well for me babygirl. That's tight.''

This time your orgasm gave you no warning. Hearing him call you babygirl pushed you over the edge, your body shuddering underneath him and your juices spluttering all over.

You moaned his name as you came, and if anything, he sped up his movements briefly before sliding out of you again.

This time he sat facing the mirror and pulled you up to sit down his lap, facing the mirror as well.

You immediately sank down on his now throbbing dick, setting a harsh pace as his hand snaked its way around you and settled on your throat.

''Want you to watch yourself fuck me'' he roughly whispered in your ear.

You kept your eyes on each other while you rode him, Lando's occasionally dropping down to watch how your boobs bounced up and down with each thrust.

''Fuck'' you hissed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

''Fucking me so good baby, go on. Be my slut'' he urged you to carry on.

Your movements were becoming sloppier, unable to hold yourself up and able to continue to thrust so Lando had to take matters into his own hands.

He was now fucking into you again, but at a relentless pace, clearly chasing his own orgasm as well.

''Together, yeah?'' he asked, his hand sliding down to toy at your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore. ''Fuck, Lando, now. I need to cum'' you said, as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

The room now filled with grunts and moans, swear words flying everywhere as you both reached your climax, juices spilling out of you like the end of the worlds. Lando made sure to empty his load painting your walls white with his warm splutter.

You sank back down on him, letting your weight fall back leaning on him.

You locked eyes in the mirror again, both trying to catch your breaths, sweat dripping down the both of you.

Now that he got his release, Lando couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that he used you. Although this was the best sex he'd had in a long time, he felt he needed to apologize, and hope he hadn't fucked up a chance at anything more.

You could feel him softening inside of you, but neither made any attempt to move.

''Lan-''

''Wait. Fuck. I'm sorry if I was too rough'' he said, shyly.

''What?''

''I'm sorry i called you a slut. It was a complement, actually. I just had all this adrenaline from the race. And you were there. And...Fuck, i couldn't help myself'' he was rambling.

''Lando stop.'' you said firmer than you intended to. ''I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. Did I?'' you asked.

He shook his head.

''Really, it was so fucking good, and I'm glad it was me. I'm glad you used me''

''I-What?''

''Yeah, think I needed it as much as you did'' you said.

He wrapped his arms around you holding you tighter.

''Well then I'm glad you walked through the door. Thank you'' he cooed.

You smiled at him and slowly got up, letting him slip out of you, when something dawned on you.

''You ripped my clothes, Lando! literally'' you shrieked, eyes wide and a chuckle filling the air.

He stood up and pecked your lips.

''Well then, you'll just have to come home with me'' he said, smirking, but throwing his t-shirt to you to wear.

As he watching you put it on, he couldn't help but notice the stickiness dripping out of you.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, more to himself.

''What?'' you asked, as you didn't even release he was still watching you.

He didn't say anything, instead he bent down and licked your core, collecting the mixture of both of your cum.

The action had your breath hitching, not expecting it at all. You held onto his head as he did what he did, before he stood back up and let the juice slide out of his mouth and into your, before he kissed you roughly again.

''So fucking hot. Round 2 at mines?'' he asked.

You just smiled and walked to the door, opening it while gesturing him to follow you out.

REMEMBER - requests are open!

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 smut #f1 #lando norris #lando x reader #f1 fic #lando norris smut #lando smut

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algae-tm · 6 months ago

Text

MATCH MY FREAK

Max Verstappen x Heiress! reader

You have a reputation for being high maintenance, Max thinks you’re perfect (oneshot)

Author’s Note: if you can’t tell I have major writers block on my kill bill series… this is why you plan folks! I’ve kinda written myself into a corner. However, I love doing these lil oneshots so here’s another :)

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

MESSAGES

yourusername just posted on instagram

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, and 5,234,432 others

yourusername : mom, i am a rich man

view all comments

user1 : a rich man yet all your exes say you bleed them dry

— user3 : at that point it’s a skill issue… if they knew they couldn’t keep up they shouldn’t have started dating her

— user1 : you females will defend each other no matter how in the wrong you are. — user3 : not fighting with a dude who calls women females

—user1 : lmao cause you know you’re wrong

user5 : I think oomf on twitter was right, she likes lavish things so she buys them and the men in her life are threatened.

— maxverstappen1 : couldn’t be me I’m very secure in my masculinity!

— user5 : MAX VERSTAPPEN!!!!??????

— user6 : what is bro doing here

— user8 : y/n’s freshly single and brother decides to shoot his shot lmao 🤣🤣

— user1 : brother run away whilst you can she’ll only drain your energy and your bank account.

— maxverstappen1 : me and my bank account can handle it

carlossainz55 : bro @maxverstappen1 thank you for lending me that 5 million euros after I lost my job! — maxverstappen1 : the least I can do brother!

landonorris : Max Verstappen let me win the Miami gp! — maxverstappen1 : No bro it was all you!

georgerussell63 : hey dude @maxverstappen1 when do you want me to return that lambo you lent me?

— maxverstappen1 : of course you can just keep it!

charles_leclerc : max verstappen saved my mother and my dog from my burning yacht, then gave me his spare yacht cause he felt bad!

— maxverstappen1 : no worries say hi to pascale and Leo for me!

danielricciardo : Max Verstappen is the most passionate lover I’ve ever had!

— maxverstappen1 : bro what? — maxverstappen1 : this is not true!

— user6 : lmao Dan I don’t think you did this correctly…

—danielricciardo : I only speak the truth 🤭

maxverstappen1: oh what a coincidence I am also a rich man, we should talk about our similarities over dinner

lewishamilton : catch flights not feelings

— yourusername : so right lew 🖤

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and 4,324,367 others

yourusername : is somebody gonna match my freak?

view all comments

user23 : isn’t the saying like luxury whispers or something?

— yourusername : why should I whisper? My people deserve to be luxurious loudly!

lewishamilton : I actually have the perfect person to ‘match your freak’ he’s equally as weird as you

— yourusername : 🤨🤨🤨 I’m all ears

— maxverstappen1 : me me me!! He’s talking about me

MESSAGES

A YEAR LATER • INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 8,234,432 others

maxverstappen1 : I MATCHED HER FREAK!!

view all comments

yourusername : yeah you did baby!!

danielricciardo : that should be me 😔😔

— yourusername : stop trying to steal my man!

— danielricciardo : he was mine first!!

— user42 : this dynamic is everything

user44 : max actually bagged a baddie??

— user56 : they’re gunna divorce in like 2 years once he realises she’s too high maintenance…

— maxverstappen1 : NUH UH

lewishamilton : for the role I played any children you have should be named Lewis…

— maxverstappen1 : you extorted me!

— lewishamilton : I helped you get the girl!

— yourusername : yeah max, was I not worth the extortion??

— maxverstappen1 : what no, of course you were! I’d be extorted 1 million times for you!

— user65 : wow they really do match each others freak…

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

TAGLIST

@forevercaffeinated-lee

@callsignwidow

@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen smau #f1 smau #f1 fic #max verstappen fic #f1 x reader #x reader #fem reader #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine

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hamiltonaf · 3 months ago

Text

Veiled Emotions | Lando Norris

(Part 1) | Part 2

Pairing: Lando Norris x BFF!Female Reader

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello my loves. I’m back from my hiatus ! Had this one in my drafts for so long and finally got out of writers block to finish it. Let me know your thoughts if you’d like a part 2 ? Enjoy ! X

(Y/F/N) - Your Friend’s Name

(Y/N/N) - Your Nickname

“Oh my days” I said aloud. “No fricking way” I slapped a hand over my mouth in shock as I stared at my Instagram notifications. “Bestie what happened ?” (Y/F/N) asked as she rushed over to my side. “You are not going to believe who just followed me” I said as I looked at her. “Tell me already !” (Y/F/N) yelled. “The footballer, João Félix !” I squealed. “Shut up ! Give me that” she grabbed my phone from my hand to take a closer look. “What the- wait a second..isn’t he-“ “Yepp” I nodded as I pressed my lips together. “This is major !” She shouted.

“But how crazy that he followed me the same time these rumours started with Lando ?” I said as I snatched my phone back. “This sounds like sweet revenge to me” (Y/F/N) said as she rubbed her hands together. “I wouldn’t say revenge, I mean they’re just rumours” I shrugged. “Babe sometimes you’re blind and I feel bad for you” she said as she rubbed my back. “What do you mean I’m blind ?” I furrowed my brows.

“Don’t you see how that dumb ass doesn’t care about you when she’s around ? He doesn’t call you or text you, but if you tried calling or texting him he’s always so called ‘busy’ ! He doesn’t make time for you anymore considering you guys have known each other for 2 years now. The only time he knows you is when she’s not around which is so not on. You don’t deserve that treatment” she lectured.

“I get where you’re coming from and gosh.. I wish it was so easy to stop thinking about him, but you already know how I feel. It’s a one sided love story” I sighed. “Get over him ! I’ve been telling you this for so long, he doesn’t deserve you. If he wants to prioritise her over you, yet he knows you for god knows how long, that speaks for itself” she said. “Yeah it’s easy to say get over him, not so easy when I still get tagged on pictures and see him all over my timeline” I fussed. “Block him” she simply said. “Are you mad ? These gossip accounts and fans will notice and then people won’t stop talking about it. I can forsee what’s going to happen already, leave it to me” I reassured her. “Ugh fine, but please stop letting him have control over you” she warned. “Control over me ? Ain’t no way, I can play the same game ” I grinned to myself. I followed Joāo.

To think that my follower count is such that youoão won’t notice one extra follower, but I guessed wrong because these F1 gossip accounts don’t play. It’s only been an hour, we haven’t even DMed each other, just a follow back and F1 gossip girl had posted.

***BREAKING NEWS***

Spotted: Lando getting cozy with Magui at the trendiest spots in town. But hold your gasps, because there’s a juicy twist —João Felix and (Y/N) are now following each other. Is this just a casual follow, or a strategic move in a high-stakes game of love and rivalry ? As the drama unfolds, one thing’s for sure: the Upper East Side’s favorite social circle is about to get even more complicated. Stay tuned, darling—this is just the beginning of the scandal.

XOXO, Gossip Girl

After reading the post I felt as if I was apart of the Gossip Girl series, a childhood dream come true. Jokes aside… I showed (Y/F/N) the post and we had a good laugh for a few minutes. “At this point you NEED to date Joāo, give the fans what they want !” she said as she shook me. “Dating for drama is too much work and I don’t do fake romance” I rolled my eyes. “Girl… who said it has to be fake ? What if y’all actually fall in love oh my god !” She squealed. “Not when that idiot lives in my head rent free” I said as I grabbed the pillow from beside me and screamed into it in frustration. “Babe you need to calm down-“ and just then my Twitch notification went off. It could only go off for two people - Lando or Max.

We shared a look simultaneously, (Y/F/N) was indirectly giving me permission to open the stream. Max is in frame on the golf cart and he starts off by greeting everyone, as well as giving a brief run down of what they’re doing. I failed to remember that my username is visible until I read the comments which everyone is tagging me and saying hi or bringing up Joāo…oh dear. “I see we have our bestie watching the stream. Hey (Y/N/N) !” Max waved. I typed back ‘Heyy Max !’.

The comments were only about Joāo Felix within a few seconds. Max starts reading one of the comments, “(Y/N) wins in life with Max and Lando as her best friends and now a footballer, Joāo, is her potential boyfriend ! Unreal.” I was at a loss for words. (Y/F/N) and I looked at each other and burst out laughing at the comment, as much as I love the fans they have gone crazy. “Say what now ?” Lando said as he then came into frame and sat beside Max on the golf cart. “Shit” I muttered. “(Y/N/N) is on the stream” Max glanced at him. “Hey bestie ! Missing you” Lando said with a smile. “I hate him” I said to myself. “Me too” (Y/F/N) agreed.

‘Enjoy Portugal !’ I typed in the comments. “Bro did you know (Y/N) and Joāo are dating” Max said as he watched Lando jump off the golf cart. “You’re joking” Lando scoffed. Max cleared his throat and coughed before Lando could comment any further. “This is like watching Gossip Girl in the flesh” (Y/F/N) said. “Why does he look good” I whined. “I’ve had enough of you acting like this, please leave the stream and watch something else like TikTok or something” (Y/F/N) said as she snatched my phone to close Twitch and open TikTok instead.

I swear this day is like a fever dream. “Are you taking the piss” (Y/F/N) said as she was viewing a TikTok. “What ? Show me too” I said as I grabbed my phone from her hand. It’s a TikTok of Max’ girlfriend and Joāo’s ex. That means the rumours must be true seeing how close they are in the video.

“So much for thinking TikTok would be a good distraction” (Y/F/N) said as she closed TikTok. “This day couldn’t be more of a joke” I sighed. “You know what I’ve had enough ! Let’s get ready, we’re going out” I practically got dragged to my room. “Going where exactly ?” I asked as I sat at the edge of the bed. “Anywhere ! As long as you don’t look at your phone today” (Y/F/N) said as she rummaged through her bag for an outfit. “But I’m so not in the mood” I said as I fell back on the bed. Just then my notifications went off. A text from Lando. Strange.

(Y/F/N) paused with searching for a dress and scurried to lay beside me.

Little did Lando know was that (Y/F/N) had taken my phone away that’s why I didn’t answer his calls and bonus of it all, she lied by answering his question. “I guess fake love it is then” I furrowed my brows. “Why chase when you’re the catch, right ?” She said as she stood up to face me. “I mean I guess so” I shrugged. “You have to be confident and know that you’re worth more than chasing after this boy. He needs to chase after you” she said as she held me at my shoulders and shook me.

“Are you going to make this boy fall for you or what ?” She asked. I was hesitant to answer, “Bestie… I thought you didn’t like him” I pressed my lips together. “Only because he’s being an idiot you and I hate seeing you like this. But if it means playing cupid and bringing back my old bestie - more importantly that you’re happy then I’ll support it” she smiled softly. “Awww.. stop ! Now enough pep talk, we need to get dressed” I clapped my hands and jumped off the bed in a hurry.

yourusername added to story

(Y/F/N) suggested to post on my story as if I’m out with João and I think I nailed it considering it got a reaction out of Lando. He reacted with ‘😍’ and added, ‘You actually went on a date with him 😂’. (Y/F/N) said nothing would tick him off more than leaving him on read and that’s what I did.

After a fun night of dinner and drinks with our other girl friends, we made it back home safely and all I just wanted to do was go to sleep. I kicked off my heels and walked over to the kitchen to fill up a vase with water for the bouquet - Lando’s name lit up across my lock screen to video call. I rolled my eyes, “Ugh to answer or not to answer ?”. “Girl answer ! I wanna hear this” (Y/F/N) said as she sat beside me, away from my camera view but enough for her to see what’s happening. “Hey you, what a surprise” I greeted. “Are you back home ?” He asked. “Yeah I actually just got back” I said as I leaned against the counter.

“At 12am ?” He furrowed his brows. “I guess you can say we lost track of time” I grinned. (Y/F/N) was trying her best not to laugh. “Where did he take you ?” He asked curiously. I then grabbed the bouquet and tried to place it nicely as a whole into the vase. “Is this why you called ? To get information ?” I raised a brow. “No ! I just miss you that’s all” he sighed. “You seem perfectly fine without me, in fact you look like you’re having a lot of fun.. I don’t see how me being there would make a difference” I shrugged.

“Okay now what’s with the sarcasm ? You’re acting as if I didn’t ask you to come with !” He argued. “Oh I’m sorry Lando, but I would hate to be the third wheel for both you and Max.” “Third wheel for me ? Why is that ?” He looked confused. “Oh my god how slow are you” I rolled my eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes now, tell me why !” He broke into a smile as he started to laugh. The audacity. “Are you trying to make me look like a mug ?” I sniggered. “No no, it’s just cute to see you get upset” he smiled. “Wow okay. Anyways I’m gonna go” I grew annoyed very quickly, I just want this call to end. “Wait wait. I’m sorry okay, I’ll stop talking” he pouted. Nope, not gonna work. “No..it’s getting late anyways. I’m gonna go. Night” I huffed. “But (Y/N/N)-“ “Lando I’m tired please.” “Alright sorry..good night..love ya” he sighed. “Bye” I said softly and ended the call.

“Girlll can y’all just admit y’all love each other at this point. I felt like I was watching a couple fight. Geez” (Y/F/N) shook her head. “Absolutely not. I’m annoyed because I feel like he called for some entertainment for his girlfriend. I’m sure she’s dying to know what her ex and I were up to, and also how she can get payback for whatever reason” I said as we walked back to the room. “Babe I think you’re overthinking it. From what I saw he genuinely looked lonely and just wanted to talk to you because he misses you” she said. “Erm I’m sorry but what happened to my best friend who was against him ?” I raised a brow. “I’m giving him the benefit of the doubt” she smiled proudly.

“Love how everyone is ganging up against me like I’m the villain. Love to see it ! Not.” I faked a smile. “Sleep over it and talk to him tomorrow” she suggested. “Hmm we’ll see” I said lowly.

#f1 oneshots #f1 x reader #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris oneshot #lando norris imagines #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagines

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cleo-fox · 1 year ago

Text

Movie Night

Summary: You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and…you kind of have a thing for him.

Pairing: Loki/Female Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Minors DNI, couch sex, quiet sex, praise kink, friends to lovers, making out, vaginal fingering, semi-public sex, praise kink.

A/N: I’m working on cross posting all my stuff from AO3. I wrote this a little while ago in an effort to address some writer’s block (it didn’t work, but I had fun writing it). This is also on AO3.

You’re not really sure why Loki shows up for your movie nights. He never seems to like the movies, even when he picks them, and every movie you watch together is accompanied by a litany of dry complaints and general sarcasm from him. This is partly why it always ends up being just the two of you—the others don’t have the patience to put up with it. You generally think it’s funny, so you’ve never rescinded his invitation.

That and you’ve got a little bit of a thing for him. You think he might have some interest in you, but you’re not certain enough to make the first move.

You look forward to your movie nights, but when this particular Friday night rolls around, you’re absolutely dragging by the time the clock strikes eight, thanks to a bad night of sleep the previous evening. Before the movie even starts, you’re wrapping yourself in the soft throw from your room and curling up, pillowing your head on the arm of the couch.

“I didn’t realize I would have such riveting company this evening,” says Loki dryly.

You roll your eyes and stretch obnoxiously, purposely shoving your feet into his lap. “I was up ‘til three this morning, give me a break.”

“Surely you need your full wits about you to appreciate the nuance of this fine cinema.”

He’s being sarcastic; you decide to ignore it because that will annoy him the most. You stifle a yawn and give him your most beatific smile before hunkering back down under your blanket. Loki grumbles something indeterminate, but he doesn’t shove your feet off his lap—in fact, he drapes his arm over your ankles like it’s not a big deal at all.

This simple gesture warms you from the inside out and sends a flurry of butterflies fluttering through your stomach. You are pretty sure nothing is going to come of it—stuff like this has been going on for months and nothing has happened—but it’s still nice. You have no idea what it means, but it’s nice.

You’re not entirely surprised that you fall asleep during the movie—you are tired and while you don’t necessarily want to admit that any of Loki’s cinematic complaints have merit, the movie really wasn’t very good. Between that and your cozy blanket, it’s a recipe for an unintentional nap.

It’s dark when you wake up. You don’t really remember falling asleep, though you think it must have been about halfway through the film, based on the last hazy bit of dialogue you can recall.

You certainly don’t remember Loki sliding over on the couch to join you. But here he is, spooned up against your back, arms snaking around your waist, and the blanket tucked neatly over the two of you.

It’s dark and quiet and his breath is warm and even against the back of your neck. You’re reasonably certain that he’s asleep, though you wouldn’t necessarily bet money on it.

You consider your options. You probably should get up before someone wanders in and finds you like this, but…you don’t want to. You are wildly attracted to Loki—there’s no denying that—and the feeling of his strong arms wrapped snugly around your waist and the warmth of his broad chest pressing against your back is far too intoxicating to give up, even though you’re currently tangled up with him in a common area.

Still…you’re not entirely sure what to do about this. At some point, you’ll both need to go to your respective beds. Pretending to be asleep when he wakes is almost certainly not an option—he’ll somehow know that you’re faking and he’ll absolutely call you out on it, which will make the whole thing worse. Going back to sleep is tempting, but it presents its own set of risks.

But then…why did he curl up with you like this? Surely he wouldn’t have done this if he didn’t find you appealing in some way. Maybe you don’t actually need an exit strategy? Maybe you can just enjoy it. You’re a bit too comfortable, sleepy, and distracted to think properly, anyway. You allow yourself to relax further into his embrace.

And then you feel his cock twitch against your ass.

It’s almost impressive how quickly your body shifts from content and pleasantly sleepy to wide awake and intensely aroused. Somewhere in the back of your mind, there’s a calm and rational voice saying you’re being ridiculous, but this is easily drowned out by the growing ache between your thighs.

You press your thighs together and try to take slow and even breaths, but it doesn’t really help. If you weren’t sure what to do before, now you’re at a complete loss. The safe assumption would be to chalk it up to biology and timing and move on, but it’s really difficult to do that when you’ve been locked in this flirty back and forth with him for months and you want him as much as you do.

You feel him twitch again and you bite your lip as the ache between your thighs pulses in a kind of answer, the slickness growing. Your breath is quiet, but shallow, your heart thrumming in your throat.

You’re trying to keep perfectly still, but between your aching core and the slight kink in your hip from the way you’re positioned on the couch, doing so is easier said than done. You hold out for as long as you can before you give in and shift your hips slightly, trying to be as subtle as possible.

He stirs in his sleep and pulls you closer, his cock pressing hard against your ass. You’re not sure if he’s awake—his breath is still coming slow and even against the back of your neck—but you can’t quite suppress the way your own breath stutters in your throat when you feel him against you.

God, you want him.

He flexes his fingers where they are splayed against your stomach. You feel the tip of his nose brush against the curve of your neck.

“Will you admit now that you want me?” he says. His voice is low and intimate and calls to mind dark silk and smoke.

“I didn’t know that you wanted me to,” you say, which is true—whatever’s been brewing between you has been subtle, more sidelong glances than lustful stares; you’ve never spoken about it.

“Don’t play coy with me, pet,” he says, his voice a soft growl against your neck. “I have enjoyed the chase, but I’ve no more patience for games.”

The slickness between your thighs increases at the slight roughness in his voice. His lips graze the shell of your ear and you let out a sharp breath.

“Admit it.” He catches your earlobe between his teeth and gently sucks it into his mouth.

“Fuck,” you gasp, your back arching slightly against him.

“In due time,” he says, his hips pressing back against you. “Answer me first.”

You roll over so that you’re facing him. The sharp, angular planes of his face are flattered by the faint, moody blue light from the sleeping city outside. He stares openly, brazenly, at your lips, his hand resting on your waist.

“What happens if I do?” you ask.

He gives you a wolfish smile and his hand strokes down your waist to your thigh. He pulls your leg up and over his hip, drawing you toward him so that his cock presses against your clothed heat. You have to bite your lip to hold back a moan, but you’re pretty sure he catches the slight hitch in your breath.

“You’re a clever girl,” he says, “I’m sure you can work it out.”

When you’ve thought about this moment before—and you’ve admittedly thought about it a lot—you’ve always imagined yourself smirking right back at him, meeting his clever quips with barbs of your own until he’s forced to admit how much he wants you. But you’re not quite prepared for the way that your brain abruptly short circuits at the feeling of his thick, hard cock pressing against your clit through the thin fabric of your leggings or how his gaze is a thousand times hungrier in the dark than it was in your imagination. It feels thrilling and sexy being here with him like this, tangled up in the dead of night in the middle of the common area. Clever quips and keeping him hanging seem like an impossibility several times over.

He seems to sense that your resolve is faltering because his hand slides to your lower back and he rocks his hips against you ever so slightly, giving you just a taste of that beautiful friction.

“Admit it.” It’s not a question this time and a pleasant shiver runs up your spine.

You lick your lips. “I—I want you.”

His smile is like sin. “Good girl.”

You’re practically trembling with want when he kisses you, so slow and sensual that it makes you whimper when his tongue strokes past your lips and into your mouth.

He moves in a languid, almost lazy way that makes you dizzy with need. He’s completely unhurried, but there’s a tension in his body that tells you he’s barely holding back, that he wants you a lot more than what he’s saying.

You almost don’t notice his hand sliding from your back to your hip and then ghosting along your stomach until he slips it under the band of your leggings.

“How much do you want me?” he asks as his fingers trail lightly along the fabric of your underwear.

“You can’t tell?” you ask, trying and mostly failing to keep your voice level.

“I like to be certain,” he says.

“You just like hearing me say it,” you say.

His eyes glitter as his hand slips under the elastic of your underwear and slowly creeps downward. “And why shouldn’t I like hearing you tell me how much you want me?”

“I—” His hand is so close to where you need him. He runs one finger right along the edge of your slit and your breath catches. “I—I don’t…”

He raises an eyebrow expectantly. “You don't…?”

“I…” Your mind is blissfully blank and every fiber of your being is focused on his hand and your aching clit. “I—I don’t…remember the question.”

You think you must have surprised him a little because he laughs in a way that makes his eyes light up, even in the moody blue half dark of the room. But after a brief moment he refocuses and his fingers slowly part your dripping folds and finally stroke your throbbing clit.

“Oh fuck,” you breathe, a moan catching in your throat.

“As I thought,” he tuts. “You’re desperate for it, aren’t you?” You nod and he makes a scolding sound. “Say it. Tell me what you need.”

You can feel your cheeks heat, which is ridiculous given that he’s got his hand down your pants. You lick your lips. “I need to come.”

“And what do you want me to do about that?” His fingers circle your clit lightly and retreat.

You shiver, your hips rolling forward, searching out his fingers. “Touch me.”

“How?”

You bite back a whimper as his fingers trace a circuit around your clit, avoiding your obvious need. “Please, Loki.”

“I need you to be more specific, darling,” he purrs. Your hips roll forward and he retreats again.

“You know what I want,” you say.

His smile is sharp. “Have we not established that I like hearing you say such things?” His fingers bypass your clit again. “Tell me how you want me to touch you. Tell me what you want.”

Your pride—or what remains of it—has slowly eroded to nothing. You lick your lips. You need him.

“I—I need you to touch me,” you say again. “I want you to rub my clit until I come on your fingers.”

His smile is vulpine but his fingers finally roll over your clit, lightly circling it. You breathe out, your hips rocking with his hand.

“Absolutely drenched,” he murmurs. “You’re a proper mess, my love.”

“It’s because you’re such a fucking tease,” you say, your hands sliding up to grip his shoulders.

His eyebrows rise. “I’m a tease? Am I not giving you everything that you asked for?”

“After amping me up,” you retort.

“And I’m taking care of that now, aren’t I? I’m touching you just like you begged me to.” He changes the movement of his hand slightly, fingers rolling across the most sensitive part of your clit. You suck in a deep breath and his eyes darken as he readjusts his hand to hit that spot again. “And you obviously like it. I daresay you need it.”

Your head tips back as your hips rock with his hand. You can feel your orgasm beginning to build and for the first time, it occurs to you that you are doing this in the middle of a common area. Reluctant as you are to stop, you can’t help but think it might be best to relocate.

“Should—fuck, yes, just like that—should we go back to your room? Or mine?” you manage to gasp.

“I don’t see why that’s necessary.”

“S-someone might hear,” you gasp as his fingers massage your slick and swollen clit.

The white of his teeth flashes in the dark as he continues to touch you. “Then I suggest you keep quiet,” he says, his voice rough.

You manage to raise an eyebrow. “You don’t want to hear me?”

Another sharp smile. “Later.” His eyes darken. “You’ve kept me from my prize long enough. I rather think you’ve earned this little game.”

“I thought you had no more patience for games,” you manage to say.

He smiles and it occurs to you that he likes it when you talk back, perhaps just as much as you enjoy him putting you in your place. “Oh, I think I rather like this game,” he says, his fingers suddenly slowing, but still exerting a firm pressure on your clit. “How hard will you come for me? How quiet can you be?” His eyes darken again. “Or perhaps you don’t want to be quiet. Perhaps you want to be heard. Perhaps you want the others to know exactly what I’m doing to you.”

You shudder despite yourself.

“Wicked girl,” he murmurs appreciatively. “Letting me touch you out here in the open like this. Anyone could walk in here and see.”

“You’d really let that happen?” you ask. “I didn’t take you for the type who likes to share.”

The hunger in his eyes increases tenfold and you know this was the right thing to say. “Oh, I don’t share, darling. Especially not you.” He increases the speed of his fingers ever so slightly and your breath catches, the tension in your hips building. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this? How many times I’ve thought about ravishing you until you forget every name but mine? How many times I’ve imagined you wet and begging for my cock?” His voice drops to a low rasp. “I have gone to bed hard and aching for you more nights than I can count.”

His words and his fingers are a wonderful and wicked combination. You reach for him, tangling your fingers in his ink dark hair and pulling him in to kiss you. He does, but with such a lazy restraint that you can’t help but whimper a little, trying to press yourself closer as your hips rock with his hand. You’re reaching the place in the lead up to your orgasm where you’re so desperate to come that you feel like you’d do almost anything. It’s a heady place, with an edge of danger and you think that Loki must have an inkling of it based on the way his eyes darken.

“Did you think of me like this? Did you touch yourself, imagining the feeling of my hands on your body?”

“I—”

He must catch the slight hesitation in your eyes because that firm authority returns to his voice. “Tell me.”

Panting, you nod and earn another one of those dark and hungry smiles.

“How many times did you make yourself come while thinking of me?”

You don’t know the answer to that. Partly because it was like…several times a week. For the last six months. At least.

“A lot,” you finally manage.

His smile is devilish as he kisses you. “You’re going to come at least twice as hard for me tonight.”

The muscles of your cunt clench tightly around nothing. You need him so badly. Have you ever needed anyone like this? You’re fairly sure you haven’t. You’re getting close, your hips rolling with the stroke of his hand.

“Tell me how much you need it,” he purrs. “Tell me how you need to fall apart on my fingers.”

“Loki—”

“Tell me.”

“Please—I’m so close—”

“Tell me and I’ll let you come. Be a good girl for me, darling, and I’ll give you everything you need.”

You gasp. “Fuck, Loki, I—fuck, I need to come—I need you—”

You’re not sure how he manages it—perhaps there’s some magic involved, perhaps it’s luck or skill—but you start to come the moment the words leave your lips. The edges of your vision blur slightly as your orgasm overtakes you, roaring up from your hips and bursting like fireworks in the night sky. You gasp, trying to hold in a moan, but a slight whimper escapes you before Loki’s mouth covers your own, claiming you in a hungry kiss. His hand is still moving, fingers still circling your clit.

“Oh, yes,” he breathes against your lips. “Oh that’s lovely.”

It seems to last a long time, drawing out in long waves that make your toes curl. He kisses you throughout, until you very nearly lose track of where you end and he begins. All the while, his fingers keep rubbing your clit, extending your pleasure and making you shudder.

You can feel his cock still pressing against your hip and you want nothing more than to take him in your hands and make him feel just as good as he made you feel.

“I want to touch you,” you say and you’re treated to another one of those hungry smiles before he starts undoing the fastenings of his trousers. His cock finally springs free and you suck in a deep breath. He’s big—easily the biggest you’ve ever had—and you can’t help the ache that courses through you.

It’s immensely rewarding hearing his breath hitch when you take him in your hand. You’re surprised by how warm he is—you’d expect a Frost Giant to run a little cooler, but he’s hot and throbbing. You stroke him slowly from base to tip, squeezing his shaft ever so slightly.

His head tips back and he lets out a very quiet groan before reaching to push your hand away. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “I’m sorry—” you start to say.

“I need you now,” he says, tugging your leggings and underwear down and off, his voice conveying both authority and desperation in a way that makes you ache.

He pulls you to him, drawing your leg up over his hip to spread you open. He rubs the tip of his cock along your slit, coating himself in your slickness and taking every opportunity to tease your clit.

He finally settles himself at your entrance and slowly begins easing into you.

He kisses you and it’s a good thing he does because you’re so slick and wound up that the dull, blunt stretch of his cock sliding inside of you unexpectedly tips you right back over the edge, pulling a soft moan from your lips as you come on his cock. You almost have a mind to be embarrassed—you’ve hardly begun and you’re already coming undone—but the feral glint in Loki’s eyes is enough to make you forget all about it.

“Like I said: you’re absolutely desperate for it, ” he says, pressing even deeper inside of you. “And you’re taking me so well.” He withdraws slightly and pushes forward again and you bury your face in his neck to hide your moan.

His fingers slide between your legs to find your clit. “I want to feel you come again,” he says, gently beginning to stroke you as he thrusts again. “You feel exquisite.”

It doesn’t take very long for him to build you back up—the steady thrust of his cock stroking your slick walls just right and his fingers expertly circling your clit is more than enough to take you there. It’s all so good and the way he’s kissing you is making you dizzy in the best way.

“I can feel you, darling,” he purrs in your ear. “Let go. Come on my cock like a good girl.”

With a few more thrusts, you do. You bury your face in his shoulder, trying to muffle your moans as much as possible.

“That’s it, yes,” he growls as he fucks you through the aftershocks. His brow is furrowed and his focus is intent and you can tell he’s getting close.

“Loki,” you breathe.

Even though he’s in the process of losing his composure, he still manages a wicked grin. “One more for me, love,” he rasps.

You’re not sure if you can manage another, to be quite frank. “Loki, I—”

“One more,” he says again, his eyes flashing. “One more and I’ll fill your tight, perfect cunt with my seed. One more and I’ll make you mine.”

His words send something electric and primal racing up your spine and quite suddenly, you find yourself hurtling toward the release you didn’t think you had in you. A choked whimper catches in your throat and you are trembling in his arms and with one last shudder, you come hard.

“Nearly there.” His words are punctuated by gasps, his hips never faltering in their rhythm.

His hips snap hard against you and he throws his head back, his face rapt in ecstasy, lost to a pure pleasure as he comes. He’s staggeringly beautiful in this moment and you’re filled with a feral kind of possessiveness—he is yours and you don’t want to share this moment or this feeling or this man with anyone else. It’s a startling thought—one you know that you know you’ll need to interrogate at some point—but you decide that it can wait until later. He starts kissing you and it nearly takes your breath away—it’s soft and tender and still so decadent it feels like it should be forbidden.

You want to stay in this moment with him, your legs wrapped around his waist, his cock still pressed inside of you, but you know it can’t last. Something in your chest aches as he pulls away from you, vanishes the mess and tucks himself back into his trousers. He slowly stands up and you suddenly feel so much colder than you were before.

But before you can start to wallow in that misery, he’s bending down and scooping you up into his arms, throw blanket and all.

Before you can even think to ask where he’s taking you, you’re in his rooms and he’s placing you gently on the bed.

“Oh, so now you want privacy,” you say as you watch him quickly strip off his clothes, your gaze lingering on every emerging detail like you’re a woman starved.

He smirks and joins you in bed, covering your body with his and kissing you deeply as he pulls off the rest of your clothes. The feeling of his bare skin on yours is so dizzying that it takes you a moment to realize that he’s hard again.

“Already?” you say with a disbelieving laugh.

His smile is sin dripped in syrup. “I am a god, pretty girl.”

The ache between your legs returns and he kisses you like he knows it.

“And this time,” he says, his eyes glittering with want, “I want to hear you scream for me.”

You are more than happy to oblige.

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki imagine #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson #loki x female reader #loki x female reader smut #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki x yn #loki x you smut

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zairene · 1 year ago

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more misc. earth 42! miles morales bf headcanons <3

genre: headcanons

a/n: i reallllyyy hate writer’s block. anyways ty guys in the delulus server for helping cure my writers block for this one!! ily guys mwah mwah <3!!

miles has enormous baby fever. no matter how many times you would tell him you guys are both too young and very unfinancially stable, he couldn’t help himself. you both could be just chilling in his room and all of a sudden you would see his face soften and a super high pitched, “awwww…” come out of his mouth. from that one thing alone you already knew what he was about to show you. “y/n! look! isn’t she so cute?” you would shake your head and then he would go into this long rant on how he’d think you both make great parents. “can we at least finish highschool first, miles?” you said. he sighed dramatically and fell into your arms. “yeah, i know. ‘m just excited.” “trust me, i know.”

miles likes to stalk your socials. yes, in a weird way. everytime you post yourself on your feed, he’s always spamming the comments with how beautiful you are and how you’re his, or whenever you post yourself on your story and you get numerous story replies after you post yourself to your favorite song. but afterwards he’s scanning to see anybody else who says anything that’s not just complimenting you. he’s spotted a few guys call you “bae” or something in the comments and he’s always in the replies correcting them as quick as possible. or whenever you post the anonymous links on your story, and someone says that they have a crush on you but they’re scared to say so, or something like that, he’s quick to take your phone and post himself on your story saying how much you loved your boyfriend. that would stop these weirdos from hitting on you, at least that’s what he thinks.

miles’ mom actually loves you. from the first time you met her, she already knew that you were meant for miles when you called her mrs. morales instead of rio. miles’ friends had a habit of calling her that and she would be this close to smacking them across the forehead. they do profusely apologize after but the first impression would always leave a bad taste in her mouth. now, she asks miles to bring you over all the time and she even calls you her second daughter.

miles isn’t a ‘going outside of his house for every date kind of guy.’ he’s more of a wanting to just come to your house and chill in your room while y’all watch and rant about movies. his favorite date with you was when you listened to the new brent faiyaz album, wasteland, while he watched you braid your hair. of course you both go to the movies or the mall every now and then—but he just wanted to be alone with you with no one else around because that’s how it always feels to be with you.

🏷️ TAGLIST :: @dojathascammer @pnkweb @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @chinieh @naijagrl @looking4chanel @pixieplush17 @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav @banqnaz @edgyficuselastica @padfootpottah99 @anikaluv @s-surreality @tourbug @fiannee @sakaur-i

TAGLIST FORM

#[♩] irene’s works.#spiderman atsv #spiderman atsv fanfiction #spiderman atsv x reader #spiderman atsv x black reader #spiderman atsv x black fem reader #miles morales angst #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black reader #miles morales x black fem reader #earth 42 miles morales angst #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x black reader #earth 42 miles morales x black fem reader

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neptuneiris · 1 month ago

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could you pretend to be in love? (10/10)

The Realization

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: prom is coming and so is the end of a stage in your life. surprises and unexpected conversations take place, the question is, are you able to forgive in order to move on?

word count: 9.7k

previous part • series masterlist

this is not a drill, it's really happening!

first of all, i want to apologize for having left this story aside without finishing it. it wasn't something i decided, the writer's block precisely in this fic made me not try anymore for a while, mostly to clear my mind and my ideas, because i had no idea what to write after chapter nine 💀

so I hope you really forgive me and enjoy the last chapter 🥺 it has been an honor to have given you this little fic, I really enjoyed writing it despite the little mental breakdowns I had haha

and just like my other stories, I keep it in my heart and it will always be here for whenever you want to reread (I will make sure to post it in AO3, don't worry) i'm also thinking of doing a poll about the epilogue where you guys will decide if you want one or prefer this ending. let me know after you finish reading the chapter 🤗

enjoy and I look forward to your comments!

It still all feels like a bad dream that you can't wake up from. An unwanted dream. A nightmare.

And every time a new day comes, you feel like a human being who does everything in automatic mode, not because you really want to.

In front of your dad you must pretend that everything is fine, but as soon as you leave home and get to school, you feel a huge weight and a sadness that nothing and no one can take away from you.

You feel the stares of some people on you, if not all of them. But the truth is that you feel so emotionally drained that you don't even pay attention to them.

Many would say that not being accepted to a college doesn't mean it's the end of the world. Nor does it mean that your chances are over because there is still too much time to be able to do everything you want.

And you accept that they are right. All is not lost because you didn't get accepted.

When you were rejected the first time when you applied in conjunction with the scholarship, disillusionment sets in. There is disappointment in yourself for not being enough and there is this question that constantly floats in your mind; why others do and I don't? Why am I not worthy of the same fate as them?

Maybe it's age, but it's inevitable to feel that rejection and failure after having so many plans and having in mind the idea of making your dad proud by telling him that you've been accepted to college.

And not just any college, but Citadel.

But so far, you haven't had the courage to tell him instead that you won't go to any college. You just can't. You don't know what exactly you'll tell him and you don't want to face it yet. You don't want to see his disappointed face so you need more time.

So instead of dreams and aspirations, as well as preparing to live a college life, you prepare and focus on getting a job. You don't see employment as a bad thing either. You just wish you didn't have to focus on it right now.

You haven't talked to Aemond either. You haven't even seen him.

You're in some classes together. But you barely pay attention. Even though you used to notice his presence before and now, unconsciously, you ignore it. Now your mind is too busy with your worries.

It's like being in a disconnect. You are just there, existing. But you barely talk, barely react and barely do. You just want classes to end soon so you can go home.

Of course, he hasn't stopped trying.

He wants to talk to you, but you won't let him. You just don't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Even though you feel that emptiness he has left, you immediately force yourself not to think about it.

It's like pain and confusion mixed together, but your pride and that same pain makes you prefer to stay away.

You don't even care anymore what people say about him and you. It's obvious that the two of you are no longer in a 'relationship'. No one knows what happened and neither one of you is clarifying anything.

Which you are grateful for, so as not to feed the topic in the whole school.

Meanwhile, Alysanne and Cregan are almost always around you, trying to cheer you up and make you endure school better. You couldn't be more grateful for both of them either.

"So what are your plans for the weekend?"

Alysanne asks as the three of you are sitting on a bench in the outside courtyard. On the bench where you and Aemond made the fake relationship contract, precisely. But you try not to focus on that as the three of you eat lunch.

"We're going to the movies, did you forget already?" asks Cregan, confused.

"Huh? This weekend?"

"You forgot," he assures her.

"I didn't forget!" she lies, nervous.

"We agreed to go on Saturday. To the ten o'clock function for the horror movie."

Oh yes, the two of them are dating. Just as you and Aemond have 'broken up', so you try not to feel more distressed about it.

"Do you want to come, Y/N?"

You raise your gaze to Alysanne, confused, who gives you a smile.

"It's a date, isn't it? Just the two of you."

"We'll have more dates," she makes a nonchalant gesture.

Poor Cregan.

"Besides, it would do you good to clear your head a bit. So, what better than going to the movies? Right, Cregan?"

"Yeah, it'll do you good," he nods.

"No, thank you," you say softly, "I don't want to interfere with your dates. Besides, I'm not in the mood to go out. I'd rather stay home."

"You're not going to interfere with anything. Besides, you've stayed home enough days," she reproaches you, "Come on. Even one night. We'll have a great time."

"If you don't want to go to the movies, we can go somewhere else," Cregan proposes.

You grimace slightly.

"No, thank you. I..." you sigh, "I really appreciate it, guys. But I'd rather stay home."

Staying home to look for a proper job and plan to tell your dad you won't be going to college, like you've been doing for the past few days.

"Are you sure?" Alysanne looks at you not entirely convinced.

"Yeah," you shrug, "Don't worry about me."

"Of course I worry about you."

"You should focus on your date," you say as you give Cregan a meaningful look.

"Totally," Cregan nods, "In fact, she'll plan the next date."

"What?" she looks at him in horror.

"What you heard."

"And why me?"

"Because I always do."

Your talk with them doesn't last long as soon the bell rings and they head off to their respective classes, except for you, who has a free hour.

So you stand on the bench alone, just looking outside and nothing else, enjoying your lunch unhurriedly and in peace and quiet.

You let out a long breath and distract yourself for a few moments in your social networks, watching as some people post their reactions from when they were accepted to colleges. Everyone screams, smiles and cries of happiness with their families.

Except for others who quietly show how they were not accepted. But they open more emails and get accepted to other colleges.

You wish you were part of them.

You close those apps and go to Tiktok to distract yourself for a while by watching funny videos or storytimes.

When suddenly, you hear footsteps approaching behind you, which catches your attention. You turn your head, peeking over your shoulder and then you see him, Aemond.

He stops as soon as your eyes look directly into his, as if you've caught him in the act of robbery. Which reveals how very cautious he was being to approach and not scare you.

You see the uncertainty in his gaze, the insecurity and the wariness all at the same time. Which is rare for him, as he doesn't allow himself to look so vulnerable. But you understand why he's this way with you.

First you think about getting up and leaving him with the word in his mouth, like you've been doing lately. But for some reason, it's like finally your mind resigns and your body will force you to stay where you're sitting. And you don't even know why.

Or maybe it's because he's begging you with his gaze not to leave and listen to what he has to say after so many weeks.

Inevitably your nerves invade you and neither he nor you say anything for a few long seconds. He just stands still, as if testing the waters, waiting to see if you will move away from him again attentively.

Then he swallows hard and watches you with a sad but hopeful expression.

“Can I come closer?”

You press your lips together, think about it for a few seconds and finally give him a barely visible nod.

You turn your gaze to the front and begin to put your tupper with food in your backpack. While at the same time Aemond approaches you, cautious but firm. And surprised that you are allowing him to do this.

You let out a long breath and bring a hand to your hair, nervous, not knowing why.

Then he steps in front of you and only at that moment, you realize he has a folder in his hand. A folder that he sets down on the table in front of you, with smooth, cautious movements.

“I just came to drop this off for you. Nothing else.”

You raise your gaze to look at it confused for a moment, then look back down at the folder in front of you.

“It's the paperwork you need to submit to finalize the scholarship process,” he says softly, “Classes start in two months and by now you should have received an email from the university with all the information as an incoming student.”

Wait, what?

Your mind immediately questions, as you frown more and feel your heart start to beat too fast.

“What are you talking about?” you ask in a low murmur, not understanding.

And Aemond lets out a long breath.

“I'm keeping my promise.”

His words echo steadily in your mind.

And you dare to raise your gaze to him again, confused, serious and incredulous. And what he does is lower his gaze, sorrowful and unsure. However… he is firm with what he is saying.

Then a tingle begins to run through your hands, at the same time as you feel the nervousness sweep through your body like a wave. You part your lips as you look at the folder in front of you and with trembling hands, you pick it up and open it.

The first thing you see is the university logo and an overwhelming sensation sweeps over your body and mind as you see what appears to be a letter addressed to you.

Miss. Y/N Y/L/N, Faculty of Law. Official documentation for the scholarship process.

You feel the air you were holding in your lungs slowly leave your mouth. And a huge weight that you felt in your chest is lifted, allowing you to rest and breathe properly.

At first, you think your mind is playing a joke on you. You think he's doing it. But… this is real. More real than you can imagine.

“I know I didn't do things the right way…

Aemond begins to speak, noticing the mix of shock and confusion in your gaze, breathing hard through your mouth.

“I know I took you for granted and that I hurt you,” he says softly, “But that was never my intention, Y/N. I-I… I thought I would get everything under control. That I would work it out and get everything done on time. But, it's just… I don't even have justification.”

You feel tears begin to form in your eyes. But you control yourself. You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to let his words make you break down in tears.

As if the fact that you have in front of you one of the papers confirming and assuring you that you will finally go to the college of your dreams isn't enough.

“I should have acted sooner and looked for solutions. I should have been honest with you from the beginning. And you don't know how sorry I am,” he says softly and vulnerably, his gaze lowered, ”I also don't expect you to forgive me for keeping a promise and asking for forgiveness. I know I fucked up and things can never go back to the way they were. But I just want you to know…” he takes a moment, "That I really did fall in love with you."

Fuck.

“What I felt for you was real. It was never a game or a pretense. I was just… afraid,” he admits, ”Afraid of fucking up what we had. Afraid it would all fall apart if I told you the truth. But… I ruined everything,” he says with a resigned tone, ”You don't have to talk to me again either if you don't want to. You don't owe me anything. I just wanted to tell you the truth and let you know how sorry I am.”

Each word echoes in your mind, with the weight of his regret and his sincerity. You feel the tremble in your body, not helping the fact that you are still staring at the college sheet addressed to your name.

And you hold back, trying to calm the chaos being unleashed inside you by his words.

When he doesn't say anything else, you certainly won't and you both fall silent for a moment, as the weight of his words and the meaning of them fill the space. Until he speaks again.

“I won't bother you anymore,” he moves forward a bit back to the way he came, “Best of luck at Citadel. You deserve it, you really do,” he tells you with a small smile that is sad but genuine at the same time.

Then his figure disappears from your field of vision and you hear him start to walk away. And at that moment, the world seems to stop for you.

Unable to help yourself, you turn your head and watch him walk away with tears in your eyes. There is something in his walk, in that slight slope of his shoulders, that screams the burden he carries. And you don't know why, but… you want to call him, to tell him something that will ease the knot you both feel.

However, you know that won't fix anything.

You feel the air leave you, his words still echoing in your mind. You stare at the folder again, trying to remember what this achievement meant to you before this moment, before he came and stirred all the emotions in you.

You try to be strong, you try not to let this affect you more than it should, you think of the positive. But you can't.

So still in disbelief, excitement, sadness and with all your emotions mixed up, you take your phone, unlock it and open your emails app. And there, your most recent email, you read: Citadel University.

With your hands shaking, you press the email and read in slightly larger letters: Welcome to Citadel University! Miss Y/N, Y/L/N. Faculty of Law, Registration number: 31982.

Then, finally, you can't hold back the tears any longer and you put a hand to your mouth, letting them out, with confused and intense feelings coming over you.

Your father's loving and proud words, hugs and kisses make you smile.

It took you four days to finally break the news to him. And seeing him so happy, excited and proud, made you finally stop feeling so bad for even a moment. You also broke the news to Alysanne and Cregan, who were very happy for you.

Neither of them mentioned Aemond, which you appreciated. But there is the clear acknowledgement to him for making this possible.

You obviously left the job search behind and instead started contacting the university. You sent the missing and necessary documents, they sent you information about the scholarship, your schedule, classes and also about your dorm.

It's like finally this void in your chest is being filled as you finally see this all happening. And as you look at the pictures of the university, with old, elegant and modern architecture at the same time, that excitement rises in you.

However, what you feel is not happiness in its entirety.

In fact, you feel in the middle of a crossroads; joy is mixed with sadness. And the satisfaction of fulfilling the dream feels incomplete.

The worst part is that you know why.

But you don't think about it too much either. You don't want to. On the contrary, you force yourself to repeat over and over again that this was the plan all along. You force yourself to enjoy it and get excited.

You force yourself to think that what happened outside of getting into the college of your dreams was for a reason, but in the end you got what you really wanted.

But, deep down inside, you think about how you wish things could have been different.

At the same time, prom is just around the corner.

At first, you thought about not attending, but of course, Alysanne wouldn't let you think about it anymore. She dragged you with her to the dress store and sentenced that it will be a date of three, her, Cregan and you.

You tried to persuade her, to make her understand that Cregan only wants her as his date. But, of course, Cregan as the great friend he also is, told you it would be fun.

Certainly neither he nor you nor Alysanne have ever been on a three-way date and he told you; what better than to try it at the prom?

The prom preparations are done. Now the important thing is to turn in final projects and get rid of all the pending with the professors.

And that's what you're doing now.

With your headphones on and a notebook along with a book on your table, you're about to finish a long, boring project. When you notice how a figure suddenly obscures your workspace and you raise your gaze almost instantly, curious.

Helaena.

You remove your headphones, surprised to see her as she smiles softly at you.

“Hi,” you say to her in a soft tone, putting your project aside for a moment.

“Hi,” she says to you in the same soft tone, ”I… am I interrupting you?”

“Oh no,” you say nonchalantly, “I mean, yes, but I'm just about to finish it anyway. Don't worry.”

She looks at you a little unsure.

“Are you sure? It's just… I don't know,“ she shrugs, 'It's been a while since we last talked and I didn't know if I could come up to you.”

Again you ignore the small sharp pain in your chest at the memory of Aemond and try to look like you're not at all affected by having his sister in front of you.

“Yeah, well…” you try to smile a little, ”Things have been… intense lately.”

She nods as she takes a seat across from you.

“So it's official?” she asks you with a sad tone as she watches you with a sad little smile, “Like, I mean… you and my brother aren't coming back together?”

This time, the sharp pain in your chest is stronger and more persistent. As well as her question hits you like a wave.

How can you tell her that, in reality, everything you and Aemond had was false? That it was all part of an agreement?

The guilt begins to consume you as you see her face full of expectations and the worst thing is that it's not something you should tell her. That should be Aemond. But, still, you feel the urge to cry and you feel the need to finally tell her the truth, for the sake of everyone who made you believe the fake relationship.

“Helaena…” you begin, your voice barely a whisper, ”I-I… need to be honest with you.”

You take a breath, expecting the worst and imagining a series of difficult emotions to deal with.

“This whole thing between Aemond and I… it was fake,” you speak fearfully and sorrowfully, ”We were just… pretending for our own convenience. It wasn't…” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment heavily, ”It wasn't real.”

You expected surprise, indignation, incredulity, anger, and more, all at the same time. But to your greatest surprise and bewilderment, she doesn't seem remotely surprised. Instead, she just smiles softly at you, full of understanding, as if she's been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“I already knew that,” she tells you in a serene tone that disarms you.

You feel your lungs hold all your air and you watch her completely stunned, surprised and confused with your parted lips. Then you blink, processing her words.

“What?”

“Aemond told me everything the moment you set up your rules,” she replies calmly, “The truth is, he never hides anything from me. He can't. So I already knew what you both were doing from the beginning.”

You continue to watch her in shock and disbelief, unable to believe it, trying to understand how she could have kept this to herself so naturally.

And in that moment, with disbelief and surprise beating in your chest, you realize that in every single conversation you had with her, right here at school, at parties, even at that family dinner that ended in disaster thanks to Aegon's drunkenness… she had always known.

“Though I don't always approve of his decisions, I understood why he did it… and why you did too.”

But your mind is still short-circuiting, processing and comprehending.

You relive in your mind every moment you went out of your way to pretend, believing you were fooling everyone, especially her. And yet, there's Helaena, looking at you with an expression of calm and empathy that completely disarms you.

“So you knew?” you are able to formulate in asking in a breathy whisper.

She nods, smiling softly.

“Easy, only I knew.“

“And you're not upset?” you ask confused, still waiting for some sign of reproach.

“Not at all. On the contrary, I'm relieved,” she tells you honestly, ”People made fun of Aemond after Alys. And, well, that left a mark on him. You know what rumors are like here.”

“Oh, believe me I do.”

“And they made him miserable. It also didn't help at all that Alys was his first girlfriend and his first formal relationship but the two of them didn't love each other, it was just obsession and whim,” she says absurdly, "And with you, at least, he got some peace back, even if it was temporary."

“But then…” you look at her blankly, “Why did you ask me if we'll get back together?”

Helaena sighs, her gaze soft but intense.

“Because in the end the two of you really fell in love. I saw you at Dragonstone and it was… too obvious.”

You remain silent, remembering those moments.

Both of you walking through those historical corridors, seeing and learning absolutely everything about old Valyria. Both holding hands, fascinated in the aquarium watching everything around or walking together on the shore of the beach, laughing, exchanging glances, hugging and kissing every now and then that everything felt too sincere to be pretending.

You relived every moment and every detail that you wished you could go back to when everything was fine.

Aemond had been different with you those days, a side of him that you had never seen and had thought only existed because of his performance in the fake relationship you had both agreed to.

But even you, being there, without the pressure to pretend, you felt the barriers fall between the two of you, because it was all real.

“He fell in love with you, Y/N,” Helaena tells you sincerely, “You… you did too?”

You feel a lump form in your throat and you let the question float in the air for a moment. The answer is so clear in your mind that it hurts; and yet, saying it out loud feels like breaking a promise you had made to protect yourself.

“Yes, I did too,” you admit, sadness settling in your chest, "But…" you take a deep breath, watching her, ”What happened with Floris even though it was a mistake… and then, the fact that he didn't tell me the truth about Citadel, it really hurt me.”

Helaena nods softly, not judging you, simply listening to you. And when she speaks, her tone is so serene and understanding that it comforts you.

“My brother has this amazing ability to do things in the worst possible way,” she says with a small resigned smile, ”Floris was a mistake. He was drunk and well, he told me that before that both of you have had a disagreement, although that doesn't justify it, I know. I'm just saying, it really was a mistake.”

Your mind momentarily flashes back to that moment, when you tried to end the fake relationship after the family dinner thing.

“And as for the Citadel thing…” she pauses, searching for the right words, “He freaked out, Y/N. He didn't know how to tell you without ruining everything. And I know that doesn't justify it either, but…” she sighs, ”He was going to do whatever it took to hold up his part of the contract. He just didn't count on our grandfather suddenly getting difficult. Our family is already so fucked up as it is, that was the last thing he expected.”

Her words suddenly make you feel interested and curious about a specific topic you hadn't remembered until now. But Helaena continues to speak and you listen to her.

“Even though his method was disastrous, in his mind, he was protecting you,” she says, ”Again, I'm not justifying it. But I know he was desperate to get you that place at Citadel no matter what because he knew you deserved it. And…” she smiles at you with a gesture of resignation, "I think he loves you enough to do stupidly risky things. Even go against grandfather and act behind his back knowing how much trouble he could get into.”

You bite the inside of your cheek and feel a knot of emotions form in your chest. Everything she's telling you opens a door to feelings you'd tried to repress, to thoughts you'd rather bury.

You take a deep breath, remembering again those days at Dragonstone.

You relive every moment, when words were redundant and the silence between the two of you felt so full of meaning. He was always watching you in a way that seemed to say everything and nothing at the same time. He was slowly revealing that vulnerable part of himself that he seemed to have lost after Alys.

But as much as you want to think straight, your thoughts are a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. On the one hand, the pain of it all consumes you but on the other, there's the certainty of how you feel about him.

Even when you're hurting, you know you can't ignore it.

“I know he's still waiting, deep down, for maybe…” Helaena pauses, “Maybe there's a chance for both of you.”

The expression on her face is so sincere and tender that you find it impossible not to believe her, and the thought fills you with a mixture of relief and pain. Because, despite everything, you still love him, and that truth is impossible to deny.

“I don't know,” you confess, biting your lips and feeling your eyes water, ”I-I…I don't know what to do. I mean, we're already graduating. We'll go to the same college but I doubt we'll see each other, you know? And I just… n-no… I don't know….

“Hey, hey,” Helaena tells you instantly, ”It's okay. We don't have to talk about this anymore. I didn't want to overwhelm you or burden you, I just wanted to tell you my opinion and for you to talk to someone in case you needed to,” she tells you softly, comfortingly, ”Still, it's something between the two of you and we can talk about anything else.”

You thank her with a relieved look, her gesture of empathy appearing as she watches you with her soft, understanding expression. And then, she speaks with a more casual tone, changing the subject with a lightness that relieves you a bit.

“You have everything ready for graduation? Are you bringing a date?”

“Hum… yes, I already have everything ready,” you nod, ”And no, I'll go with my two friends. I think you met them, Alysanne and Cregan.”

“Oh yes! I know them,” she says with a smile, ”And I'm going with a friend too. I don't really like the idea of everything being so formal, so going with a friend will make it all more fun.”

Both are silent for a few moments, and although the conversation has taken on a lighter tone, you feel there's still a question trapped in your chest. And at the memory of that day, an impulse prompts you to speak before you can stop yourself.

“Helaena,” you call her softly, "I… can I ask you something?" you ask almost in a whisper, lowering your gaze a little, hesitating.

She watches you curiously and nods without hesitation.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Hum…” you stir in your seat, “That night, at dinner, Aegon said something… about your dad not caring about you. What did he mean by that?”

She immediately looks like she wasn't expecting that question at all, which immediately makes you regret it, but then she softens her whole gaze, not looking at all uncomfortable or upset.

“Oh, well… our dad…” she begins to speak, choosing her words precisely, “Well, he was always very neglectful with us. He always left all the work to mom to take care of us, even when she had to work too so she wasn't totally dependent on him,” she explains, ”It was chaos for a long time. Aegon and I lost years of education because of his lack of commitment.”

“Really?” you look at her attentively and surprised.

“He missed the date to register us for kindergarten in our proper time. He always forgot our birthdays or some important date. But, of course, that never happened to him with our older stepsister, Rhaenyra.”

You remember Aemond mentioning her, though not much.

“And you don't talk to her?”

“Yes, of course,” she says with a small smile, “She was never at blame. In fact, by comparison, she always took us into account and never forgot our existence,” she explains, ”And well, eventually mom divorced him. And the only good thing dad did in the end was to mention us and give us parts of his inheritance in his will.”

Helaena's sincerity and calmness in sharing this about her life surprises you and, at the same time, makes you understand the complicated family history behind them. Now it's no wonder why Aegon was so angry to bring up the subject of parents.

Nor do you ignore the connection you begin to feel towards them, obviously because of your mother and her abandonment.

“It must have been very difficult, for everyone,” you murmur, ”I'm sorry to hear that.”

She nods, though her expression doesn't reflect bitterness, but something akin to mature acceptance.

“Yes, but that made us strong,” she says with a slight smile, "Aegon was the one who resented his absence the most, as you could see," she tells you knowingly, ”You know, being the eldest and all. But we're more… happy now, now that he's gone,” she confesses.

You let out a long breath, watching her with compassion.

“Thank you for telling me. I didn't mean to intrude, really.”

“No, it's fine, it really doesn't affect me,” she assures you softly, ”After that Aegon scene at dinner, it's valid you know. So don't worry.”

You both smile softly at each other, expressions warm and sincere, falling silent. When Helaena stands up, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Well…” she says, letting out a slight sigh, adjusting her backpack, ”I should be going now. I also have projects to finish.”

“Sure,” you nod, ”Thanks for coming and talking to me.”

“Oh, there's nothing to thank you for. Anytime. I'll see you later, okay?”

“Okay.”

You both say goodbye and you watch her walk away in the direction of the main building, her silver hair shining in the sunlight, as you let out a long breath and put your headphones back in.

Prom.

You really don't understand what you're doing here. But it's all Alysanne's doing, like the makeup, hairstyle and dress.

You get out of Cregan's car with a beautiful lilac metallic dress on. Finding it wasn't hard at all, since it was like love at first sight, especially since it has a princess cut. And upon measuring it, Alysanne also decided that it was the one.

The hairstyle was also easy, after all, you didn't want anything too voluminous or too fancy. So a wavy style in your hair with a crown of silver flowers at the crown of your head was the perfect touch.

Alysanne on the other hand chose a beautiful wine colored dress that flatters her at every angle, deciding to gather her hair with two strands falling on either side of her face, making her look absolutely elegant and gorgeous.

And once all three of you are ready, Cregan dressed in an impeccable dark suit, offers you both his arms and you enter the grand ballroom of the luxurious hotel together.

The ballroom is illuminated by the typical disco balls hanging from the high ceiling, casting silver and white sparkles that create an almost magical atmosphere.

The decor is elegant and subtle, with centerpieces of fresh flowers and candles giving each table a touch of romantic charm.

You feel a mixture of nerves and excitement as you enter, as if it's all part of a dream. After all, it is your prom and tonight symbolizes a chapter you are about to close, your high school years.

The dance floor is in the center, surrounded by tables in a circle and already some of the guests have started to dance, getting lost in the rhythm of the soft music that fills the atmosphere thanks to the DJ.

Although not only disco balls light up the place, but also some colored lights to make the atmosphere more colorful.

If someone had told you in your freshman year everything that was going to happen in your final year, you would have laughed out loud and wouldn't have believed it at all, because your life was too boring.

But here you are, with still those events in mind, where at the end of the night, you will put them behind you.

You adjust your lilac dress, whose princess-cut skirt falls in soft layers to the floor. The fabric moves with you, as if it were an extension of your own footsteps, and the color shimmers delicately under the silver lights.

The three of you make your way to one of the tables to take a seat and you take a closer look around you as the decorations and you also see familiar faces of some of your classmates, some laughing in groups and others on the dance floor with their dates.

And Alysanne, excited and obsessed with everything, wants to have memories of the whole night and soon the three of you are taking a long selfie session with her phone.

Cregan complains about too many photos and the laughter of the three fills the air as Alysanne continues to make sure she captures the best shots, changing angles and poses.

Alysanne, with a huge smile, spins around on herself and then grabs your hands to dance with her, laughing every time you both take a step out of rhythm. You can feel her pure happiness, an excitement that doesn't take long to become contagious and where Cregan soon joins in.

The dance floor is filling up and the sparkles of the lights reflecting off everyone's costumes and dresses create an enchanting and magical atmosphere.

The DJ starts mixing more upbeat songs, and you see how everyone is having fun, laughing and dancing.

Immediately this catches Alysanne's attention and she drags the three of you onto the dance floor with infectious laughter. Before you know it, you're in the middle of the dance floor with them, surrounded by movement and music.

The music beats on the floor and vibrates in your chest, and, slowly, you begin to let loose, moving to the beat of the songs as the colored lights swirl above you all.

“I'm going to get a drink!” you let them both know over the music.

You have no idea exactly how much time passes that you find yourself dancing, enjoying the night, the echo of laughter and the warmth of the crowd.

The euphoria makes you forget and enjoy yourself as you feel your throat dry and your feet start to ache, with your body starting to beg for water and a little break.

“Okay!” Cregan nods, throwing you a smile, still dancing with Alysanne.

You smile knowingly, since after all, these two deserve to have their moment, and you walk away towards the table where there are different desserts and the drinks for all the graduates.

You take a bottle of water, and as you drink, the immediate relief makes you close your eyes for a moment, enjoying the coolness.

And only at that moment, standing alone and a little apart, you notice the glances of some people around you, mainly girls passing by you and whispering something between them, looking at you out of the corner of their eyes.

Great.

You thought you were past all this but even at prom it doesn't stop.

You take a deep breath and look out onto the dance floor, where you make out Alysanne and Cregan dancing close together, smiling and animated. You certainly don't want to interrupt them and you look around again, trying to distract yourself with anything you can find to rest your feet on.

You try not to make a big deal of it and look back at them for just a few moments with a serious look on your face and again try to focus on regaining your energy, telling yourself that this shouldn't affect you.

You remind yourself that you are here for you and your friends, and that is all that should matter to you.

When your gaze unconsciously focuses on Floris.

With her arm intertwined with a boy, whom you recognize from the lacrosse team, she looks absolutely elegant with a beautiful hairstyle and a gorgeous pink dress.

And as she joins the party, she seems totally focused on enjoying the evening, her expression relaxed and happy.

You look away from her, focused on something else, where your attention slips unintentionally to Alys, surrounded by her friends.

In the distance, suddenly her gaze meets yours and you quickly look away, not knowing why but… you really don't want to deal with or care about those people anymore.

She's wearing dark makeup and a sensual emerald green dress that completely clings to her body and highlights her curves. She looks completely beautiful, but knowing her attitude and behavior, it makes her lose her charm.

You watch Helaena for a few more seconds, her energy lighting up the dance floor, when suddenly, a tall, familiar figure catches your attention on the other side of the room in the crowd.

Instead, you focus on Helaena, who you find among all the people dancing, getting carried away by the atmosphere and in the company of the friend who told you.

Her silver hair is swaying to the music and she shines in the middle of everyone in that beautiful sky blue dress and gold accessories, looking absolutely gorgeous.

Aemond is standing a few feet away, talking to Aegon, both looking absolutely handsome for the evening. Then, the atmosphere around you seems to fade a bit and he's the only one who catches your eye in the middle of the crowd.

And that mixture of emotions about him rises in your chest again.

You take a closer look at who is around him and it is only Aegon. You don't see any girl hanging on his arm or anything, so apparently he has come unaccompanied, just like you.

He is dressed in a dark suit that highlights his slender figure and impeccable posture, just like Aegon. The silver light of the disc balls bring out his silver hair and his face so perfectly detailed, giving it a glow that is almost unreal to you.

Your gaze lingers on him longer than you had anticipated. From a distance, you can notice the lack of expressions on his face and the small twitch of his lips as he speaks to Aegon, looking around him without really showing any emotion.

That eye contact takes the air out of you. The memory of all the things you shared, the conversations, the looks, the touching and kissing… it all comes over you.

And at that very moment, as if sensing the weight of your attention, Aemond looks up and sees you beyond the crowd, apart and alone. The visual connection is instantaneous, almost electric, and suddenly you feel all the people and bustle around you fade away.

You can't deny the attraction and deep affection that, even now, beat intensely in your chest. And, for an instant, you wonder if he too feels the same mix of nostalgia and sadness in the midst of it all.

You notice how he looks you up and down, lingering on every detail of what you're wearing today, his eyes shining, filled with a kind of wary hope and longing, completely stealing your breath.

Then, his body language tells you he's getting ready to move. Coming at you, with her determined gaze.

Oh God.

A sense of panic invades every part of your body. And before he can do anything, you look away and quickly make your way to the dance floor, blending into the crowd, heading towards your friends.

The music booms in your ears and your thoughts are in complete chaos, hitting you one after the other.

Closing your eyes for a moment, you tell yourself that you just want to enjoy the night, to stop thinking about him and what was, even if it's only for a few hours.

So time passes, the energy of the dance becomes more relaxed, and though you manage to avoid crossing paths directly with Aemond, his presence seems to haunt your mind like a lingering ghost, one that doesn't dissipate with the music or the bright lights.

You look around from time to time, and out of the corner of your eye you notice that he also seems to avoid being too close to you, although you can't help thinking that maybe he is also looking for you in the crowd, as you are looking for him.

Until, finally, the atmosphere immediately changes.

The lights dim and the silver and warm tones transform the room into an intimate place. Couples begin to approach the dance floor, holding hands, to dance to the slow songs. And you decide it's the perfect time to take a break.

You smile at Cregan and Alysanne, giving them another moment again, feeling a twinge of tenderness and, at the same time, unexpected loneliness.

You take a seat at one of the nearby tables, watching as the dance floor fills with couples slowly swaying to the music.

Dresses and suits intertwine, and for a moment, you let yourself be enveloped by the warmth of the atmosphere, allowing yourself to feel invisible in the midst of all that harmony.

You watch Floris dancing with that boy, Alysanne with Cregan of course, and Helaena dancing with her friend, both with amused smiles and talking softly without taking the slow dance so seriously. You also see Aegon dancing very close with a girl.

And as your eyes wander around the dance floor, your gaze focuses again on his figure, which seems just as lonely as yours.

A few tables away, Aemond sits alone, surveying the dance floor with an expression you fail to fully decipher. His fingers drum on the rim of his glass, and, for a moment, he seems lost in his own thoughts. He looks calm, almost vulnerable.

You stare at him longer than you think and sigh, averting your gaze, and as the seconds pass, the urge to stand still and do nothing begins to fade.

You bite the inside of your cheek and begin to move your foot up and down rapidly, feeling your heart begin to beat too fast. You watch all the people dancing again, hesitating.

Then you let out a long breath and without knowing exactly why, you take a deep breath and stand up. With slow steps, a momentum and a calmness you try to maintain, you head towards him.

As you get closer, you notice how his gaze, which was lost on the dance floor, suddenly focuses on you, noticing before out of the corner of his eye your approaching figure. Surprise and bewilderment mixed with something else appears in his gaze and you stop in front of him, nervous but determined.

Then neither of you say anything for a few moments. The same nerves make you unable to speak and the two of you just stand there, watching each other.

You feel how some people around you suddenly have their attention focused on both of you, waiting for what you will do, but you don't even pay attention to them. You just focus completely on him.

Until you sigh.

"Do you dance?" you ask softly and nervous.

The words seem to break the spell, and Aemond blinks, clearly surprised and somehow confused.

You watch the expression on his face, as if he's processing every word you've just said, looking for some hint of doubt or change of heart in your expression.

"S-sure," he says still confused, not expecting this at all.

There's a mix of emotions in his eyes, confusion, surprise and nervousness, something you wouldn't have expected to see in him. And you, not wanting to drag this out any longer than necessary, extend your hand to him.

He watches your face attentively and then your hand, still surprised, to finally take it gently. His fingers intertwine with yours, sending an electricity throughout your body through his touch as he stands up.

You swallow hard, feeling your heart beating like crazy and nervousness invading your whole system. And without another word, you both head for the dance floor.

Then, everything around you fades away, the murmurs and laughter, even the music itself becomes a distant whisper, and only he remains, next to you.

He places a hand on your waist, his touch delicate, as if he doesn't want to do anything that could break this fragile instant. You take his other hand, intertwining it with yours and as you both begin to move to the rhythm of the music, you feel how a mixture of emotions floods each of your senses.

Aemond watches you, his eyes fixed on yours and with a nervous little smile on his lips, as if he can't believe this is really happening.

The music moves forward, slow, allowing you to glide in front of each other. As his steps synchronize with yours, the movements become smooth and natural.

And in a moment you realize that you both are completely absorbed in each other, as if nothing and no one could interrupt this bubble that surrounds you.

Finally, Aemond breaks the silence, his voice barely audible over the music and shy, watching you with a gleam in his eye.

"You look beautiful."

He says to you, his words so sincere and emotionally charged that you feel a surge of warmth wash over you.

You wish his words didn't make you melt. But they do. And everything about him, every gesture, his closeness, the firm, protective touch of his hand on your waist, the way he holds you, as if you were something precious and delicate, envelops and intoxicates you.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a soft smile appear on your lips, "You too... you look very handsome."

He smiles, marking the dimples on either side of his cheeks.

"I wasn't expecting you to come over," he admits, his eyes revealing something between vulnerability and surprise.

The tone of his voice, so soft and honest, makes you feel a warmth you haven't experienced in a long time.

"I didn't know I would," you reply with a barely perceptible smile, "But I thought, maybe... I don't want to spend the night running away," you confess.

He nods, not looking away.

"I didn't want it to be like that either."

His hand on your waist pulls you slightly closer to him with a firm movement and the slight brush makes you aware of the closeness between the two of you.

You feel your thoughts cloud over and you let yourself become more enveloped by him, unable to help it.

His chin brushes your forehead and you feel that at any moment your heart will jump out of your chest. It's an insistent, powerful beat that seems to resonate with every breath you take at his side.

Then, Aemond lowers his voice, his tone becoming softer, almost melancholy, as if his words are a secret shared only between the two of you.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know? When I gave you the folder.

"I was going to ask you if you wanted to be my date that day, you know, when I gave you the folder," he confesses, with a certain melancholy tone, "But I knew it wouldn't be fair to ask you that and I really didn't want to hurt you anymore."

The sincerity in his tone pierces you, and you feel your own barriers begin to crumble. You listen to him with your heart pounding, absorbing every word.

Aemond sighs and his fingers tighten slightly at your waist.

"And a moment ago, when I saw you so perfect and so beautiful in this dress... I realized how much I wished I had walked through those doors with you on my arm," he says with a longing and sadness.

The music continues to envelop you and you feel his confession reverberate through you, intensifying every sensation, every emotion.

The strength of his words, of the connection that has been created between the two of you in the middle of this song, makes the air seem thick and charged with meanings that don't need to be explained.

Then you raise your gaze to him and you both stare at each other in silence, where your words seem to get caught in your throat.

His eyes roam over your face, as if he wants to remember every detail, as if he wants to take this moment with him. There is a sadness and a softness in his gaze that you haven't seen before, and it makes something in your chest tighten.

And again his voice breaks through the soft silence that envelops you.

"I'm sorry... for everything," he says barely a whisper, laden with a sincerity that resonates deeply.

His fingers trace slow circles on your back, small gestures that seem to try to comfort you and to comfort him too. The contact between the two of you is firm and warm, and yet, you feel as if Aemond fears that at any moment this could disappear.

For a moment, the music seems to fade, leaving only your heartbeat and the echo of his voice in the air.

You feel the urge to speak, to say something that would ease the vulnerability on his face, but you find it difficult to organize your thoughts.

Instead, you opt for a simple but meaningful gesture. You propel yourself a little towards him and leave a soft kiss on his cheek, then rest your head on his chest and gently inhale his expensive cologne, being comforting enough for you.

"It's okay," you murmur.

He lets out a sigh of relief, mixed with longing and makes his grip on your waist tighter, not wanting to let go. Then, he leaves a soft kiss on the crown of your head, resting his head on yours as you both continue to sway gently to the music.

"Thank you for giving me this dance," he murmurs.

You place a soft, small smile on your lips, then raise your gaze to his, watching him with nothing but fondness.

He continues to watch you with that softness and one of his hands goes up to your cheek. In a delicate, almost fearful touch, his thumb runs over your skin in a gesture that is both protective and vulnerable.

Then he rests his forehead against yours and you both close your eyes, as you lean into him.

You both fall silent, letting the slow rhythm of the music carry you away, allowing the moment to linger, in a fragile and honest peace.

You feel that you could stay like this, in this bubble of time and silence, without the need for words, because, in this instant, you both understand what has been said and what doesn't need to be said.

The song changes to another slow one and you both lose yourselves in the moment, enjoying it, not wanting it to end.

Time seems to stand still as you dance together, moving slowly and leisurely, as if nothing and no one else exists. The sounds of the party fade around you, leaving only the beating of your hearts and the faint brush of your breaths.

Your eyes close as you let go, feeling his hand on your back and the warmth his body gives off, so close and so full of meaning.

You both breathe in sync, your foreheads resting against each other, your eyes closed as the moment stretches out and becomes more than just a dance.

This instant is a truce, a refuge where everything else, the doubts, the pain, the past, is suspended and what follows is moving forward.

"You've got everything ready to go to college?"

His voice breaks the silence softly, barely a murmur, as if afraid to disturb the peace around you both.

"Yeah," you murmur, nodding.

"What are you traveling there on?"

"Well, I was checking with my dad about bus and plane ticket prices. But I still haven't made up my mind," you admit, remembering discussions about which was the safest and cheapest option.

Aemond nods, thoughtfully. Then, after a brief pause, he speaks with calm assurance.

"I can take you."

You look at him instantly surprised, definitely not expecting that.

"What?"

"I can take you," he repeats, sure of his words, "Well, sure, if you want," he hastens to clarify, "After all, we're going to the same place and I'll make the trip in my car," he explains, "There's plenty of room for your bags along with mine and so you won't have to spend on a ticket. Besides, it would be safer and I think, I don't know, you'd be more comfortable."

You remain silent, trying to assimilate what he has just said. There is something in his words, in the slow and sincere tone, that strikes a deep chord in you.

The idea of making the trip together, of sharing that important moment of departure, of having one last time alone before facing a new life, awakens a mix of emotions that are difficult to describe.

He lowers his gaze for a moment, nervous, clarifying in a low voice.

"It's just a suggestion... something I thought might make things easier for you. You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

Your heart pounds, and somehow, the simplicity of his offer, the naturalness with which he cares for you, causes a warm surge of gratitude and affection to wash over you.

"Can you really do that for me?" you ask quietly, with a little smile you can't help.

"Sure," he says absurdly softly, as if it weren't obvious, "But only if you want me to. I don't want to force you. It's just an option."

You look up at him, holding his gaze for a second that seems like forever, and nod slowly, allowing the feeling of relief and closeness to wash over you.

"I'd love to," you whisper, your voice barely a murmur, "Thank you."

The shadow of a smile tugs at his lips, and you can see the relief in his expression.

"No need to thanks."

Without another word, Aemond pulls you a little closer to him and again the two of you bring your foreheads together, letting the moment lengthen as the music changes to another slow rhythm.

You both remain like that, moving in silence and enjoying the moment, spending the last moment of your high school lives together, to start college together.

"Are you ready?"

Aemond watches you from the driver's seat, his hands resting calmly on the steering wheel with a small smile on his face.

The car is already loaded with suitcases for both of you and you nod, taking a deep breath to calm the emotions fluttering in your chest.

The thought of heading off together towards this new stage causes a mixture of nerves and excitement to wash over you, though a part of you also feels comforted by Aemond's presence at your side.

"Yes," you reply, adjusting your belt.

You watch him and he gives you one last knowing look before putting the car in move.

Saying goodbye to your dad was difficult, but it was something you were both already preparing for and you knew that moment would come.

Besides, he met Aemond, as your friend who will do you the favor of driving you to college and nothing more. And your dad felt safer with that instead of taking the plane or bus alone.

Especially after Aemond promised him countless times that he would take care of you at all times.

The road is serene at first, and Aemond turns on the radio, letting a soft melody fill the comfortable silence between them.

The roads stretch out in front of you, long and exciting, as the landscape changes shape and the kilometers pass, leaving behind the city where you experienced so much.

From time to time, you exchange glances, small comments about the places you see and the expectations each has for the university.

Aemond seems especially careful, attentive to every sign on the road and every change in your expression, as if he wants to make sure you are comfortable and at ease.

And he especially notices a change in your expression.

"Is something bothering you?" he asks you, his voice low but close, filling the space in a comforting way.

You watch him and after some hesitation, you shrug.

"I guess it makes me a little nervous not knowing what to expect," you admit, "This whole new stage... the idea of being alone in a new place."

Aemond nods, understanding what you mean, his eyes fixed on the road.

"I guess it's normal," he tells you softly, "It's almost obligatory to feel this way, but, for what it's worth... you won't be completely alone."

His gaze meets yours for a second before he turns back to the road.

"I'm going to be around if at any time you need anything or anything happens, anything at all."

You feel a warmth settle in your chest, and a part of your nerves seem to fade. The idea of him being there, close by, offering you that closeness, gives you a strange sense of relief.

"Thank you, Aemond," you murmur with a small smile.

He smiles, marking a dimple in his cheek, and turns his eyes to the front.

The ride continues, where the atmosphere in the car becomes more and more comfortable, chatting about small details, expectations, and the occasional joke that makes you both laugh comfortably.

And finally, as the two enter the town of Oldtown and the university looms in the distance, Aemond slows down, looking at the campus that would soon become his home.

"There it is," he says, a slight excitement in his voice.

The same excitement rubs off on you and excitedly, you take his hand, intertwining it with yours, excited and hopeful.

Hopeful that all that is to come for you in this place are good and promising things. As well as hopeful for Aemond and for you.

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@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff @bluerskiees @urmomsgirlfriend1 @toodlesxcuddles @rosie-posie08 @iloveallmyboys @bellaisasleep @deliaseastar @cupcakesminicakescupcakes @dixie-elocin @lilostif16 @wickedfrsgrl @a-beaverhausen @saturnssrings @ladythornofrivia @vhwyrm @strangersunghoon @queen-of-elves

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #modern aemond #modern hotd #au modern #aemond one eye

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buuniebaby · 6 months ago

Text

HOME TO ME - HAMZAH X LATINA!READER 🎀

hiii! first of all i wanna make a quick note - very sorry for the inconsistency in posting for a few days. ive been struggling with writers block and summer bedrotting is getting to me a lil. 😓😓

there were A LOT of drafts of this fic that i picked up and then didn’t like. a big part of that is that i really wanted to make a fic that hits sort of close to home, and that’s what this one is to me! i was born in nicaragua and moved to the us at a young age, so this fic is based off of my experiences relating to that, even down to little things like my parents and their broken english lol. i still tried to make it pretty ambiguous to other latin-american countries, so I hope it isn’t too specific. it took me a long time to write, but im really happy with the way it came out after a day or two of really thinking about it.

this fic includes: lots of fluff, then it gets nasty. mirror sex, nothing too rough 🤗

wc: 3.4k

Your childhood summers haven’t changed since the last time you stepped foot here, even though it feels like it’s been lifetimes. you’re home, and you’ve brought your boyfriend along with you this time.

the sun shines down on you, a little too hot for your liking. it’s a lot hotter down here than the canadian weather you’re used to. it’s different, but comforting at the same time. what really makes the biggest change is the sight of your boyfriend, rays of sunlight beaming down on him, framing his curls perfectly. it makes you feel at home just as much as being here does.

the air is warm and sticky, thick with remnants of a heavy rain. sweat clings to areas of exposed skin, dampening his shirt collar and hair with a sweat.

you don’t think you’ve loved the latin-american summer as much as you have seeing hamzah bask under it.

showing your boyfriend around your home country feels like the world around you is unreal. it’s like two universes colliding - ones that probably shouldn’t coexist.

one of the things that really makes you feel like you’re out of your own body is walking down the same road that baby-you walked down to get to school. if you could’ve told your middle school self that you bagged a man this bad she would’ve forgiven you for not marrying her celebrity crush.

and the food is what really gets you - the flavor of nostalgia mixing with the taste of your boyfriend’s lips is an otherworldly sensation. although you can’t get him too full yet; that’s a job for your family.

speaking of your family - hamzah is terrified.

he tries looking extra nice at first. he wants to make a good impression, just like you’ve told him to - it’s why he’s surprised you’re bursting out in laughter seeing him walk out in full black tie attire.

“you don’t have to dress like you’re going to a wedding, hamzah-“ you giggle when he speaks over you, trying to defend himself.

“you told me to look nice, and we’re going to a dinner, y’know-“ he rambles, but catches himself. “and you’re wearing a dress!”

you roll your eyes, giving him a dead stare. “this a a sundress, hamzah. it’s not like.. fancy.” he looks at you blankly back. it’s like there’s not a single thought behind his eyes.

after your criticism and a lot of banter, you’ve got him dressed up more.. how you would have envisioned. he’s got those glasses on - the ones he usually edits with. and god, he looks good. he’s paired those with a polo shirt and a nice pair of jeans; he looks nice, presentable, but not over the top.

you’re knocking on the door while he almost shyly stands behind you before you know it. it takes a good few seconds for you to receive any sort of response, but you’re used to it. once someone eventually comes to the door, you’re greeted with the sound of children squealing in the background and music playing off a speaker - the loud environment you’re most used to.

you think you can see hamzah sweating.

your mom greets you with two little cheek kisses, as always, then smothers you into a hug. “muy linda,” she presses another kiss to your forehead, “mi alma.” she eventually finishes her ramblings about how beautiful you are and how much she’s missed you, then pauses as she pulls back. hamzah flinches.

she’s eyeing him down, eyebrows furrowed with a hand on her hip. It’s the death glare - one you know very well. if he wasn’t sweating before he definitely is now, and you’re even close to breaking into one.

hamzah doesn’t even have time to panic before her angry demeanor snaps into laughter. she’s giggling at the way his smile had dropped, grabbing him by the shoulders and pulling him into that same little cheek kiss. he stumbles when she does it, not knowing what to do; an anxious fluster of sorts.

she pulls away looking at you, and her giggles turn into straight-up laughter.

“he look at me so scared.. he like, ‘i already messed up!’” she says, still laughing, now imitating hamzah’s flustered appearance. her English is slightly broken, as you expected, but it’s the way she tries for you is what really counts. she’s putting in the effort. you laugh with her, but not really at what she’s saying - it’s the way she’s already made herself comfortable around your boyfriend.

“y tu eres el novio, verdad?” your father says, pointing at hamzah, managing to creep up behind your mother without you even noticing. “you going to marry her?”

you awkwardly laugh at your father and how weird he has to make things, but that’s just how your family is. hamzah doesn’t mind it, he understands - nonchalantly smiling, looking down at you as he replies with a quick “hope so.”

you giggle back, but your smile is genuine - you know he’s serious about what he just said. “maybe one day.” you continue for him.

you two enter your house and he’s already being crowded by relatives of yours. he’s introducing himself to one of your tías when he feels something tugging on the leg of his pants, startling him. he looks down only to see your baby cousin staring up at him, big beady eyes and an open mouth, almost like he’s some sort of god.

around an hour later, hamzah is about a beer and two plates of food in to the family function. he’s sitting on the floor, a doll in his hand, playing with that same prima from before. you’re not even sure if they’re communicating, if that baby can even speak any language yet, but whatever they’re doing hamzah.. seems to be enjoying himself.

it’s funny, but it’s sweet at the same time, watching your boyfriend like this. it makes you think of your future together. marrying him, taking him into your family - even watching him play with your little prima makes you fall ill with baby fever. he would be an amazing girl dad.

by the end of the night, hamzah is starting to get a little bit plastered, and your mom is already calling him mijo. you’re trying to teach him how to dance to your country’s music (which he surprisingly happens to not be bad at) while also trying to sneak a few drinks yourself. you’re running back to the bathroom when your mom catches you, pulling you aside for a second.

you tilt your head at her, confused. you’re hoping this isn’t what you’ve been nervous about the whole night - you really, really don’t want a “we don’t like this boy” talk.

instead, she smiles, which wipes away most of your worry, but you’re still staring at her reluctantly.

“te vas a casar con este chico.” she mutters, smiling. she might be a little drunk herself from the way she’s talking, but you know there’s a truth to her words. you smile back a small grin, but it means more to you than what appears - your man is locked in. even your mom agrees, he’s the one.

thank the lord.

the party dies down after a while, baby cousin and older relatives drifting off to their bedrooms one by one. you somehow find yourself sitting on your parent’s couch, cuddled up in a blanket next to hamzah. you’re both a little tipsy, what you would say is fine enough to drive, but you already know your mother will argue against you.

“y’wanna get out of here too?” hamzah whispers, voice deep and soft in your ear.

“mhmm.” you say, comfortable in his arms. “wanna stay here for a second though.”

hamzah doesn’t complain, gently rubbing your shoulder underneath the blanket with his forefinger and thumb. it’s domestic, a gentle touch, and it makes you feel warm inside.

“was cute seeing you play with my prima.” you mumble, smiling to yourself at the memory. he laughs when he picks up on what you’re talking about.

“I don’t really think I understood what was going on like, that whole time.” he begins to ramble. “I think her barbies were like, beefing and shit.” he says, smiling down at you when he sees the way you light up with laughter.

“if we ever like, get married, i wanna have a girl.” you say. he’s quick to rebut you.

“that’s not how it works.” he argues back, stupidly.

“well then, like, we just have more.” you say, the mix of alcohol and sleepiness not giving you the energy to seriously discuss this with him. “you’d make a good girl dad, i think.”

he smiles at that comment. he’s seen it around on tiktok and other social media. he thinks it’s cute, and suddenly the idea of marriage and knocking you up doesn’t seem so scary to him. that gentle touch on your shoulders is moving down to your hips before you know it. you’re both aware that you can’t do anything on your family couch, but you know the intention behind his grip.

“i think you’d be a good boy mom.” he says back. “i could see you like, teaching him how to cook and stuff. i think if you had a baby boy he would be like, really respectful, not like brain-rotted.” you laugh at the stupidity of his comments.

“i think if you raised a boy, he would end up going down like, the alt right pipeline, and start watching andrew tate clips on youtube shorts.”

you both laugh at that - it’s obvious that you’re joking now, but you still enjoy the deprecating banter.

“if my kid doesn’t reach alpha male status, im sending his ass to the frontlines.”

you continue your painfully stupid chatter, not paying attention to how dark it’s getting.

your mother eventually creeps up to you, and you take it as a sign that you should probably start making your way out.

after saying your final goodbyes to your family members who are still standing awake, you’re making your way out the door. after a few cheek kisses and repeatedly denying the “no cab? you sure?” from your mom, you two are on the way back to your hotel.

hamzah’s hand is on your thigh as he drives. it’s another domestic touch that drives you crazy. the little things are really getting to you tonight.

“you’re good with kids.” you mumble, letting your thoughts out with no warning.

“yeah?” is all hamzah says, keeping his eyes on the road and his hand on your thigh.

“yeah.” you repeat back in a breathier tone.

“im not getting you pregnant right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” he mutters, still focused on the road. “I’ll cum inside you, but I can’t handle a baby yet-”

“hamzah!” you nearly yell. “i don’t mean- i mean yeah, that’s a part of it, but like- i guess you’re just like-“ you stutter, trying to gather your flustered self. “it’s like, a domestic thing I guess. makes me wanna settle down with you one day.”

despite how nonchalant he’s acting, he gets exactly what you’re saying.

“yeah. y’know, that little sundress you’re wearing?” hamzah starts, eyes tearing off the road for a second. “that’s like, wife shit.”

you giggle at the way he says it, but you’re flattered at the intention.

“kinda surprised you liked it that much. feel like guys think sundresses are just like, skin-tight skims dresses.”

“you look fucking hot in it, are you serious? like shit, maybe i will just get you pregnant if you’re wearing that.” hamzah pauses for a moment, looking over at you while your eyes widen. “i’m joking. by the way.” you let out a soft “aww,” making a soft smile creep onto his face.

“you don’t have to tonight. i’m joking.” you smile up at him. “but i do miss the feeling of you inside me.” you can tell that you’re at least getting to him a little bit; he’s starting to get riled up.

“duh,” he says, jokingly, but his tone changes with his next words. “ill cum all over that fuckin’ dress if you really want me to.”

there’s the hamzah you were looking for.

he’s already pulling the car you two rented into the parking lot of your hotel, and you can’t even speak before the silence is interrupted with his own thoughts.

“gonna be all over you the second we get to our fucking room.” he mutters, opening his car door. as both of you get out, you can see the hard-on already somewhat formed through his pants.

you love getting him worked up like this.

checking into the room is almost painful. he stands behind you as you speak in spanish to the hotel staff, cock pressed up right against your ass. you’re stuttering as she asks you for your reservation, knowing you’re about to get fucking destroyed.

he wasn’t lying about being all over you. the minute that keycard clicks and the door is open, you’re being shoved onto the bed, hamzah crawling on top of you.

it’s a pretty hotel room - you’re taking it all in as hamzah is on top of you. huge bathroom, silky sheets, relatively good size, yet there’s one thing that sticks out to you. there’s a long mirror, placed at the side of the bed.

it’s the perfect place to get fucked in front of.

you don’t even think hamzah has taken a glance at the architecture around him from the way he’s locked in on your body. you feel his hands gravitate against different areas of your body, resting on your hips, grabbing the soft flesh through your dress. he places a soft, warm kiss to your lips, but continues with a harsher, more sloppy one. it only continues on your neck, biting and kissing down to your collarbone.

he keeps his lips in a certain place for a second, and you already know you’re going to be covering up dark spots on your neck tomorrow.

“pretty,” is all he mumbles when he pulls off, moving down to add yet another bite to your neck.

he pulls the top of your sundress down a little bit, straps going over your shoulders. it’s just enough to free your bra, which he pulls off even quicker.

his mouth is all over your tits before you know it - as expected. he’s sucking at them, licking at the nipple while the other hand fondles the soft flesh around. you can feel him getting harder against your thigh, which you didn’t even think was possible at this point.

you can tell he’s getting frustrated with how fucking tight his pants are getting, cock getting harder by the second. he quickly unbuttons his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles - he’s a little too horny to take the effort to fully pull them down. when he pulls off his boxers he lets out a sigh, letting his cock free.

you readjust to do the same, pulling at the straps of your dress, but hamzah stops you, a large hand covering yours.

“want you to keep it on.”

yes sir.

you pull the straps back up to where they should regularly be, wearing your sundress like normal, just braless. hamzah takes a minute to catch his breath, but it’s hard when you’re under him looking like that. he takes in his surroundings a little bit more as he calms down, finally noticing the mirror to his side. you can tell by the look on his face that he’s got the same idea as you.

his focus lands back on you when he turns back to look you in the eyes, gently stroking himself. his hips roll softly into his hand, pumping himself loosely in his fist. he takes his other hand and pulls your dress up just enough to see your underwear.

he’s too lazy to get them off your body, so he just pushes them to the side, a finger sliding between the soft lips to your entrance. it emits a gasp from you, even though you were expecting it.

“you look so fucking good from here.” he says, breathy. your brows furrow for a second, confused as to what he means by ‘from here,’ but then you realize where his eyes are pointed -

- the mirror.

you turn your head to look at it too, and god, he isn’t wrong. the way his hands strain, groping at your thighs while he grazes against your cunt. it’s hotter than you had expected, the idea of seeing yourself get destroyed from multiple angles.

he presses a finger into you, and you flinch at the feeling. it’s not long before he’s sliding another one in with it, pulling at your hips with his strong arms to bring you down to his knuckles. you’re looking at yourself in the mirror as he does it, watching as he pushes you around like a toy.

he pulls his fingers out after curling them a few times inside of you, and you protest by trying to buck up your hips up again. he pushes on your womb with big hands, forcing you down.

“s’okay baby.” he affirms you in a soft voice. “wanna fuck you now.”

he grabs you by the waist, strong enough to pick you up with just his bare hands and flip you over. he presses your bodies close together once you’re on your hands and knees, your back against his chest. he nestles his head right above your neck, the perfect spot to whisper into your ear.

“look in the mirror,” he starts, and you immediately do what he says. “watch how fucking good you look while I touch you.”

your back arches as an instinct at his words, feeling his palms glide against your hips. your vision feels hazy, but you’re still paying attention to the way he clings onto soft skin.

you let out a whine, shutting your eyes and facing down when he touches your inner thighs, but it doesn’t last long. before you can finish his hand rushes to your jaw, grabbing your face, pointing your head back to the mirror.

“told you to look at yourself, baby.”

it’s hot, the way he’s in control of you, even if it doesn’t take much to get you to submit. he kisses at your shoulder blade softly, watching your desperate expression fade into excitement. he strokes himself one last time before the tip meets your pussy.

your breath hitches when you feel him slide into you, strokes slow. it fits in you nicely, the back of your thighs pressing against his when he’s all the way in. a finger and thumb caress the skin between your ass and hips while he bottoms out.

“c’mon baby,” he says, slowly starting to drag his hips in and out of you. “move those hips.”

you can’t argue with him, doing what he says on command. you roll your hips back the same way you roll your eyes, creating a rhythm with his thrusts. it earns a moan from him.

he grips your hips while his speed up, moving in and out of you with an unforgiving pace. it’s enough to send you reeling, squealing as you struggle to keep your focus on the mirror. you can barely keep your composure, the urge to shove your head in your pillow and just let him use you stronger than ever.

“wasn’t- fuck- lying when I told you I wanna come all over that dress.” he says, struggling to get his words out. it only makes you clench around him, his words driving you to your own finish.

you’re screaming a “hamzah! can’t fucking take it-“ while he’s plowing into you, building up a well-awaited orgasm. he waits until he feels that clench-and-pulse sensation around his cock, signaling that you’ve came before he pulls out.

he doesn’t even need to touch himself to cum after seeing you like this - he lets himself go, ropes of his semen covering the floral patterns of your dress.

he basks in the sight of you for a moment, catching his breath after his orgasm. it’s a lot for him, fucking you after being pent up the whole day. overstimulating, almost. you’re just that attractive to him, poor boy can’t control himself.

he lays on top of your chest, grounding himself. the feeling of being against you bare skin is comforting to him, a sense of home that you two both find in each other. you run your hands through the curls of his hair.

that’s what he is to you - home. just like how it feels to be here.

#hamzah smut #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #hamzahsmut #latina reader

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