#it's almost like the room but it was made to be a certain success as opposed to an experimental indie film

[britneyshakespeare]

A Mr. Darcy-type romantic lead is hard to write well, and Pride and Prejudice doesn't just remain popular because it's an unlikely love story, but because Jane Austen with her characterizations and the sequence of events still managed to make it convincing. But when you find a piece of media where the man our heroine is supposed to pine for is just rude, cold, and standoffish to her, without the hinted complexity... it's like, oh, wow. A mean little man you've got there. I'm so impressed. If only men were like this in real life, right? Just say "insolent nerd," I swoon.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi bunny I was wondering if I could get a Boston cream pie with coffee and mocha coffee with dark!lando maybe? Thank youuu

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i love receiving all kinds of requests! thank you to everyone who had sent something! i hope you enjoy this, especially the one who submitted it! thank you all and enjoy! <3

boston cream pie ("yeah, i'll use protection.") + coffee (rivals au) + mocha coffee (breeding kink) served by lando norris (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, dark-ish fic, dark!lando, breeding kink, rivals au, mercedes driver!reader, lying, no protection, mentions of pregnancy

you were a level headed driver, you came down that track like lightning and even when things went south, you kept your cool. you never got snippy on the radio and even when you loss the race, you dealt with it with total grace.

you were a good sport, congratulatory towards whoever was on the podium. as a result you were a darling on the track, especially to the media. the first woman in decades to race with the big leagues. you were sweet as honey to everyone, or so it seemed.

everyone except when you went toe-to-toe with lando off the track. your hands dug into the front of his t-shirt as you said to him, "how dare you, norris."

"aw, what's wrong, princess? did you break a nail?" lando didn't make it any better, leering at you as you held onto him.

this was a common back and forth. the snapping of jaws between you two. lando looked at you with a healthy smirk while you got right into his face. oscar piastri once described it as watching you two fuck without the 'fun' part. he also suggested that you two found other ways to take all the stress out.

"no. you played dirty today, norris. you know, mclaren's strategy isn't playing mad max fury road all over the track!" your hands held deeper into the shirt. you swore you could feel his quickening heartbeat.

lando made a face at you and said, "then if you can't handle the heat... get off the track... i bet you'd do lovely in craft services... or maybe you could be my assistant." he licked his top lip, "my logo all over your pretty tits, but you know i like my cum on them better."

your cheeks went hot as you pulled him closer to you, your foreheads almost touching as you glared at him. "you are a sick fuck, lando."

lando got his arms around you behind and gave your ass cheek a squeeze, "and yet... you can't get enough of me."

you both heard a loud groan from behind you, you both looked over and saw oscar standing there with his hands in his pockets. he took a hand out and scratched the back of his head. this wasn't the first he had caught you, he was used to it at this point.

"uh.. hey. the press are going to be in here soon. so unless you want to make national news. i suggest you." he pointed to you, "get back to your team and we." he pointed to lando, "have to do an interview."

you pulled away and said to oscar, "thank you, mate." before you 'accidentally' stepped on lando's foot as you headed out of the room. that night you'd get a text message with a location and time. and the message 'wear something orange', which you never complied with. orange made you feel less like a sex symbol and more like the fruit.

but a short black dress would work just fine for the evening.

you were a normal sighting at the hotels that mclaren were staying at. while you tried to cover up that it was all purely platonic, they knew. your team knew, lando's team knew. teams that weren't involved knew. you were certain even teams not in formula one knew. but, yet you went to the hotel room and knocked three times in quick succession.

lando opened the door and got a good look at you. he said, "i asked for orange."

you got past him, "i prefer mercedes black. feel like it highlights me better." you said as you got inside the hotel room, "bed? couch? don't tell me you want to do it on the floor."

he chuckled and closed the door before he came to you. he was dressed casually. sweatpants and a black t-shirt that highlighted his toned frame. he followed you as you sat on the edge of the bed to get your heels off.

he sat beside you, up against you with his large hand on your soft thigh. he kissed at your neck before you even had the chance to get undressed. he sighed against your scent.

"beautiful as always."

you took him by the jaw and looked him in the eyes. it was a dangerous glance. even without the make-up wore off the track, you looked beyond beautiful. lando once said that they should make you the trophy, come out in something skimpy. that earned a death glare from you before lando made it up to you with kisses along your thighs.

"is it a crime now to state the obvious? i thought you were all about telling the truth." he said as you held him. his words were silenced when you pulled him in for a tender kiss. he made a soft noise against your lips as you invaded his space. it felt good, it felt right.

like two magnets come together. opposites that pulled together. his hands were soon on your shoulders before you pushed him back into the bed. when he pulled away, he said, "let me on top. i want to see that face." then started to undress himself with you beside him on the bed.

"yeah, no. you're just going to make fun of me. remember you said once when i orgasm i look like i ate a lemon. it's doggy for me tonight."

he chuckled, "whatever the princess wants." he beamed at you.

you looked at him. a knowing look you've given a million times. with you soon naked, your breasts capturing his attention fully that he barely noticed the expression on your face. you coughed into your fist and looked at him.

he looked back at you before he said "yeah, i'll use protection." you two may had been playing a risky game over the last few weeks. using the pull-out method was dumb, but it wasn't like you two carried condoms around.

in all fairness lando could've been a gentleman and bought some. but, he lied to you about having them. his mind was somewhere else. lando norris wanted you pregnant. keep you off the track, but still in his life. be easier to get a hold on you when your hips got a little softer and soon you were taking care of a norris baby.

he was lucky that tonight you wanted doggy style as you wiggled your ass to him enticingly which made his heart rate skip. you were a real siren's call, he could imagine you on the rocky shores of england singing your siren's song. but usually in those tales, the siren doesn't get pregnant so... maybe it was a little different.

"got the condom, norris?" you asked as you pressed your chest against the soft bed. you held over the pillow under your head and pressed your cheek against it.

"yes." he said, "i got it." his cock was bare and the tip was leaking. he stroked it a few times and admired your naked body in front of him. he shifted a little bit on the bed before he nudged his cock up against your slick entrance. it was a familiar feeling, he had become hooked on you like an itch he couldn't scratch unless he was balls deep inside of you. and he thankfully was able to scratch that itch as he sank into you.

your back arched and your short nails dug into the pillow under your head as your back was curved more as he invaded your space further. you didn't even notice that he wasn't wearing a condom. you moaned as he started to thrust up against you. it felt really good, you hated to admit it. but sex with lando was always good and it made your brain sometimes go blank in the rush of pleasure as he moved against you.

he was good in the bedroom, if only he was as good on the track. then maybe mclaren would have their winner. but that snarky comment died on your tongue as you felt his cock prod some of your softest areas.

lando was on cloud nine, he always was when he got to fuck you. it was like a jolt to the system that made his nerves feel alive. but not in the way that anxiety did. he wanted to jump your bones and keep his thick cock inside of your sweet pussy. he wanted to cream in it so badly, he wanted to make a big mess of it.

make sure that no other man could have you.

maybe his breeding kink was running strong after today's race. he could feel it all the way in his balls as he rutted against you. you felt like a dream as he moved. he wanted you pregnant, you'd make the most perfect mother to his children. he came from a big family so he was hoping for at least four kids with you. he'd make sure that he'd get a nice place for all of you to live in. you'd be a nice little family.

his little rival becoming his wife. the thought excited him as he rutted against you. his heart beated wildly in his chest, his lips found the back of your neck, which caused your to moan and tense up around him. that felt good, it only encouraged him to keep doing it. feeling your slick hole clench around him.

"you feel amazing. so good around me." he pushed into your harder, "fuckin' hell. he swallowed, he felt himself starting to lose a bit of control as he really worked your body. it felt so good, especially without a condom. the rubber stopped him from feeling all of his future wife. that was your new name while he was in a state of heighten euphoria.

you came quickly with your back arched. your groaned into the covers and clawed down the soft comforter. you felt everything kind of go blank for a moment. the only thing that left your mouth was his name. first name and last name. and how you said it made him move even further. and when pleasure struck him, he finished inside the back of your soaked cunt.

he then trailed his blunt nails down your back, hoping to leave deep red lines come morning. a little reminder of him as if his cum stuck to your cunt wasn't enough. but your over stimulated body made you jerk a little bit and moan a little louder into the bed. you looked good face down ass up.

lando slapped your ass before he pulled out and watched your hips drop to the bed. you were out for now, but lando was certain that with a few strokes of his fingers and his mouth on your breasts, he could at least get another round out of you. even as you laid panting on the bed.

after all, he had a baby to make with his little rival.

-

you held that trophy over your head. you could've yelled in excitement. but instead you grinned. you were almost moved to tears, but you held them back. even in the face of victory, you had to show strength. a history maker as the cameras flashed.

you were beyond lucky. the blood tests from the recent evaluation hadn't come back yet before the last race of the season. you knew what formula one didn't know. you were pregnant.

nothing noticeable yet. everything ailment was pinned of the anxiety of performing well for the final race of the season. you held the world champion high over your head. in the coming weeks the media storm around your pregnancy will come to light.

you felt on top of the world as your national anthem played, hand over your heart as you felt the soar in your pulse. the almost imaginary weight in your middle was replaced with the heft of the world champion title over your head as you held the trophy once more for photos. you knew that your career would be halted if not ended in the next few days.

you knew lando was watching, not because he had to. but, because he wanted to. your little rivalry had halted when you disclosed to him in quiet whispers that you were pregnant. and lando whispered promises of a wedding during the off season. something quiet, with family.

for now on the shiny stage, you were a champion. in a way you won the battle. but with the norris baby in your womb, lando won the war. <3

[xshadowdelta]

Former Manager

Part One: Back in town.

Jo Yuri x Male Reader (2.9K Length)

The abrupt movements and the deceleration sensation alerted you, waking you up. Automatically you took a quick look out through the window of your seat, the clouds gave way to a landscape that brought back many memories, it wasn’t your first time landing at the Incheon Airport.

You got off the plane, taking your suitcase ready to leave the terminal. Breathing the air of that place in an attempt to calm you down, but you failed when all your memories flooded into your brain in a succession of images.

You started to walk thinking about it thoroughly, that nerves invade your body was kind of stupid being honest, you had done this before and with a lot more pressure according to yourself, after all not everyone could boast of have been a manager for the popular girl group Iz*One.

That’s right, after committing the biggest folly of your life by deciding to move to South Korea instead of go to the college you found a miracle job, specifically being one of the Iz*One managers for 1 year and a half. That was until due to some personal reasons you were forced to return to your home country. And 4 years later here you are, back in the Asian country to resume your job as a manager.

You were surprised when Wake One Entertainment contacted you offering a new job. Apparently they didn’t have enough managers in the company due to the arrival of new groups, which caused a total restructuring of the staff, leaving Kep1er in search of a new manager. That’s where you and your good work done with Iz*One years ago came in, knowing that the new head of the staff was one of your coworkers at that time.

It was a really complicated decision to make for several reasons: 1. You hadn't spoken the language for a long period of time. 2. Take care of a group full of teenage divas wasn’t an easy job. 3. And you were comfortable in your current job. Seen this way, only a crazy person would accept that offer. Exactly what you did 5 minutes later.

You came back down to earth as the cab stopped, and you were able to see right in front of you the Wake One building. You walked inside the building and introduced yourself to the front desk indicating that you were coming for the manager vacancy, one of the receptionists guided you to the conference room where your interview would take place.

The interview was nothing more than a formality, obviously the vacancy was yours, but certain guideline had to be met.

They told you that the Kep1er girls were currently in the USA for the KCON, so you would not start working with them until the next week, once they returned.

You returned to the main lobby, the keys of your new house were given to you alongside your company car with some more documents to sign.

It was at that moment meanwhile you were signing the documents that you heard a familiar voice behind you calling your name. “Manager oppa!”

You turned yourself to face the former Iz*One member and now soloist, Jo Yuri. “It is really you, manager oppa!?” She shouted in surprise, covering her mouth with her hands.

Your heart almost skipped a beat as you looked her up and down. She was no longer that little girl she used to be when you were spending your days with her. Even though she had grown up, she still had that youthful look.

“Excuse me, but…” You left the pen over the desk. “Do i know you?”

Her facial expression faded as soon as you said that, turning from surprise to annoyance.

“Do you really forgot about me, oppa!?” Her louder and offended voice made you laugh and making her even angrier.

“I couldn’t forget you so easy, Yuri.” You told her showing a smile and she sigh annoyed. “You still like teasing me. But it’s been a long time, what are you doing here?” Her tone sounded cheerful again.

“Woah, so now you’ll be managing Kep1er, they are so lucky to have you I envy them, but now I have to record my new song, hope to see you often around the company, oppa!” You said goodbye to her as you watched her to disappear when the elevator closed its doors, didn’t expect to meet one of your former members so soon.

You walked out the building to take the car and drive right to your new home, making a quick stop in a convenience store to buy some fast food for dinner accompanied by a drink.

Finally, you arrived at home, left the food bag and some papers on a nearby table and plopped down on the sofa visibly tired, jet lag was taking its toll.

Even so, you found the strength to browse through some things and investigate more about your new members while you had dinner. You were relieved to know that they were fewer than the last time, although from what you could see in some videos they seemed louder, especially that little girl named Hikaru.

You finished for today, noticing that it was already dark outside and decided to take a long relaxing shower before getting into bed, whereas you tried to fall asleep your memories of years ago with the Iz*One girls came flooding back.

After your step down you had been following from the distance the evolution of every member career, and you couldn't be more proud of each one of them, but seeing them now in real life would be a different feeling.

Then you remembered the brief encounter with Yuri in the company, you began to think about how much she changed in these years, she was one of the younger members back then, but now she seemed so much mature.

You couldn’t help but think how much her body had changed this time, she was all grown up and transform into a real woman. You even noticed how good she fit in those jeans she was wearing today that enhanced her hips and showed off her ass.

BUT WHAT THE HELL I AM EVEN THINKING! You shouted in your mind sitting up in the bed breathing heavily, how you could be thinking about her in that way, about one of the girls you took care for almost two years, the one you practically treated like a younger sister.

You lay back down in bed again, looking at the ceiling and then looked down at your pelvic area, noticing the big erection that had formed under your pants. “I must be sick.” You whispered, slipping your hand under your clothes, trying to stimulate yourself before falling asleep.

The next morning you made your way to the company, but first you took a shower and had breakfast that only consists of a coffee cup and a couple of cookies. The biggest part of the day happened in the office, you had so much work to do before Kep1er returned from their activities.

Around lunchtime someone knocked to your door, you stretched out on the chair giving way to the person who has knocked. “Oppa, let’s have lunch together!” Yuri exclaimed showing her head out the door.

She burst into your office carrying a heavy bag that lifted it to your eyes level.

“Yuri…”

“I assumed that you'll have a lot of work in your first day, and you always insisted me on not skipping meals, so it’s my time to pay you back.” she said with a big smile. She had touched you there.

“I really missed tteokbokki.” You said eating the food. Yuri was sitting in the chair in front of you, she wasn’t eating but admiring you. “Do I have to remind you that you also have to eat?” You scolded her, but she just laughed at it. “Don’t worry about me, I want to eat other type of food…” “Which one?” You asked, taking one more fried chicken piece. “You.” Hearing that made the piece of chicken slip on your chopsticks and roll off the desk, you couldn’t say anything, you were petrified.

“You spend a lot of time with Yena, now you also replicate her stupid jokes.”

“It’s not a joke, oppa.” For the first time ever you could see an unusual expression on her face, one you have never seen before, what was going on with her?

“Yuri, stop this joke now, it’s not funny…” “I’ve already told you, it’s not a joke…” She said standing up from her chair and crawled under your desk, reaching you.

“Yuri! What are you doing?”

“You are so tense, oppa, you should relax.” At this point she was fully under your desk reaching your legs and touching between them, why was this happening to you?

“I always thought that the first one to do something like this with you would be Eunbi unnie, years ago I found out she was talking about it together with Hyewon unnie and Chaeyeon unnie.” Hear that made you open wide your eyes, it couldn’t be true. “It’s kind of normal, a young women group with raging hormones and such a young manager, kind and attractive, it’s every girl’s dream.”

But she was right, back then you were too much young to managing a group, actually you still are today, even Eunbi was older than you. That’s why you considered all of them as your sisters, and that’s why this situation was so complicated.

“Yuri…we both knows this is so wrong.” You tried to reason with her.

“You are not my manager anymore and we both are adults, but mostly important…” She touched the huge bulge that had already formed under your pants. “You really desire it, don’t you?”

“Yuri, please, anyone could come in at any moment.” Your words were useless, she was already unbuckling the belt of your pants, and you couldn’t or rather didn’t want to do anything to stop her. A few seconds later you could felt how your penis was set free.

“IT’S SO BIG!” She exclaimed, amazed by the size of your dick, making you shift restlessly in your seat.

“Lower your voice, someone could hear you.” You scold her and became more and more anxious as you looked towards the door of your office.

“Sorry, it’s just…it’s incredible oppa.”

Her eyes couldn't be apart from your dick, she was totally hypnotized looking at it, but suddenly she started to massage your penis with her hands, making you moan.

She ran her tongue all over your length, from the tip to your balls and repeated this for a while, at each repeat your cock was more and more wet and your knuckles were turning white due to the strength you were grappling to the chair armrest.

She looked at your face still kneeling down ad if she was asking for permission to continue, you succumbed to the temptation, you had already fallen time ago, and nodded your head. Then she opened her mouth and put every inch of your cock she could inside her. She was struggling to make you be fully inside her mouth, but you were so much huge to her, so she decided to move her tongue around the part of your dick that was already inside.

You couldn’t describe what you were feeling at that moment, it was the nearest to being in pleasure paradise you never experienced. Yuri’s tongue didn’t stop moving over your penis, constants moves that went in unison with your moans.

She made an effort to make you fit completely in her mouth, you looked at her, noticing her cheeks filled with your cock. You let out a loud moan as the tip of your cock brushed against her throat.

She peeled herself off you for air, gasping visibly and with a large thread of saliva coming out of her mouth, masturbating you meanwhile she tried to recover.

“How the hell are you so good at this?” She smiled, taking that as a compliment. “I’ve dreamed a lot of times with this moment, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s certainly better than masturbating by myself like last night.” You mentioned out loud as if you were talking to yourself. It took you a second to realize your mistake.

“Wait, what I wanted to say was…”

“I see.” She cut you off. “Manager oppa is a dirty man who has always thought about having me like this with him.”

“NO!” You quickly denied provoking her loud laughs.

“But it makes me happy, because you were always good and kind to me, so it’s my time to make oppa’s fantasies come true” She said bringing your cock closing to her mouth once again.

“What you mean?” You asked when a sinister smiled was formed on her face.

“Fuck my mouth, oppa.”

And there you lost the last shred of self-control you had, if you still had any.

As soon as she resumed the blowjob, you put one of your hands behind her head, making her swallow the entire of your length. Yuri supported her hands on your chair, trying to follow with her head the pace that you were now setting.

You could hear how she was choking on your cock every time your hands down her head into it. A bit worried, you tried to be less rude and give her a rest, but her hands stopped you, telling you that she was enjoying this as much as you.

“My god, Yuri...just like that…” You kept moaning, grabbing her hair that was falling into her forehead at the same time you started to move your hips making you go deeper on her mouth, fucking her throat.

She looked at you with fire in her eyes, telling you with her gaze that she wanted even more, you didn’t hesitate and kept fucking her mouth more aggressively.

You let her go, giving her time to catch her breath, her eyes were watering, and her makeup was totally ruined. It was the hottest thing you had ever seen in your life.

You bent down to lift her chin and kiss her passionate for a while until you separated from her and leaned back in your seat. You took your own penis in your hands, offering it to her.

“Finish the job.”

She immediately went back to sucking you desperately, her mouth was already habituated perfectly to your size, so you could notice how she was improved by the time pass.

You took her hands, forcing her to satisfy you using only her head. Sometimes it would slip out of her mouth and she would struggle to suck it back in, completely possessed by lust.

Her face was between your hands now, you couldn’t stop admiring the way she was sucking you, she placed your penis into her right cheek then you touched the resultant bulge, she stopped then and let your dick rest in her mouth closing her eyes enjoying your caresses.

If it were up to you, you would have stayed like this forever, but unfortunately it was time to end.

“Make sure to swallow it all.” You warned moving your hips faster feeling your load concentrating on your tip letting you know you were ready for the shot.

“YURI!” You screamed, unable to hold back any longer, reaching the orgasm and shooting your cum straight down her throat.

She did her best to hold it all in, but at the end a bit of cum dripped out of her mouth and ran down her chin to finally fall to the office floor.

The rest of your cum was still inside her mouth, she stepped back and opened her mouth to show you the amount of cum you gave to her. You watched her swallow all your cum at once, and that made you feel hornier than ever.

“Good girl.” You smiled at her.

She smiled you back and stood up, grabbing her bag to pull out a small makeup set, and trying to fix the mess you both made on her.

“Good as new.” She said, looking at herself in the small mirror. “Thanks for the meal oppa, hope we can repeat.” And she winked at you, making you come back to reality.

“Yuri, this was amazing, believe me, but it can’t happen again, or I will be in problems.”

“You don’t have to worry, I’ll make sure no one would discover us and…” Her cheeks turned red for a second.

“And?”

“I was thinking, maybe oppa can teach me a lot of things…” Oh, she was talking on that sense.

Your cheeks went also full red color and your brain started to malfunction, trying hard to formalize an excuse, a reason to refuse while she headed towards the door.

“Oh, I almost forget about it.” She stopped in the doorway.

“I told the girls about you, and they want to see you, Eunbi unnie will host a dinner party for us tonight in her house, you can’t miss it!” She said cheerful before leaving the office.

“Great, just what I needed.” You mumbled to yourself in an ironic way, throwing yourself back in the chair, noticing that you still had your member free, and hurried to get dressed again.

You slammed your face against the desk causing a louder sound and let it out a big sigh. “I’m going to get fired.”

[seriallover]

Why certain people capture the spotlight?⭐️

1. The luminaries, the Sun and Moon naturally draw attention in a birth chart. People with strong Sun or Moon placements tend to light up any room they enter, effortlessly standing out.

Just like everyone loves capturing the beauty of a sunrise or the glow of a full moon, those with these placements have a magnetic energy that people can’t help but notice.

It’s almost like they’re always in the spotlight, which is why they often feel the need to look their best.☀️🌕

Beyoncé, Purva Phalguni Sun, Chitra Lagna and Venus.

Michael Jackson, Magha Sun and Shatabhisha Lagna.

Bella Hadid, Purva Phalguni Moon and Lagna.

There's not much to say about Beyoncé and Michael that isn't already well-known—they're icons in their own right, the biggest stars of our time. Bella Hadid has become the most photographed model off-duty and in 2022, she was named Model of the Year.

Gia Carangi, often hailed as the first true supermodel, paved the way for all the other supermodels that followed. She had a Shravana Sun and Lagnesh, with Hasta as her Lagna and a Shatabhisha Moon.

Britney Spears, Shravana Moon, was one of the most photographed stars for a while. The crazy amount of media attention even led to harassment and really affected her mental health.

Gisele Bündchen, Pushya Sun and Purva Phalguni Lagna, the only "Ubermodel"-that means being more than a supermodel.

Lauren Hutton, Pushya Moon and Lagna, holds the record for the most Vogue covers—26 in total.

I previously explored about how lunar-dominant people often achieve significant success on social media.

2. Chitra Nakshatra, known as the "Star of Opportunity," carries the Shakti of "accumulating merit." The word "Chitra" translates to "wonderful" and "pleasing to look at," as well as "illusion."

The deity of this nakshatra is Tvastar, the celestial architect who designed the universe. The symbol of Chitra is the "pearl" or "bright jewel," symbolizing beauty and uniqueness.💎💍

"Chitra" also means "picture," so individuals with this nakshatra are often naturally photogenic. 📸Tvastar, as the creator of Maya (illusion), grants those under Chitra the ability to craft captivating personas, making them talented models, photographers, actors, and successful on social media.

Kim Kardashian, Chitra Sun, built a career centered on her image. As one of the first influencers, she's become one of the most prominent and influential figures on social media. In 2015, she released “Selfish”, a book featuring a collection of her selfies.

Cindy Kimberly, Chitra Moon and Shravana Lagna, shot to fame because of her striking beauty. Her big break came when Justin Bieber posted about her on his Instagram. Now, she’s a major beauty influencer and a well-known model.

Anna Nicole Smith, Chitra Sun and Hasta Moon, made a name for herself as a model, completely based on her image. She was once one of the most photographed women in the world, and photographers loved working with her, often saying she was one of the easiest and most exciting people to capture on camera.

The thing with Chitra individuals is that, because of Tvastar, the celestial craftsman, their features often become iconic. For instance, Kim drew the attention to the BBL, Cindy’s nose has become a major inspiration for many women, and Anna Nicole brought attention back to curvy bodies at a time when the "heroin chic" look was in vogue, reminiscent of Marilyn Monroe's era.

3. Dhanishtha🌟 Shakti is "power to give abundance and fame," meaning "the most famous," "the most heard of." This nakshatra is recurring in the charts of people who usually marry famous individuals, making them well-known as well, often attracting more attention than their partner.

Princess Diana, Dhanishtha Moon and Magha Lagnesh, was the most photographed woman in the world, holding the record for the most sold-out paparazzi pictures, including one that sold for 6 million dollars.

Marilyn Monroe, Rohini Sun, Dhanishtha Moon, and Ashlesha Lagna, was also one of the most photographed women of her time.

4. Shatabhisha, meaning "hundred stars" and represented by a veiled star and an empty circle, is a nakshatra ruled by Rahu. ⭕️

This nakshatra is associated with illusion, the power to effect radical change, innovation, the foreign, esoteric influences, and trends. The empty circle can also symbolize the idea of a cult or community, like the Navy for Rihanna.

Rihanna, Shatabhisha Sun, stands out as one of the most influential artists and fashion icons. She has consistently set trends in the fashion world, with her style serving as an inspiration to many. Recently, her maternity looks have redefined how celebrities approach their appearance during pregnancy, bringing a stylish twist to the norm.

Demi Moore, Lagnesh in Shravana and Jupiter in Shatabhisha in the first house, set a trend for nude pregnancy photoshoots. At the time, this was quite controversial, but it has since become a common practice not just among celebrities, but also for non-celebrity women.

Elizabeth Taylor, Sun in Shatabhisha, was also a major target for paparazzi. George Hamilton once remarked:

"I remember when the word 'paparazzi' came along, and it just meant a bunch of guys who were all photographers looking for Elizabeth Taylor. Desperately looking for Elizabeth Taylor! And that was the beginning of paparazzi. They were not going for glamour anymore. They were going for the destruction of glamour."

[mirohlayo]

CHASE MY DREAM(S)

( Lewis has one last dream to fulfill, well if you don't count the most important one. )

warning : a lil boring introduction, all fluffy

note : i want a Lewis in my life pls

word count : 1.3k

Mercedes. Lewis Hamilton. Two names that both worked perfectly. We always likened them to one another, like pieces of a puzzle that fit together. As soon as we thought of one, we thought of the other.

However, the seven time Formula 1 world champion struggled to achieve victories and podiums, and his formerly usual appearances on these three steps were much less frequent, rare and almost... non existent. It was not his lack of experience that held him back, Lewis was surely the most experienced on the current grid, and that without a doubt.

Rather, it was his opponents, a certain team and a certain driver. RedBull and Max Verstappen. Many of Lewis' fans will say that he was robbed of his eighth championship, in 2021, but we are not here to debate that subject. The loyal Mercedes driver doubted his choices, his actions and his performances. His thoughts wandered, because at what price could he afford this eighth championship that he dreamed of so much?

The price to pay was surely great and fatal. Leaving the team for which he raced, the one with whom he has always been faithful and loyal for 11 years. But after 3 years without success, maybe a new start will do him good, and maybe this change will turn everything upside down. He still had a dream to accomplish, this eighth championship to win. Well, to be honest, he still had two dreams to fulfill.

This famous championship, as previously announced, and then, her. This person who has just joined Lewis in his driver room. This pretty woman who has known him for several years now. The one for whom Lewis' heart seemed to melt in an instant as soon as he laid eyes on her.

She looked like a dream. Angelic and almost unreal. The kind of face you can admire for hours, and the kind of voice you can listen to speak for hours because there was an inexplicable sweetness emanating from it. It was one of Lewis's most beautiful dreams. To be by her side forever, to finally have the courage to offer her a life together, a love of the strongest.

He took her in his arms, squeezing her gently. He could let himself go in these embraces, and show her his weaknesses and his fears. She knew him by heart now, and she worried a lot about his mental health and his career choices. She was perfect in his eyes. “Still thinking about your contract, mhh?” Lewis chuckled weakly, almost ironically. He expected you to ask him this question.

His eyes, where a glow that you couldn't describe danced, met yours. You looked for him, and behind those pupils that were full of thousands of different feelings, you tried to find the words he was trying to say. The true feelings he felt deep inside. He was still smiling weakly, his gaze softened by your face. "I think deep down I made the right choice, Y/n. It's just that leaving Mercedes after all these years..."

He couldn't manage to finish his sentence, looking down and staring at your feet face to face. He felt totally exposed, lacking in confidence and full of doubts. Maybe a little shameful. His grip had loosened, his hands resting in the hollow of your hips. "They haven't really listened to you over the last two years, Lewis... as if you weren't their driver, as if the vision of a seven time Formula 1 champion who drives every day had no importance"

You manage to extract another mocking laugh from Lewis, who, despite his love for this team, totally agreed with your words. His racing team had been indifferent to his suggestions and comments. He played nervously with his fingers. You could feel the tension and stress in him, and seeing him like this broke your heart. The man in front of you didn't deserve this.

You grabbed his hands gently, separating them from each other. Lewis looked up, his expression completely dejected. He looked like he was about to cry and you couldn’t stand the sight anymore. Wrapping your arms around his back, you took care to gently guide his head onto your shoulder, into the crook of your neck, where he loved to nestle comfortably. His hands hadn't moved, just gripped your waist tighter.

Several minutes passed like this. The noise of the paddock hidden by the walls of the driver room. Lewis felt...at home. He was relaxing little by little, he absolutely didn't want to let you go. Everything seemed normal now, in your arms, far from all these incessant questions. “I believe in you so much, Lewis. Everyone believes in you, and everyone is very, very proud of you” Your lips brush against the driver’s temple, placing a soft, reassuring kiss there.

“It’s time for you to chase your dream.” Lewis leaned back slightly, locking his gaze with yours. He tilted his head to the side, a smile hanging on his face. "Dreams. Chase my dreams" You didn't immediately understand where he was going with this. Why was he repeating the same sentence as you? And then, after a few moments of confusion, you raised your eyebrows, intrigued and curious. You had finally found the difference, and it was in the number of dreams Lewis had.

He had piqued your curiosity, and he himself had guessed it by examining your expression. His smile gets bigger. “I don’t have one dream, but two dreams to fulfill Y/n.” He brings his face slightly closer to yours, only a few centimeters. He grins even wider. “Win this eighth championship. And above all, win the heart of this absolutely beautiful girl.” His index finger points to the top of your chest, reflecting his words.

Your eyes widened, your cheeks blushed violently. It is true that you absolutely, but absolutely did not expect a statement like that. Lewis couldn't help but laugh happily, satisfied with your reaction. "I have a race to win, sweetheart. Wait for me, m'kay?" He winked at you, before rushing onto the circuit. Everything was happening at an incredible pace, and while you were still stuck in your driver room thinking about what just happened, the race was already coming to an end. But an incredibly beautiful ending. Silverstone, 2024, and a Lewis on the podium of his home race. Finally.

The shock was still present in you, but with this sudden victory of your favorite driver - and your secret lover - the adrenaline didn't seem to want to subside. The applause from the completely overexcited and crazy crowd, the euphoric atmosphere. This time, everything really felt like a dream. So, gently pushing the different people, making your way among the Mercedes employees, you saw him there on the podium.

Big, strong, and proud of himself. A huge smile on his face and tears of joy beading on his sweet face. He looked around. He was looking for something, someone. And he finally seemed to have found it. You couldn't take your eyes off his, both too hypnotized by this surreal moment. And, despite the vibrant and almost dizzying atmosphere, he managed to read on your pretty lips these three words that he dreamed of hearing from you.

And this dream came true. So, finally, at the moment when he was brandishing this magnificent trophy, on the top step of this magnificent podium, he had regained this ounce of hope. His first dream had come true, and he had finally won the heart of the woman of his dreams. So, if he managed to did it after all these years, of course he can win that much desired eighth championship, right?

[sscieloz]

Late night halloween interruptions

Yoo Jimin x Producer!reader

Synopsis: being one of Aespa’s main producers and songwriters meant having to work restlessly to deliver the best track of the year— even if it meant sacrificing a Halloween night out. however, focusing on work turns out to be rather difficult when a certain blonde idol keeps distracting you from your goals.

Warnings: smut, nsfw

Word count: 2.9k

Notes: you better wish I have a great fckn test thursday and friday. plus I didn’t proofread it and I WILL NOT. I still stuck at writing smut and I’m angry. also happy early halloween <3 blonderina lives forever in my mind and now in yours, too. ps: this was originally dom!reader but I changed my mind so it’s just a mess.

You were busy with the computer in front of you when you heard the click of the door, despite your heavy headphones. The soft, almost unnoticeable sound made you turn your chair to face the stranger who disturbed your work and dared to annoy you long after your work hours, late at night at the firm.

It wasn’t a total stranger, though. Staring back at you was Yoo Jimin, looking as angelic as always with her plump, rosy lips and porcelain skin. She had a sneaky smile on her face, tracing your desk with her featherlight fingers as she looked for any signs of dust.

“What do you want, Karina?” Your words came out harsh, unlike you intended to, but you still didn’t apologize. You could feel the tiredness wearing down your bones, the disturbance reminding you of the reason you were up so late in one of the company’s many music studios in the first place: so you wouldn’t be bothered at all.

Yet, she found you. You didn’t expect any less, with Karina hunting you down ever since she first laid her eyes on you, the day you were announced as one of the songwriters and record producers for the group’s latest comeback. Being only four years older, your lack of age made it easy to bond with all the girls: it gave them confidence to join in the making of their songs, too, getting deeply involved in the whole process of their comeback. The four band members trusted you and loved having you around, confiding their feelings and running to you whenever they felt bad or insecure. They all looked up to you— you knew it as much, and because of that, you were always pushing yourself to be the best, hardworking version of yourself you could.

Which was why you were always making sure to listen to their wishes and give them feedbacks on their ideas, so they’d grow as idols and song producers. You might not be as old in age as most of the producers in the industry, but you’ve already had your handful of successful collabs with well-known artists who did nothing but essentially praise you: you were skilled, and knew what you were doing, so it was only natural you exchanged some of your experiences with the girls.

Nonetheless, said closeness allowed the blonde girl to often stare at you like you were the only possible prey for a wolf who’s never eaten in its entire existence. Provocative dances, gifting your coffee orders each morning, stupid questions that kept you busy with her for hours, when you should be working… She certainly made your life difficult, toying with you while you tried as hard as you could not to indulge the idol. It was forbidden for employees to hook up with the company’s celebrities, after all, and you couldn’t risk losing your job.

“Good night to you, too, Y/n.” She greeted you, eyes darting around the place attentively. To make sure you were alone, most certainly. Jimin’s eyes lit up when her assumptions turned out right, happy to see you weren’t hiding some low-class hookup in the room. No, she’d have none of that. “I was just looking for you. You’re missing from the party.”

SM’s traditional Halloween party, currently happening many levels down the recording and mixing room, was one of the many fancy ballrooms hosted by the company at any given chance with intents to show off its supremacy and, of course, hegemony in the musical field. Your friends and coworkers tried getting you to attend multiple times, but you had shrugged them off. You liked hanging out with them, naturally, but not enough to put on a stupid costume and make small talk with preposterous, shallow people for hours straight. So you denied all the invites, knowing your presence wouldn’t be missed at all: they knew how to party by themselves, beyond everything.

As Karina reminded you of the current event, you took some time to take a proper look at her. Wearing a corset that enunciated her curves and the traditional red cape, along with heavy, black makeup contrasting perfectly with her long, blonde hair, Karina was impeccably dressed as Red Riding Hood. She’d even brought the damn basket with her, currently left hanging in the corner of the room.

She’d grown accustomed to the idol life, you noticed as the blonde stared at you with delight and confidence, certainly not innocent nor shy anymore as when she met you, nearly two years ago.

The old Karina would never wear such a thing. It made her stand out too much, and she loathed it, to have all of the attention and the stares focused solely on her. You still remember that same girl at last year’s Halloween party: dressed as a witch, wearing one of Minjeong’s old costumes, observing the older subaenims and idols with curious, scared doe eyes. Innocent, even.

And the young woman who looked at you like she was ready to devour you whole was anything but.

Karina didn’t mind your lack of manners, though. Leaning on your mixing table as if she owned it, she tried again, “Aren’t you coming to the party? Really? Come on, it’s Halloween! Don’t be so boring and live life for once, for God’s sake.”

You scoffed, coughing hard enough that you had to take a sip of your water to cool yourself, “The party’s for idols and shareholders.”

“And employees too, silly head.” She answered just as quickly, with a broad smile, dismissing all the dryness in your tone. This time, the look in her eyes reminded you of the Karina she truly was: tender, cautious, almost delicate. “I have a spare outfit, in case you want to keep the theme. You’d be the wolf, then.”

You turned your computer off, narrowing your eyes at her. Her intentions weren’t subtle: it was just as clear as clear water for anyone to see, but you couldn’t help it. You just had to have her begging.

For months, you’ve imagined what those pretty lips would look like all messed up with your juices, bruised from your bites and kisses. The thought of it being forbidden only fuels you with the need to ruin her even more. It makes you itch with how much you want to carve your name onto her skin, leaving her as nothing but a whimpering mess until no one— not even herself, could please her anymore. Only you would be capable of bringing her over the edge, from then. Your most feverish wish was to ruin her for anyone else.

You wouldn’t do it, though. It was forbidden, as said before, and you could lose your job for that. So, naturally, you wouldn’t.

She was fucking testing you, though.

“What do you want, Karina?” You repeated yourself, tone incisive, and yet she didn’t let go.

She was having fun with her girls before searching for you. It was her first year attending the party as an official idol, just as she’d always dreamed of. Nothing would piss her off, and she would get what she wanted.

And currently, what she wanted was to have the pretty producer everyone was whispering about around the hallways all to herself.

“It’s Jimin to you, Y/n.” She mumbled, brushing her legs over your arms. Her touch was gentle and patient, making you close your hands into fists to avoid pulling her by the ankles and taking her right in the mixing table. “And I just wanted to check if you wanted to have fun.”

“And it is unnie for you, dearest.” You reminded her, making the girl roll her eyes. She always made sure to forget to use honorifics when alone with you. “I am your producer, darling.” You added, pushing your chair a bit further and managing to keep some distance between the two of you. “So drop whatever plans you have and find someone else to toy with. I’m not falling for it, baby.”

No matter how desperately you wanted to bend her over the table and fuck her senseless.

Your words made her irritated, with Karina’s angelic face furrowing into an angry pout, as it often did when people didn’t immediately indulge her wishes.

A Spoiled princess, indeed.

“Come on, drop that superior shit.” She rolled her eyes, laying on her elbows without a care about the number of electronics placed over the mixing table. The angle favored her costume, and her perfect breasts, just as intended. You gulped, trying hard not to stare, knowing you’d be doomed if you did.

It was nearly impossible, though. To not drop to your knees and immediately indulge to all her wishes. Karina had always had this sweet, dangerous nature: with light kisses and faked innocency, she toyed with people as she wanted, making them give her it all, which they’d always gladly do. How could they not? When she was so polite and attentive, making sure to pay attention to whatever shit they were saying as if it were the most interesting matter in the world.

You know her better than that, though. Better than to participate in her game, no matter how fucking hot she looked.

You’ve always been told it was hard to know what went through your mind, since your face was always blank and serious, almost disinterested. Taking advantage of that, you smiled back at the defiant girl in front of you, placing your arms in each of her sides, but careful not to touch her.

The anticipation drove her crazy, you knew that much as you felt her shiver under you.

Karina hated how, at the moment, she was the one who felt like the prey. Although it thrilled her to feel like she was not fully in control of the situation, it also irritated her for a bit. However, she knew she’d get what she wanted in the end, of course, so she didn’t mind playing with her food for a bit.

“What do you want, darling?” You repeated yourself, using the same indulgent tone you do when talking to her and the girls about their new songs.

Patient, sweet, and attentive, just like you were during work hours and outside of them.

“I wanted to know if you were going to have some fun, finally. But I see the years have made you as boring as the others. Come on, unnie! Don’t I look pretty?” She managed to recompose herself, returning your smile with a venomous one.

“I won’t pamper you. If that’s what you want, go to your little followers. They’d be more than happy to tell you lies.” Your face was so close to hers, yet your words stated the opposite of how you felt.

Truthfully, your cunt ached, and your heart was beating so fast you were afraid Karina might hear.

That little prey-game aroused you just as much as it did to her. It was a euphoric feeling, one that blew out your pupils and made the blood run through your veins, giving you that good kind of rush. Only Karina could make you feel such emotions without even touching you.

She was fucking gorgeous, and you wanted every single inch of her for yourself.

“So I’m not beautiful tonight?” She batted her lashes, arms resting on her sides like a crystal princess. “I’ve tried my best to look pretty. I’ve always wanted to be Red for Halloween, after all.”

“Do you like to be a prey, Jimin?” You opened a teasing smile, no longer sustaining your uninterested persona. Your fingers teased her collarbone, making the girl drop her head back to appreciate the touch.

You were doomed. Likewise, you knew that the moment she entered the room.

“To be desired.” She corrected, hands comfortably on your arms like she’s been doing this forever. “Chased, even. It’s fun.” She faced you, suddenly serious. “Will we have fun, Y/n-nie?” Those innocent fucking doe eyes of hers, staring expectantly at you.

You sigh, pulling her onto your lap as you inhaled her sickening perfume. Dangerous and sweet, lingering on her skin. You’d soon make it disappear, leaving her whole body drenched in sweat.

Just as she planned for you to.

Grabbing her beautiful corset, you took your time untying the lace before finally looking at her delicate frame.

God, you were going to ruin her little body entirely, until she was writhing and yelling for you to stop. “One time, and one time only. Got it?” She nodded, seaming pleased enough with your answer.

She’d carve her way onto your brain nice and slow, no worries. So, for now, a one-night stand would suffice.

“Just this once.” She hid her face in the crook of your neck, giggling with delight to have her wishes granted.

You finally gave in to your carnal wishes and kissed her, hard and urgently. You’d let her win, just once.

Because it’s Halloween, and she is indeed the most beautiful fucking woman you’ve ever seen.

-

“H-harder, Y/n. Fuck!” Karina moaned loudly, nails scratching your back to the point where thick red lines adorned your whole back. “Deeper, now.”

Like a queen, she demanded, making you roll your eyes. Her face was all fucked out, her hair unraveled and sweaty from the pounding, and she was absolutely sure her hips, ass and thighs would be all bruised from the way you were gripping them, carving the strap onto her as you made Karina your own personal fucktoy.

“You’re sure too demanding for someone someone who was begging to be filled minutes ago.” You taunted, carving yourself into the girl even deeper. Her hands were interlocked on your neck and her legs did the same to your waist, trying to steady herself at the intensity. “You know how much of a whore you are, right? Going up all those floors by yourself with that fucking strap in your basket just so I could have free use of all your holes.”

“Shut up.” She squeezed her eyes, gasping for air as your hands blocked her pulse point, down her neck. “God, you’re so full of yourself.”

You laughed at her brattiness: she’d never give up, truly. Removing your hands from her skin, you opened her thighs so the strap could reach deeper onto her sweet spot— which it clearly did, as Karina announced so herself. Her wetness was nearly drenching the whole table, making the sound of your thrusts even louder as you placed your fingers on her clit, not yet moving but applying just the right amount of pressure.

“Keep acting up and you won’t get to cum.” You told her, your free hand going up to pinch one of her voluptuous breasts. They were so bouncy and pretty, you just wanted to suck and mark them until there was not a visible inch of her milky skin that wasn’t covered in bruises.

Karina opened her dark eyes, being surprisingly gentle as her teeth scratched your lips. She sucked on your lower lip and, before you had any time to acknowledge, she bit it hard. You drew back, surprised, making her laugh.

“Oh, Y/n-nie,” She licked the blood from your lips, smiling at your reaction. With an unfazed gaze, the girl guided your wrist on her clit, urging you to play with it faster and even harder. She gave your cheek a little kiss, too, adding, “You’re damn cute when you think you’re the one in control.”

You hummed, deciding to focus on Karina’s pleasure instead of indulging the silly provocations she so adored to lead on. With that, you did as told, paying extra attention to her little hole as you returned to your pace, circling and toying with the blonde’s swollen sex until her body began to tremble and she collapsed under you, reaching her orgasm unannounced. You fucked her through it, allowing the dancer to gather her breath and enjoy the final hum of sensations.

Even completely flustered, Karina still looked gorgeous: her body all marked and bruised, a piece of art— your art, and her cunt wet and swollen, still all opened and ready for you.

“You look too pretty like this.” You breathed, verbalizing your thoughts before thinking straight, to which she let out a smile, extending her hand so you’d help her hop off the table.

“I know.” The girl playfully winked at you as her arms found your waist, embracing you in an spontaneous hug.

Of course, you should’ve guessed nothing Karina does is ever not carefully planned. In a second, you find yourself sitting on your chair and she was all over you, now taking her turn into marking her territory. Her mouth sucked and nibbled your clavicle until a line of hickeys are proudly shown, along with her scratches. You don’t mind, though. In fact, you love to have her using you as she wishes, her possessiveness heating up your core at each dirty thing she told you.

“You’re pretty gorgeous yourself, too, you know.” Although her tone is light, the murmur that follows is dense and drenched in possessiveness, “We’ll have to fix that, soon. No one can stare at my pretty toy like they currently do.”

“You wish, Karina.”

“I do, my love.” She licked her lips, groping your body like a woman starved. “Now lay down for me, will you? I’m quite hungry, and I need a taste of you.”

You scoffed at her words and the excessive sweetness in her tone, but as always, did as told.

Just for tonight, you reminded yourself. You’d relent to her wishes just for tonight. And only because it was Halloween, and you were working hard. You deserved a treat.

[mostly-marvel-musings]

The green-eyed monster

A/N: This was super random. Leave a heart, comment or reblog if you enjoyed this fic!

Pairing: Tony Stark x F! Reader

Warnings: 18+ jealousy induced smut, lil choking and breeding kink?

Word count: 1941

Tony Stark Masterlist

.

“Shit!”

You cursed under your breath as you checked your watch, you were running late. Later than fashionably late would permit. But you had a good reason to be. Your stylist and hairdresser had done you up to perfection, all the efforts were worth it because you looked stunning. The dress you chose hugged your curves like a glove, a bold lip, fine jewelry and hair that complimented the outfit beautifully.

The charity event was merely an opportunity to remind a certain someone of what he had been ignoring for the past few weeks. You had to teach him a lesson.

Reaching the venue at record speed, you stepped inside feeling the best version of yourself, immediately grabbing eyeballs of almost everybody present there. Scanning the room, your eyes landed on the man of the hour. Anthony Stark. Looking dapper as ever in a custom-made tux, he was deep in conversation with several who’s who of the society, oblivious to your presence.

That would change soon, you thought.

Heading straight for the bar, you got yourself a glass of champagne, letting your gaze roam over the sea of people to find yourself a distraction. Lucky for you, you didn’t have to make much effort as a man from your past caught your eye and made a beeline in your direction.

“Y/N Y/L/N, as I live and breathe.” he exclaimed, wrapping you in a hug, his hand lingering on your bare skin.

“Noah Bennett. Since when did you start thinking about someone besides yourself?” you jested, celebrating on the inside as his eyes dipped down your body, letting you know your plan was working. From the corner of your eye, you saw a couple of people part to reveal Tony Stark with a curious look on his face.

“You look hot, Y/N. I’m sorry if I’m being too direct here but wow. Look at you!”

You laughed as he twirled you, placing a hand deliberately on his bicep.

“Always the flatterer. Honestly, it is so good to see you here, Noah. I hope you’ve made a sizable donation today. If not, I’m here to persuade you.” you winked, allowing him to get you another drink.

You spoke for quite some time, keeping the conversation light and flirty, you knew exactly what you were doing. Your boyfriend watched the whole scene from a distance, staring daggers at the man who had his hands all over his girl. He had zoned out of the conversation happening around him, focusing only on the two of you. You leaned over to whisper something in that man’s ear, all while his gaze dropped to your cleavage shamelessly, the guy chuckled before he did the same, making you shake your head and blush. It made his jaw tick, irritation bubbled within his chest watching the two of you.

A part of him wanted to intervene and pull you away from the creep, but another part who spoke on behalf of his pride refused. He remembered that man, he’d made a generous pledge for the charity. But right now none of that mattered as much as the fact that he had his arm around your waist, where it didn’t belong. ‘

As time passed, you chatted your way closer to where Tony was, not sparing him much of a glance as you worked your charm to get more rich people to donate for the good cause. Normally, the two of you would be inseparable but given the little fight you had had last week, it made sense for you to make separate appearances. Plus you had your little entry planned to teach him a lesson.

“Oh Y/N, the event is already a success. Well done! You’ve managed to charm everyone into emptying their pockets.” an elderly gentleman complimented you, making you giggle. Ulterior motives aside, the evening truly was a big win.

“When the hostess is easy on the eyes, I guess it helps a lot, wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Stark?”

You felt his presence before you saw the man, the familiar scent and aura that he carried enveloped your senses before a protective arm slid around your waist, pulling you to his side.

“And here I thought I’d have to undo a couple of my shirt buttons to make you guys cough it up.”

His statement earned him laughter from the crowd, his thumb rubbing the bare skin on your back in a way that made your breathing hitch. Turning to look at him, you were met with eyes that ogled your decked up form, the gaze was hungry yet mixed with a hint of annoyance.

Tony leaned over and pressed his lips against your ear, making it hard for you to ignore the excitement you felt.

“What do you think you’re doing, sweetheart?”

You feigned confusion, shrugging nonchalantly before taking a sip of your drink, further adding to his irritation. It seemed to be the last straw as Tony grabbed your hand and hastily made his way out of the venue, leaving the guests perplexed.

He remained silent the entire ride back home, keeping his eyes focused on the road. You noticed his knuckles turned white from gripping the wheel tightly.

This would be a lot of fun, you thought. Winding Tony up had an effect on you, you couldn’t wait for him to have his way with you. Pretty confident that sooner or later he would. The night wasn’t over yet.

“You slept with the guy, didn’t you?” he asked out of the blue, still not sparing you a glance.

“Which guy?”

“Don’t fucking test me, Y/N. You know exactly who I’m talking about.” he seethed, putting his foot on the gas and sped up.

“Oh and where did you get that idea from, may I ask?” you suppressed a grin, keeping the tone of your voice light.

“I have eyes. I can see. Someone was way too touchy back there. I don’t like it when others touch my stuff.”

This made you scoff and look out the window as your home came into view. You didn’t move from your seat until Tony opened your door and grabbed your hand once again, taking determined strides up to your house.

“Are you jealous?” you were slightly out of breath keeping up with his pace, the smirk in your voice pretty evident.

“I don’t get jealous.”

“Oh no, you’re right. You just get territorial, and protective. And just a tad needy, right?”

Clicking his tongue, Tony shoved you inside your bedroom, slamming the door behind him before crashing his lips on yours. This kiss had fire, brimming with passion but laced with anger as he walked you back until your back hit the wall, eliciting a gasp. Taking this opportunity, his tongue made it past your lips, clearly winning the game of dominance.

“I think you forgot that you have a partner who needs all your attention before any of your ‘friends’ do.” he murmured against your lips before letting them trail down your neck, nipping at your skin.

“So you were jealous.” you smirked, tugging on his hair as he bruised your skin with a hickey, his fingers grazing up your leg to reach between them, growling when he realized you weren’t wearing panties.

“Fuck yeah I was.” his hand cupped your sex, fingers brushed along the slit that had gathered slick already. Without warning, two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, assaulting your walls by stretching them out.

“Take off your dress.” he commanded, his left hand wrapping itself around your throat gently, his brown eyes darkened with lust.

“You don’t get to order me around.” you didn’t sound convincing at all, given that he chose the moment to curl his fingers inside your tight heat, you gasped.

“Slow down, Tony.” You breathed.

“Take it off or I’ll do it for you.”

The pressure on your throat increased ever so slightly, causing your walls to tighten around his thick digits as he continued pumping. Your eyes were shut in pleasure when you heard the fabric of your dress rip, falling at your feet in shreds. The dress you spent thousands of dollars on was destroyed in seconds, not that you were complaining. If anything, you were counting on this to happen.

Tony made you open your mouth and fed you his fingers, the taste of your desperate arousal evident on them as you rolled your tongue. His cock twitched in his dress pants, eager to be freed and buried deep within your pussy.

You fumbled with his belt, undid the zip and shoved his pants down, earning a chuckle from him. Your eyes flashed victory before arousal took over completely, your body ached for him.

Holding the back of your knees, he entered you in one swift motion, a synchronic moan echoed in the room. Tony didn’t hold back after that, his thrusts set a brutal pace that made you see stars, the line of pleasure and pain thinning as he continued to plough into your sopping heat.

“You like being reminded who you belong to, don’t you sweetheart?” He grunted, every thrust sent you closer and closer to the edge.

Fervently nodding, you held onto his shoulders as cock threatened to split you in two, unable to comprehend much else.

“Cat got your tongue? Use your words, baby.”

“Yes! I wanted you to get jealous tonight, Tony.”

He paused momentarily, making you whine which he swallowed in an instant, slanting his lips on yours. The kiss that contained everything, from dominance to love and everything in between. While he felt guilty for ignoring you these past few weeks, a part of him loved you for your antics, especially ones which ended like this.

His cock twitched inside your walls as he resumed.

“What if I come inside you, huh? What if I fill you up with my seed, get you pregnant? Show them all who you belong to..what do you say, sweetheart?”

He breathed against your skin, his voice muffled in your hair. You answered by clamping your walls around his length, pulling him further inside, tugging on his hair to signal you were close too.

“I’m gonna fill you up, Y/N.” he panted, watching your hand reach down to rub your clit as you brought yourself pleasure.

“Come for me, Tony. Come inside me.” You cried, burying your face in his neck as your walls fluttered around his length. Tony followed with a final twitch of his cock, ropes of cum painting your walls as he filled you up, giving you all he had.

He carried you to bed, still snug inside you and laid you down, littering soft kisses along your shoulder. You grinned victoriously, carding your fingers through his hair.

“Why didn’t you tell him we’re together? He was all over you.” He kept his voice soft, tugging at your heartstrings as always.

“You did what you did to get my attention, and I did what I had to to get yours. Now we’re even.”

Tony looked up at your face, his expression incredulous with a hint of pride playing on his lips.

“You little minx. Have I told you I love you?” He pecked your lips a couple of times, slowly resuming to thrust inside you with his soft cock, pushing his cum further inside and keeping it there.

“Not that I recall. No.”

[novaursa]

Fire and Gold (no soul to hear)

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Paring: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Note: This is the final chapter.

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: coat of gold and three heads

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

The banners of the Great Houses fluttered in the wind over Harrenhal, the sigils of lions, stags, and dragons rippling in the evening breeze as the crowd gathered for the feast following the grand tourney. The air was still alive with the energy of the jousting, and although the excitement had begun to wane, there was a certain anticipation in the hall. All eyes were on Rhaegar as he made his way through the throng, his violet eyes bright with the joy of victory. He had won, of course. He always won, but this time it was different. This time, he had crowned you as Queen of Love and Beauty.

Your heart had raced when he placed the crown of blue roses upon your head, the sweet fragrance mingling with the heady scent of victory. The world had held its breath as Rhaegar declared you, his sister-wife, the fairest in the realm. You could still feel the weight of the roses on your brow, the petals soft against your skin, though their meaning was sharper, darker, than anyone else knew.

The feast was in full swing now, the hall alive with laughter, the clink of goblets, and the melodies of minstrels. Yet amid the merriment, your eyes flickered over to where Cersei sat, brooding in silence beside Robert Baratheon, her golden-haired children at her side. The sight of her soured the sweetness of your triumph, her jealousy almost tangible. She had wanted this life, wanted Rhaegar, wanted everything you had. But she had been given to Robert instead, and though the two of them had "produced" golden-haired heirs, the bitterness in her eyes was undeniable.

Cersei’s fingers curled tightly around her goblet, and she forced a smile as one of her children, a boy with bright, golden locks, tugged at her sleeve. You saw the flicker of resentment there, the edge of anger she could not hide. Robert was drunk, as usual, leaning back in his chair and boasting loudly to those around him. He paid no attention to Cersei or the children, too absorbed in his own revelry. Tywin Lannister sat nearby, his eyes scanning the room, calculating, always calculating. He was trying, as he had for years now, to regain the favor of King Aerys, but with little success. Aerys barely looked at him, his disinterest in Tywin as obvious as the growing anomasity between them. The king’s gaze flitted to his daughter—you—and then to Rhaegar, approval gleaming faintly in his eyes, as if Aerys himself was pleased by the choice of queen for this evening.

You smiled to yourself as you let your eyes drift over the crowd, searching for a figure you had been keeping watch for. And there he was, standing by the shadows near the far end of the hall—Wisdom Rossart. His pale face gleamed in the torchlight, and his thin lips curled into a grin as he caught your eye. The firelight danced in his eyes, and he inclined his head, awaiting your signal.

You gave it with the faintest tilt of your head, and Rossart bowed slightly before slipping silently from the hall, disappearing into the shadows like a ghost. He knew his task. The plans were already in motion.

Beside you, Rhaegar’s hand rested gently on your shoulder, his touch warm, grounding. He had been smiling all evening, more at ease than you had seen him in months. Perhaps it was the joy of the tourney, of winning the crown and crowning you, his beloved, in front of all the realm. Or perhaps it was something deeper, the belief that after all the grief and anger that had filled your lives, you were finally finding peace again. You could see it in his eyes—the relief that, after the loss of your son, you were calm. Too calm.

He watched you now, his gaze soft but searching, as if he were trying to understand the change in you. Since the murder of your child, a fire had been lit inside you, one that had burned so brightly it had frightened him at times. But now, he believed, that fire had dulled. You were content, or so it seemed.

“Y/N,” Rhaegar murmured, leaning closer to you, his lips brushing against your ear. “You’ve been calm these past months, my love. Are you... happy?”

You turned your head to meet his gaze, your smile serene. “I am,” you whispered back. “I have made my peace with what has happened.”

Rhaegar studied your face for a moment longer, searching for something, anything, that might betray the depth of what truly lay within you. But there was nothing. Your calmness was a mask you had worn so well that even he, your dearest Rhaegar, could not see past it. At last, he smiled, his own shoulders relaxing, the tension melting away from him. “Then I am happy, too,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Your eyes flickered to your children, Aelor and Visenya, sitting just a few feet away, laughing with their attendants and watching the minstrels with wide, curious eyes. Aelor, now one and three years old, was the image of his father, regal and composed even at his young age, while Visenya, still so small, clung to her brother’s side, her laughter bright and full of innocence.

You leaned over to their attendants, your voice gentle but firm. “It is time for the children to be taken to their chambers. Escort them to bed.”

The servants nodded, quickly gathering the children and ushering them from the hall. You watched them go, your heart tightening just slightly, but the calmness never left you. They were safe. Tonight, at least, they were safe.

Rhaegar’s arm slipped around your waist as he pulled you closer, his attention returning to the revelry before them. “It is good to see you content, Y/N,” he said, his voice soft with affection. “For so long, I feared I had lost you to grief.”

You leaned your head against his shoulder, smiling as you brought the goblet of wine to your lips, but as you drank, the taste was empty, as if it were nothing but air passing over your tongue. You couldn’t taste the wine anymore—hadn’t been able to for months now. It didn’t matter.

As the feast continued, you felt Rhaegar relax further, confident that the woman he loved, his sister-wife, was finally at peace. He didn’t see the storm that still brewed beneath your calm exterior, didn’t see the fire that burned quietly, waiting for its moment. You had found your peace, yes—but it was the peace that came before the blaze. You glanced once more at the empty space where Rossart had stood, the faintest smile tugging at your lips.

Let them enjoy the night, you thought. For soon, fire and blood will come for those who deserve it.

And when that time came, you would watch them burn, just as the dragon within you had always longed for.

The grand doors of the hall groaned as Ser Oswell Whent and Ser Lewyn Martell pushed them closed, sealing the gathered lords, ladies, and knights inside the vast chamber. The sound of music halted abruptly, the melodies fading into an eerie silence that settled over the hall like a shroud. The air felt heavy, almost oppressive, as if the very walls of Harrenhal had begun to press inward.

King Aerys stood from his seat at the high table, his thin frame silhouetted by the flickering torchlight, his mad eyes gleaming with a strange intensity. His lips curled into a twisted smile as he raised his goblet, the movement drawing every gaze in the room. His voice rang out, sharp and high, cutting through the stillness.

“A toast!” Aerys cried, his voice laced with both malice and glee. “A toast to family, to blood, to fire!”

The gathered courtiers lifted their goblets with hesitant smiles, though an undercurrent of unease rippled through the crowd. Aerys’s words, his tone, carried a weight that none could ignore, and for a moment, the feeling of dread set in, as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for something to happen.

But before Aerys could continue, you stood, your movement slow and deliberate. All eyes shifted to you, and a murmur passed through the hall as they watched, waiting. Rhaegar, seated beside you, glanced up in surprise, his brow furrowing as he watched you rise.

You raised your goblet with a serene smile, your voice carrying through the hall with a calmness that belied the storm within you. “To family,” you began, your tone measured, almost hypnotic. “To the bonds that tie us, the blood that runs through our veins, and the fires we tend... and those we ignite.”

The hall fell deathly quiet. The courtiers exchanged uncertain glances, and you could feel their unease spreading like a ripple through the room. Rhaegar’s hand brushed against your arm, a silent question, but you didn’t acknowledge him. Your gaze drifted across the faces in the hall—Cersei’s sharp eyes, Tywin’s calculating expression, Robert’s oblivious drunken grin. All of them, guilty in your eyes. All of them about to pay.

Cersei, seated beside her golden-haired children, felt a prickle of dread. Something was wrong. The lighting in the hall had been off the entire evening, the flicker of the torches casting strange shadows across the room. She had noticed it earlier, the way the flames had seemed to shift unnaturally, but now... now it felt as if the very air had darkened. She glanced toward the walls, her breath catching in her throat.

And then she saw it. Hidden behind the stone pillars, tucked away in the alcoves—wildfire. Casks of it, stacked and waiting, glinting faintly in the low light. The green shimmer of death.

Her eyes widened in horror, and she opened her mouth to scream a warning, but it was too late.

The arrow came first—a single flaming arrow that cut through the air with a hiss, loosed by one of Wisdom Rossart’s men from the far end of the hall. It struck the nearest cask of wildfire, and for a split second, time seemed to freeze.

Then the world exploded.

The wildfire erupted in a brilliant blaze of green flame, the cask detonating with a force that sent a wave of heat and fire cascading across the hall. The explosion set off a chain reaction, and one by one, the other caches hidden throughout the room ignited. The once-grand hall was transformed into a living inferno, the flames licking up the walls and across the tables, consuming everything in their path.

Screams filled the air as nobles and knights scrambled to flee, their silks and finery catching fire as the green flames spread with terrifying speed. Tables overturned, goblets shattered, and chaos reigned as the court dissolved into panic. The smell of burning flesh and smoke filled the air, thick and suffocating.

Aerys stood at the high table, his wild laughter echoing through the hall as he watched the devastation unfold. “Burn them all!” he cried, his voice rising above the cacophony of screams and flames. “Burn them all!”

You remained seated, a strange calm settling over you as the chaos swirled around you. The heat of the wildfire licked at your skin, but you did not flinch. You lifted your goblet of wine to your lips once more, but the liquid was still tasteless as ever.

Rhaegar, his face pale with horror, grabbed your arm, trying to pull you from your seat. “Y/N, we need to go!” he shouted over the roar of the flames, his eyes wide with panic. “The hall is burning—everyone is burning!”

But you refused to move, your gaze fixed on the flames as they consumed the hall, as they devoured the faces of the guilty and the innocent alike. “No,” you whispered, your voice eerily calm. “I want to watch.”

Rhaegar’s grip tightened, his voice frantic. “You have to move! This is madness!”

You turned to him, your eyes filled with a cold, unyielding determination. “It doesn’t matter anymore, Rhaegar. Don’t you see? It was never about who was guilty or innocent. They’re all guilty now. They all deserve this.”

Rhaegar stared at you, his heart breaking as he realized how far you had fallen into the depths of your grief and rage. “This isn’t justice,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “This is destruction.”

You smiled, a soft, bitter smile. “Sometimes, destruction is the only answer.”

Rhaegar’s hand fell away from your arm, and he took a step back, his expression stricken. The flames continued to rise around you, consuming the hall, but you remained seated, watching as the traitors, the schemers, the guilty all burned before you. It no longer mattered who had killed your son or who had sought to kill you.

They were all guilty now. And they would all burn for it.

Cersei’s world had become a nightmare. The roar of the flames filled her ears, deafening and relentless, as green wildfire consumed everything around her. Her once-beautiful gown now hung in tatters, singed and blackened from the heat. Smoke stung her eyes, her lungs burned with every breath, and all she could hear were the screams—the screams of those dying around her, the wails of terror as they tried in vain to escape the inferno.

She staggered through the hall, her heart pounding in her chest as she searched for her children, her golden-haired babes, but the flames had already devoured everything. Her son had been next to her, pulling at her sleeve only moments ago, but now... now he was gone. Panic gripped her, cold and fierce, as she called out their names, her voice hoarse and ragged. “Joffrey! Myrcella! Tommen!”

There was no answer. Only fire. Only death.

The flames leaped higher, hungry and unstoppable, swallowing the tables and tapestries, the banners of the great houses, as though the gods themselves had unleashed their fury upon the court. In the center of it all, at the high table, King Aerys stood with his arms raised, laughing maniacally, his voice rising above the chaos. “Burn them all! Burn them all!” His eyes gleamed with madness, the light of the wildfire reflected in their violet depths, and he reveled in the carnage, his joy as twisted as the flames themselves.

Cersei’s gaze swept to the high table, and there, amidst the wreckage and ruin, she saw her. The Targaryen princess, seated calmly as though nothing was amiss, a goblet of wine in her hand, her expression serene. She looked untouched by the flames, as if the destruction around her was nothing more than an afterthought. The faintest of smiles played on her lips as she watched the hall burn, the madness in her eyes mirroring her father’s.

But it was Rhaegar’s face that sent a chill through Cersei’s blood. He stood beside his sister-wife, his expression one of sheer horror, his eyes wide and disbelieving. He did not move, did not try to flee, even though the flames raged all around him. His hand hovered near her, as though he was still tethered to her, bound by a devotion that transcended even the madness unfolding before them. He had always been devoted to her, to his dragon. Even now, as everything they had built turned to ash, he could not leave her side.

Cersei’s heart twisted in fury, in despair. Everything she had wanted—everything she had dreamed of—had been stolen from her. Rhaegar, the crown, the power. And now, the children she had borne for Robert—Jamie—those golden-haired innocents who had nothing to do with this madness, were gone too, swallowed by the flames this woman had unleashed.

Her hatred surged, white-hot and blinding, as she staggered forward, her voice cracking with rage. “You!” she screamed, her eyes wild, her hands trembling as she pointed toward the Targaryen princess. “This is your doing! You... you bitch!”

Cersei’s curses echoed through the hall, but Y/N did not flinch. She merely turned her head slightly, her gaze locking with Cersei’s, as if the flames and the screams meant nothing to her. That faint, bitter smile remained on her lips, and she took another slow sip of her wine, unbothered.

“Burn in hell!” Cersei shrieked, her voice raw with grief and fury. “Burn with the rest of them! You—”

Her words were cut off by a deafening roar as another explosion ripped through the hall, the ground beneath her feet trembling with the force of it. The fire surged forward, a wall of green flame that tore through the remaining survivors, devouring everything in its path. Cersei’s world became a blur of heat and smoke, the taste of ash thick on her tongue.

She barely had time to scream before the wildfire found her. The flames engulfed her in an instant, searing her skin, melting the world around her into an endless sea of agony. Her last thought, before the darkness swallowed her, was of Rhaegar’s face—his horror, his devotion—and the serene, untouchable calm of the woman who had destroyed them all.

And then Cersei was gone, swallowed whole by the fire she had cursed.

Jaime raced through the courtyard, his breath ragged, heart pounding in his chest. The smoke billowed into the night sky, a plume of green flame flickering at its heart, the glow so unnatural it seemed to come from the very depths of hell. Screams echoed from within the great hall, carried on the wind like the wails of the damned. He could hear them, high-pitched, desperate, the sound of agony that could not be silenced by stone walls or iron gates.

Ser Gerold Hightower stood like a sentinel before the grand doors, his face set in a grim mask. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard held his ground, one hand resting on the hilt of his sword, the other outstretched as if to bar Jaime’s path. Jaime skidded to a halt before him, panic flashing in his eyes.

"Let me in," Jaime gasped, trying to shove past him, his eyes wide with fear. "Ser Gerold, let me through! My sister—"

Gerold shook his head, his voice low and steady, but there was no comfort in it. "No one can enter, Ser Jaime. It’s too late."

Jaime’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white. "You can’t keep me out! The king—my sister—she’s in there!"

Ser Gerold’s expression remained impassive, but the deep lines etched into his face seemed to deepen. "The king gave his orders. No one is to enter until the screams stop."

The screams. Jaime’s blood ran cold at the words. He glanced toward the doors, his heart hammering against his ribs. The screams were everywhere, filling the air, filling his ears, echoing through his skull. And then, just as Gerold had said, they began to fade. One by one, they were snuffed out, like the last gasps of life. And then, finally—silence.

The only sound that remained was the faint crackle of flames and a soft, chilling laughter drifting on the wind. King Aerys’s laughter.

Gerold stepped aside, and without another word, Jaime pushed past him, his hand trembling as it gripped the hilt of his sword. He shoved open the doors, the heavy wood groaning on its hinges, and stepped into a nightmare.

The hall was a blackened ruin. The once-grand tapestries were ash, the banners of noble houses curled into smoldering remnants, their sigils erased from existence. The long tables were overturned, charred and broken, and the bodies—gods, the bodies—were scattered like kindling, some burned beyond recognition, others twisted and frozen in grotesque shapes, caught in their last moments of agony.

The smell of burning flesh hit Jaime like a physical blow, turning his stomach. He forced himself to keep walking, stepping over the charred remains of courtiers and knights alike. He couldn’t find her—couldn’t see Cersei. His heart seized with terror, his eyes scanning the destruction for any sign of golden hair, but all he saw was ruin. The fire had devoured everything, leaving nothing but blackened bones and scorched memories.

At the center of it all, seated as though she were holding court, was the Targaryen princess. She sat still, her face serene, a goblet of wine in her hand, though it had long since emptied. The crown of blue roses Rhaegar had placed on her head earlier that evening still sat delicately upon her brow, untouched by the carnage around her. She didn’t look at the destruction, didn’t flinch from the horrors she had unleashed. Her expression was calm, almost peaceful.

Beside her stood Rhaegar, his face ashen, every line etched with shock and sorrow. His wide, disbelieving eyes flickered between the ruin and the woman at his side, as though he could not fathom how she, the woman he loved, could remain so untouched by the destruction that engulfed them just moments ago. And yet, he did not move away; his hand still hovered near her, torn between reaching out and retreating, his devotion unwavering even in the face of this incomprehensible madness.

And there, sitting on his twisted throne, was King Aerys, his laughter now reduced to a soft, satisfied chuckle, his mad eyes gleaming with the joy of destruction. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest of his chair, as if he were composing some cruel melody to accompany the charred remains of his court.

Jaime stood frozen, unable to move, his mind struggling to comprehend the scale of the devastation. He couldn’t see Cersei. He couldn’t see her, but he knew—deep down, he knew—she was gone. She, and everyone else who had been in this hall, were now nothing more than ashes. Burned whole or reduced to the point of no recognition. The golden-haired children, the proud lords, the scheming ladies—all were gone, consumed by the fire that had claimed the night.

The hall was silent now, save for the faint hiss of dying flames. So different from the water that devoured the House Reyne in its time of reckoning by his House. Jaime’s mind flashed back to the stories he had heard of Castamere, how the rains had washed away the blood and bone, how nothing had remained but silence and ruin. Now, here at Harrenhal, it was the same. But this time the fire had taken everything.

And in the center of it, the Targaryens sat, untouched, unscathed by the inferno they had unleashed.

Jaime took a step forward, his voice hoarse, barely a whisper. “Cersei… Father…”

No one answered. Only the flicker of flames greeted him.

His gaze flicked to Y/N, still seated in her chair, her eyes distant, as if she had found peace amidst the destruction. Rhaegar turned his head, his eyes meeting Jaime’s, but the prince said nothing. There was nothing to say. Jaime’s hand clenched into a fist, the weight of his failure crashing down on him. He hadn’t been able to save his sister. He hadn’t even been able to reach her.

The silence pressed down on him, heavy and suffocating. The reign of the lions had ended, just as the rains had ended the Reynes. And now, the dragons had written their own song, with fire and blood.

[hellfire--cult]

- Stop worrying and do it 💧

steve harrington x reader

+18 smut, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, soft steve to softdom steve, fluff

You finally get steve to be all yours after two successful dates... but he is a bit worried about the size of... his hands.

i couldn't help myself after the new pictures of joe keery with his hands out. mother fucker has king kong digits.

anyways enjoy.

You were a patient person. You really were, but you wanted to jump Steve’s bones after matching with him on Tinder. He was so perfect and good-looking, and when the two of you went on the first date? He was such a gentleman, and it only made him even hotter. You were certain he was not into doing stuff on the first date except for a kiss.

The kiss was full of passion, and tenderness, and you wanted to press yourself against him, climb over the console in order to straddle him. He had taken you home, and he was the one to make a move first, but you had to hold yourself back and try not to seem desperate.

Even if you were.

Now on the second date, the food was amazing, his soft kisses while outside the restaurant were enough to ignite a fire in you that you never felt before. The heat between your legs became too great, feeling the stickiness in your underwear. You whispered to him to take you home and he completely understood the double meaning of it.

The two of you had gotten to your home, kissing through the doorway, taking each other’s clothes off as you walked towards your room, which you tidied up just in case this were to happen, hopefully. His tongue swirled inside your mouth as moans escaped your lips when his impatient hands ran under your shirt, gracing your skin. 

Your eyes almost opened in surprise when you felt his fingers skillfully, and in one move, snapped your bra open. A gasp escaped your lips while a chuckle escaped his and into your mouth. Your hands ran through his hair as you pulled him closer and closer to you, body flushing on his, as you kept moving towards the bed. 

You pulled away, breathing heavily, and turned him around in order to push him onto your bed, surprising him but a chuckle escaped his lips, pushing himself deeper onto the bed, only to choke up as you pulled your shirt and bra off in one move. He was trying to keep his composure but lost it when you got on all fours to crawl over him with a grin on your face, biting your bottom lip.

His pants were straining him, painfully so, and he moved quickly to at least take his shirt off so you weren’t the only one half-dressed here, ever the gentleman. Your eyes sparkled with lust, as you inspected his chest. Hair in the right amount, and pecs slightly formed that expanded whenever he breathed out. You licked your lips as you straddled him as he sat up to wrap his arms around you, bringing his mouth to yours again.

Your hips started rolling onto his bulge, making him moan in between the kiss, and you only whimpered whenever the friction of his jeans rubbed against your core, and it was incredible you could feel him even through your own pair of jeans. It was the right amount of pressure against your clit, and you knew you were soaking through all the fabric that was covering you.

Your lips moved with his, hands tangling with eachother’s, desperately ripping one another’s clothes off. You both needed to see eachother’s bodies, see what they were about to taste. You bit your lips when he hovered over you, already licking and sucking onto your right nipple as he rubbed himself against your clothed pussy. 

He was leaking precum and probably staining his boxers, but he couldn’t care less at this point, he needed to be inside of you. He didn’t want to seem like he was there for only this, because he really liked you. You were funny, charming, freaky, and you had your own spark. He wanted to know more about you, crazy to think that after just two dates, you had caught his attention. A lot.

You weren’t far behind, you liked Steve. He had opened doors for you, he didn’t let you pay on the first date, but accepted the split check in this one, letting you feel independent of some sort. He didn’t make you feel like you needed a man to pay everything for you, or do everything, and you were grateful for that. He wasn’t trying too much, but he was doing just right for you.

And he was so handsome. Oh, that was the first thing you noticed in the Tinder pictures. How is this man single you thought at that time. You were drawn to everything, his eyes, his hair, his lips, his fucking freckles, his clothing style, and in the picture where he played his guitar… his hands.

Those hands that are roaming all over your body now, hands that are manly, big, with veins all over, and you salivated everytime you saw when the glass was engulfed by his fingers. You wanted him so bad, so you couldn’t wait for one more date, and it seems he couldn’t either.

You felt him move, letting your nippled go with a pop, so he could be hovering over you but on the side so he could run his hand downwards towards your clothed cunt. You bit your lip with excitement and anticipation and you jerked when you felt him rub onto your clit, slow and in small circles. 

“You’re so wet already, fucking hell…” You heard his mumble, almost a grunt, making you smile in your bliss as he kept doing small circles against you, making your hips move upwards into his touch for more, but he was teasing you so it seemed, not doing what you wanted.

“Stevie~” You purred out in warning that you didn’t want to be teased, you were too turned on right now to be played with. He chuckled at your eagerness, giving a soft kiss on your neck so he could move to take your underwear off, sighing with bliss as he looked at your pussy.

If it weren’t for the fact his dick was killing him right now from how hard it was, he would have eaten you out with no hesitation, because that is the prettiest cunt he’s ever seen in his life. He will have to save it for next time, hopefully there is a next time. He returned to his previous position, kissing your neck as he returned to rub circles on your clit, a little faster than before, just a little.

You needed more, you wanted those fingers inside of you, but when you raised your hips for more he backed up. You were a patient person… you had to remind yourself you are patient. You moaned his name in order to catch his attention and he only mumbled on your neck as he kept sucking on it.

“Hmm? What do you need baby?”

“F-Fingers– Fingers– Inside please…” And you could feel him tense up a bit, his movement stopping for just a second before he started again. It felt good, it was feeling good, but why isn’t he doing more? You needed more because your body was getting hotter and hotter and what he was doing was not enough. “S-Steve–”

“Yeah?” He mumbled on your skin again, and you raised your hips towards his hand only for him to move with your hips and not against it. You plopped on the bed with a whine, making him stop and raise his head in order to look at you. “What’s–”

“Get your fingers inside of me!” 

You couldn’t be any more blunt. You were afraid you were going to have to spell it out to him, but you were frustrated and needy and what you’ve been wanting him to do since you saw his Tinder profile, he isn’t doing. You saw how his body tensed, pulling his hand away from in between your legs and you groaned in displeasure at that.

“I um…” You could see he was nervous, making you have a little bit more empathy for the guy, only for your eyes to widen, your hands covering your mouth in shock.

“Oh my god, are you a virgin? Oh, fuck, shit, I didn’t– I didn’t know–” At your rambling, Steve only laughed, shaking his head, letting your nerves calm down a little bit more.

“I am not, sweetheart, don’t worry… It’s just… the last girl I’ve been with told me that–” He showed his large hand to you, the one that had been touching you before and you felt your mouth salivate again. “My fingers hurt her.”

Your eyes snapped open in surprise and you looked at him. What?

“I’m sorry… what?” You were surprised, to say the least, because if she claimed his hands are big– “What about your dick? Didn’t that hurt her?”

“Shit, you are straightforward.” He chuckled at that and shook his head. “I didn’t get to have sex with her, but honestly it might have made me a twinge, a smudge, a bit conscious.”

You looked at his hand again and you wanted to prove to him how much you wanted those fingers inside of you. That girl probably was a tight ass making her a prude, because who wouldn’t want these fingers? You bit your lip and grabbed his hand, taking your tongue out in order to drag it base to top on his index and middle finger.

His eyes widened at your action, his dick kicking up again in his boxers and you felt the twitch because it was pressed onto your thigh, making you chuckle as your eyes found his.

“I want these fingers inside of me. Make me cum with your fingers, please Stevie~?”

And oh shit, he was going to comply. He took the opportunity to introduce his fingers slowly into your mouth, and you took them with a smile on your face. He was lubricating them with your saliva as he pumped them in and out of your mouth. He groaned as you moaned and the vibrations were sent to his digits.

He pulled them out of your mouth and leaned down to press a hot kiss on your lips, pulling away with his forehead against yours, his breath hitting your face as he talked.

“Tell me if it hurts.” You nodded at his command, your belly burning with need again as your hips looked for friction. He guided his hand downwards and he coated his middle and index fingers with your slick, going up and down in between your folds. He wanted more lubrication, just in case.

He licked his lips as he kept staring at you to see your facial movements just to make sure you weren’t lying. He slowly started getting his middle finger inside of you, and your mouth fell into a soundless moan. 

One finger, and it was a nice lovely stretch. It was so good, you couldn’t even imagine how two would feel like, what three could possibly make you do. You wanted him to move faster and you moved your hips against his hand, and finally, he pushed forward instead of backwards like before. 

He started pumping his single digit as your moans started having some sound, and he was deep, oh he was so deep. You smiled in bliss at the sensation and your hips started going in sync with his thrusts. He groaned at the squelching sounds, knowing he made you so wet that it was provoking it to happen. 

“It’s so good Steve, oh god, more, more–” Steve bit his lip as he joined his index finger to the mix and your eyes widened at the different stretch. It was fucking delicious. Your belly was burning in need and your moans began to feel choked as he went deeper and deeper with his new finger.

His tempo increased, the squelching now becoming obscene as your back arched upwards, letting him have free access to your nipple. He leaned to take it into his mouth, his teeth biting on it and pulling and well, that was new. He didn’t do that before and you needed him to do it again.

You moaned his name loudly as he bit and pulled again, feeling his fingers going in and out of you as your hips met his thrusts, only to then throw your head back as you cried out in ecstasy. He had curled his fingers and he was hitting your G-Spot perfectly. No person has ever made you feel the way this man is doing right now. He was taking care of you. No one ever cared to do so before.

You could hear him chuckle as your legs trembled, your juices coming out already from how wet you were as you breathed moans out of your lips, his name being in a mumbled mess of noises.

“You like that sweetheart?” You nodded dumbly and your eyes widened when he pressed his hand roughly against you, making his fingers go way deeper than before, and he stayed there, wiggling the first knuckle inside of you. “I asked you something baby.”

Oh… if you couldn’t be more hooked on this guy, you definitely were now.

“It feel– feels good– So good–” You managed to choke out and the pressure left you, but his fingers kept pumping inside of you, the bed of his palm pressing every so often against your clit, causing the soft touch to send shivers and electricity all over your body.

The coil in your belly started to turn, and your legs and body began to shake. You smiled in between your moans as you were finally reaching your climax, your first climax.

“You close darling?” You nodded dumbly at that, muttering a small ‘uh-huh’ and it was there, it was making your belly shrink, your pussy pulse, and then– he stopped. Everything. You opened your eyes alarmingly and you looked at him in question.

“W-Why? I was– I was so close Steve!” You whined in frustration as you tried to move your hips in order to get friction once more, only for your chin to be grabbed roughly so you could look at him again. 

“I have one goal now. And I will reach it, so hold it in honey.”

You didn’t know why he was doing this, not only he edged you this time, but again, and again, and you had tears in your eyes already, and at one point he had changed hands and he was still skilled with his non-dominant one. Your body was aching from all the trembles he imposed on you, and you were sure you weren’t going to be able to handle anymore of it. 

“Please– Please Steve, let me cum, let me cum, please!” You were begging him, almost crying pathetically and he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers rested inside of you, palm resting on your clit as he rubbed it on you, making you moan from the feeling.

“I think you’re ready for that.” And he returned to thrusting his fingers in and out of you, curling upwards and it felt so sore. Everything was overstimulated, your clit, your pussy, your insides, absolutely everything, but he said you would get to cum now, so you were eagerly enjoying his ministrations.

Only to then feel a coil in your belly again, but this time it was a very different one. It felt almost painful, on your belly and going downwards. It felt very weird, something you hadn’t experienced before, but maybe it was because you were sore? Or the edging? But–

“S-Steve, something weird– Something– Oh god…” Your mind was blurry suddenly, his tempo increased at a speed he hadn’t done all night, saving it for last. He rubbed onto your G-Spot repeatedly making your tears fall from your eyes as moans escaped your throat as well as whimpers and cries of his name.

“Yeah? Then fucking cum for me baby, it’s gonna feel so good, cum…” And fuck, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t speak, but it felt so powerful, almost as if you were going to pass out.

“Steve– I feel like I’m gonna–” You can’t finish the sentence, too embarrassed to do so, but it felt as if you were going to pee yourself. He only smirked at that, knowing what was going to happen, and he only did this once in his life, and since you were so eager for his fingers, he might as well take the chance to engrain himself in your mind.

“Let go. Let fucking go.” 

And your eyes widened as your hips went upwards, rising completely from the bed, your mouth open but you didn’t even know if moans were coming out at all. You were seeing white, just complete white as your belly screamed and turned and your cunt gushed your juices out in big spurts. The sounds were not wet, not even a squelch, just purely and pornographically wet.

It felt never-ending as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, helping you ride it out, and finally, you plopped back down on the bed, panting heavily as your eyelids drooped, exhausted but so blissful. You were so light at the moment, like a feather, or a cloud. You felt something on your cheek, and Steve was kissing you, not caring for the sweat all over your face.

“You with me angel?” You heard him with a chuckle and you gave out a breathless giggle, nodding as your chest went up and down.

“Y-Yeah… fuck–” You opened your eyes a little bit more and you finally felt as if your hips were on wet sheets. You looked down and your eyes widened slightly and you looked at Steve who had a proud smile on his face. “Holy fucking shit…”

“You… sure you’re okay?” His soft dominant persona faltered slightly in order to check on you. Your heart was beating wildly thanks to all the action you just received.

“I never squirted before… Holy fuck Steve…” You chuckled again and he followed you soon after, leaning down to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“If you’re too tired, we can continue some other day–” At those words, you sat up, not caring for how wobbly you felt because of how much that orgasm took a toll on you, and you immediately turned to look at him and throw a leg on each side of his hips, straddling him.

“Oh no… If your fingers do that… I wanna know what your cock can do.” 

And Steve only smiled. He is more than happy to comply…

Ever the gentleman.

hope you enjoyed, keery's hands are ginormous

[thebadboyfanclub]

Together As One (Daemon x Reader)

So this is more a twisted love type of hype, I hope you guys like the way I portrayed this request cause I wanted to give it more of a dark edge since Daemon is definitely a gray character. Hope you enjoy!

Mothers love their children, everyone could agree upon the unconditional love mothers held for their kind with no doubt in their hearts, songs, poems, plays, and any type of art one can think of have attempted to portray such devotion. None, however, could predict that some mothers have a certain type of fear for their child, like some whisper in the back of their heads warning them about the little glimpse in their eyes that was not like the stars but more of a scorching fire threading to burn everything.

That was the exact feeling Rhaenys had for her beloved daughter, the twin sister of Laenor, it would often baffle her how her husband could not see what was clearly there, (y/n) was always in competition with everyone about everything, the finest clothes belonged to her, she had to ride a dragon first, learn Valyrian faster.

Whilst Rhaenys prayed for her daughter's thirst to settle, the others praised her for her bravery, her determination, and her intellect, something that made (y/n) yearn for more.

“I would like to raise a toast to my dear brother, a married man to our future queen, may your wedlock be blessed with numerous children and a road paved with nothing but joy and success, Prince Daemon, hopefully you are next”

(Y/n) stood with a smile of triumph dancing on her lips before she raised her cup to gently take a sip, as she sat down Daemon's eyes followed her, he was well aware of her game, though he seemed unfazed and almost amused by her comment the truth laid somewhere deeper than the surface, not a single soul in this room would have been able to guess that the delighted twin of now future king consort was playing a game of cat and mouse with none other than prince daemon behind closed doors.

(Y/n) had been relentless in her ways to seduce Daemon, sneaking out at all hours of the night, sending people after him so she could know his whereabouts just so she could magically appear, the combination of sweet wine and her alluring voice was enough for Daemon to stumble and fall right on top of her, taking her for a ride to the addictive roads of lust.

She was stunning, flawless, a true Targaryen that screamed opulence and elegance with a face sculpted by the gods, the common folk would gush over the “oceans Angel” a nickname given by the realm for her angelic features, how would they know how dark her mind could get in order to make everyone yield before her?

-

“Mother”

“Dearest, how are you on this fine morrow?”

“I am well, the little one finally decided to let me get some rest”

“When I was pregnant with you I remember thinking you would kick your way out of my belly, the Apple does not fall far from the tree”

(Y/n)s daughter, Leora, leaned as much as she could to kiss her mother's cheek before she sat down next to her to break her fast, queen Alicent had already taken her seat along with her daughter Heleana and (y/n)s other son Elion, Alicent and (y/n) enjoyed each others presence, a mutual bond based on respect had been build over the years that was sealed by marrying Leora with Aegon and Elion with Heleana.

“The maester said you should drink more orange juice, it will help with the fatigue”

“As well as eat more meat, pregnancy is no easy task, you must be as strong as ever”

Alicent chimed, the birth of her second grandchild was one of the most important events, Alicent adored her first grandchild, beautiful Hael, a strong boy who was just now starting to learn how to walk, still, he had everyone wrapped around his finger.

“I appreciate your concerns but I am fine, healthy as a horse”

“It wouldn’t hurt, let us not risk it dearest”

“I thought once I get older I wouldn’t have to listen to my mother”

“Well I am sorry but that will never happen, drink”

(Y/n) had stepped up and appeared as the perfect mother, loving, kind, and caring, she did love her children, however, what she loved most was the things they could do for her, her firstborn daughter was now the wife of the king first born son, and her son was a strong, skill full knight that served the realm and came back in triumph, how could she not adore her perfect creations?

“How is the king?”

“I am afraid his health is decreasing, the maesters advise him to remain abed for the day”

“Rhaenyra will be questioned, he won’t sit this one out I am afraid”

“Ugh the precious Rhaenyra, I wish I could stay in my chambers until those god-forsaken days pass”

(Y/n)s smile was wiped from her face and in an instant it was replaced with an angry scowl, in a split second her hand had grasped her daughter, Leoras' eyes went wide with fear when they met the angry hues of her mothers.

“You mustn’t speak in such a way, I’ve taught you better”

Leora only nodded frantically, (y/n) had her own opinions over Rhaenyra, she however, knew better than to voice them, not even in such a secluded area of the palace, (y/n)s hold turned from forceful to a caress before she directed her eyes back to her friend and queen Alicent.

“Besides, the king will do as he wishes and if the gods bless him with the strength to stand he should be there, isn’t it right Alicent?”

“I couldn’t have phrased it better, my dear”

-

(Y/n) and Alicent were each other's shadows, one compelled the other and in the end one way or the other the result was one of their favor, (y/n) was disciplined and had mastered the act of a gracious and lovely princess, Alicent was strict and slipped under everyone’s nose as she cloaked herself with the act of a pious queen, the two of them had years up on the horse of being able to maneuver their way around the kingdom so the men would not suspect a damn thing.

Viserys had seemed to get worst which made him unable to attend even when Daemon and (y/n) went to his room to assist him, the king could not even sit up let alone walk, Daemon was disheartened, thankfully for him his dutiful and beautiful wife let him rest on her shoulder and like a soothing salve her encouraging words went over his wound of his beloved older brother nearing his end.

“My Love”

“(Y/n)? What- what has happened?”

“I apologize for waking you up my dear, it is your brother”

“Viserys? What about- no”

“My dear husband, you must be strong, I am so sorry”

(Y/n) grasped Daemon's hands tightly before she brought them up to her lips to kiss his knuckles, of course, she was one of the first to know, Alicent had rushed to her chamber and delivered the news herself, she had waited patiently as the king took his last breath, Alicent told no one, not even the maester, (y/n) had to know before anyone.

“Viserys”

Daemon had been taken over by his thoughts, they’ve always had their differences but at the end of the day, they shared the same mother and father, a bond that could never be broken, no matter how many times Daemon has run off he always ended up by Viserys side.

“My love, I understand that this is too much for you, however, we must prepare our daughter”

“What does Elora have to do with this?”

“She is to be queen, she needs her father”

“Queen? Have you gone mad?”

(Y/n) bit her bottom lip in combination with her head tilting to the side, as if nothing but a mere candle lit her face Daemon could still identify the features that he so adored but now he could not wrap his head around what was his wife suggesting.

“My lord husband, King Viserys has left us, it is only natural for his son to succeed him”

“It is expected for his firstborn, Rhaenyra, to do so, not Aegon”

“Where is the princess? But in a place where she could have visited if she wished, when has she even attempted to come and visit her beloved father who was in agony all these years? She only came when her privilege was at risk and then blamed Alicent who has served by the king's side for his illness”

“This is not a matter to discuss”

“But it is, the gods know I loved Viserys and he had been good to me, but let us not forget he killed his first wife in his desperate attempt for a male heir, he remarried and Alicent gave him an heir and a spare and still it was not good enough, he passed by you and his sons to bury his guilt by calling Rhaenyra the heir, it wasn’t because he trusted her or because he saw something in her, he passed the title on to her because he did not trust you and then because he wanted to wash the blood of queen Aemmas from his hands”

Silence fell upon them, (y/n) pulled away from her husband and headed towards the door, as his hand rested upon the handle she turned her head back to lord husband who was visibly shaken, (y/n) might appear disheartened but she could detect that her monologue had started to creep on to Daemons heart.

“I love you with all my heart, that is why I shall leave you to grieve, if you wish to run to her I will…. Understand, it is not like I ever doubted the unconditional love you have for the realm delight, now might be your chance to pursue it”

Her tone was drowning in sorrow leaving Daemon with an unwavering sense of guilt in a dark room as his wife had disappeared to place her hand over a war of fire and blood, (y/n) was correct, Daemon did love Rhaenyra, still, he did not place his flame for her over what he had built with his wife over the years.

(Y/n) walked away with a smile of triumph, she had done her part flawlessly and now she was certain that Daemon would be by her side before the crown was placed on Aegons head, however, she did not have time to waste, Alicent and (y/n) were the ones to wake the new king and queen, preparing them for what they had destined to be.

“You may enter”

“Prince Daemon is asking to see his daughter and wife, alone”

(Y/n) stopped brushing her daughter's head, carefully placing the golden brush down before she looked down at her daughter who nodded in approval.

“Let him in, do not allow anyone to disturb us”

“Right away”

The girl curtsied as quickly as possible before she disappeared only to be replaced by none other than Daemon. (Y/n) took a sharp inhale through her nose once he entered the room, preparing herself for a mental battle, surprisingly when her eyes scanned for his she was met with a certain lightness, an ease to him that caught her by a pleasant surprise.

Instinctively a small smile played on her lips, her Daemon was dressed in his black attire, leather suited him, and his hair was pulled away from his face the way she always told him to do it.

(Y/n) was not made of stone, she might play like she is though her heart skipped a beat every time she was near her lord husband, Daemon was one of the very few people that (y/n) would throw herself in the fire, even though their love felt like the flames licked her back, that sweet pain of admiration and devotion that the poets would sing and the common folk would go mad.

“My dearest loves”

Daemon declared, that their daughter rose from her chair and ran to her father, she was always the one known to succumb to emotions and this time (y/n) could not scold her over it, Leora was her father's daughter, (y/n) might not have spoken over the matter only to allow the young girl the solidarity of her feelings, inside Leora was always waiting for her father to walk through this door.

“You look beautiful, a perfect gown for the queen”

“Father I-“

“Before I handed you over to Aegon I made you a promise, do you remember it?”

“I will do anything to see you happy”

“I will put myself through war if you tell me that this is what you want, all you have to do is say it”

Daemon was no fool, he was certain that the second that crown graced his daughter's head a war would nip their heels, Rhaenyra would not go down without a fight and that meant that Daemon would have to face her in battle, a battle he was willing to put for his lovely Leora.

“I want to be queen, I want Aegon to be our king”

“Very well, I wish you a fruitful reign, may the Gods smile down upon you”

‘May the Gods have mercy on us’ he thought, with a smile he brushed away those dark thoughts only to place a kiss on his daughter's forehead, a small part of him screamed that this was the right thing, his brother never thought he was good enough, now his brother was on the ground and his daughter was crowned queen and would carry on the legacy of the Targaryen name.

“Go on now, I want to have a word with your mother”

“I will be waiting for you”

Leora informed them before she gave them the privacy Daemon desired. (Y/n) stood as still as a statue, her heart pounding on her chest as her throat grew dry and scratchy, she was the master of composure up until now, faced with the only person who could make her waver.

“My beautiful, sweet lady wife, you spoke harshly last night”

“I spoke nothing but the truth”

She threw back in a cold tone. Daemon only smirked as he started to approach her, she did not dare to move, (y/n) was comforted by his light-hearted manner though there was an underlying mischief, Daemon was playing something, and (y/n) was left trying to catch up before it is too late.

Daemon stood before her, his arm finding her forearms and giving them a gentle squeeze, his eyes gazing back at hers with a glimmer that (y/n) had grown to yearn for, she despised the fact that she had to manipulate him like this, she was left with no other choice but to do this, a side of hers cursed the day Rhaenyras and Daemons fates met, this would have been so much easier had (y/n) been the only women Daemon loved.

“You are so bright, I am almost disappointed that you didn’t foresee this”

“The war?”

“No, me, you think I have not caught wind of all the scheming against Rhaenyra? The upbringing of my daughter to become the wife of my brother's firstborn son, putting our son on the sea the minute he was born to have better knowledge of anything driftmark related to gain the favor of your father, every step you so amazingly calculated with Alicent so you can get our family here”

“You have gone mad”

“I saw behind the facade and that makes you nervous, I was there with you every step of the way you mustn’t be frightened, I let you do all this for only one reason”

“Alright, let us entertain this absurd claim of yours, what is the reason?”

“Because I love you”

(Y/n) mouth slightly parted in shock, Daemon had professed his love for her on multiple occasions but the weight on this one was different, he had pulled what she thought was the perfect cover, leaving her bare in front of him, uncovering her thirst that she had kept away from everyone.

“I love you so much that I will let my daughter become the target on Rhaenyras mind, I will go against the woman that you think threatens your position in my heart, I will put myself in the sword before I let her even get one strand of your hair because you and our daughter want this”

“And you don’t? You always held a grudge over the fact that Viserys never declared you as his heir”

“My brother is dead now and because of you our child wishes to be a queen, I picked you as my second wife because I saw your strength, your determination, you need to come on top, that is the Targaryen fire through and through”

“You truly mean all this?”

“You are my lady wife, you gave me a home, now it is time to show the realm that we are the rightful heirs of the throne, together as one”

(Y/n) reached daemons lips for a passionate kiss, his hands slid down to her waist and pulled her as close as humanly possible, sharing this moment meant everything to (y/n), she had him devotedly by her side, he saw her true nature and walked straight into her fire, surrendering in her and even shielding her and her family.

“Let us find out daughter, I want us to be the ones to place the crown on her head”

“I wouldn’t dare let anyone else have that honor”

Requests are open!

[ginnsbaker]

fic: if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) (1/?)

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat. Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation.

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.” Or the one where you fall in love with the widow of an ex-lover you never knew was married.

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader | Word count for this part: 6k+ | Warnings: None for now | A/N: I wrote about 30k words of the Succession Wanda but hit a wall in terms of plot progression. So that's on hold. Allow me to apologize with this two-shot. P.S. I've always wanted to write for Leigh, and this idea came out of nowhere. Loosely based on canon.

Masterlist | Next Part

-

Leigh wakes up in a bed that’s not hers for the first time in months, and the unfamiliar scent of freshly cut grass and cedarwood almost immediately overwhelms her senses, suffocating her with its cloying sweetness.

“Jules?” she croaks out, her mind clawing its way through the fog. When it lifts a few seconds later, Leigh realizes where she is and what she’s done.

And how she’s very, very naked underneath the sheets. 

The person lying next to her in the bed starts to move. Right away, she knows it's not her sister, unless she's somehow caught up in a prank she doesn't find amusing at all. And so, she braces herself for her dead husband’s brother's voice to shatter the silence.

But it never comes. Instead, an arm drapes itself across her stomach, pulling her towards warmth. Leigh gets the sudden urge to vomit, except she skipped dinner and there isn’t anything to bring up. Last night, in a desperate attempt to fill the void left by Matt's absence, she had reached out to someone she shouldn't have. Someone Leigh didn’t even like to begin with. A knot tightens further in her stomach as she considers what her husband’s ghost would think. 

Would he approve? Would he feel betrayed or disgusted as she does?

Careful not to disturb Danny, who still sleeps soundly beside her, Leigh slips out of bed with the grace of a cat. She gathers her clothes from the floor and dresses herself with heavy limbs, each garment reminding her of how Danny had taken them off her body. 

As messed up as it sounds, Leigh can't help but draw parallels between him and Matt. They share the same blood, but there's not a single trait in Danny that triggers memories of Matt. With Danny, it's all about his own desires, his movements reflecting his wants. But with Matt, it's like he's always bending to Leigh’s will, submitting to her.

It tears Leigh’s heart anew. 

As she finishes dressing, Leigh glances around searching for her watch. She second-guesses whether she even wore it last night, the disarray of her thoughts mirrored in the disarray of the room. Her eyes scan the bedside table, the floor, and the dresser, but there's no sign of the timepiece.

A sudden sound from Danny startles her, and she freezes in place. She doesn't believe she can prevent herself from literally bolting out of the house if he so much as breathes her name. She’s rooted in her spot however, waiting for his breathing to steady, her heart pounding in her ears. Only when she's certain he's in a deep slumber does she release a pent-up breath, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. In that moment, she mentally curses herself once more, acutely aware of the mess she's created, before tiptoeing towards the bedroom door and abandoning the search for her watch altogether.

As she considers her options, she entertains the idea of escaping town altogether. Maybe if she leaves, she can avoid Danny for the coming days, possibly forever. Leigh wonders if she ever made Matt feel this trapped, inadvertently pushing him to leave in the only way he knew she could never follow.

-

Several days after ignoring Danny’s calls and attempts to talk to her, he retaliates by telling her the most absurd thing about his brother.

He tells Leigh she wasn’t the only one. There had been two others in the last year. 

And the last one, he fell for hard. Or at least that’s what Danny believes.

“I don’t believe you,” she says, her eyes beginning to sting a little. “If you think making me hate Matt would change my mind about us, then—”

“I’m not trying to manipulate you, Leigh,” Danny interrupts calmly, shaking his head. “I just believe you deserve to know the truth. Maybe it'll help you stop blaming yourself and move on.”

“It just seems a little too convenient that this 'truth' works in your favor to tarnish Matt's reputation, doesn't it?” Leigh points out with a humorless smile. She’s always thought the worst of Danny, but she never imagined he’d go as far as fabricating a story just to get her on his side.

“I understand your skepticism, I do. I couldn’t believe it at first either,” he says, his gaze dropping to the ground as if the transgression he’s confessing were his own, not Matt’s. “But think about it. Have you ever walked in on Matt just as he's ending a call? Noticed how he's suddenly started spending more time at work, consistently twice a week? And what about his sudden interest in going to the gym and being conscious about what he eats? These are all signs, Leigh.”

His words push her to think about it, even though she doesn't want to. Leigh starts to reflect on how Matt had stopped leaving his phone unattended during showers, how he had suddenly logged off his social media accounts from her laptop, or the noticeable enhancement of his physique—all juxtaposed against a lingering decrease in his appetite for intimacy with his wife.

“I…” Leigh hesitates, searching for a rebuttal but finding none. Then Danny gives her a look—one of pity and longing that makes her want to crawl out of her skin—and suddenly she finds herself vehemently denying all of it.

“I still don’t believe you,” she says, desperately clinging to the last shreds of the illusion she had crafted around her marriage.

Danny's expression remains unreadable and it drives her further up the wall. “Fine. Believe what you want, Leigh. I'm just trying to look out for you.”

Leigh's jaw tightens. “Regardless of what you say—whether it’s real or not—I know what I want, and it's not to be with you.”

He keeps up the stony facade, opting instead to pull a card out of his wallet and hand it to her. Leigh accepts the card, her fingers quivering, as a solitary tear finally breaks free and trails down her cheek.

Danny begins to reach out, intending to brush away her tear, but hesitates at the last moment, withdrawing his hand. 

“See for yourself. Goodbye, Leigh.”

-

Just two days later, Leigh finds herself in front of the small animal clinic you own, situated a short walk away from Beautiful Beast—the fitness studio her mom owns and where she works. 

Though the sun hangs low in the sky, she's been awake long before it began to rise. She waits for the receptionist to flip the sign from “Sorry, we’re closed” to “Come in, we’re open,” ignoring the curious glance directed her way when the receptionist notices she isn’t accompanied by a furry companion. With a determined smile on her lips, Leigh pushes open the door and steps into the clinic knowing she'll leave it with answers—whatever they might be.

The receptionist looks up from her computer, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern when she sees the look on Leigh's face. “Can I help you?” 

Leigh clears her throat, trying to steady her voice. She tells her she’s looking for you, her words coming out in a rush.

The receptionist furrows her brow. “Do you have an appointment?”

Leigh shakes her head, blinking rapidly as she comes up with an excuse. “No, it's... it's urgent,” she stammers. “I need to speak to her right away.”

The receptionist appears mildly annoyed, but it doesn’t faze Leigh in the slightest. “I'll check if she's available. Please take a seat,” she says.

Leigh nods mutely and sinks into one of the chairs. She clasps her hands together tightly in her lap, trying to quell the rising tide of panic threatening to consume her. She imagines Matt’s ghost watching her this very second, frowning at her doubts about their relationship by coming here in the first place. 

And what if she’s wrong? What if Matt wasn’t cheating on her after all? But Leigh had to come here to put the issue to rest. Matt would understand why she needs to do this. He always did. 

A few moments later, the door behind the reception desk opens and the receptionist emerges from it, motioning for Leigh to enter. 

Leigh finds you standing behind your desk, your back to her, arranging a stack of medical records on the shelf.

“Dr. Y/N?” Leigh calls out softly.

You turn around at the sound of her voice, and when she sees you for the first time, Leigh immediately knows.

Danny was telling the truth. It takes everything in her not to break down in front of a stranger her husband fell in love with.

You, however, don’t recognize the woman standing before you, thinking perhaps she's simply one of your past clients. You offer Leigh a contrite smile. “You wanted to see me? Miss…?”

“Leigh Shaw.”

The name doesn’t ring a bell either, but you keep a friendly smile on your face. 

Leigh hesitates for a moment before continuing, her voice sounding fragile. “I need to talk to you about my husband,” she says, studying your clueless face. You're stunning and accomplished—a doctor and a businesswoman. You have a smile that could brighten even the darkest room.

Matt never stood a chance, did he?

“I'm sorry, I'm not sure I understand,” you say, hands retreating into the pockets of your white coat.

Leigh takes a deep breath, steeling herself for what she knows will be a difficult conversation. 

“I recently found out that my husband was cheating on me,” she says, her green eyes boring into yours. “With you.”

-

After leaving your clinic, Leigh heads straight to Matt’s grave, stomping angrily on the sparse sheet of grass that has begun to sprout from his resting place.

“You're such a fucking liar!” she spits out at the unsusceptible headstone, the heat of fury spreading through her veins and to every molecule in her body. The cold wind lashes through her hair as Leigh drops to her knees, feeling like the entire world is bearing down on her. She reaches out to touch the cold marble of the headstone, still seeking solace from the one who caused her so much hurt.

“Why, Matt?”

She knows there will be no answers—only the cold silence of death.

Leigh feels a surge of anger rise within her once more as she recalls the way you looked at her—the pain in your eyes when she revealed to you that Matt had died. What you two had was real, as real as what she had with him. She had been hoping it was at least just a fling, but alas, she couldn’t be further from her assumptions.

“I can't believe I ever loved you,” Leigh mutters bitterly. She wants to scream, to rage against the injustice of it all. But all she can do is clutch at the grass beneath her, her nails digging into the earth as if trying to anchor herself against the torrent of pain crippling her chest. Tears stream down her face as she finally collapses to the ground, assuming a fetal position, whispering, “I can't believe I still do.”

-

You continue to stare at the space that Leigh previously occupied for a good ten minutes, not moving an inch from where you stood—shocked, hurt, confused. Matt, the man you had been seeing, was dead. And not just dead, but married. Married to someone else, someone named Leigh Shaw, a name so important but he managed to hide from you for weeks. 

Matt had never mentioned a wife, never wore a ring, never hinted at the existence of someone waiting for him at home. If he had, you would never have let him get as close to you like he did. You've always respected boundaries and families—and now you've discovered that unwittingly, you've destroyed one.

Leigh's departure was swift, just as soon as you confessed to having feelings for her husband and how Matt reciprocated those same feelings. Leigh, ruthless in her questioning, demanded to know if you had slept with Matt. You swore you never did, detailing how Matt abruptly ghosted you after your first kiss, leaving you with nothing but unanswered texts and missed calls. 

You wanted so badly for Leigh to believe you, and you think she did. However, none of it mattered in the end. He cheated all the same. He hurt the woman he made a promise to love and stay faithful to. 

Because of you.

You feel sickened by your own naivety; by the way you have allowed yourself to be fooled by his lies. And yet, amidst the anger and self-recrimination, there is a profound sense of loss. Despite the circumstances of your relationship, you had cared for Matt deeply. Maybe even loved him.

But how much of it was real? How much of it was not about him running from his problems with his wife and using you as a distraction? The ease with which he slipped out of your life suddenly fits into place.

While his passing deeply rattled you, it's now largely overshadowed by thoughts of his widow.

Leigh Shaw.

Earlier, even though you said sorry over and over, it felt like it wasn't enough, and you wanted to do more to make her feel better. What stopped you was the realization that you're likely the last person she would want comfort from. A sense of helplessness washes over you as you come to the conclusion that there's nothing you can do to undo the damage that's been done. Matt is gone, and Leigh's world has been shattered in ways you can't even begin to imagine. 

Moving on from Matt is something you know you could do. He wasn’t the first person to break your heart, be it through deceit or demise. But the situation with Leigh is unfamiliar territory.

How do you fix this for her? 

Will she even let you?

-

When Leigh tells Jules about Matt’s infidelity, her sister fixates on the detail that she slept with Danny. It’s not the response Leigh expected. She anticipated shock, and maybe even a bit of outrage on her behalf. But instead, Jules latches onto the one detail that seems to pale in comparison to the enormity of Matt's betrayal.

“But how could you?” Jules asks, her voice incredulous as she chews on a dumpling. “How could you sleep with Danny?”

Faced with her sister's disapproval, Leigh finds herself clamming up. “Are you kidding? I just told you that Matt was cheating on me, and your response is to judge me for hooking up with a single guy while I'm single?” Leigh retorts, hastily wiping her lips with a napkin.

Jules just shakes her head, putting down her chopsticks. “Leigh, I get it. Matt’s betrayal is awful, and you have every right to be angry. But the ‘single guy’ you hooked up with isn't just any guy, and you know it. You don't think it's weird? What would people think? That all this time, sleeping with your husband’s brother has always been an option?”

Leigh's eyes widen in shock, and for a moment, she's speechless. She hadn't—didn't want to entertain the idea of what sleeping with Danny would imply. She was chasing a feeling; any feeling that wasn’t emptiness. And with Danny, she did feel something, even if it was regret and shame. At least it proved she was still capable of feeling at all.

“It… just happened,” Leigh murmurs, rubbing her temples. Hollowness and migraines, she's almost forgotten.

“And? Is it going to be a ‘thing’?” Jules probes, eyebrows raised.

Leigh lifts her gaze, biting back a defensive retort. Instead she simply says, “Absolutely not.”

Jules seems satisfied with that, knocking back the rest of her beer. “Good.”

But as Jules moves on, Leigh’s left stewing in her own thoughts. Telling Jules felt like yelling into a void—exhausting and utterly pointless. Now she’s dreading the thought of breaking the news to Drew. If Jules’ reaction was any indication, she’s in for another round of disappointment. 

Being a young widow already sets her apart, but nothing makes her feel more alone than her family's inability to truly grasp her grief. She guesses she's been feeling alone for years, long before Matt came into her life and subsequently left it.

Jules, catching the tail end of Leigh's distant look, leans in and asks, “So, what's the plan now? You still going to that grief counseling group? Danny's been showing up there, right?”

Leigh's gaze sharpens, a bit taken aback by the sudden shift back to practicalities. “Are you asking about my plans with Danny? Because I already told you, that's over. I'm never seeing him again.”

Jules raises her hands in a placating gesture, mindful that one wrong move could tip Leigh over the edge for good. “Not really, no. I'm asking if you're still keen on processing your grief. Now that it turns out Matt was... well, a snake.”

Jules calling Matt a snake doesn't sit well with Leigh even with his cheating coming to light. But she supposes it's Jules' way of being on her side every once in a while. It's a clumsy attempt, but an attempt nonetheless.

“Yeah, I'm still going,” Leigh finally says, her gaze dropping to her lap before meeting Jules' eyes again. “Not for Danny, not for anyone else, but for me. Turns out, finding out your rotting husband was living a double life does a number on you. Who knew, right?”

Jules cracks a small, rueful smile at that and says, “Who knew indeed.”

Leigh thinks back to the time when she believed she knew Matt inside and out, a belief so deeply ingrained it felt like a cornerstone of her identity as his wife. She prided herself on their connection, convinced that they shared everything—every thought, every fear, every dream. It was a pride rooted in the belief that she knew him better than anyone else could, and he, her, in the same intimate manner.

It was the kind of recognition that’s not only about knowing his favorite color or the way he took his coffee. It’s deeper and more layered. She knew the exact tone of voice he'd use when he was about to apologize, the look in his eyes when he was holding back tears, the subtle shift in his posture when he was trying to be braver than he felt. And she thought he knew her just as intricately—the silent language of her sighs, the meaning behind her quietest smiles, the small, everyday details that they believed only they could understand about each other.

“It's hard, you know? Feeling like you're mourning someone who never really existed,” Leigh mumbles after a long pause.

“Yeah, I can't even imagine,” Jules responds, reaching across the table to give Leigh's hand a brief squeeze. “But I'm here, okay? Even if I don't always get it right.”

Jules, Drew, Danny, her mom—all of them—rarely get it right. It has always been Matt. 

He has always been all she has and needed. 

Even if Leigh wasn't aware that she was probably just getting his scraps.

-

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps thinking over the next several days. Maybe I pushed him to it.

It doesn’t help that there’s a new member who has also been widowed, and she’s sharing about her late husband who had quite a number of mistresses throughout their eighteen years of marriage.

Leigh listens, her fingers twisted together in her lap, as the woman talks about the signs she missed, the lies she believed.

“I just keep thinking,” the woman's voice breaks, “if I'd been more attentive, more... I don't know, less demanding, maybe things would've been different.”

Maybe it was me, Leigh keeps screaming inside. Maybe I pushed him to it.

-

It took Leigh a long time to return to the apartment she shared with Matt after his passing. 

Mostly, it's because Leigh found it difficult to confront the scattered remnants of him that would remain untouched in his absence. No longer would he be picking up his favorite shirt or completing another page of his crossword puzzle book. Yet, these belongings would remain his, just as Leigh felt she still belonged to him.

So it’s ironic that now, surrounded by the same belongings in her bedroom at her mother’s home, she's being overwhelmed by the impulse to turn them all into ashes. In a sudden frenzy, Leigh grabs a box and begins to throw everything inside. The sound of her ragged breathing fills the room, only matched by the soft thuds of objects landing in the cardboard. 

“Stupid fucking toys!” she shouts, tossing a figurine with more force than necessary.

“And this shirt—what were you thinking?” She grabs a garishly patterned fabric, shaking it at the empty air as if expecting an answer.

Her voice cracks, “You're not even here, and you're driving me crazy!”

As Leigh's wrath burns through the remnants of Matt’s life, her thoughts take a dark turn. The things he owned, the pieces of his life flying from her hand—it all leads her back to the one person who had a piece of him, a piece that was never hers.

The thought of your face, the one that belonged to him too at one point, flashes in her mind, and she's on the edge of losing all control. 

If only Leigh could throw you into the box too.

Finally, she finds the book he gave her for her last birthday, the one she never read, and for a moment, her movements pause. Then, with a cry of anguish, she tosses it in as well. When the box is full, she kicks it. Once, twice, thrice—each kick releasing a burst of pent-up fury until she's gasping for breath.

A knock at the door startles her. It's soft but persistent, making it obvious that whoever is outside has heard the commotion in her room. “Leigh, honey, are you done in there?” Amy's voice seeps through the wood.

Leigh wipes at her eyes. “Almost. I, uh… just give me a minute,” she calls back. She’s not done—not really. But she’ll probably set the house on fire if she doesn’t stop here.

Pushing herself up, Leigh opens the door. She knows the sight she presents isn't pretty—eyes swollen red, nose a mess, and those dark circles. But her mom has seen this look more times than either would care to count.

“You okay?” her mom asks, though the answer's written all over Leigh's face.

Leigh shakes her head, no energy to pretend.

“Want some breakfast?”

Again, “No,” slips out.

Then, “Need a ride to the studio?” her mom tries again.

“Yes,” Leigh finds herself saying, clinging to the offer like a lifeline, a small acknowledgment that life, somehow, must go on.

-

The following day, Leigh looks at the box, then at everything around her. She mutters, “Screw this,” and starts pulling everything out of the box, putting it all back where it came from.

-

Leigh's back at running, not because she loves it, but because the sun insists on poking her awake before the rest of the world stirs. It's an old hobby, dusted off to fill the gaping mornings before her first yoga class. 

It’s easy to do because she realizes she’s good at it. Leigh’s only been at it for just a couple of weeks and already she's feeling fitter, faster. She likes the pain too, not being aware before that there are different kinds of pain, and some of them do feel good—addicting even. 

Mid-thought, her routine jog takes a wild left turn: stranded in the middle of the bustling traffic is a French Bulldog, looking decidedly out of place. Ignoring the honks and the near misses, Leigh bolts across the street. It's a bit of a mad dash, dodging cars that are swerving and braking hard. She scoops him up in her arms and doesn’t stop to think about the close calls. 

It hits her then—she's surprised at her own gutsiness, not even pausing to think that she could've been clipped by a car not paying attention. Maybe all this time spent wrestling with thoughts of death has brought her to a strange peace with it and is no longer scared of it. It's like she's danced with death so much, it's just another shadow she passes by—not something that paralyzes her in place anymore.

Leigh’s not sure if being this fearless is actually a good thing though.

After cooling her heels on the sidewalk for half an hour, with no owner in sight, she shrugs and decides he’s coming home with her.

Jules gives her a scrutinizing look the moment she walks in. “What, you went out for a run and decided to get a dog?”

“Rescue mission,” Leigh shoots back, setting the dog down. “Found him in the middle of Second Street. Seems he’s lost.”

Jules doesn't miss a beat, heading straight for the newcomer. She kneels, her hands gently petting the dog, her eyes softening in a way that Leigh rarely sees. The dog, clearly pleased with the attention, wags its tail vigorously. Her eyes are practically giving her away, so it sounds almost funny when she looks up at Leigh and says, “Just don't get too attached, okay?”

“I won’t, which is why I named him Visitor. It’s temporary,” Leigh says with a smile, looking very proud of the name she came up with.

Jules chuckles, standing up and brushing off her knees. “Nerd. Matt would've gotten a kick out of that.”

The room just freezes at the mention of his name. Talking about Matt is like walking into a glass door you didn't see.

Jules tries to backpedal, “Hey, sorry, I—” But Leigh's quick to brush it off with a shrug. 

“Don't worry about it. Let's just figure out where Visitor here belongs, okay?”

As they refocus on Visitor, Jules can't help but notice the way the dog favors one leg as he trots over to sit snugly between Leigh's legs, looking up at her with those big, trusting eyes. “Looks like he's got a bit of a limp,” Jules points out.

Leigh frowns and leans down to get a closer look, her fingers gently probing around Visitor's leg until she finds a tender spot. The moment she applies a little pressure, Visitor yelps, pulling away sharply and retreating a few steps.

Jules winces at the reaction. “Yeah, that's not good. Maybe we should take him to a vet?”

Leigh can barely hold back a grimace as her brain immediately links you to the situation.

“What's wrong?” Jules notices the sudden shift in Leigh’s mood. “There's St. Mary's Animal Clinic nearby. I heard they're great.”

That's your clinic. Leigh's throat tightens at the thought, the memories of her visit flooding back. “Are there others around here?”

Jules looks puzzled at the question. “I mean, I can look it up, but what's wrong with St. Mary's?”

Leigh considers whether she should tell Jules about meeting you. Part of her really knows it’s unfair to dislike you, especially if you genuinely didn't know Matt was married. But she knows Jules too well—tell her, and it'll turn into a whole thing. Leigh's not sure she's up for that drama.

Despite her reservations, Leigh decides to bite the bullet, her curiosity getting the better of her. Besides, if she can’t be brave enough to talk about this in her counseling group, she should probably at least tell Jules.

“Actually, Jules,” Leigh begins, “St. Mary's Animal Clinic is where... where she works.”

Jules's eyes widen in shock, her hand flying to her mouth. “Wait, you mean... you mean her, as in…?” she stammers, disbelief written all over her face.

“Yup,” Leigh confirms, smacking her lips forcefully. 

“Oh my god—that bitch,” Jules spits out, her voice dripping with disdain before Leigh can even brace for impact.

“She didn’t know Matt’s married,” Leigh clarifies quickly.

“And you bought that?”

“I had a feeling she was telling the truth. Besides, I can’t imagine Matt being that brazen to pursue someone while married. He can be a little self-righteous sometimes,” Leigh says, only half-sure of her statement. Recently, she has to remind herself that maybe she never really knew him at all.

Then, an idea sparks in Jules's mind. “You know what?” she says, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Maybe this is a good opportunity. After all, she owes you one, right? Maybe she'll treat Visitor for free, to make up for being... well, you know.”

Leigh rubs her nose, skeptical of the idea. “I don't know, Jules. I don't want to impose…”

Jules leans in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I mean, if she's the reason you're hurting, maybe she should make it right?”

She isn't hurting because of you, not directly. That's why Jules’ suggestion hangs in the air, unappealing. Leigh remembers the pity in your eyes from that morning, and she doesn't want it. She doesn't want anything from you at all. Her resolve instantly hardens like ice. 

“No,” Leigh finally says. “I don't want her charity. I'll pay for Visitor's bills myself. And I'll keep the receipts for when his real owners show up.” It's a decision that feels surprisingly empowering, a small reclaiming of control in a world that's felt off-kilter for too long.

Jules merely sighs; she knows better than to push Leigh when her mind’s made up. 

“Have it your way.”

-

Leigh brings Visitor to St. Mary’s the very next day.

There's a certain set to her jaw, a readiness for something less than pleasant. She doesn’t need to go through reception this time because she spots you right away, escorting a client to the door, cradling their puppy in your arms. Seeing you with a pet makes Leigh realize why you’ve chosen this profession. You fit right in among the animals, she muses bitterly.

It's with a sense of satisfaction that she watches your smile dissipate as soon as your eyes land on hers. 

She strides confidently towards you, dog in arms, forcing you to quickly hand off the puppy back to its owner. Yet, you recover with a swiftness that's begrudgingly admirable as you give her a look that’s equal parts professional and friendly—like you were actually looking forward to seeing her again.

“Good morning, Leigh. How can I help you?”

Without a word, Leigh extends the dog she’s carrying towards you, a silent transfer of trust, or perhaps, necessity. You gesture towards the consultation room, an invitation she accepts with a terse nod, following you into the space where you effortlessly shift into doctor mode.

As you begin to charm her dog, she can't help but narrow her eyes. It irks her, watching Visitor take to you instantly, as if you were old friends. “What's his name?” you ask, looking up at Leigh.

“Visitor.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the name, just in time for your irises to capture the light seeping through the office blinds. They glow a hazel-brown, disarmingly so. Leigh forces herself to focus back on the purpose of her visit. 

Leigh continues, “He’s limping on his left hind leg. I’d appreciate it if you can prescribe him something. I'll try not to take up too much of your time.”

Ignoring the undercurrent of Leigh's insinuation, your attention remains undividedly on Visitor. The well-being of the dog before you eclipses any personal sentiments, as it always does. 

“I'm sorry, but before we can consider any medication, I need to examine him thoroughly. It's possible he might require some lab tests to rule out anything serious,” you tell her. Despite sounding apologetic, Leigh interprets it as your polite way of telling her to fuck off and let you do your job.

As you palpate the dog's leg carefully, you begin your routine questions. “Can you tell me his birthday? Any vaccination history?”

They’re basic, but they seem to catch Leigh off guard anyway. “He’s not mine. I found him on the street yesterday,” she reveals with a reluctant sigh.

The news prompts a more detailed response from you. 

“I see. In that case, we should definitely line up some tests for Visitor. We need to ensure he doesn't have distemper or any other airborne virus that could be affecting his mobility,” you suggest, already mentally cataloging the necessary procedures.

You start detailing the tests you intend to perform, explaining their purposes and associated costs. Leigh is clearly deluged by it all and you decide to take pity on the poor woman by adding that it’s still up to her which tests to proceed with, if any at all.

“Your call, Leigh,” you tell her.

Leigh can't shake off the vibe that you're throwing a gauntlet down in front of her. It's like her inner competitor wakes up, refusing to back down. “Do all of them,” she declares, tipping her chin up towards you. “Whatever you think is best.”

“That’s a good decision. We’ll take care of it right away,” you say, already picking up the phone to call the reception for assistance. 

Leigh's still trying to get a read on you. Was her arm twisted into this choice, or did you genuinely have Visitor's best interest at heart? She's not about to hand out trust like free samples, especially when she could end up misjudging you. It’s a tricky spot, especially because she’s clearly been wrong before.

-

The tests take their time, roughly an hour, after which Leigh finds herself pacing the lobby. An additional quarter-hour trickles by before the receptionist finally calls her back into the consultation room.

“Good news,” you start, making sure to catch her eye. She meets your look briefly before her attention shifts to Visitor. “It's only a sprain. The X-ray revealed no breaks or other issues. But,” you pause, checking to see if she's still fully engaged, “his blood tests indicated a low platelet count and evidence of an infection.”

Leigh listens intently, nodding along.

You explain what this means in a clear, concise manner, avoiding medical jargon as much as possible. “It's something we can manage with medication. I'll prescribe some antibiotics for the infection and pain medication to help with his discomfort. It's important that he completes the course of antibiotics to clear the infection completely.”

You watch Leigh closely, gauging her reaction and ready to answer any questions she might have. “We'll need to keep an eye on his platelet count, so I'd like to schedule a follow-up visit next week. This will also give us a chance to check how his leg is healing.”

“Will he be okay?” she asks without looking up from Visitor, busy scratching behind his ears.

“He'll be just fine,” you reassure her, adding, “Any questions about what we discussed?”

Leigh stays silent and you take it as your cue that she doesn’t have any thoughts on the matter. As she wraps up without saying much more, you realize it's time to wrap things up too. But there's something niggling at you, something that's been on your mind since the last time she was here. You're about to let her go, but then, out of nowhere, you feel this urge to clear the air about that whole mess with Matt. 

“So, uhm, about the other week when you…” you trail off, suddenly feeling like you're balancing on a tightrope without a net. You’re not so easily spooked by confrontations, but Leigh makes you nervous in a way you can’t explain. “I guess I just wanted to say sorry… for your loss, and for—”

“Does he really need to take pain medication for seven days?” Leigh cuts you off suddenly. It’s sharp enough for you to shut your mouth and abandon your attempt to get personal.

“Yes, the full course is important to ensure he's comfortable and that the inflammation goes down properly. It's just as crucial as the antibiotics for his recovery…”

Leigh nods, carefully scooping Visitor into her arms, preparing to leave.

You try one last time. “Leigh, I really am sorry–”

“I’ll see you next week, Dr. Y/L/N,” she says dismissively and then she’s gone.

[bunnys-kisses]

⋆⋅☆max v. with a trans masc partner☆⋅⋆

max verstappen knew what he liked. while he usually put the front as a heterosexual man, he had always been a little more fluid about his sexuality outside of the limelight. he had kissed many men in his life as with women, even those who were neither men nor women. kissing was fun, sex was fun. and he wasn't going to limit himself to one set of tools to get the job down. a cock down the throat could be as delightful as sinking into a sweet pussy.

so it was more of a surprise for you to receive max's advances than it was for him to give them.

you remembered when you grandmother told you that she was concerned about you transitioning because you may "never find love" and you told her that it didn't matter. cars were your love, you didn't need a person to fill that gap. so when you met the three time world champion as the new mechanic for the 2024 season, you honestly didn't think too much about wooing him romantically.

but, max was wooed by you. especially when he saw that your lockscreen of your phone was a picture of your two cats, and when he brought up his cats, you just lit up. max liked that you treated him like he was a person. and you simply said, "mate, i'm pretty certain they don't let robots drive these cars." then slapped him on the back, "but i will make you bleed red if you total my car." then flashed him a smile.

you remembered the first time max kissed you. the dutch grand prix had been a total success and within the quietness of the garage post-race with the trophy max had won near by. he took you by the waist and kissed you. he'd later admit that he wanted to do it right on the track.

"do you kiss all your mechanics like that, verstappen?"

"no, only the ones who allow me to win." you two had spent almost the entire season bitching about red bull. max wondered if or when he eventually jumped teams, if he could take you with him. as he held you in his arms. chest to chest.

you admitted close to his ear, a little insecure, "i hope you know. i've built myself... i was born a girl, but became something more. different." then tried to pull back, fearful of his response. you weren't trying to trick him, you'd rather have it on the table.

but he pulled you back in, his blue eyes on you, "you act like i don't know what transgender people are, mechanic." he said as he leaned you back a little, to get a fuller look at you, "you act like i've never been to bed with one."

"i don't want to be a one night stand." you said, your hands on the front of his polo shirt. his hat long hit the floor in the heat of the kiss. you swallowed, "i won't be a toy, verstappen. i have too much respect for myself."

he chuckled, "that's what i like to hear." he held you around the waist and you kissed once more. he could feel the rise in his blood pressure. while you could've easily done it in the garage, max gave you the address of where he was staying and the lie to tell security.

the mechanics team were in another hotel, but if you wore your red bull branded uniform and had your mechanic's pass then you'd get in easily. they'd never suspect that you'd be intimate with the star of the team. and you did just that. even flashing a smile at security before you headed up to the elevator. they didn't even ask questions, which made your life easier.

you found max's room and he happily brought you in. but once the door was closed behind you. his strong arms were around you. he smiled at you, happy to see you. you carefully touched his face, part of you believed this was a strange dream after too many rum and cokes. but as you felt his facial hair under your hand, this was all painfully real.

"do you want this?" he asked.

you nodded and responded with a question of your own, "do you?"

his smile grew a little more, he leaned in closer to you. you only now realized how blue his eyes were, "since the moment i saw you come to the garage. you were more impressed with the car than with me... i found it endearing." he chuckled.

you held his face with both hands and gazed at him, "yeah, because it's a piece of shit car for a champion. it's like giving the king aluminum instead of gold."

he laughed before he leaned in for a kiss. you held his face close to yourself and you felt something bloom in your gut. eventually you got your worn sneakers kicked off and the jacket of your uniform off. it left you in a white t-shirt and max started to strip as well. you eyed his form and he eyed yours.

you felt his heated gaze linger on your chest for a moment and without thinking you crossed your arms across where your top surgery scars were. it was habit at that point.

max was in just his jeans and socks. he reached for your arms. feeling your warm under his palm as he carefully moved your arms away. he wanted to admire you, all of you.

"must've felt very different after the surgery." he said as he held your wrists, his eyes gazed on the fading scars. he was in no way to judge about scarring. at least yours were for something worthwhile, to change yourself in such a fundamental way, "was it scary?"

you shook your head, "no... i wanted to do everything afterwards. my doctor basically put me on bed rest because i was trying to push myself too hard. what was a four week recovery turned in seven."

he placed his hands on your flat chest and could feel the slight raise of the scars under his palms, "you push yourself too hard."

you swallowed, feeling the heat in your cheeks, "if you want to be the best. you have to do more than your best." your gaze met his. it felt so painfully intimate. this wasn't just sex in a hotel room, this was intimacy. max wanted more than your body, he wanted to know all the nooks of your soul and what inhabited them.

he leaned in once more, "we have that in common." before he kissed you once more. his kiss was sweeter, an assurance that you and your body were nothing to be ashamed of. if anything he admired it, even though he couldn't relate to the feelings you carried. he could at least understand the guts it took to go through it.

to become more than you what was given to you. it endeared you to him as you broke the kiss and continued to get undressed. the more of your bodies exposed to one another, the hotter the room got. even with the air conditioning rattling in the room. you could feel the heat between you two.

max sighed, "i don't have condoms... i can pull out or we can do something else." he explained as he got into the bed with you. both naked. his broad hand grazed across your body.

you responded and placed his hand on your lower abdomen, right before your pussy, "hysterectomy. six months before i started. are you clean though?"

he replied, "yes. been a long time since i've been with someone anyway." he was telling the truth. since you started at the season, everything had become a blur with you and the championship being a central focus.

his pointer finger trailed across the scar for a moment before he took your face in his hands and kissed you once more. you could go on about the shape of your face, but in his hands it felt very small. you hadn't realized that max verstappen had paws instead of hands. the thought made you giggle a little into the kiss.

he pulled away and looked at you before he laid you out on your back. he asked with a small smile, "what are you laughing about?"

you looked up at him and said, "didn't realized that formula one drivers had such big hands. every seen them up close like this before." then yelped a little when max grabbed you by the hips and pushed himself up against you.

he curved his back over you and maintained eye contact, those blue eyes were swimming with lust, "well. it's good you haven't seen others this close up. i might get a little jealous."

you looked away for a moment with a stupid grin on your face, "okay, flirt. why don't we get to it before i melt into this bed." then a soft moan left your lips as he rubbed his cock up against your wet cunt.

he admired you for a moment, hoping the image of your naked body stayed with him for weeks to come. you looked masculine. he wasn't going to say "technically" it's not having sex with a man. you were a man just as much as he was if not more. you had to create your manhood and you made it to perfection.

"i want you." you said softly.

he leaned forward and kissed you gently on the lips before he eased his cock into you. he replied with an equal softness, "i want you too, mechanic." the nickname made your ears hot as he moved against you. he thrusts were gently but gained a steady momentum.

you held onto the covers under your back and let him move against you. once you got a hold of his rhythm, you were able to meet his movements as well. the kisses you two shared grew hot as max planted both hands on either side of you and moved.

you two were moving against one another, locked in a heated kiss. the bed shifted slightly under your movements. max was thankful that were was not a bed on the opposite side of the wall. and that this place had enough insulation to keep your noises muffled.

the last thing he wanted was your integrity to come into question. that you only got to where you were because of your seductive ways. the noises between you two were soft. there was no need to rush, the race was over and tomorrow you'd be on the flight to the next one.

he took your hands and held them by your head, which kept you two close but also allowed him to keep you pinned under him. when you broke the kiss, you rested your forehead against his. the noises were harder to keep under wraps the more you moved. the pleasure felt like fireworks in your brain.

you moaned a little bit before you said, "i was thinking something stupid."

max chuckled his sweaty forehead against yours, "tell me."

"i realized what your eyes remind me of." you admitted softly, "i couldn't quite pin it after we met." you were breathing heavily as you locked your fingers further with his.

"and what do they remind of you?" he asked, curiously. he had heard people refer to them like the ocean, the sky after a store, the definition of blue.

you replied, "home. the lake near where i lived. not scary like the ocean. familiar like the lakes i grew up near."

max had no words, he simply laid another kiss on you. his hands grasped your tightly as you two moved together more. the pace quickened and max knew that he wanted to be in your life for a long period of time. he wanted you to be his home.

you moaned against the kiss, feeling the heat leap in your belly as you felt closer to orgasm. you came first with your lips against his. your back arched but your hands were pinned to the bed. it felt good as pleasure rushed to your brain.

max broke the kiss and continued to move against you. he let go of your hands in favour of your hips where he bounced your further against his cock. it made crackles of pleasure appear in your brain. and he was no better, his heavy breathing and occasional moan fueled his need to finish. and when he did, he did so inside of you. max never thought too much about the surgery you had, but he was thankful for it tonight.

he stayed inside of you for a moment as he cooled down before he left a kiss on the corner of your mouth. full of such tenderness as he pulled out of you and ran his fingers through his short hair.

you laid out next to him and heavily panting, feeling so vulnerable. he stayed closer to you, eventually pulling you to him and resting his chin on top of your head. you got comfortable against him.

"if you have any questions, i can answer them... about the whole trans thing." you swallowed, even now you felt embarrassed bringing it up. you felt it was a mood killer.

he took you by the chin and made you face him. he smiled down at you. he asked one question, "are you happy? did you get the life you wanted?"

you nodded in response, "everything and more." and that was enough for max. anything else you felt the need to tell him would be told with time, after all, max expected to be in your life for many years to come. both as his mechanic and lover.

-

max would only come clean about the relationship two years later. the end of his contract with red bull and a final championship was enough for the driver to retire peacefully. and when he retired, you retired and you made a home in monaco.

the coming out post set the internet ablaze. especially given how long you two had been together. wasn't anything too special, just a small collection of photos that he had taken over your time together. like the time you wore his helmet in 2025 with a big thumbs up. and that time you thoroughly messed up a birthday cake for him, and with the camera in your face, he rubbed the icing off your cheek. the one that really captured eyes was the one that a friend took of you at a house party when max came to visit your home country, with his legs over your strong lap and his lips against your face. you were smiling like the sun. being the center of a media storm was only braved with max by your side. at one point turning your phone off and throwing it onto the couch. his kisses were still loving as always, his words soft, and his affirmations of your gender were often so sweet that you'd cover your face in embarrassment.

you were always comfortable with the idea of not meeting your 'other half', you had been given a second chance at life once you came out. and if no one could accept you then so be it. but as you laid out on the couch laid out against your boyfriend with sassy at your side and your cat between the crook of your knee, you felt loved. <3

a/n: i do write for masc readers as well, both cis and beyond. just not as often because many request femme readers. but if an idea is cooking in your head. hit me with it!

[murdrdocs]

ENJOY THE SILENCE. sejanus plinth

description. being tasked with placating sejanus plinth by doctor gaul seems like an impossible feat. turns out all it takes to be successful was revealing your true feelings.

includes. SMUT 18+, dialogue heavy, slightly manipulative!reader, capitol!reader, oral (m receiving), snowballing, sejanus typical angst. title from enjoy the silence by depeche mode

wc: 6.4k+

By the time your fist meets the thick wood of Sejanus Plinth’s bedroom door, you’ve started to lose your way. 

Somewhere along the line of you walking from the Academy to the Plinth residence, entering the home by invitation of Ma Plinth, eating her sweets while listening to the woman speak about how worried she was about her son, and finally walking down the hall to his bedroom, you’ve almost forgotten why you’re here in the first place. 

But forgetting would be too good to be true. How could you forget about how you were summoned into an empty classroom by Doctor Gaul, staring into her unnerving eyes as she praised you for what you could be, and barely what you are now? 

At the time, you instantly wanted to protest the task of going to the Plinth residence to seek out a certain outspoken boy who didn’t realize his privilege. But one glare from over her nose put you in your place, and you begrudgingly left the Academy to come here.

It’s not that you disliked Sejanus. You felt the opposite, mostly. You were definitely not one of the other Academy students who preferred to make his life hell since you all were eight. But there wasn’t much you had in common with the boy, no mutual connections that pulled you in each other’s orbit save for a few shared classes and a handful of projects. 

It was natural for you to question Gaul on why you had to be the one to do it. And as if it was natural, too, she shrugged, examined the walls of the Academy, and told you, “You have the potential to do something great. Prove yourself to me and surely I can find a guaranteed spot for you at the University.” 

It barely made any sense to you—how getting Sejanus Plinth to stop speaking his mind could prove your potential to be a great student at the University. But you were desperate, your future so close and within reach. You didn’t want to jeopardize it before it began. 

So as soon as classes ended, you grabbed your things, called off the driver, and walked to the Plinth residence where you hoped to prevent Sejanus Plinth from becoming a problem. 

Your three knocks against the door taper off to silence, which makes the shuffling on the other side even more prominent. Sejanus doesn’t ask who it is, likely assuming the visitor to be his mother or father, and not one of his classmates who was only an acquaintance. He yells out an invitation to enter and you push the handle down, allowing the door to swing open before taking a step inside. 

You don’t get much of a look at Sejanus’ bedroom. Only enough to notice that it’s a typical Capitol room with minimal personalizations. Deep gray walls, white crown molding around the ceilings, light brown hardwood flooring. A picture of the mountains not far from the Capitol sits above a large desk across the room, and a window on each side of the wood lets in the natural light from outside. On the left wall sits a large four poster bed with a cushioned back. 

And resting atop it is Sejanus. He stares off at the wall across from him, looking at nothing as it’s bare. But when you don’t speak, his eyes look over at the door. At you. 

Your lips pull into a tight smile, you fold your hands behind your back. 

“Oh.” Sejanus sits up a little straighter. “I didn’t know you were here.” You know he means no harm by it, but his words come out a little detached. A little rude. He seems to sense it immediately as he licks his lips and invites you in. 

You aren’t sure whether you should leave the door open or shut it behind you. Ultimately, you decide to return it to the state it was in before you arrived, not letting up until you hear and feel the latch click into place.

Sejanus uncrosses his feet at the ankles as you approach him. He’s still wearing his uniform just as you are, but the blazer and the outer skirt are removed. You notice them sitting at the foot of his bed. His relaxed nature makes you feel better about peeling your blazer off. 

You fold it in half and set it beside his which is thrown on the duvet without any precision, red material hanging off of the edge with one side showing the outside and the other showing the interior. 

“What’re you doing here?” This time, his tone is of pure curiosity, lacking any possible negative connotations. It makes you feel better and you sit at the edge of his bed not far from him. The size of the furniture makes you feel further than you are. 

“Um…” You take a second. Why are you here? Because Doctor Gaul sent you? Telling him that would do nothing but align yourself with the others. It would make your visit seem hostile. Like you’re here to threaten him, and not to warn him. 

You clear your throat. “I’m here to check on you.” You hadn’t noticed the suspicion in Sejanus’ eyes until it’s gone and replaced with neutrality. 

“Oh.” 

You nod once. 

“You seemed really upset in class earlier today. When Gaul came to visit.” Sejanus tenses up at the mention of the head gamemaker. His eyes shift to the otherside of the room, his jaw tightens, and you’re really thankful that you hadn’t directly associated yourself with the woman. 

“And I just wanted to see how you were doing.” 

Sejanus doesn’t look at you again for a second. Then, he shrugs, wringing his hands together in his lap as his brown eyes find you once more. 

“I’m okay. As okay as I could be.” With the way he says it, it makes you scoot a little closer to him. Enough for a friendly distance, but Sejanus still glances down at your thighs briefly. 

“Your tribute. You knew him, right? Back in District Two?” It takes you a second, but you add: “Back home.” 

That seems to soften Sejanus a little more. He flattens his hands onto the rogue of his trousers. 

(His thighs look exceptional in the material. You don’t think anyone else quite fills the pants out like he does. Except maybe Festus Creed but his sour attitude squashes any possible attraction you could have towards him. Attraction … are you attracted to Sejanus?)

Sejanus speaking pulls you from your muddled inner dialogue. 

“Yeah. We were classmates before we moved here.” 

You’re not faking it when you tell him. “That’s awful, Sejanus.” 

Your sincerity has a better effect than something planned could have. Sejanus’ shoulders lose their tension. He knocks his head back against the cushioned material of his headboard, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t speak and neither do you. But eventually, you can’t sit in the silence for much longer. 

“You can tell me about it … if you want.” 

Sejanus peels one eye open and he stares at you for a second, maybe trying to decide if you’re serious. And you’re doing the same. Are you telling him this because you want him to feel safe with you? Even then, are your intentions pure? 

There’s no point in dwelling on it more because Sejanus scoots over in a wordless invitation, a gesture that is more of a formality than anything else since you could have easily fit beside him without movement. Either way, you slide up to Sejanus’ side and when you do, you sit a little too close to him. But you decide it would have been rude to scoot further away so you stay put. 

That’s the only reason. 

Not because sitting this close to Sejanus makes you feel giddy inside and you like how he smells (clean is the best way to put it, with the gentle aroma of baked goods wafting off of his clothes and it’s no wonder where that aspect comes from). 

Sejanus begins with telling you of his time back in District Two. He tells you about the Plinth family status, above the baseline of citizens in Two, but he was still well liked throughout his home. He tells you about moving, how alone he felt when he was younger. How alone he still feels,  and you lay it on thick when you tell him he isn’t alone. Not when he has you. 

Sejanus has reasons to dispute you. It’s not like you’ve gone out of your way to defend him against your cruel classmates. You barely do anything, occasionally slipping in a comment against one of them that was truly for your own benefit if anything. Up until now, the only thing you’ve done to show Sejanus Plinth that he isn’t completely hated in the Capitol has been treating him with the same kindness you gave to others.

But he doesn’t say anything. Anything at all. 

You start to consider that you’ve fucked everything up. You’ve failed Doctor Gaul and she would condemn you and kick you out of the mentorship program before you’ve even had a real shot at proving yourself. 

The thing that stops your spiraling thoughts is Sejanus’ hand atop of yours. You still, unsure on what to do. But then you turn your hand over, letting your palms kiss before they intertwine, and you feel the warmth of his hand. It’s comforting. 

You turn your head to look directly at Sejanus instead of out into his room, surprised to see him already looking at you. 

“Thank you.” You watch his lips as he speaks, completely missing the sincerity swimming in his eyes until you flick your gaze up to them. 

You can’t help but think about how soft his lips looked as you lick your own, completely forgetting about the previously meticulously applied lipgloss. 

“For what?” 

Sejanus begins dragging his thumb across the skin of your hand. It’s incredibly distracting. 

“For everything.” 

“I haven’t done anything.” 

He smiles, soft and teasing and gentle and you’re starting to admit that Sejanus Plinth is really cute. 

“That’s exactly what I mean.” 

You think about all of those times you could’ve done something. When you could have joined in on poking fun at the Plinth family. When you could’ve condemned their efforts to fit in, and also their efforts to keep their district practices alive, all in one breath.

Had you not joined in because you were better than that? Better than them. Or had you kept to yourself because you felt sorry for him? 

The boy, born district and forced to move to the Capitol. Now unwanted by both groups. Trying his best to blend in and stick to himself, even though his moral beliefs obviously prevented him from completely assimilating. 

Maybe you didn’t feel sorry for him. Not when he had a life like this. A lavish home full of luxury goods. A father with power that could rival the oldest standing families in the Capitol, yours included. And slightly less important, a mother who kept even the rarest of guests satisfied with her goods. 

Your standings on your feelings for Sejanus Plinth become more confusing whenever you find yourself gravitating forward towards his lips. You don’t notice you’re doing it until you can feel his breath against yours. Your lips are so close, just one hair of a movement and they would be touching, but you stop. 

“Is this …” The question hangs unfinished in the air. You have intentions to finish it. At least you think you do, but Sejanus’ free hand cups your cheek and he closes the gap. 

Kissing Sejanus Plinth is gentle, to put it simply. His lips move tentatively against yours as if he doesn’t have much experience doing this and you’re not surprised. Personal endeavors spread across the Academy faster than rabies spread throughout the Capitol during the Dark Days, and if Sejanus Plinth was hooking up with someone you would have known by the next morning. 

His perceived lack of experience makes you more confident. It makes you press your lips harder against Sejanus, taking the lead as you start to encouragingly move your lips against his. Your lipgloss rubs off, you can feel it as Sejanus’ lips gain more slip to them with each movement. It aids in the kiss becoming messier, that and your combined enthusiasm. 

You scoot even closer to him, your legs blindly bumping into each other. Yet, you’re not close enough. You quickly want more of him. You need more of him. 

He tastes like his mothers treats, the sweet tang of pie on his tongue melding with the same taste on yours. You savored the pastry from Mrs. Plinth earlier in the day, taking your time to enjoy every single bite and taste the flavors in all of their glory. With Sejanus, you take and take without consideration of savoring. He tastes so good, having your body pressed up against his like this feels so good, and you can’t get enough. 

You must gorge yourself until you’ve had your fill. But you fear that your limit may never come, that you’ll be thoroughly addicted to Sejanus Plinth and nothing will ever fill the void. 

This worries you for a second, but then Sejanus is un-intertwining his hand away from yours and instead using his palm to press into your lower back. 

Just this one touch is enough to dizzy you and once more, you forget why you’re here. Why you’re in the Plinth residence, sitting in Sejanus’ bed, still wearing your Academy uniform. 

It’s not until Sejanus pulls away for a full breath of air that you remember. Staring into deep brown pits that you could easily lose yourself in, you’re reminded of the singular brown eye belonging to Doctor Gaul. They don’t have any similarities besides the base color. Sejanus’ eyes are uniform, for starters, and full of warmth.

Still, you remember, and concern strikes through your body for a second. When you move away from Sejanus, you can see the sadness in his eyes. 

You ignore how it upsets you. 

“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.” 

Sejanus still has his hands on you, and you’re not sure if you’re thankful for that or not. 

“Why not? Do you regret it?” He speaks as if he’s afraid of the answer. So you bless him with the truth. 

“No. I don’t.” You stare down at your nails, everything swirling inside of you confusing you. You have no direction of where to go from here. This part wasn’t planned. So you stick with the part that was. 

“It’s just … I don’t want you to think that’s why I came here.” The hand he has on your cheek leaves but the one at your back stays. 

“I thought you came here to check on me.” 

You look up at Sejanus and he seems a little standoffish. His eyes are a little bit harsh, maybe concealing hurt. But his hand is still at your lower back and you take that as a good sign. 

“I did! But I also came here to warn you.” His eyebrows furrow, but he doesn’t say anything so you continue. “The Capitol is dangerous, Sejanus. They’ll do anything to protect themselves.” Why’re you telling him this? Despite its true nature, your words made you seem like you don’t support your government. The one created to protect you. And why’re you speaking to him as if you’re not Capitol. You’re proud of your heritage, but something about sitting in Sejanus’ room, your body this close to his, makes you want to briefly leave it all behind. 

Maybe it’s because you want Sejanus to believe you. Yes, you need to speak like someone from the districts so the district-born boy will believe you. That’s all. 

“And I know you’re just speaking your mind, which is great. But Sejanus … if you continue and you say something particularly harmful to the government, they could hurt you.” 

There’s a beat. A moment of silence where Sejanus considers your words. His eyes search your face, they drop to his lap, and then they find you again. “I appreciate the concern,” he says your name, letting it hang out in the air for a moment before continuing. “But I’ll be fine.” 

He might be fine, but if he goes back to mentoring tomorrow and says something treasonous, you won’t be. Easily, Gaul could determine you unfit, unable to do as simple of a task such as pacifying your classmate. 

It’s a risk you can’t take. 

You sigh, shuffling closer to Sejanus and cupping his face in both of your hands. You sit on your heels at this point, knees digging into the mattress right beside Sejanus’ thigh, creating a hole in the soft bedding. 

Sejanus’ head is tilted up, allowing the light to meet his cheeks and eyes. He looks innocent like this, just a young boy who doesn’t realize what he’s saying. You hope if he were to continue challenging the ideals of the Capitol, then others would see him as you do now. Maybe without the lust starting to cloud your mind. 

“Just please, Sejanus, please make an effort.” Then, exaggerating the situation a little more, you bat your eyelashes and pout a little as you beg, “for me?” 

That does it. Sejanus’ eyes glaze over a little, as if tears are gathering in them. But he blinks and they clear up. 

He nods, turning his head to the side so he can press a kiss into the palm of your hand. His hands wrap around your wrists, he slides them up your arms and around your back where he encloses your waist with his arms. 

“Okay.” 

And this time, you’re aware of yourself surging forward to press your lips against Sejanus’. 

At first, you tell yourself you’re doing it to complete your empty confession. Nothing but tying a pretty and large bow on top of your hard work. But then, when Sejanus pulls you closer into a hug, and you trail your hands to the back of his head as he starts kissing you with an open mouth, you realize that you’re kissing Sejanus because you want to. 

Because he’s attractive and sweet and unlike anyone else around you. He’s a breath of fresh air, despite his troubles that sometimes constrict your airflow with the stress his actions cause you and others. 

It all seems worth it when Sejanus pulls up the back of your button up shirt and presses his hand flat against your back. His palm is warm, and just the single touch of skin on skin ignites something deep in you. 

You spread your legs more from where you’re straddling him until you’re sitting on his lap instead of holding yourself up on your knees. There’s many layers between you both, your pleated overskirt a notable one that causes trouble, but you can still feel Sejanus through it all. His thighs thick and comfortable, a slight tent in his trousers that’s surely just his dick existing in a flaccid state. You grind against him once, one firm and fluid push and pull motion of your hips, and Sejanus cants his hips up into yours. You’re sure it won’t take much to get him hard. 

To put your theory to test, you grind down onto Sejanus again, and he’s quickly groaning, pulling away from your lips to knock his forehead against yours as his hand digs into your hip. You don’t bother hiding your smile, Sejanus’ eyes are closed anyway. 

You use the time to run your hands along the sides of his head, fingers tickling along the short hairs at the sides. Sejanus is silent, taking steady breaths, and it’s then that the weight of the situation dawns on you. 

Surely Doctor Gaul didn’t have this in mind when she sent you to the Plinth house. Yet, her words ring throughout your otherwise empty head. 

“Your classmate, Mr. Plinth. He’s going to be a problem. Stop him while he’s ahead.” 

And when you dared to question her on why you had to be the one to do it, and not another student like Coriolanus Snow for example, she glared at you. Her back seemingly got straighter, the chip on her shoulder grew to double its original size. 

“Don’t you want a spot at the University? Prove yourself to me here, and surely your application can be boosted to the right people, a few good words whispered in their ears. That is if you succeed. Placate him. Put a pink pacifier in his mouth and a bonnet on his head for all I care just shut him up.” 

Her words were stern, absolutely no room for argument, which is why you packed your things up and accepted your fate. But here, like this, is this how you’re going to placate Sejanus Plinth?

Is this a means to get him to trust you? To keep his mouth shut on matters of the Capitol? Or do you really want this?

Sejanus’ hands slide down your sides and settle right above your ass. You can’t help but wish they would go just a little further down. 

His touch is sturdy and strong. You feel comfortable in his hands. 

“We don’t have to keep going if you don’t want to,” you tell him, your words soft spoken and almost vulnerable. You curse yourself for them, but Sejanus doesn’t seem to latch onto the tone. He doesn’t use your moment of vulnerability  to his advantage, like predator to prey. 

Instead, he opens his eyes and looks up at you. 

“I would like to continue. If you feel the same.”

You use your hands at the side of his head to push his visage back, latching your lips onto his gratefully.  

From there, things move fairly fast. 

You make quick work of your button up, pushing the buttons out of the slits so you can peel the shirt off all together. It’s thrown behind you, likely to end at the foot of the bed along with your outwear. 

You don’t want to stop kissing Sejanus, but you let him pull away when you realize he wants to look at you. You're wearing a shirt, just a thin fitted camisole, but Sejanus still drinks in the sight anyway. 

His eyes, a little lidded yet no less interested in your presence, graze over your décolletage. When you realize he’s content with just staring, you latch your hands onto the hem of the camisole and peel it over your head, exposing your plain black bra, the final layer of your top half. 

Sejanus takes a deep breath, you both hear it and see it, and only when he has returned to his normal breathing pattern does he speak. 

“May I?” 

You nod, sitting up a little straighter as Sejanus’ hands trail up from your ass to the back of your bra. You expect him to struggle for a second, maybe fumble around and pull the back in the wrong direction once or twice. 

But in one motion Sejanus has your bra unclasped and he’s pulling it off of your shoulders. 

He palaces the garment gently beside you both, far enough away to not disturb you in the meantime. 

You briefly step off of Sejanus to pull your trousers off, and Sejanus does the same once his shirt is off. Yet he removes his pants with slight difficulty. He’s too eager, he forgets to undo the button at first, and then the pants get caught at his feet. But eventually, there is a matching set of Academy rogue uniforms at the foot of Sejanus’ bed, and you’re sitting atop of him once more, playing with his hair while he blatantly stares at your tits. 

“You can look and touch, Sejanus,” you tell him, voice light and a little giggly. Sejanus laughs a little at himself, raising a hand and resting it on your breast. He’s stiff at first, and you’re about to open your mouth and tell him what to do, but then he’s rubbing his thumb over your nipple before rolling it in between his fingers and you’re stunned. You sigh gratefully, hands resting on his shoulders as your eyes flutter shut. 

You let him continue fondling your breast, already desperately desiring more, and that feeling only multiplies whenever Sejanus latches his lips onto your pert nipple. He could do anything to you right now and you would melt. You would have never guessed that Sejanus Plinth of all people could have this effect on you. 

He has you frantically grinding your cunt against his boxers. He has you whining at basically no stimulation, both satisfied with what you’re being given and also calling for more. He has you eagerly pushing your panties to the side to allow your cunt to catch the cotton fabric without anything in the way. 

Sejanus unlatches from your nipple at this, staring down at you with weathered breaths. You think you can hear him swear, but you can’t really hear anything through the thick haze already settling in your mind. The one that drives you to get what you want, no matter what’s required of you to get it. 

When he licks around your nipple one more time, you see it, Sejanus’ eyes big and full of wonder, no hatred or sadness in them. Maybe he is being placated. 

You want Sejanus. It’s something you admit to yourself briefly, not letting the thought sit in your brain long enough for you to feel any emotion attached to it. At least, not any real emotions as the only thing you can feel is a desire to bond with Sejanus in a way you’ll never be able to take back. 

As you’re guiding his hand down to your center, you consider it, how things would be after this occurrence with Sejanus. Did it mean more to him than it did to you? Did it mean anything to you?

Sejanus’ pointer and ring finger glide along your panties and any other thoughts you have rushing through your brain leaves, replacing with a chant of more, more, more. 

You stare down at him with what you’re sure is hunger in your eyes. Your forehead knocks against Sejanus’ as he circles your clit, and you can’t help but wonder how he’d found it so easily, only fumbling once before he made contact. 

Maybe Sejanus is more experienced than you thought. 

He’s preparing you, circling your clit long enough for your cunt to start leaking, creating a steadily growing patch in your panties. But, you’re impatient. 

Your fingers roll down the waistband of Sejanus’ boxers enough to free his cock, unable to hold back the embarrassingly comical face you make. You can feel it in the way your features contort, and you can see it with the way Sejanus looks up at you, amusement in his brown eyes and a big grin taking over his usually stoic face. 

All he says is “yeah”, his free hand cupping your cheek while his other hand starts to pump two fingers in and out of you. He’s a little cocky about it, at least that’s how you read it. You’re missing the slight insecurity that lays across his face. 

You would tell Sejanus that you’re unsure about taking all of him, but your refusal to admit defeat prevents you from uttering the confession. Instead, you shuffle down his body without breaking eye contact, momentarily mourning the loss of his thick fingers inside of you before you focus on your new task. 

“Can I suck you off?” 

He stares at you, hesitating, blinking a few times, and you figure it’s just taking a second for him to process. You spend the time gliding your nails down his abdomen, scraping the perfected ends in the hair under his navel that leads to his cock. You go further down, raking the red manicure through the (thankfully) trimmed hair at the base of his cock. 

It’s when your hand hesitates right above Sejanus’ cock that he responds. 

His answer is quick, curt, and simple, even though he stutters through it the first time. 

You smile and settle yourself between his thighs completely, circling your hand around the end of him. You try not to let his girth intimidate you, instead you spend a few moments shamelessly ogling at his—admittedly pretty—cock before getting in the position you’ve become fairly accustomed to in your final semester at the Academy. 

He’s big, bigger than anyone else you’ve been with thus far, and uncut. Impressive in a nice combination of length and girth, although he’s slightly wider than he is long. You don’t know if the width making up for the length will have any difference when he will  inevitably stretch out your mouth. 

You relax your jaw and stick your tongue out a little to prepare to rest his weight along the muscle. Just the first touch of his tip against your tongue makes Sejanus gasp a little. It’s small, and if the room wasn’t as silent as it is maybe you wouldn’t have heard. 

But you did. 

You let your eyes flicker up towards him as you lick around his tip, laying your tongue flat and gliding it over his slit. 

Sejanus’ hands grip the sheets beside his hips, which flex a little as if he’s about to fully sheath all of him inside of you at once. You don’t bother hiding the smirk that spreads across your lips when he notices he doesn’t. 

“So obedient,” you murmur, perhaps for him to hear, too. Either way, Sejanus hums and nods. 

His eyes flutter shut, dark lashes somehow prominent even against his tan skin and in the steadily lowering light in the bedroom. With his chest rising and falling, and his curls falling over his forehead, he looks pretty. 

Sejanus Plinth has always been pretty. You find no shame in admitting it. 

You briefly tear your eyes away from one pretty sight to another. There’s a trail of almost clear fluid running form from Sejanus’ tip, glistening along the side of him. You follow it with your eyes for one second, and then let your tongue follow the same path. 

You don’t focus much on the flavor, it’s not your main focus at all currently. Instead, you focus on the pleasure that takes over Sejanus’ being. 

This time, he lets his hands find your head, a large palm cupping the side with the tips of his fingers digging into your hair. You expect him to push you further down like men in the past have, but he doesn’t. His hand doesn’t do anything at all. 

It’s an unfamiliar feeling, being treated this fragile. You don’t know if you like it or not but you also decide not to focus on it at all. 

There’s nothing to focus on other than Sejanus. 

Having cleaned him up a little, you wrap your lips around his tip with intentions to make more of a mess. You sink down on him slowly, trying to pace yourself, but it’s hard whenever Sejanus is making such pretty noises above you. 

Small whines that get trapped in his throat, transforming into something that sounds more similar to a groan. When you look at him, you see his eyes heavy lidded, almost closed, as he stares down at you. His heavy eyebrows create a shadow that makes his gaze look intimidating. Briefly, you see Sejanus for what he could be perhaps with time, a man who’s tough and takes what he wants. It’s wishful thinking that Sejanus Plinth could become like this, but you can easily see yourself with a man like that, completely comfortable with the familiar go-getter attitude of the Capitol. 

Really, Sejanus Plinth is the opposite, a man who works towards what he wants out of desire to do good. 

His hand strokes your cheek and he nods. 

“You’re so good at this. Please, keep going.” 

You didn’t even know you needed it, but the encouragement from Sejanus makes you breathe through your nose a little more pointedly as you take the final bit of him that you can fit. 

It’s not all—you don’t know if you could fit all of Sejanus without training—but for your first time it’s enough. 

You let your mouth hang open to allow any remnants of saliva to drizzle down the rest of Sejanus, gathering it in your fist and using the lubrication to comfortably stroke the rest of Sejanus’ length. 

It takes you a little while to get in a rhythm. You forcibly control your gag reflex and breathe through your nose but even then, with each movement down and up, you feel like you’re choking on Sejanus’ cock. 

You pull off of him after only a few moments, taking the time to swallow and breathe without controlling it. He lets you take your time, not a single complaint leaving his lips as he patiently waits for your lips to find him once more. 

You continue to suck Sejanus off, now needing some attention yourself. You fix the way you’re sitting to spread your legs enough to position the heel of your foot against your cunt. It’s slightly uncomfortable, your foot a little too hard for your delicate center, but it thoroughly gets the job done as your eyes flutter shut when you feel the friction. 

You hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue around the tip of Sejanus before sinking back down on him. He groans, low and deep in his chest. His head falls back and thuds against the padded headboard. His legs lift at the knee for a second, before they meet the mattress once more. And finally, the hand on your head gains pressure. He pushes you down a little, not nearly enough weight for you to have to fight against, more like a calm encouragement. 

One you take confidently, sinking yourself all the way down and removing your hand from the base of Sejanus’ cock. You can’t stay like this for long, your throat is already threatening to seize up, but you slink your hand down to Sejanus’ balls, fondle and massage them in your hand for long enough, and then he’s digging his hand into your scalp and gripping for dear life. 

He grunts through gritted teeth, his hands get tighter in your hair, and you realize that he’s trying to pull you off of him. 

“I’m close,” he says your name urgently, “you gotta get off. ‘M gonna…” 

His hips twitch up towards you, you swear you feel his cock twitch, too, and then Sejanus spurts warm cum straight down your throat. 

You slide off of Sejanus, letting his cum trickle down along the way, freeing most of it from your mouth. Sejanus watches. He licks his lips just before you do the same to yours, and you’re quick to lean up before you swallow the rest of him. 

His hand still hasn’t left your hair, so he just slides it down to the side of your neck as your lips meet in the middle. 

The kiss is hot, to put it simply. Sejanus’ other hand is on your lower back, then your breast, then your ass, before finding a home between your thighs. He presses his tongue against yours, not caring about the remnants of his cum on your muscle. In fact, he licks around your mouth, running his tongue at the back of your teeth for good measure. 

By the time you pull away, you figure that after he’s shot a load right onto your tongue and then licked it off, Sejanus would be done. You expected him to kiss your cheeks and maybe offer a glass of water like the gentleman he is.  

But instead, Sejanus stares up at you with wide eyes, lacking any sign of exhaustion. “Can I…” he starts then stops, glancing down at where you’re still straddling his softening cock. His fingers start to run up and down your cunt. 

He starts again. “Can I make you feel good, too?” 

His questions shocks you a little. Yeah, you didn’t cum, but you didn’t expect Sejanus to focus on that. Besides, that’s not why you’re here. Or, it’s not why you’ve done what you did. You gave Sejanus head because you expected him to be in a sex haze after that, maybe believing he was linked to you in a way that would demand he abided by your pleas. 

(At least, that’s what you reason with yourself)

At this point, if you let him get you off, it would be just a bit of fun. You’re tempted to say yes, your lips forming the simple word, but just then you tell him: 

“You don’t have to.” 

Sejanus’ eyebrows furrow. “But I want to.” 

God, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to say no. 

“Not today, Sej,” you hope the nickname (that you’ve never said before nor have you ever heard anyone call him that) would make him give in. “It’s getting late and I have to get home and … your parents, they should be home soon, too, right?” 

His face deflates and once more, you briefly feel bad. Guilt weighs on your shoulders. Fear that you’d just missed out on something that will never come your way again settles behind your eyes. He removes his hand.

He nods, rubbing his lips together before nodding again. “Yes. Yeah. Okay. I understand.” 

It’s not long after that you’re standing at the Plinth front door, one hand on the knob and the other holding your bag. 

Sejanus stands in front of you with his hands stuffed in his pockets. Despite your previous rejections, his face still has a different glow to it now, taking over the previous shadow that resided on his features whenever you arrived earlier. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

The way he says it is full of expectancy, like you’re a thing now. It’s odd that your smile is genuine.  

“Yeah.” 

You take a step closer to him. “And think about what we talked about okay?” Before I sucked your dick, you resist adding. “I don’t want you getting hurt.” 

Sejanus smiles softly, takes a step forward, staring down at you with something like amusement in his eyes. As if he’s pleased by you caring about him. 

“Okay. I will.” As he reassures you, he leans in until your lips are pressed together a final time. You don’t want to leave the kiss, letting your hands rest on his shoulders as his rest on your lower back. 

He pulls back, his features all around a little softer. 

“Promise?” you ask. 

“Promise,” he confirms. 

For some reason, you don’t believe him.

[cherryslyce]

By NEWTS & Nott | Theodore Nott

Synopsis: The stress from studying for your NEWT level classes has you spiraling into confusion from burnout, and perhaps, simultaneously inspiring a certain slytherin to approach you. But it was all a coincidence, right?

Pairing: Theodore Nott x Gryffindor!Reader

Notes: Cursing, Affection (oh my goodness). I love Theo. Like my mind is constantly just <3 Theo <3.

The gloom that permeated through the air was unusually suffocating. The grey clouds that scattered across the almost equally dull sky left little room for enthusiasm to float about. Many students were beginning to fall into the pattern of procrastinating on their essays, the notorious wave of burnout that swept through the student body every year was at its most unforgiving. 

This year seemed almost worse than last year’s and you were sure it has already done a number on you. Hermione, ever the scholar, was amongst the very few who were managing fairly well for the most part. Your frizzy-haired friend was currently sitting across from you in the library, face buried in a book as she mumbled quietly, albeit furiously, about Harry’s sudden overwhelming success in Potions.

You yourself were quite impressed at Harry’s new penchant for the subject and you weren’t sure if his newfound success had anything to do with having a Potions professor who didn’t seem to loathe his existence or if he was suddenly gifted by mother magic with a potions mastery. 

NEWT level classes were definitely proving to be a challenge for you, and your head was pounding from trying to make sense of the Runes assignment in front of you. You weren’t Hermione by any means, but you would consider yourself to be another top student in your year, having a particular talent for Transfiguration. 

“‘Mione, maybe Harry just studied a little bit extra or something. Besides, it’s a great thing that he’s thriving, especially in potions. Merlin knows this spurn of success was needed given his previous record.” 

The girl’s head shoots up at your words, eyebrows drawn in frustration, “But Y/N, it just doesn’t make any sense! I followed the instructions exactly! Harry said he did as well, so why are all of my potions off?” 

Ah, ever the perfectionist. 

As she continued her tangent, her voice began to slowly rise in volume before her last words were bouncing around the bookshelves and causing other students to turn towards you. 

“Mione, please speak a little lower! And it doesn’t matter, you’re still the top student in a lot of the other classes anyway. Besides, Slughorn is still impressed with your work regardless, that Slug Club invitation is proof of it.” Your hushed whispers seemed to quell her and she nodded along, seeming to accept your encouragement. As if suddenly feeling the burning gazes being shot at the two of you, she quickly turned and apologized silently to everyone she disturbed. 

As she turned back to the book in front of her, you slowly looked around to rest your eyes. As your gaze flitted to the table next to yours, your eyes widened as you made eye contact with a familiar slytherin. 

Of course, it just happened to be him of all people. 

Theodore Nott happened to be one of the very few students in your year who could match Hermione’s academic prowess. You remembered starkly him beating out Draco and Hermione in Charms and Runes last year, shocking your friend group immensely– Hermione most of all. He was often seen walking with Draco and Daphne Greengrass, but he kept to himself for the most part. Despite his quieter disposition, you heard his name whispered often by girls who were longing to gain his attention and affection. 

And from the way he carried himself, it was obvious that Theodore Nott was an impressive wizard. 

He also just so happened to be staring at you at the current moment, no doubt having been disturbed by Hermione moments earlier. 

Slapping on an apologetic smile, you nod to him before turning back to your Runes assignment. 

Nope. Not awkward at all.

Your heart was beating furiously in your chest and you were beginning to fear that its quickened pace would either cause you to pass out or be loud enough for him to hear. You had never really talked to the boy, only being able to recall moments of fleeting nods and awkward eye contact between the two of you. 

Of course, that didn’t stop you from admiring his talents and his admittedly, above-average looks. You also appreciated his tendency to ignore people rather than berate and bully them like other slytherins in your year. 

You were sure that he at least knew of you, if not due to your involvement in Harry’s circle, then due to your consistent residency at the top of the academic hierarchy.

And a little part of you did hope that he took notice of you, not that you’d ever admit it aloud. 

–

The bags under your eyes could probably carry the weight of the troll you accidentally concussed in your first year, the unforgiving curriculum chipping away at the amount of rest you got every night. 

The library was unusually empty that evening, allowing you to peacefully sigh and slam your head into your books without looking like a complete maniac. Moving your head from side to side to try and relieve the tension in your neck, you move to slap your hands over your cheeks. 

After you were done waking yourself up, you drew your eyebrows together and began to tackle the large chunks of small text. 

‘Often mistaken for each other, the words ehwaz and eihwaz have different meanings, partnership and defense, respectively.’ 

You were definitely not making much progress with your Ancient Runes work, and you were growing increasingly anxious about the upcoming exam as you could slowly feel yourself slipping in the class. 

Feeling a prickle on your forehead, you shoot your gaze upwards and suppress a startled gasp as you lock eyes with an amused Theodore. 

When did he get here? Wait, did you get here after him? If so, how did you not notice him until now?

Perhaps, your sleep deprivation was beginning to interfere with how you function. Your lapses in memory were concerning enough for you to think of reining in your hours of daily study. As you slowly close the textbook in front of you, you watch as Theodore’s eyes dart to observe your sluggish movements. 

Clearly taking pity on your hunched form, he observes you for a few more moments before sliding over a sheet of parchment. Feeling your fingers twitch in suspicion, you carefully eye him before deciding that he wouldn’t try to blow you up or anything to that degree. 

As you read through the paper, you feel your mouth part in shock as you realize that it was an organized chart of notes on the words you were struggling with. Theodore Nott had just given you his notes like it was the most casual thing in the world–and they were his nice notes too. 

Feeling a smile pull at your lips, you shoot your head up to thank the boy, only to find the chair across from you vacant. Looking around your table, you’re only met with endless rows of bookshelves. You were left to your lonesome again, the paper in your hand being the only assurance that you hadn’t hallucinated your interaction with the quiet slytherin. 

Quickly packing up your notes and books, you carefully slide Theodore’s notes into your folder as you exit the library, parting with a quick farewell to Madam Pince. 

Briskly walking back to the Gryffindor common room, you shake off the strange interaction in favor of contemplating what a disaster your next Potions lesson is going to be. It was pretty formulaic by now with Harry finishing flawlessly, Hermione wandering out of the class with a lost look, Ron flying by the seat of his pants, and your constant thoughts of giving up and laying your head down. 

Potions had transformed from a tense, strict environment to one of the most entertaining in a matter of just a single year. You respected Snape’s intellect and proclivity in Potions, but his prejudices diminished any inkling of passion you had for the subject. 

–

You were correct in your assumption that the class would go exactly how it always went. Currently, Ron’s cauldron was smoking up a cloud that put Seamus’ usual catastrophes to shame. As you ran your finger along the list of directions for the umpteenth time, you realized that you were missing a stem of Baneberries. 

How you missed it, you could only ponder at another time. You were bustling about frantically, running on a couple hours of sleep, and feeling beside yourself. 

Eyeing your cauldron, you estimated that you could probably run to the storage closet and nick the stem quickly without causing too much havoc by leaving it unattended. Moving from around your table, you quickly weaved around frustrated Gryffindors and confused Slytherins and towards the high shelves of glass jars in the back of the room. 

You were getting dizzy from scanning the identical towers of jars, all the labels suddenly merging together. 

Baneberries would be near the top since all the ingredients were sorted alphabetically. Looking around for the ladder, you jump out of your skin as you nearly bump into a sturdy figure behind you. 

Holding your chest from the scare, you peer at the person only to be met with a familiar pair of amused eyes. 

Sucking in a short breath at your luck, you shoot a sheepish smile at the boy, “Nott. Hello. I didn’t notice you there. Sorry, I��m in a bit of a rush, I forgot one of my ingredients.” 

Theodore raises an eyebrow at you before partially sidestepping you, reaching up towards a shelf behind you. You gaped as you realized he was crowding you against him and the shelf, unable to wiggle around the small gap he left. 

Just as quickly as the awkward moment began, it ended, and Theodore was backing up and gingerly pushing a small stem of red and white berry clusters towards you. 

Eyes widening in shock, you carefully grab the thin stem, accidentally pinching his cold fingers in the process, “Oh, shoot. I’m sorry. Er…but thank you, Nott. I should really go though, I think my cauldron might explode if I delay any further.” 

Practically bouncing on the spot, you don’t wait to hear his response before you’re maneuvering around his figure and scurrying back to your table. Luckily, your potion was still boiling away and even looked salvageable. 

“It’s perfect! That bright pink is spot on, very good Harry, my boy.” Slughorn’s jubilant voice carries around the classroom and you could see many students suppressing their groans at Harry finishing first and flawlessly, once again. 

You purse your lips to contain your laughter as you see Hermione look more than mildly distressed before schooling her expression, shooting a small congratulatory smile at Harry. 

What a proper mess. 

Snorting quietly, you remove the stem from your berries and slowly add a few at a time, stirring the concoction three times counterclockwise. Unlike Harry’s tart pink potion, yours begins to melt into a magenta color, and you have half the mind to step back just as it gives a little rumble, a small puff of smoke shrouding over the circumference of the cauldron. 

Safe to say, that is not what’s meant to happen.

Unsure whether to mourn your failed potion (once again) or not take it too seriously, you opt to just do both, and drop your chin into your hands, laughing dryly at your fate. 

Quickly cleaning up around your work station, you risk a glance across the room and make eye contact with Theodore who looks vaguely entertained at your failed  potion. 

Later, Harry’s bottled potion is being presented by Slughorn at the front of the class, everybody gathering around in a semi-circle to see the result. As you shuffle from leg to leg, you feel a firm chest press lightly against your back. Before you could spin around on your heel, you sense their head moving towards your ear.  

“You forgot to turn down your flame and add the stem of your Angel’s Trumpet.” Theodore’s whisper sends shivers down your spine and you have to cross your arms in order to stop yourself from physically reacting. 

Turning your head slightly towards his face, you huff out in exasperation, “I’m not surprised, I was pretty much running around like a headless hippogriff.” 

You wryly smile, becoming accustomed to classroom failures. Luckily, it seemed that the wave of burnout was finally letting up for a few weeks before your NEWTS, so you could catch up on sleep beforehand. 

A breathy laugh leaves Theodore’s lips imperceptibly and you have to fight back the pleased grin threatening to pull at your face. 

Soon, Slughorn was dismissing class and you were all free to head to the dining hall for lunch. Spinning to head back to grab your book bag, you shoot a small smile at Theodore, “Nice chat, Nott. Thanks again.” 

Before you’re able to brush past him, he mutters a simple correction to you, “Theo.”

“Theo. See you around.”

– 

Your little exchange in potions doesn’t go unnoticed and before you could even stack up some potatoes on your plate, Hermione is dropping herself down next to you with a curious glint shining in her eyes. 

Raising an eyebrow at her enthused expression, you’re unsure if you’re walking into a trap as you respond, “What’s up, ‘Mione?”

Hermione leans a little towards you before quietly whispering to you as if she was sharing a heartfelt secret, “You know what. I saw you and Nott during Potions.” 

Craning your head back to look at her, you suppress the groan itching at your throat as you realize she had her mind set on getting information out of you. 

“It’s nothing of that sort, ‘Mione. He was just giving me tips on my brew is all, apparently I forgot a key ingredient. I’m a proper mess and it seems to be catching the attention of other houses.” You breathe out quietly, beginning to push your food around on your plate. 

Hermione grins like she knows something you don’t and replies with finality before scooping food onto her plate, “Well, he’s seated rather far away from us, don’t you agree? I wonder how he knew what you did wrong.” 

Her words have you pausing as you straighten up in your seat, shooting your wide eyes to her satisfied face. 

Sweet Merlin, she wasn’t called the brightest witch of your age for a half-hearted reason. In a way, you wanted to smack yourself for not realizing sooner despite how glaringly obvious it seems in hindsight. 

How did he know what you did wrong?

– 

It’s been a week since your potion incident with Theo, and you’ve been actively avoiding looking in his direction since that day. You absolutely would not focus on the boy, you couldn’t afford a crush, especially not one on one of the most eligible bachelors of your year. 

Plus, a crush would be detrimental to your grades, and you had barely just recovered from your chronic sleep deprivation. 

Unfortunately, your active avoidance of the boy only made him drift through your head more often. You even caught yourself writing his name mid-sentence while you were doing your Transfiguration essay. 

At the current moment, you were sitting with your friends in the common room, listening to Harry rant about Draco, once again. It was entertaining, but you could feel Hermione shooting small glances at you from time to time, still remembering your incident with Theodore. 

Crossing your arms, you finally speak up as Harry stops to catch his breath, “Harry, are you sure you’re not just interested in Malfoy? No one pays this much attention to someone without having a crush on them, I mean seriously, how do you even know how Draco likes his apples?” 

Harry gapes at your words, fishing around for a logical rebuttal, but you can see how his eyes widen in realization. Ron seems plenty amused by Harry’s flailing and leans back like a satisfied wingman, even though you were the one who did all the mental gymnastics for Harry. 

Hermione raises her eyebrows at your words, turning to face you before echoing your words quietly, “Yeah, no one pays that much attention to someone without it involving a crush.” 

Shaking your head, you dismiss her insinuation, “It was one lesson, ‘Mione. I doubt he’s looking to court me or anything.” 

Your words grab Harry and Ron’s attention and they suddenly lean over to you for an explanation. Raising your eyebrows in challenge, you successfully harden your resolve despite their puppy eyes. 

Realizing that you were going to remain tight-lipped, Hermione decides to enlighten them, “A certain slytherin has taken interest in Y/N.” 

“Oh please ‘Mione, I’m telling you that he’s just really observant and really good at potions.” Your last words catch a little in your throat. 

Hermione grins like cheshire cat, having successfully roped you in, “Sure, and him giving you his nice notes was just a casual ordeal as well.”

Ron and Harry swing their heads back and forth between the two of you, eyes brimming with anticipation. 

Ron seems to have reached the end of his patience and grabs hold of your forearms, shaking you playfully before exclaiming, “Well don’t just keep fighting, tell us who!” 

Huffing in defeat, you dart your attention to the fireplace as you satiate their curiosity, “Theodore Nott.” 

Harry falls back on the floor and releases a noise of surprise while Ron’s hands rip away from your arms and fly to his face. 

“What? Is it that surprising?” Honestly, you were mildly insulted.

Harry is the first to speak, shaking his head reassuringly, “No, no, it’s just, you’re not considering it are you?” 

Tilting your head, you’re quick to reply, “What do you mean? I mean I don’t consider it as a possibility, but what’s so wrong with Theo?” 

Ron gapes in shock, “Theo?” 

Hermione looks at the both of them sternly before turning to you, “I think what they’re trying to say is, Theodore might be bad news. I haven’t the faintest clue why they’d feel that way though.” 

Shaking your head firmly, you shoot down their apprehension, “No way, he’s probably the most tame out of that friend group.” 

The boys don’t look convinced, but Harry concedes with a quiet, “If you’re sure.” 

Tired of the conversation, you stand up from the sofa and stretch your arms above your head, “Enough about me, it’s about time for dinner. Let’s head to the dining hall and talk about Harry’s crush on Draco.” 

“It’s not a crush!” 

—

It’s the very next morning after your conversation in the common room when something bizarre happens to you again. You had successfully evaded Theodore for a little over a week, and sometimes you could feel a pointed stare aimed at you. 

As you’re pouring orange juice for yourself during breakfast, a letter drops in front of your plate as everyone gets their post. Confused by the envelope, you cast a charm to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with before picking it up. 

There wasn’t a sender address on the envelope, but as you neatly tear it open and unfold the paper inside, you realize that you knew exactly who it was from. 

The words were neatly written on the paper, and even without the letter’s content, you already recognized the penmanship. 

Meet me after dinner tonight? Astronomy Tower. 

Don’t worry, you’ll be back before curfew. 

P.S. Do you need my notes again?

Unable to stop yourself, your head shoots up and towards the direction of Draco’s friend group. Immediately, your eyes lock with Theodore’s and he sends you a small smile, tilting his head subtly to ask for your answer. 

Slowly nodding, you feel warmth flood your face as he breaks into a pleased grin and his eyes twinkle in victory. His expression catches the attention of his friends as they all immediately stop their conversation and follow Theodore’s gaze. 

Your eyebrows nearly shoot off your face as you’re suddenly under the scrutiny of the slytherin circle. Surprisingly, Draco doesn’t jeer at you but rather smirks at you ominously, but surprisingly not with malice. Blaise and Pansy look back at Theodore and whisper furiously, their words seemingly so obscene that it tears Theo’s gaze from you and to his smiling friends. 

You weren’t sure if you should be worried. Swallowing down your nervousness, you carefully fold the letter back up and tuck it away into your book bag, keeping your head down for the rest of the meal. 

– 

Your day seems to pass by in a blur, and soon enough you’re rising out of your seat during dinner, eyes trailing to glance at Theo, whose attention darts to your rising form. 

Harry raises his head to look at you in confusion, “You’re done eating already?” 

Nodding quickly, you plaster on a reassuring smile to settle your nerves, “Yeah, I’m just going to go take a walk. I’ll meet you guys in the common room before curfew.” 

Your friends bid you farewell and you pace out of the hall, seeing Theodore push his plate back out of the corner of your eye. Not ready to face him quite yet, you pick up the pace as you head towards the Astronomy Tower, head filled with racing thoughts. 

As you enter the top tier of the tower, you walk towards the ledge to look at the sky, deciding to just leave the door open for Theo. 

A few minutes pass before you hear footsteps approaching you, your shoulders tensing in anticipation. 

Theodore slowly makes his way to stand next to you, resting one arm on the stone ledge and maneuvering his body to face you. Unable to face him just yet, you opt to break the silence first, “So, why did you want to meet with me?” 

“I thought you would have figured it out by now. After all, you’re quite brilliant.” Amusement colors his tone, and you were sure he was smiling at you right now.

Feeling your brain lag at the sudden compliment, you turn your head and survey him with questioning eyes before finding your voice, “It’s not like you to do all this.” 

His lips tug a little at your attention, “Like what?” 

Turning your body to face him fully, you’re keenly aware of the warmth emanating from his body, “Like approaching people you’re unfamiliar with and giving them your notes. Asking them to meet up with you at night. Helping them with their potions. You’re not possessed are you?”

Theodore’s nose wrinkles in amusement as his smile seems to grow impossibly wider, “So you watch me too. But no, I’m not possessed. I think we both know what the deal is though.” 

Dropping your shoulders as your nerves seem to turn to jelly, you release a shaky sigh, “Then, you like me too?” 

Your eyes flit across his face quickly, watching his eyes widen slowly. Smiling at you in fondness, he carefully brings up his hand to cup your face, his cool rings soothing your burning cheek. 

His thumb slowly brushes across your cheek and he steps closer to your figure, leaning to close the distance between your faces, but leaving just enough room to have you wanting more. 

His gaze flickers between your lips and eyes, finally breaking through the silence that settled between the two of you, “Yes, I like you too. Have for a while.” 

You can’t fight your smile, and Theodore seems to be unable to wait any longer, ducking his head further towards yours, “Tell me to stop if you’re not ready.” 

Laughing breathlessly at his words, you bring your hands to rest behind his neck, tugging him closer to close the faint gap between your bodies, “Not a chance in hell.” 

Theodore brings a hand to wrap around your body, quickly connecting your lips. His firm grip on you has you melting against him, and you’re sure that the world completely stopped in that moment, nerves running like fireworks in your body. 

You both break apart for air, donning identical grins of bliss. Unwilling to let you stray too far, Theodore doesn’t loosen his hold and opts to softly nuzzle his nose against yours, occasionally planting kisses on your cheeks. 

Rubbing circles on the back of his neck, you softly laugh as you suddenly remember something, “Hermione was actually the one who helped me realize that you liked me.” 

Humming at your words, Theo only pauses briefly from kissing your face to answer, “Remind me to thank her.”

Smiling softly at his clinginess, you pull your head back to get a good look at him, “Didn’t realize you were the affectionate type.” 

His eyes are hazy from bliss, and he cranes his head forward to try and bring you back to him before answering, “Hm, well the last week has been rough with you avoiding me. ‘M making up for it.” 

Your laugh echoes around the room, urging Theodore to lean over to nip at your ear, “What’s so funny?” 

Carding your fingers through his soft lock, you have a fleeting thought about curfew before you brush it aside to answer him, “Nothing much. Just didn’t think you would get pouty about it.” 

Reeling back at your words, his mouth parts in playful shock, “I don’t pout, baby.” 

“That’s good since we should get going before the prefects head out.” Your words are met with a loud groan and Theodore does the exact opposite of your suggestion, deciding to instead bury his face in your neck and cling onto you. 

– 

“Oh bugger off! He was being the biggest baby of the century all week long, ‘I don’t pout’, my arse.” Draco’s crude words have you dropping your mouth into your hands to muffle your laughter as Theo was left to gape at his friend’s words. 

Pansy nods in agreement and grabs your free hand like a relieved mother, “Trust me, I don’t know what you see in him, but I’m so glad you’re here now.” 

You beam brightly at the girl, coming to realize that your previous anxiety about meeting Theo’s friends was just a waste of energy–they were nothing like your presumptions. 

“Happy to be here. I was honestly driving myself mad all week trying to avoid Theo.” You don’t miss the wounded look the boy throws at you as he begins to tug on your elbow to try and drag you away from his friends. 

“Theo? I remember when I tried to call him that once in third year and he nearly incinerated me.” Blaise raises his eyebrows teasingly at your deflated boyfriend, unable to resist poking fun at his usually stoic friend. 

Huffing a small laugh, you interlace your fingers with Theo’s before stepping back, “Dating privileges, Zabini. Now, it was nice talking with you guys, but Theo might die from embarrassment if we linger around.” 

You barely manage to say your farewells to the group, before Theo is steering you away by your shoulders, muttering up a storm about his friends. 

“Don’t be lax just yet, dear. You still have to talk with my friends, remember?” Your reminder has the boy straightening his posture, evidently unsure with how to approach making conversation with your capricious group.

“They’ll like me, right?” You nearly melt into a puddle at his words. 

“Hermione? Yes. Harry? Maybe. Ron? Not a chance. But I like you, and that’s all that matters. Besides, Ron is too scared to incur Hermione’s wrath to threaten you, so he won’t try to hex you or anything.” Patting his chest reassuringly, you begin to drag him through the castle, set on finding your friends. 

Smiling to yourself, you were sure that your sudden relationship with the slytherin would encourage your friends to confront their own crushes. 

“Oh, I think I see them! Theo, you can’t get out of this with your puppy eyes, now come on!” 

masterlist

[fandomnerd9602]

Pretend

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Three kids, a successful nonprofit, a loving doe for a wife. It was all so amazing. But in truth it was all very tiring too.

You and Wanda encountered a few firsts recently. Your daughter Natalie switched to bottle feeding and began trying to say her first words. It was amazing. You and your wife couldn’t be prouder or happier to say the least.

Your twin buck sons Billy and Tommy were enjoying kindergarten, alongside their best friend and wolf hybrid America who just joined their class. It was picturesque.

But you were missing special time with your doe. You missed, you yearned for the time you and her used to have together when you were younger. Not that you regret any of the amazing experiences parenthood had provided, but you wanted time with just your special doe. An idea formed in your mind and you approached your doe that evening with your amazing plan.

You approached your wife after dinner as she was cleaning the dishes. The boys were watching TV and your baby girl was dozing off in her little crib. It was all perfect.

You wrapped your arms around your mate and kissed her neck. She hummed in contentment.

“Detka” she moans.

“I want to have an affair. With you.” You quickly say.

Wanda giggles, “detka we’re married. What are you getting at?”

“We could get Natasha and Pietro to watch the kids,” you gently whisper in her ear. You begin caressing her thighs, sweetening the deal. “We can use fake names, get a hotel room. Just the two of us”

Your doe shutters at your touch. Her lips quiver at the mention of your plan.

“How soon?” She giggles.

“Friday?” You kiss her behind the ear.

“Friday” she responds with a blush. Your doe bites her lip as she goes back to her task. Her own mind finds itself racing with anticipation.

Friday had arrived. You got the reservation set and dropped the kids off with Natasha and Pietro. Your brother in law gave you a little wink as you turned to leave.

Wanda was already at the hotel. You made sure she had plenty of time to check in and get herself ready in however she wanted to. Honestly, the idea was so enticing and exciting for your bride. She even bought a couple little things for such an occasion. It made her giddy, a chance for the two of you to romance and woo one another.

You arrived at the hotel, a little swanky for your taste but Wanda really wanted to try it out. Turns out Friday night was a swanky event in the hotel’s restaurant, simply perfect timing.

You walked into the hotel in a nicely tailored suit, nothing too fancy but you knew your doe would love it.

You made your way thru the crowd trying to locate your bride as the jazz ensemble played softly.

And then you saw her. Wearing a red evening dress, makeup done, hair pinned up just right. Her antlers were shined up, gleaning like polished ivory. Her very mood portrayed that of a seductive fem-fatale from an old detective movie, your bride was just stunning. You almost couldn’t move, you were that stunned by her.

You walk up to her, trying to keep a certain level of charm on your face, “I must say, red really is your color, ma’am”

“I’m sorry,” she playfully says with a smile, “have we met?”

“I’m sure I would remember someone as beautiful as you” you respond. “Is there someone you’re waiting on?”

“No,” she stares at you seductively, “I’m here on my own accord, looking for some company”

“If it’s alright, I’d love to be some company for you,” you take the seat next to her.

“Most would be turned off by my antlers and tail” she lounges in the chair, not taking her eyes off you for a second.

“I find them quite attractive.”

“I could say the same about you.” She says, her voice dripping with the slight Sokovian accent that you loved so much. “So what brings you here tonight?”

“Maybe I’m looking for some company. Or maybe I’m here on assignment” you flirt with her.

“Oh?” She purrs. “Maybe I’m actually here to rob the rich donors scattered around here”

“International jewel thief? Funny I’m here hunting one” you retort. This little dance of words was enticing.

“Let’s save the cat and mouse for later” she grabs two drinks off a nearby tray, “let’s enjoy the moment and company”

The two of you take a sip of your drinks, however, your eyes remain locked on each other.

The band begins to play a more lively tune. “Care to dance, miss jewel thief?” You ask.

“I was hoping you’d ask,” she purrs as she gets up and sways towards you. Taking her hand, you guide Wanda out to the open dance floor. Your hand snakes around her waist and pulls her close. She lets out a little gasp.

Her hand snakes around your shoulder as the two of you begin to sway to the music.

To the best of the song, Wanda gently grinds her hips against yours. She knew exactly how to get to you.

“Spot any of your targets?” You whisper in her ear

“I spot one.” She replies with a mischievous smile, “I think I may have to get this one alone”

“Your room or mine?”

“Hmm…I don’t think your agency would cover a room here. Besides I want you all to myself” she guides her nails gently down your arm, the sensation was indescribable.

“I’ll cover the room service” you respond, earning a giggle from your mate.

She gently pulls you towards the exit of the lounge area. You follow her into the elevator and all the way up to your hotel room.

About an hour or so later, you and Wanda found yourselves lounging on the singular bed in your comfy set of PJs, the TV was playing a favorite movie of yours.

You had made love a couple times already and enjoyed each other’s company. She was the only company you ever wanted.

“I’m so glad we did this” your wife giggles.

“Oh I’m not letting you out of my sight,” you flirt with her, “can’t have you stealing some rich snob’s jewels.”

“You should’ve brought your handcuffs then” she gives you a wink.

The door knocked as you and Wanda got up, “room service” a voice called out.

You gladly answered and got your order of Chinese take out. Wanda really loved the fried rice and broccoli. The two of you took enjoying your evening with each other, just laughing and feeling like young mates again.

And then Wanda’s phone rang with a text from your pal Tony. The text read as followed: Wanda, why’d you take my watch off of me? Are you and Y/N coming back to the party?

You looked at the text and then at your mate. You had completely forgotten Tony was there too.

“Wanda?!” You asked with a little chuckle.

“I needed a reason for you to chase me?” She says with a little shrug.

Your mate, your doe, the love of your life. What would you ever do without her?

Tags: @lifespectator @olsenmyolsen @texaswolf23 @supercorpdanbeau @scarletquake-n7 @pinklawyerwinnerzonk @iiconicsfan25 @russianredassassin @revanshand @aloneodi @julieromanoff @softlymaximoff

[yeahspider]

stretch my hands ❄️

Ve’s note - omg first post of 2024 ! and ofc it’s a fluffy bang chan fic . sfw it’s all soft and warm . sparsely proofread . short and sweet ! enjoy <3

a warm light in his eyes is what woke chris up . which was weird because it was usually his alarm clock . the sun greeting him before his phone screen was strange . with his terrible sleep schedule it’s usually him kissing the sun good morning . but not today . no today he was off . no work . no meetings . no deadlines . he was free for 24 hours .

stretching his arms out he blindly searched for you . but all he was met with was an empty space . sadness creeped up in his chest . chris was certain you both were off today . schedules rarely lining up together he had thanked last luck for allowing him a reprieve from endless days . but you weren’t here .

a smell coming from the kitchen offended his senses . no . there was no way you were trying to cook . emphasis on trying . he jumped out of bed . almost tripping on his shirt that you discarded for him last night . stepping out the room and following the sound of frustration chris made his way to the kitchen . which could barely be called that .

he finally found you . dressed in his shorts that you swore you didn’t have . and you were knee deep into the mess which was probably supposed to be breakfast . chris watched as you frantically ran around , adding this and that to a recipe that he assumed was pancake batter . next to the stove was a stack of burnt pancakes . your previous tries obviously not proving successful .

“ahh cmon where is the fucking milk i just had it a few seconds ago…” he heard you mutter to yourself . it seemed you had yet to notice his presence as you mumbled out nonsense to yourself . a habit he found endearing and not concerning at all . chris looked to his right and found the milk you had been looking for and thought it was time to officially help you out . he grabbed it and went to hand it to you until you suddenly turned and screamed in his face . standing there stunned chris just laughed at you . which he could tell irritated you slightly .

“why would you walk up on me like that chris you know im jumpy god you made my heart drop to my ass” he heard you say . which only caused him to laugh more . he loved how jumpy you were . your reaction being priceless everytime .

“well maybe if someone wasn’t acting like a mad scientist in our kitchen she would’ve noticed me.” he said to you as he kiss the frown on your lips . chris could never find you anything but cute . your antics made his heart full .

“mad scientist ? god forbid wanting to do something nice for my hardworking super sexy husband .”

“nothing nicer than waking up to a destroyed kitchen.”

“okay you know what christopher -“

he stopped whatever insult that’s was going to come out your mouth with another kiss and a smile . running his hands up and down your sides you calm you . you both knew that it was all jokes .

“what if i order something for us instead, yeah ? i’ll help you clean the kitchen and then we can eat and lounge in bed all day.” he suggested as you tapped your chin pretending to think his offer over .

“that sounds a whole lot better than eating burnt pancakes for breakfast . deal ! ”