#like the way he wants her to be happy even if that means she's not with him

[nemesyaaa]

sweet nothing || rafe x reader x sarah

summary : it's okay to want them both.

warnings : minors dni. smut. stepcest (no incest/rafe and sarah are not implied together.). oral (f&m receiving.). bisexual!reader. mean!rafe but meaner!sarah. controlling. cunt inspections. jealousy. daddy issues. manipulation. strap mentions. spit kink. i don't feel like it's a dark content but just in case. please, be aware of the warnings before reading.

author's note : /

“ Rafe is not allowed in it. ”

Sarah Cameron didn't want to share you. As the high Kook Princess that she was, she always got what she asked for. She never had to sweat or bleed to get what she wanted. So if she wanted you to be hers, you were hers.

But that meant there could only be her in your life because there was no way she was sharing her girlfriends with Rafe. She had always been the crueler of the two. It wasn't surprising since Ward had always favored her. If she acted like this, it was because she had always been allowed to. It was too hard for Ward to deny her anything. And if he couldn't be tough and firm with her, he needed to be with someone else.

And Rafe was so easily the perfect prey.

Just like you were Rafe's perfect victim when Ward was evil to him.

You were only there because his father married your mother. You were just an outsider to this degenerate family and yet you were now part of a conflict of interest between the two siblings.

in fact, it has been terribly easy for Rafe to have power over you and to abuse it. Since you suffered from a father who had never been there for you, and you refused Ward to be that father figure for you, he simply had to use your daddy issues to his advantage.

so he had always looked for the slightest fault or failure in you. he was going to find any excuses for you to cry in his arms. also, he was very controlling. you weren't sure of the outfit you wanted to wear? he knew how to compliment you. Did he hate your outfit? he also knew how to make you insecure about it. he was an expert in manipulation since he was a compulsive liar.

you weren't just his stepsister, you were his fucking forbidden fruit.

you were too perfect, too good, too clean. but he wasn't like sarah. if he wanted you, he was going to damage you and destroy you. Rafe wasn't good at taking care of people. He had a terrible view of affection. He wasn't even sure what it was.

You were so adorable that it hurt, that he wanted to make you suffer.

He knew he could never make Sarah suffer, and that he was secretly the only one suffering from this distance between the two of them. Because Sarah was meaner. People always stayed with her despite the suffering she inflicted on them. Because she was so much better than him in terms of playing the victim.

he also hated the fact that you preferred sarah more than him. why did he always have to be the one who sweats and bleeds to be appreciated while sarah just had to bat her eyelashes to get everyone under her spell ? it was unfair.

and without meaning to, he had started to categorize you like her, a simple bitch among the others. except he needed you to know it, he needed you to be treated like one to be happier. and damn, he deserved this happiness. more than you, more than sarah. more than anyone in this house.

he hated the way you stayed together like sweethearts, even though you were far from being angels.

" think sarah would appreciate seeing you like that ? being such a whore for me, think she would pay you the same respect after seeing you drooling for my dick ?"

his voice was so sharp that you gulped hard under his words.

you were on your knees, mouth stuffed deep by his cock. your corners were dripping as you gave him a sloppy head for a few minutes raw. he held your head by the hair while you gagged on him which served as an excuse for him to degrade you even more. you were so pathetic, willing to do anything to satisfy him. your mouth was working so hard that it felt like it was always meant for this, to be used and treated so dirty.

he was so hard that you could feel every inch of his dick inside your mouth. every noise you made was sucked away by the wet sound of your lips around his cock.

“you can cry all you want, maybe those tears will help you get my dick wet and nice. if you don't like me being mean to you, you should learn it before choosing this bitch over me. ”

you continued to pump him, while he forced your throat with his thrusts, his heavy hips slamming down your cheeks.

“ tongue out...such a pretty girl...” he mocked you, tear-jerking more cries from you. “better swallow what I give you. don't disappoint me twice, i can't fail you. ”

he lost his patience with you so he didn't care that he was cold, and that you took it so badly. that was all you deserved.

he had spat on your tongue, once, twice, until he saw his spit sliding down your throat, until he saw the large glob foaming around his cock, creating a web around his glistening red tip. you were so messy and dirty like a dog after a walk.

and you made him even harder when you took him this far in your mouth. he could feel you struggling and gasping for air. you were so miserable that it made him feel better to see someone even more pathetic than him for once.

“ what's up, pretty ? thought you were an angel but you're such an evil thing. ”

you tried so hard to speak back but his dick was hanging out your jaw to the point all your drool was dripping from your chin. you were such a mess, unable to talk, unable to think. he was fucking your face, tearing your lips apart with the length of his cock. he was driving his shaft so fast in your mouth that you were just good at choking on it. he wrapped a hand around your neck and smirked when he could feel your throat bulging around his dick. your tears were hot, and your cheeks soaked with spit and cries.

he spat on your face, watching his spittle drip down your cheekbones like tears before smearing it on your cheeks.

“ repeat after me. say i'm good to you. now, say it. "

oh yes, he needed to hear it. he needed to hear from you that he was good for you. he needed to hear you say that you didn’t need anyone but him. he needed to feel important to someone.

“ y-y-our good to...me...hmpf...”

your muffled words were enough to make him cum.

he had released everything in your mouth, splashing it deep down your stomach.

but it wasn't just rafe.

sarah also had this need for control over you. she started to establish her territory on you.

her brother didn't deserve to have someone like you. pretty and angelic girls were only reserved for girls.

“rafe isn’t allowed in it.”

you thought it would end there but she had opened your thighs to slip her fingers inside your folds. you were already terribly wet as if you had been hearing about her touch all evening.

but she didn't want to make you cum. no sarah cameron wanted to make sure no one made you cum before. she inspected every corner of your pussy with her fingers.

at first, she just checked the inside, before starting to pump it in and out, watching you getting wetter with her fingers working in your insides. her thrusts were fast and deep but also insanely forceful, leading you to take the heavy pace she was driving onto you. you were panting and crying like a crybaby, as you could feel every of her digits bruising your walls.

you thought Rafe was mean but Sarah was meaner.

her fingers were tearing apart your canal, literally opening you too deep and you were supposed to be quiet because all your family was sleeping. and you didn't want to be caught in that position, especially when the situation was already so shameful. you didn't want anyone to know about your secrets.

“ say it. say that you prefer me over him. ” she urged you as she was scissoring you quicker, making you squirm over her fingers.

she was supposed to be your gentle princess, the delicate sweetheart that took you on amazing day to make girlies activities, but also the kook queen that spoiled you everytime you wanted something, but also the good sister that help you dress and listen to your matters but now you were just her pathetic whimpering dirty slut.

you were the toy that she's gonna use until she was satisfied and tired of it.

“ and you better say it like you mean it. because i can be pretty good, but also, really bad. and you don't want your step sister to be mean to you ? you don't want her to be your worst nightmare ? ”

she was scaring you at this point, but he really worked. you felt a lot of things inside your body, and your mind was so fucked up. her smile was so wicked, but less than the fingers curled inside your weeping core. the way she was so cruel, calling your brain a real pussy for being so useless and making you so wet by the way she was degrading you.

“ you…you're far better, sarah. ” you moaned, but she muffled your noises with her hand by putting her fingers inside your mouth.

“ i don't want to see you with that loser anymore. let him cry, it's the only thing he's good at it. ” she paused before continuing. “ I thought you were like me…but you're just like him. i really need to change that. ”

she knelt in front of you before spitting on your pussy. she waited for the spit to make its way down to your soaked slick to slide her tongue inside your parts. you forced yourself not to scream but you felt awful.

she was just too good.

you promised rafe not to hang out with sarah anymore, but you also promised sarah the same thing. as they both played with you, you allowed yourself to betray each of them. it was their fault. they had both taught you to be selfish.

her tongue was so warm. she had barely slipped it between your folds when you were already getting wet on her mouth. as she licked you, causing the inside of you to spasm, her chin was stuck to your weeping slit.

her tongue was toying with your cunt. you were so good, a fucking heaven. she mixed her spit with the foaming wetness at your entrance. she forced you to stay still, threatening you with her eyes and controlling your body with a hand on your tummy.

she didn't forget your clit and she also played with your arched bud to the point of making it bruise. her mouth was wrapped to your pussy, latched on and licking it, collecting every stream of your pussy.

she has so much power over you.

all her thrusts were so perfect. she absolutely wanted that if someone touched you here, you would remember that it belonged to her.

she wanted you to think of her every time someone touched you, just like Rafe wanted you to only think of him if someone entered you.

except you were free. with sarah, you only thought of her. with rafe, you only thought of him. you were not a toy. you had feelings. and you weren't going to get into their stupid, competitive games.

when sarah took a strap out of her drawer, you looked at her with wide eyes. you have never gone this far before. she reassured you while you watched her put it around her waist.

“what do you want..."

she laughed in a sharp mocked tone. oh where you sweet girl at? “I don't want anything. it's just what you need. because you like to think about dick, i'm gonna show what's a real cock is. now, enough. turn around. i don't want to see your face anymore. ”

“you're just so mean sometimes. ” you cried softly, before you obeyed her like the good girl you were .

“oh that why your tears for? should them be for letting a pathetic man fucking you behind my back. now you want to cry this much? Fine, it's all I want to hear from you. ”

That was how you ended up between the two Cameron but you were unable to make a choice. why were you forced to?

“sarah said i look pretty in that dress.” you started.

“let me choose something better for you then. don't you want to be beautiful ? "

“I thought I was always beautiful to you.”

“you are but only so when you wear what I tell you to wear.”

you hated it when he was controlling like that but it was impossible for you to resist him which you hated even more. you wanted to please him.

“burn that shit.” he commanded you.

“you’re joking, right?”

rafe remained silent to let you know that he was serious.

one other day, he gave you a necklace with his initial, and you blinked a lot of times. “I’m not going to wear that.”

"yea, you're gonna wear that. i want people to know what's mine."

"They're going to talk, you know..."

" why? because you're my sister. we're not related. from what i've know, you've only got my cum inside you. not my blood. "

"it's not because everyone knows on the island that you're fucked up that i'm…”

now he was pissed. you had abused his patience. and what you had just said to him had just stung him and hell, he hated that feeling because he wasn't supposed to feel anything for you. you weren’t good enough to him to have the upper hand over his emotions.

he walked towards you, and you backed away, slightly frightened. you knew he was in trouble so you were afraid of what he could do to you.

“come here, sweetheart. I’m not mad.”

he lied. and you knew it, tears had started to fall down your face.

Usually, Sarah was there when Rafe wanted to go after you but this time she wasn't. you were stuck with him so he had the advantage.

"you know I wouldn't hurt you. I'm incapable of hurting you."

he lied again.

it was all lies. with him.

"liar! you lied! you hurt me everytime."

“you are the only one who lies. "

oh evil.

"i always took care of you. and you better not forget how kind and patient I've been with you because I'm tired of being the one who has to take everything in this house. sarah, my father and now you? no, it's not going to happen. "

“what?”

"last chance, sweetheart. come here.”

you rolled your eyes.

“ do that shit one more time and i'm gonna make them roll in a way you're not gonna find it funny. ”

“ you're not my father, why should i listen to you ? ”

you lift your gaze to see a smirk on his face, before he pinned you down the door and lock it behind your back, his weight was heavily pressed on your body. “ don't act like you're listening to your daddy, you're far from a good girl. ”

“ that's not what you said to me earlier in the morning…”

another day it was sarah. you were coming back from a family day where everyone was there except Rafe. you didn’t know if he hadn’t been invited or if he hadn’t wanted to come. but in any case, everyone had been there.

when you got home, you followed sarah to her room. you loved spending time with her so much. Today, you learned to surf, ate ice cream with wheezie, built sandcastles, and met her pogues crew.

you left out the detail where you saw her kiss a certain john b because it made your heart hurt.

you didn't know what sarah found in men. topper and now this john b. but could you blame her when you were doing worse behind her back?

when sarah closed the door, you blocked her against it to kiss her. you forced her mouth to open in frustration, and she kissed you too, possessively. it was like your feelings were speaking through your lips. your tongue was furiously curled against hers, and your mouth violently smacked on her.

“ i don't like to see you with him. ”

“ do i owe you something ? ” she simply replied, arms crossed over her chest. “ i ask you a question. ”

“ oh come on, you don't need to be a bitch with me. ”

“ why ? i feel like it's the only way to interact with you. ”

“ are you mad at me ? ”

“ because you're still fucking with my brother ? if you can play, i will play too. ”

“ fine, i don't care. kiss all the boys you want. but don't forget that the taste you're seeking for is somewhere else. ”

“ now, you're against me ? rafe really fucked you’. fine too, stay with that jerk but don't forget who's dick between his and mine making you cum three time raw. ”

“ god, you're so annoying. ” you exploded. “ why can't things be simple ? “

“ because we want you both and you want us both. ”

[percivaltheknight]

Yeah, this says it so fucking well.

I have some big feelings about this entire thing. As a trans man, and as someone who was raised in a very gendered parenting heavy culture.

As much as my mom claims to not care about gender stereotypes, there's so many things she's said or done or expected from me, that she expected to see, that she prepared to see in her growing Girl Child, that she never got. And it shocked and annoyed her every time, because I wasn't following the Rules TM.

And my dad was always the type to keep his opinions to himself, but it's clear to see that he's always been a very firm believer in gender roles and stereotypes.

This created a very awkward environment for my brother and I. My brother who liked sewing and crocheting and origami, who hated the fixing and yard work that dad expected him to learn how to do. My brother who's now teaching himself how to cook, who buys himself cookbooks, because my parents never took the time to teach him anything besides how to turn on a grill.

And then me, who was dragged to knitting circles by my mom and grandma, who said, "it's good for you to learn a craft" but ignored all my interest in other things, because clearly those aren't Real Interests. Me who learned anyways, and then taught my little brother, because he wanted to be involved but was never brought with. Me who learned chess so I could play with my dad, who always said no, not today, but was always disappointed when my bro showed no interest. Me who borrowed my dad's sword art books, and his castle books, and toddled after him to his fencing clubs and through the hardware store and into his work shed to see what he was doing, who listened for hours when he'd tell me about medieval culture and building techniques and weapons and armor and knights, who watched all of the documentaries with him long after mom and my little bro got bored and wandered off to do other things.

And my dumbass parents were surprised that I named myself after a knight from arthurian legend when I came out as trans.

And at the same time, while my brother is teaching himself how to sew and how to cook and is making crafts and knitting, because he enjoys those things, they ask, "why didn't you tell us you wanted to learn?" and we both just sit there and share a look, because really? Where have you even been? Were you paying attention at all while you were raising us, or were you just on autopilot for 18 years?

I mean, yeah, there are still things we like that belong in the Assigned Gender Category. My bro likes his tools, and he's always been proud of his skill with computers and videogames. And I do like crocheting, and cooking, and makeup, now that i've found my own way of doing it. But those aren't things we like because we're supposed to like them. Those are just things we like.

But I think I figured out why I hated pink and purple so much as a kid. When every birthday and christmas present you get is the same color that you've never shown interest in before, and when everything in your room is the same bright happy shade of Something Someone Else Likes, you tend to cringe at the sight of it.

Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy's girl, I was told I would always try to sneak into the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say "you can't do that because you're a girl", they simply didn't entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn't like being in the garage much and wasn't all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.

Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There's the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there's the Gender Child.

My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life needed to play soccer because that's what a Boy Child does.

Growing up, I always felt like adults didn't actually know me as a person and they weren't interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they'd already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told "it's a girl".

When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don't like getting gifts that aren't something I picked out myself), it isn't actually about the gifts themselves. I don't even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.

[mywritersmind]

NOT SO HAPPY HOLIDAYS - LN4

↳pt.5

christmas special

part one - part two - part three - part four

summary : As the days start getting closer to Christmas, you find yourself even more comfortable with your previous enemy. In a drunken spirit and ego boosted from karaoke, Lando can’t control his words. Even when Max finds you two in bed together.

og summary : Spending Christmas with my brothers best friend isn’t my ideal way to celebrate. With my parents in the maldives and my ex calling me non stop, I was hoping for a small town cozy christmas! I was going to get that with Max and his girlfriend until Lando Norris worked his way into the mix.

listen up : dual pov! alcohol! swearing! drunk lando!

words : 3334

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Lando. Listen to me.” Oscar says over the phone, his voice registering in my brain but being distinctly distracted by two women taking instagram photos next to me.

“I am listening.” I mumble, watching Y/n turn and smile at the camera. My phone vibrates in my hand and I see that Oscar has requested facetime instead.

“What?” I look at the man who’s sitting in the sun and probably at the beach, “Can you pay attention for two seconds? I don’t want to be talking about work either.”

I sigh, turning away from the girls, “Can I ask you something?” I walk farther away just in case they can hear me.

Oscar groans at me still being off topic, “Shoot.”

“How did you know Lily fancied you?”

His brow jolts up, “I mean, We were pretty young, I just remember that she spoke to me a lot and she-” Lily pops her head in the call now.

“Don't listen to him, Lando! He was absolutely oblivious even though I was literally a giggling school girl around him.”

Oscar looks at her lovingly, “You were quite smiley.”

“Okay wrap it up lovebirds.” I roll my eyes.

Lily leaves and Oscar looks at me quizzically again, “So, who do you like so much that would possess you to ask that question?” I stay quiet for a moment, glancing back at Y/n who’s backlit by the sun, “Aren’t you with your family? Or Max and his girlfriend right?”

“No one. I’m just curious.” Deny deny deny.

He hums, “Wait… Doesn't Max have that sister you stalked all year-”

“Okay bye Oscar!”

He scrambles to get words in, “Wait we still need to talk about-”

I hang up on him.

⋆༺

Max and I have been kicked out by our the women. More like I was kicked out and Max was just craving a coffee. It’s not my fault I can’t cook!

After almost catching Y/n’s hair on fire, I was banished to the little coffee shop that’s been getting us through this week.

The barista hands us our coffees and one hot chocolate for Y/n. Max and I walk slowly to our car, looking at the scenery on the way. “I’m excited for Christmas.”

I smile as Max hums, “You’re awfully chipper.” He gives me a side eye and a smirk, to which I promptly shove him, “Ugh! I do not want to know!”

He laughs, “I know that P teases you about it, But I really do think a girlfriend would be good for you.”

I don’t just want a girlfriend. I want Y/n. I kick a rock at my feet, mumbling, “Yeah I doubt that.” I meant that he wouldn’t want me to have a girlfriend if it was his sister, just he scoffs.

“Think about it! This year was completely fucked and yeah a lot of good shit happened but imagine how much easier the bad shit would be if you were in love.”

“You’re disgusting. Us ten years ago would be gagging at this conversation.”

He’s smiling still, “Yeah and that’s because I am in love.” I roll my eyes at his cheesy ass, “How do you have no roster, mate? It’s honestly embarrassing.”

“Maybe I do.” I sip my coffee, “I don’t have to tell you everything.”

“Maybe i’m just hanging out with Y/n and P too much, their best friend girly vibes are fun.” He points to me, “Still, it’s break! Get your groove on!”

I walk faster, shaking my head. “Groove? I’m going to leave you in the snow.”

⋆༺

you

I’m in a mini dress in the snow. What could go wrong?

I slip five minutes out the door which makes Lando’s arm become my new best friend even though my faux fur coat keeps tickling him.

We may or may not have pregamed for the tiny local bar which has me slipping on ice. “Four jolly jolly shots please…” Lando reads off the bar's menu, laughing a bit.

He looks good. Like really really good. His curls are perfect as usual and when he leans over to talk to the bartender, his dark green shirt tugs against his arms.

My brothers arm goes around my neck, tugging me and laughing, “Merry Christmas, sis!”

“Let go of me you vermin!”

“Shots!” P sings, handing me mine.

“Cheers to us!” Max grins, holding his tiny glass up.

“Cheers to Christmas.” P smiles happily.

Lando taps his glass on the table along with us, winking at me, “Cheers.” We all down the weird peppermint alcohol and swiftly make our way to the dance floor.

We sing along to shitty music and dance together in a crowd of college kids home for break, and their parents.

Lando’s hand finds my waist and is quickly slapped away. He gives me a pouty look which I find annoyingly attractive and quickly turns it into a smirk.

I down my drink, spinning back to my friends and dodging a guy and his friends. “Hey!” The guy smirks and I accidentally laugh in his face, he looks about five years younger than me and is staring at my chest.

I find my friends laughing and drinking with a random man who sort of looks like santa.

“Y/n!” Lando puts his arm around me which I promptly pull off.

“Aren’t you busy trying to hook up with a tourist?” I blink at him while my brother and P are distracted.

He leans in a bit, “You’re a tourist, aren’t you?”

“You trying to get in my pants, Norris?” This makes him smile.

“I’m familiar with the area.”

I find myself at the bar again, but this time I order water. P and I giggle at the sight of Max and Lando just standing there looking lost without us.

“I’m really proud of you.” P says out of the blue.

I frown, “Thanks? I’m proud of you too.”

“I just mean… you’ve been through a lot.” I know what she means. My ex. “And you’re the best person I know.”

I smile, “I adore you, P.”

The truth is, my ex cheating really did break me. But I already knew something was wrong. I wasn’t being treated correctly and honestly breaking up with him was not on the top of my to-do list.

P was always there for me, my brother is a lot to handle and sometimes I just need a girl to talk to. That girl for me is P.

She pops back to her boyfriend while my water gets refilled. I swear this altitude is fucking with me, i’m so thirsty all the time.

“Hi.” I'm about to yell at the college guy who approaches me, until I realize there is no way this man is under twenty five.

“Oh! Hi.” I smile politely and tap the bar.

I clock his douchy attitude as soon as his ringed hand (which definitely came from shein) and patchwork tattoos land on the bar, clearly flexing.

“You’re gorgeous… Sorry, I just had to tell you!” He acts shy, like it’s horribly embarrassing to hit on. woman.

“Thank you…” Is all I can say before he continues.

“I’m Seth!” He’s australian… I think? He’s got short hair with dark skin that makes his eyes pop. “Are you visiting? I am.”

I nod and sip my water, “Yeah…”

“My girlfriend used to live here! My friends let me choose the place and…” He’s going on a long rant that I definitely did not consent to hear.

He’s loud in the way that i’m embarrassed to be heard with because he’s talking nonsense and trying to scoot closer to me with every word he speaks.

I bring my glass to my lips again, looking around then back to Seth who is still talking about his ex. Did I do something to offend the universe?

The hand on my hip scares me, but I don’t jump. I know the feeling too well by now. Lando’s smiling at the bartender, a protective arm around me, “Three green tea shots, thanks.”

He leans his hip against the bar, holding me close as my cheeks go red and I start chugging my water. Seth looks absolutely astonished, “Who’s your new friend, Sunshine?”

“Seth.” I say, swirling my straw around the cold glass.

“Hey man…” Seth looks scared. “I- I didn’t know she was taken.”

“She’s not.” He’s quick with it and I have to bite back my smile to contain myself from embarrassing Seth even more.

“Oh…” Seth hums, clearly wanting to go but I know Lando’s doing that thing where he states blankly at someone while smiling. “Well uh…”

“Choose your words carefully, Seth.” Lando slides him the shot then hands one to me. I decline and he downs it easily.

“Thanks.” He downs the drink with Lando, “And sorry.” Seth looks at me before scurrying off.

I turn to Lando, his hand never moving from my body, “Who knew you were so intimidating?

He shrugs, “I don’t mess around with the people I care about. Plus he just seemed like he was bugging you.”

“Quite talkative.” I smile softly as he laughs, “You’re good at the whole protective act.”

“Who said I was acting?” His face is serious when he says it, but immediately changes when he hears Max’s voice.

“Yo!” His hand drops to his side and he smiles at my approaching brother, “They have karaoke!”

P and Max end up on stage exactly two drinks later. I stick to water, my head already hurts from the others singing.

They're singing Ain’t No Mountain High Enough, and sort of slaying it. Max spins P as they both laugh and pretend they’re at some sort of concert.

“Please get up there!” I giggle with Lando, my hand on his arm as he smiles at me in that dreamy way he does so often.

“No way, Sunshine.” His eyes lined on my lips, his words a bit slurred.

“Please, Lan?”

A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, “What’ll you give me if I do?” My breathing quickens as he looks at me, drunk and so out of it that he looks like he’s about to kiss me.

I reach my arm out to fix the messy bit of his hair. His eyes follow my hand and drift down my arm back to me. There’s something so personal about the way he looks at me but it’s hard to explain.

He’s got many different expressions and maybe I'm just a bit self centered, but I swear he has some just for me.

He’s drunk now so all secrecy goes out the window. He’s lucky Max and P are singing so horribly on the tiny sticky stage.

“Whatever you want.” I pull my hand away, “When you’re sober, though.”

“I’m not even that many drinks in!” He scoffs in a whiny tone.

He’s five drinks in I think.

“But i’ll do whatever you say apparently.” His chair makes noise against the floors, practically pushing P and Max off the stage as his chosen music starts.

Linger, by the cranberries.

My smile grows as he starts, absolutely butchering the song immediately. He looks fucking free and absolutely ridiculous.

The microphone against his lips as he spins around and points to me, “You’ve got me wrapped around your fingerrrrrr!”

It was my favorite song in highschool.

He’s a terrible singer and incredibly drunk but knows all the lyrics by heart.

Max starts videoing and Lando flips him off, P is actually in tears and I feel a sense of calm and quiet happiness. It’s weird to think about, especially surrounded by sound and drunken people.

Still, I really do appreciate my friends in moments like these. I watch Lando on the stage again, his eyes are closed and he’s singing along quietly.

Most of the bar claps when he’s done, providing him false confidence even as he almost falls from the stage.

Lando slumps himself in the chair next to mine, Max and I speaking about old Christmas’ and how weird it is that so many things have changed.

P talks about her family traditions and how she’s happy we’re all together even if it is a bit unconventional.

Lando stays quiet, just hums along to the music and keeps his eyes closed. Max laughs at his friend, “Ready for bed, Bob?”

“I can drive back.” I sit up.

Max and P aren’t quite ready to go and assure me that they can take a cab. Lando, however is piss drunk and giggling at everything I say.

He holds onto my hand as we leave, the cold air hitting him like a wreck, “Ay!” He practically runs to the car, tries to get in the driver's seat, and finally gives in to me driving.

“I don't want to go back!” He complains as I drive off.

“We can… look at lights?” He nods eagerly and rests his head against my arm, his fingers drift up and down my arm, doodling invisible drawings.

I drive through the small neighborhoods, all quiet for the time of night. The lights are bright and nothing like where I actually live.

Lando slips his hand in mine, holding it tight and looking out the front window. I let him rub his thumb against my skin, acknowledging the goosebumps it sends up arm.

Maybe I let myself pretend like it means something more than Lando’s drunk touchy self.

His curls brush my bare arm because he requested I take off my coat and turn the heat up instead because it was ‘itching him’.

And I did it because something about Lando makes me just want to say yes.

“I wanna house like that.” He says, pointing to a medium sized white home. It’s got colorful lights all over and a tiny display of Rudolph in the yard.

“I like this one.” I take my free hand off the wheel for a second and point. It’s across the street and covered in white lights.

I keep driving as Lando turns the radio on which is playing Christmas music.

He hums along with the song that he most definitely doesn’t know.

His hand goes to my hair, twirling it around his finger as he looks up at me, doe eyed, “Can I have my reward now.”

“You’re nowhere close to being sober, love.”

He stops when I speak, whispering as if there’s a million people around, “You called me love.”

“You’re not even gonna remember this tomorrow.”

He gasps, “Tomorrow's Christmas eve! What a good present. You love me.” He hums and rests his head back against my shoulder.

“Keep dreaming, Norris.” I say while smiling.

We look at all the different lights, rating them and laughing. I mostly laugh at drunk Lando who can’t stop laughing.

Lando rolls down the window and even though it’s freezing, I let him. It’s silent out, except for our music on low.

“Do you like me?” Lando asks as I start back to our place.

I raise a brow, “Sure.”

“But do you?” He looks up at me but I don’t dare look down.

“I don’t hate you.”

It’s easier to get him into the house than it was to get him in the car. Besides a tiny slip, he laughs it off and instantly pulls his shirt off when we step inside the hot house.

We both stumble upstairs, I'm so tired that I could fall asleep on the floor. Yet I drag myself into the bathroom and remove my makeup and change into sweats and a hoodie.

Lando is in sweats now, leaning against the bathroom door as I brush my hair. “I can’t sleep.”

I laugh, “You haven’t even tried.”

“Come with me?” I shake my head, going to my own bed. He follows me still, catching my wrist and begging, “Please. I’m cold.”

“You have no shirt on.”

“I want you to.” He admits and for a second I wish he wasn’t so fond of Vodka.

I’m dragged into his bed, his arms wrapping around me quickly and humming against my hoodie, “You’re warm.” His hand goes to mine again, holding it.

“You’re gonna get us in trouble.” I say as I see the smirk on his face.

“The doors locked.”

His hand is still intertwined with mine when he looks up at me. I probably look terrible, but he just smiles.

“You’re really beautiful, Sunny.” His voice is clear and the softest it’s been in a while, especially while drunk.

He yawns and rests his head back on me. Lando whispers while his eyes are closed, i’m not even sure if he meant to say it out loud, but he does. “I hate you for it.”

It’s the first time his words really hit me.

“Why?” I whisper, staring up at the ceiling.

“You know.” And then he’s asleep and i’m stuck with a man cuddling me who I think I just might like more than I ever thought I could.

⋆༺

There’s few times in my life where I completely regret my life’s decisions. This might just be one of them.

Max is staring at us with his mouth open.

Max is staring at Lando’s shirtless self and his bare arm that’s around me!

I elbow Lando so hard that he wakes up with a groan. “Five more minutes.” He tries to pull me closer but I slap him again.

He opens his eyes this time, at first they’re narrowed at me as if I had the audacity to wake him up. Then he turns his head to what i’m staring at and promptly sits up straight.

“Goodmorning, Max!” He grins.

“Shut the fuck up.” My brother responds, Lando’s face goes slack and lays back down, covering his face with a pillow, “Is this why you two wanted to leave early yesterday?”

“No!” I say right as Lando says, “Yes!”

“I think I'm going to throw up.” Max starts pacing while I see P peek her head in from my room, surveying the situation as I mouth ‘help me’ and he leaves me.

“Chill out! Nothing happened.” I say while Lando moans and reaches for the water on his bedside table. “Right, Lando!?” I hit him again.

He sends me an annoyed look, “Right.” He takes a drink, wiping his mouth and looking at Max, “Trust me mate if something did happen she wouldn’t be wearing anything.”

I think he might still be drunk.

Max and I scream in unison. I climb out of the bed, my leg getting stuck in the bedsheet.

“I came to check if you two were still alive because it’s eleven in the morning, but Lando’s door was locked. Yours wasn’t and your room connector was wide open!” I roll my eyes and stomp into my room.

“His drunk ass practically dragged me in there and I wanted to sleep!” I shrug, putting on my slippers and pulling my bed head hair into a messy bun.

“My head is pounding, can you two be quiet!?” Lando says from the other room.

Max follows me down the stairs, “Nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened!” I echo, finding P in the kitchen and sending her a wide eyed look, “He was drunk, Max.”

I pour myself some coffee, crossing my arms as Max gives me a look. Lando comes thumping down the stairs, hoodie on now with his hair an absolute mess. “Guys…”

Max stops him, “If you make another sex joke Lan, I might kill you.”

“Hey!” He groans, taking my coffee from out of my hands and drinking it! I roll my eyes and pour myself another. “I was just going to say-”

“Choose your words very carefully, Norris.” I mumble.

“Happy Christmas Eve.” He raises his mug, smiling at all of us.

“Oh.” Max blinks as P lets out a little snort.

“Well then…” P smiles at me, “I think it’s time to cook!”

[doctorho]

dripping velvet, purring dark

Academy era Viktor x fem! curvy reader, 4.5k, no warnings only love in this house (ok there is a conversation about some people being idiots which can be interpreted as the reader getting unwanted attention at a party but it's nothing graphic or anything i promise and no-one is mean to her) also i made viktor horny and slightly subby because that's what the gremlins in my brain wanted. you're welcome. yeah! hi! not sure what this is, but here you go. the reader is described as she/her here (and curvy, and soft, and she is wearing an evening gown, because i wanted to think about pretty dresses). idk. have a thing. happy friday.

Viktor likes to think of himself as a person who's usually capable of focusing on things pretty well. On the task at hand. Give him a faulty circuit and he'll poke at it long enough to find the broken component, no problem. An error in the calculations? He'll find that missing minus sign or forgotten exponent, easy. He'll strip a wire in his sleep.

The task at hand now, though? The problem?

He had to sit through a whole evening of presentations at the academy end-of-year party, put on a polite face for the investors, and pretend not to care that one idiot after another was lining up to flirt with you while he was watching from the sidelines. You were wearing a dress that felt sinful to look at, and there was something primitive gnawing at the inside of his chest begging to be let out, and he had to just stand there and nod through the conversations, pretend he wasn't slowly boiling from the inside out.

And he was failing miserably. 

He’d known he was in trouble from the moment he saw you that night – all expensive fabric covering smooth curves and soft-looking skin, sparkling eyes and easy smiles, and he’d been done for. Before this, it’d been much easier to compartmentalize his feelings; before this, it'd been easier to ignore them. 

Before he’d kept his distance, emotionally and physically speaking, because, well, it’d been easier. He'd seen you around the Academy, all bubbling laughs and raw-honest radiant smiles and confident solutions, and he'd known that you looked…appealing, but he wasn't in the habit of holding up any illusions about what you might think of him in return. His place was in the dark dusty corner of the lab, turning over the ever-ticking problems, while you were out there shining like the sun. And sometimes you came by the lab, with new ideas or suggestions or just to borrow some equipment or ask about a shipment, and he had resigned to his role of staying at his desk pretending he wasn't burning to be closer to your orbit. 

But when he sees you in the low lighting of the party, leaning to the bar and laughing, something just breaks in him. And then he can’t pretend to ignore it any longer. And sure, maybe he’s a little bit drunk, it was easier to stand these events that way, but it still feels like a solid-honest truth in his bones that he wanted to get closer to you, and suddenly he couldn’t stand the conversation he was in the middle of. Because one of them – the sour idiots he’d catalogued in his head for the whole night, the stupid people trying to impress you with their embellished stories and inherited wealth who weren’t worth your time – one of them was circling you like a hyena again, smiling.

You were wearing a dark, floor-length gown that wasn’t, on a purely technical level, much different from what about 50% of the other guests were wearing. However, it seemed to create a significant caveat that even though there wasn’t anything indecent in the dress itself, seeing it on you made him feel like maybe he shouldn’t look at you for too long or he might spontaneously combust. There was a slit on the side that revealed a more than generous amount of leg when you walked, and his focus kept wandering from that to your silhouette, the soft curve of your hips, your chest, your face – no, that’s worse, don’t stare, she'll notice – and truly, he had to force himself to keep his eyes at least vaguely on the vicinity of the person who was currently talking to him. Something about statistics and return investment. Yes. 

He nods, pretending to look interested.

The dress drapes over your hips in soft little cascades, the fabric shimmering lightly as you moved, and something in his brain was itching, begging to run his fingers over it, to know what it feels like, to know what you feel like under it, all soft and warm and pliable under his fingers, and preferably sighing something into the crook of his neck, and–

“We'd like to get our investment back within a year,” the guy that's talking to him says – Viktor can't even remember his name, and he doesn’t really even care – and he just shifts his eyes back to the guy slowly. 

“A year?” he repeats, with the barest amount of feigned interest, and the guy goes off in a whole new tangent. Viktor shifts his posture, and lets his eyes glide over to where you were again. 

One of those idiots, one he thankfully doesn’t have the displeasure of knowing personally but who must be the son of some crooked diplomat, says something to you and you scoff through a smile, roll your eyes, and lean further into the counter at the bar. Viktor has to pretend to be present for his own conversation – yes, the new coating material for the wires was more heat-resistant, no, there was still the issue of mechanical stress, they were working on it – and you say something in answer to the current idiot (third of the night, he’d counted), and it is killing him that he doesn’t know what it is. 

You’d turned down the first two, from what he could tell. But this latest idiot was still talking to you, like he was in any way entitled to your company. And it's making something inside Viktor raise its hackles, and he doesn’t especially like feeling like that, because he couldn't justify feeling like that to himself in any tangible way, and then it all just boiled down to a resigned even if she deserves better than that i have no business dictating that for her. 

He's just about to focus on the conversation he was supposedly participating in again when something happens. He can't make out the details, but imbecile number three seems to lean way too close to you, says something, and smiles in a way that makes something cold creep down the back of Viktor's neck. And your expression coldens, too, and you say something to him, and turn away, more rigid than you'd been the whole evening. 

“Excuse me,” Viktor is saying to the Investment Guy before he can fully think it through, his own voice feeling distant in his ears, and then he's walking to the bar. 

You're alone – the idiot had had the sense to leave you alone quickly, at least. That's good. Viktor isn't sure what he's doing, but then he's leaning to the bar next to you and ordering another drink and trying to look like he isn't thinking too hard about what to do next. 

“Whatever he just proposed to you,” Viktor says slowly, looking over the bar instead of directly at you, “I assure you you can do better.”

He can hear you take a deep breath, shift a little, and sigh it out with what sounded like almost a laugh. 

“Yeah,” you agree, “I don't know what it is about people like that that makes them think they can just…” You sigh again, and make a hand gesture towards the room. ”You know.”

“Unfortunately,” he answers, resigned, “yes. I do.” 

He gets his drink and thanks the bartender, and then leans to the counter too, mimicking your posture, holding the drink and letting it swirl around in his glass. “Have you talked with anyone actually worth your time tonight?” 

You hmm. Then, “there was a little girl earlier that told me some fascinating things about insect metamorphosis.” You say casually. 

And Viktor laughs. Without meaning to, he laughs, and you smile in response, visibly relaxing a little.

“I don't think she was on the guest list though.” You continue. 

He hums in response, and rearranges his grip on the handle of his cane. “Sounds much more interesting than the conversations I've been in tonight.”

“I know,” you answer, and he can hear the smile in your voice, “you think we could swap out one of the main speakers with her?” 

He hmms again, looking over the stage thoughtfully. “I think it would count as a public service,” he nods a little, considering the list of speakers yet to come, “what do you think, who'd be a good target?”

You shift in your place, looking over the same list of speakers, plastered over the walls on both sides of the stage. “The financial talk,” you answer, “Mr. Ross. I'd much rather listen to insect facts than another boring talk about investing.”

Viktor nods. “You distract him, I'll whack him unconscious?” he offers, and you laugh. You laugh, and it warms something in him. 

“And then what?” you continue, still smiling, and he has to look away to keep his composure. 

He shrugs. “Eh,” he answers, “we drag him to a bathtub somewhere and act like he just passed out there?" He shrugs, "I happen to know three ways to get out of this room that I'm pretty sure we could use unnoticed.”

“Uh-huh,” you answer, “and then we just find the girl and ask her if she wants to talk about bugs for half an hour. Easy.”

“Exactly,” he agrees, “and then we congratulate ourselves for making the evening better for everybody.”

"Except maybe Mr. Ross."

"No," he counters, looking over the crowd, "I think he would prefer a nice little nap. Surely not even he wants to hear himself talk all the time." He takes a sip of his drink, "and I think waking up in a bathtub would be a nice change of pace to the rumors of other places he seems to have a habit of waking up in after events such as these."

“Good point,” you shift in your place, settling to lean to the counter a bit closer to him. “Perfect plan. But why'd you get to whack him unconscious and not me?”

Viktor blinks. Lifts one eyebrow. “Because you are by far more distracting than I am,” he answers, “and I thought the plan could use the distraction.”

“I don't think that's true,” you answer, “I think you're plenty distracting on your own.”

Now, he lets himself look at you. Really, properly look at you, and not even half-trying to hide it. You're smiling now, shoulders relaxed, holding your drink with fingers wrapped loosely around it, and in the warm lights of the bar there's a golden glow on your skin, and something breathless at the bottom of his stomach is aching to get closer to you, to touch you, to see if his hand would fit on your waist as well as he thinks it would, to see how you would react to that, if he could make you smile in a different way, what sounds he could get you to make for him–

“Agree to disagree,” he says, averts his eyes, and takes a sip of his drink. 

Tries to tell that wild-hungry purring thing in him to behave. 

Someone reasonable comes to talk to you – and it's about work, which is…something, probably, he has to stop himself from thinking it's better than those earlier idiots, because who's he to decide that for you? He gives you a casual wave and a nod as you depart with a smile and get swept up in the conversation about new ideas and solutions and this-new-thing you've been looking at. And he watches as you start talking excitedly, all golden and glittering, easy conversation and confident smiles, and quietly (not-so quietly) he concludes that maybe you hadn't had many worthwhile conversations with any of the guests that night because you were the most worthwhile person in there to talk to. 

He stays there sipping his drink and wondering what would be the closest appropriate time to slip out. He'd made an appearance, and technically nothing could be expected from him beyond that point. Sure, Jayce might tell him he could've stayed a bit longer, he could use the support, but nothing dramatic would happen. 

The party drones on, and he makes no effort to move – and really, he tries not to think about it too much, but that was at least in part because he wanted to keep looking at you. He promptly ignores this, even when you're laughing at something someone else said and that heavy-dark-purring something at the bottom of his stomach doesn't like it very much. 

Someone comes to ask for his opinion on something, and with a tiny sigh, he lets them pull him into the loop of conversations again. Yes, we are trying to simplify the design, no we can't cut back from the materials, they are what they are for a reason. 

Somewhere around his third ‘Why would you think that?’ of that particular conversation, he's had enough. People were stupid, and he's had enough. He's just trying to come up with ways to get out of the conversation preferably without starting a scandal of some sort, when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turns around to look at who it belongs to, and then everything in his head is quiet for a moment. 

“Hey,” you say, smiling, “sorry to interrupt, but can I steal you away for a moment?” you ask, slipping your hand feather-light down his arm, and he has to suppress a shiver. 

Viktor furrows his brows and opens his mouth, and then, like an idiot, says nothing. But he turns to leave, thankful for the window of opportunity.  

“You remember that thing we talked about before?” you continue as you steer him away from the earlier group smoothly, “I found someone who's interested in those three escape routes you had up your sleeve.” 

“Who?” he asks, because that's the only thing he can think of. You've linked your arm with his, and you're leaning on him, and you're soft and warm and you smell good, and he doesn’t trust his ability to form a full sentence. 

“Me,” you answer, “and judging by how you just looked out there,” you continue, “you.”

Viktor swallows, and something in his brain purrs at the idea. 

“This way,” he says, nodding towards an old stage exit, and honestly, he doesn’t even care why you want to leave, he's just grateful for the distraction and the company and drinking in every warm square inch of skin contact that you're willing to give him, even if it is just walking with your shoulder pressed against his. 

If it turned out to be a plot where you actually wanted to whack someone unconscious, he'd worry about that later. For now he was just happy to leave, and happier that you were leaving with him. 

It's easy to slip away from the crowd, and into the space between the stage curtain and the wall, if you know where you're going. You effortlessly fall a bit further from his side but keep his hand on yours, letting him pull you along, and quietly he wonders how and why and holy shit. He decides not to question it though, and keeps walking through the dim space between the cold old wall and the cascades of warm heavy velvet curtains. 

“Do you want to leave the party,” he asks, voice quiet now that the background buzz of people was muffled by the curtain, “or just get away from it?” 

You hmm behind him, clearly through a smile, and he makes the mistake of looking back at you. Surrounded by the dark red velvet curtains and only slivers of light from each side, his head – and the rest of his body – get entirely the wrong idea of what you're doing in there, because you look like a goddess in the small dim space, and he might crumble into ashes if he keeps looking at you, or he might do something stupid like pull you closer and press you into the wall, to see if your eyes would widen, if you'd gasp from the cold wall, if he could find other ways to make you gasp–

so he turns his eyes away and keeps talking. 

He quickly finds he has to clear his throat before he can do that. “There is a staff entrance that goes past the kitchen a little ways further,” he says, and motions forwards, “or there is a disused indoor balcony surrounding the stage. You would be able to see the party, but it'd feel…removed.”

You lean closer, close enough that when your voice is muffled by the surrounding velvet, it feels like you're speaking right in his ear, and he has to swallow and remind himself that that's just situational coincidence, nothing more. 

“Why do you know so many ways to get out of here?” you ask, “You sneak out a lot?” 

“I am a fan of interesting architecture,” he answers, “and not as much a fan of pretentious social gatherings.” 

“Fair,” you answer, then lean your chin on his shoulder, and he feels like his spine might spontaneously melt. “In your expertise, what would you recommend?”

“Well,” he says, trying to make it sound casual and like he wasn't breathless at all, “I think the balcony has some fairly interesting architecture.” And the lights of the party would look pretty from there. And you'd both get a breather away from the crowd. And he'd get to keep talking to you a little bit longer. And, as selfish as the thought felt, he couldn't deny it; he'd get to keep having you to himself for a little bit longer. 

“Show me the balcony,” you smile, and he obliges. Happily, he obliges. So he pulls you into a narrow staircase, and then, up. 

At the end of it there is a room that could, only by technical definition alone, be called a balcony – it was more like a hole carved into the wall, having at some point been used for seating or equipment space at events and concerts, and now just served as half-forgotten extra storage. It had, he supposed, once upon a time looked like the banquet hall did, all smooth surfaces and warm lights and thematically switched-out decorations, but now it was mostly the standard red velvet and dark wood and light marble, forgotten by the party and some of the golden light from the hall spilling into it by pure coincidence. There were velvet curtains on each side of the room, and you drop his hand to go look over the railing, and down at the party. 

His hand instantly feels cold without yours in it, but he tries his best to ignore this, and follows you to look down at the party, too. 

It looks much smaller from up there. Less chaotic. 

“I didn't know there was a space like this here.” You say quietly, “can they see us?” 

“Part of the design,” he answers, “you're not supposed to notice these spaces unless people want you to. Good place to hide extra orchestra pieces and make it feel like the sound is coming from nowhere. And–” he looks over at the people, colorful and mingling, “no, they can't. Not unless you want them to.” Then, he smiles, just a little. “But they'll be able to hear us, if we direct our voices upwards and wait for things to quiet down there first.”

You turn to look at him. 

“Sloped ceilings,” he explains with a shrug, “again, good for a hidden orchestra accompaniment.” 

“But they can't hear us talking?*

“Not over themselves,” he answers, “ironic, I know.”

You hum thoughtfully and turn around, with your back to the railing, and then you look at him and he needs to kick his brain back in line. You were gorgeous in the dim lighting, all relaxed and smiling, and–

He grips the handle of his cane a little tighter. 

“Good,” you say, and the way you say it – all quiet and warm and liquid – makes something in him purr again, entirely against his better judgement. 

“Why is it good?” he asks, because he has to hold on to some semblance of logic here, because otherwise he might just vaporize out into the atmosphere. 

“Why do you think?” you ask, slowly turning to face him, and oh that just isn't fair. You're just there, just a warm breath of space away, all soft and pretty and languid–

He doesn’t know what to say, so he goes with what feels like the safest course of action. 

“In case we want to plot any more ways to violently derail the evening's program?”

You exhale a small laugh and lean back. 

And then you lift a hand on his chest, and he's pretty sure his heart might be overheating soon. 

“Sure,” you answer, “that.” You inch closer, and Viktor is having a hard time remembering how to breathe. “Or anything else we might not want them overhearing.”

“Like?” He exhales, careful not to break the moment, and then you smile, warm and private and for him, and his insides liquify into warm, honey-thick goo, and oh, he’s not going to recover from this. 

“Like,” you repeat slowly, and then you push yourself away from the balcony railing, just slightly, into the side of the wall covered by the velvet curtain, and he lets you pull him with you, he's not stupid. His brain – along with the rest of his body – might be in the process of actively melting, but he's not stupid. If you wanted to pull him into a shadowed, velvet-covered corner, he would follow no questions asked, especially on a night like this when his insides were buzzing and you looked like that. When you looked at him like that. You smile again, and stop moving when your back hits a wall, and then you pull him just close enough to whisper into his ear. “...Anything else we might not want them overhearing.” you repeat, and, yeah, Viktor is close to becoming the best documented case of human combustion in recorded history. 

In the dim lighting, he searches your eyes into his, and you watch him, waiting, radiating heat between him and the velvet-covered wall. He's not sure why you were acting like this, but all signs were pointing towards you wanting the same thing he did, and he's not sure what he did to get this lucky, but with his every cell buzzing and vibrating and keening over to get closer, he wasn't about to let the opportunity pass. 

He wants to ask ‘why me’ or ‘are you sure’ but what comes out is a broken, desperate whisper of a “can I touch you?”, and you answer with a grin and with your fingers tangled to the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. 

“Yes,” you breathe, “please.”

And really, he wouldn't have thought it would be so simple, but it's the please that does him in – just one whispered word and his brain short-circuits in an overflowing flash of white-hot need. Need to trigger that again, need to please, and need to finally give in to the pleasure waiting to boil. And then it all comes rushing out; the hunger. 

His hands are on your waist in an instant, and his cane clatters to the ground as he leans his weight on you and the wall and for a moment, he has the sense to hope the curtains don't come tumbling down, and they don't, which is good enough for him, because then he can let go of that particular worry and focus solely on finding your lips to his and making the most of every second of this that you're willing to give him. 

The sensations hit his brain like flashes of bright light; how soft you are under his fingers, like he'd hoped, the fabric smooth and silky, giving away easily under his touch. How warm you are, warm and breathing in a fluttered little gasp, the dusty old velvet mixing in with your sweet scent, and then when he gets his lips on you–

After that it's just golden-dark-velvet-honey-thick bliss. You breathe out a small sound that drips down his spinal cord and goes straight to the purring pit at the bottom of his stomach, and he swallows it with a hungry, greedy, desperate groan that comes from somewhere deep inside his chest, and his head is swimming with warm and real and soft and for me–

He is happily overloading his brain with this, and he doesn’t even care. He presses closer to you and you exhale another sweet little sound that makes him bare his teeth, and then his lips are on your neck and he doesn’t know anything except that he wants you to keep making those sounds and he likes the way your hands tangle in his hair and tug. 

“Tell me what you want,” he mutters to the skin of your neck, pulling you closer by the waist, and absolutely relishing in the way your chest rises and falls with short little pants he can hear you take in and out. In and out, and as he tugs at your waist again, just a bit closer, and drags his teeth against your pulse lightly, one of those exhales turns into a sweet little whine. 

He grins against your skin. 

He doesn’t waste the time or energy pretending he isn't an absolute mess over you, right now – his own breathing ragged and fast and his heart hammering in his ears, his whole body buzzing with want – but that didn't mean seeing you react that way didn't make him want to purr. 

Didn't make his insides heat up with I did that. I got her like this. She made that sound for me. For me. It's mine. 

You take a breath, slow and rugged, and then you tug him towards one of the velvet-covered seats. And he moves like he's floating, letting you guide him, because what else is he going to do? You tug him into the seat and he sits on it, gladly, and stays there looking up at you with his eyes wide and only half-lidded and his heart hammering, waiting for more. 

You give him another one of those small, private, knowing smiles, your eyes hazy, and then you step to stand right in front of him. 

And then you hover over him, just waiting for him to pull you into his lap. He does, because he is selfish and greedy and burning, and he's pretty sure he's going to implode if he doesn’t get that delicious pressure on him soon, and his hand fits your waist perfectly, and then when when you do straddle him, your hips pressing down on his, he whines. He lets out a breathless little whine, he can feel it in the base of his spine, and it makes that hunger in him want more. 

“Only the voices directed upwards travel down there, right?” you ask, voice quiet and dripping right into his ear and pooling at the bottom of his stomach. 

He swallows. “Yes.” 

You hum thoughtfully, and press your body closer to his, all soft and warm and perfect, sinking your lips down to his neck and he shivers, instinctually tilting back his head with a sigh, exposing more of his neck to you. 

“Better keep quiet, then.” 

[ripplestitchskein]

What I loved most about Sinsmas is how well it’s setting up what will be the probable trajectory of Season 3 while resolving the conflicts of Season 2.

Octavia and Blitz are set on a similar path, realizing that Stolas needs more than they can give him, but not because they aren’t enough but because he has a mental illness. This conflict is setup explicitly to tie in with Barbie, Blitz will realize that whatever happened probably wasn’t as much his fault as he thinks, she just needed more than he could give alone. So I stand by the speculation that resolving Stolas and Blitz next season is going to be directly paralleled by Blitz and Barbie but will at the same time bring Octavia and Blitz into an accord.

Stolas will be getting several more reality checks and will spiral pretty hard, but I am holding on to faith that we will get a happy medium between getting proper treatment and reconciling his relationship with Blitz. I think Sinsmas did a great job setting up him as not realizing his continued unhappiness, even though he got everything he wanted with Blitz, is not a reflection on their relationship being ill suited but because he does have a mental illness that he is not treating properly or sharing with those around him. Blitz sidestepping the horse backstory while Stolas pulls back on asking him for help getting his meds was a perfect and succinct way to show this upcoming conflict.

Just excellent visuals with that all around. Blitz being the one to snuggle and try to be close to him while Stolas is the one closed off and refusing to relent was really solid. I would bet on this being the opening imagery of S3, some rehashing of Blitz trying but Stolas remaining closed off and that leading to a split that is slowly repaired over the course of the season, ending with them finally embracing each other.

The subtle cues from the imps of hell during the domesticity montage also great. Just this hatred Hell has for Stolas and how they will have to fight to be together. Like this was echoed in the fight with Andy as well, Stolas succumbing to being swallowed alive by a monster and Blitz going after him. Depression metaphor wow. The fight itself could be echoed in S3 too but this time with them working together.

And then everything with Millie, like her still not being on the same page when it comes to a family with kids while Moxxie and Blitz are opposed. Her reassuring Moxxie that her not wanting this doesn’t mean she doesn’t love him, and how that will play through S3.

Seeing Loona taking more responsibilities and stepping in for her father, seeing her with friends excited about board games. Too cute. I don’t know where she’ll go in S3 but I love her development so far and how they’ve taken a quieter approach to her parallels with Octavia and Stolitz.

Just a really great season finale.

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

"And there's a lady with tattoos as well. She plays tag with us with her big cat wolves ." That sounds like Kinie Ger. "She told us to talk to you guys in your dreams so that way you will stop having bad dreams about what happened." Said the boy as the kids nodded with a smile.. But then the boy turns sad, "Though...I did see my parents but I want to see them one more time before I go.."

Daichi kneels down hearing this, "I will tell your parents..." He said as he went to pat on the Zilla plushie, "Thank you for coming here and telling us that. I-" He has no words what to say to them. "You didn't scare us. We were scared but not because of you. We were scared of the bad things that meaning was doing." He said, referring Meko to as the meanie. "Now it's over, your nightmare is over." He said. "That said, thank you." Daichi smiles. "I think that place you're going to is going to be better place than here."

'Y.Yeah, we were told from the nice man and lady. They were so nice...I will miss them and the other nice friends too. Again, we are happy and grateful you helped us. And if you do, tell them we miss them and hope they are alright....we might be gone but our moms always says things to show we are close to them....' another girl said softly that the kids looks to Daichi again before Megumi relaxed seeing this. Even the bunnies were happily hopping around them.

However, he blinks seeing the kids glowing. It was close for them to go. That's when the group of kids go and carefully hug Daichi or around him while smiling.

'Thank you Mr. Daichi...and thanks to your friends. Thank you so much for helping us. You really are a hero to us. All of you..' the Boy said smiling but tears were seen as the kids were crying happily hugging him. Even one shy girl was gently petting Eito to say thank you to him.

"Yeah, what's up?" Daichi looks over to see something. Eito tweets as he notices this too. He looks over to see the Zilla plushie that looks pretty old and it was set down.

"Uh...did I bring a Zilla plushie here by accident? I think I did, right?" He asked Megumi. Eito tweets. "Wait...are you saying there's something with Zilla and there is some cursed energy in it?"

"..I..don't think you did. Didn't they give you guys new ones?" Megumi said remembering.

Then he blinks to see Zilla tilt his head, "What is that?"

The Zilla plushie didn't move before some energy was showing around and growing now. Megumi was about to summon the rabbits to stop whoever it was. Maybe a curse was lingering around them. Was it a danger?! However, he got his answer seeing a little boy. It seems to be holding the Zilla plush but he saw the Rabbits to bend down looking at them. The Rabbits blinks looking at the spirit before the little boy waves at them.

".....Wait....isn't that one of the kids?" Megumi asked but saw the boy look at Megumi and Kisho while hugging the Plush. That's when a few more shows up showing the other kids. Some boys and girls.

"?!?"

'Ummmm.....please don't be scared.....we....we wanted to say something before we went to rest for the last time......' the boy said but he saw the other kids looking at them.

'We...We wanna say thank you again..for setting us free. It was scary after that meanie...did to us but...we are all now free and being watched over by Mr. Choko. He said we would find you guys here....to say thank you...' he said softly. His brown eyes were dull but the others were nervous.

'Though...we...he said we will be taking a long nap and maybe go to a better place after....we all can't wait to go somewhere new....but....a good nap does feel nice.....' he said before hugging his plushie.

'We even said sorry to your friends.....we didn't mean to cause trouble for you all....we were scared...but we are sorry for it..' a little girl said hiding behind the boy. 'We hope you can forgive us for scaring and hurting any of you....we didn't mean to. That's why we are saying sorry to you to show we didn't mean it. I just hope we didn't scare the others...though, the pink haired man with tattoos on his face was really nice. He was even kind to read us a story when we visited a few hours ago..' she said speaking of Sukuna.

[borathae]

Kiss the Cook

“Yoongi loves to cook for you. You love to watch him as he does and soon you can’t take it anymore. You have to kiss him or you will implode.”

Pairing: Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life, domestic Fluff

Warnings: cutie!Yoongi, Yoongi being a sexy cook, i said what i said, he blushes!, she feeds him some tangerines <3, as she sits on the kitchen counter, making out on said counter, Yoongi in a woolen jumper, idk but this is so hot to me and therefore needs a warning, they’re grossly in love!!!, i want what they have #bigsad

Wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: i love him, i love them, i love her, i love this :( enjoy besties, oy!Yoongi is going to be the fucking death of me fjdjasf he is such a cutie ❤ ps: does a story sometimes make you feel so single or discontent with your current love life that you want to claw your own eyes out? yeah. this is that story for me. i want what they have fuxkxk they feel so mature and settled and :( grrr spreading negativity all around me grrrr

You invited Yoongi over for dinner and wine. Which means that he comes over to your place to cook while you watch him and sip on wine. Now, this isn’t because you are lazy or you are forcing him to cook. On the contrary, it was Yoongi’s idea. He loves cooking for you, so you learned, and these little dinner dates have become a regular thing in your relationship.

And it is perfect. You get to see him and talk to him. He gets to do something he loves whilst talking to you. And at the end of it, you can share the yummiest dinner ever and experience a giddy tingle in your stomachs.

You invited him over tonight for exactly such a dinner date. You dressed up in a thick jumper and some woolen socks and even did your hair.

It has been snowing rather vividly all day, turning the roads into one powdery white plane with the rest of the world. The weeping willow in front of your sunroom is bending under the weight of the snow and the frozen stream is covered under a heavy layer of it as well. It is such a beautiful view, making you happy to be inside where it is warm and cozy.

Levi, your cute little cat, hasn’t left his spot by the fireplace all day. He spends most of his winter days napping where it is warm or watching the very few winter birds eat from your bird feeder. He will not leave for outside, however, that much is sure. It is way too much work to soil his good fur with sticky, wet snow.

You check the time again. Ten past eight. Yoongi should have been here by eight. You pace in front the sunroom windows, looking at the faint lights where his house might be. He decorated the outside with lots of Christmas lights and on the nights where you miss him, you like to stand in the sunroom and look up at the lights. Whenever you do, it feels as if he was right there with you. 

Tonight however, the view makes you uneasy. Where is Yoongi and why isn’t he here yet? Did he slip and hit his head? Did a huge chunk of snow fall on him and he is now buried alive somewhere? Is he stuck somewhere? Did he forget?

Nervously biting your own nails, you hurry to the front door to take another peek outside. 

“Oh, shit!” Yoongi exclaims, stumbling back and almost dropping the grocery bags he is carrying under his arms.

You flinch back too, not having expected him to literally stand right in front of the door in the midst of ringing your bell.

“Sorry, you scared me”, he apologises for his cursing. He is bundled into the thickest winter coat ever, wearing a beanie, scarf and gloves with it. His snow pants are covered in snow up to his thighs, his winter boots are basically white from all the snow. The last few inches of his coat are opened. Holly, wearing a little beanie as well, is peeking out from it. Yoongi must have bundled him up in it to keep him warm. The view is adorable.

“You scared me too. I wanted to check if I could spot you. Come in”, you say, stepping out of the doorway.

“Yeah, sorry for being late. I underestimated the height of the snow. I had to fight my way down here without falling on my butt. I waddled like I was ninety.” 

“No worries, I’m just so happy that you’re here now and that you’re safe. I already pictured the worst scenarios ever.” 

Yoongi chuckles, “I survived. Barely, but I survived.”

You laugh. He is so funny, making you laugh again when he struggles with undressing.

“Wait. Let me take the bags so you have your hands free.”

“Thanks.” 

“Of course, I’ll carry them to the kitchen if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead, I’ll be with you soon.”

You are in the midst of unpacking the groceries when Yoongi and Holly join you in the kitchen. Holly greets you first, jumping up your leg and barking excitedly. 

You coo, picking him up to let him lick your face. 

“I missed you too, you little stinker. Aw big kissies, yes big kissies.”

“He really missed you”, Yoongi says, walking to you. 

“Yeah, I missed him too.” You hand him Holly. “And I missed his dad even more. Hey there, handsome”, you say, stealing a kiss. 

Yoongi smiles into it, rubbing your waist as the kiss breaks.

“Hey there, beautiful. I missed you too.” He says and then takes a step back to set down Holly. The little toy poodle instantly sets off to explore your home and look for Levi. 

Yoongi studies your get-up, “I love what you did with your hair. It suits you.”

“Thank you, heh. I tried something new.”

“It’s nice, really beautiful.”

“Thankies. Uhm, wine?” You offer. “I might have already started without you because I was picturing you dying somewhere.”

He laughs, “what a relaxing thing to do. I won’t say no to some wine, thank you.”

You prepare him a glass, then cheer with him. He enjoys it with a hum. Afterwards he touches your hip and kisses your cheek. You lean into it, smiling from ear to ear. He is always so gentle with you. You love it so much.

“I hope that you’re hungry. I’m making risotto tonight”, Yoongi says.

“Yes risotto! I love risotto. I haven’t eaten since twelve because I wanted to be really hungry tonight.” 

Yoongi smiles and begins. He puts on the apron you made for him and rolls up his sleeves. Well, at least he tries to because you stop him before he can.

“Wait, let me.”

He gazes at your face as you work, cheeks slightly flushed and heart racing. 

“Thanks”, he whispers, trying oh so hard not to expose how giddy he actually feels. Spoiler alert, he feels very giddy. You are always so tender with him. He loves it so much.

Yoongi is wearing a brown jumper made out of the softest wool. It is warm and sits on his body in the most perfect of ways. His chest and back are defined in it, but he still looks snuggly. You feel so attracted to him that it is difficult not to bite him. In an adoring way of course. 

It also isn’t helping that he is wearing your favourite cologne and a watch which really fits his wrist. Once his sleeves are rolled up, you can’t help but feel up his arms just once. You trace his veins, squeeze him and play with his fingers.

Yoongi chuckles lazily, closing his hands around yours.

“Is this still part of the service?” 

“No, this was for me. You look really sexy in this jumper.”

He smiles and pulls you close to steal a kiss. You give it to him with a fluttering heart, gazing deep into his eyes once it breaks. He has the most beautiful eyes.

“I put it on for you. Because you once said that you like me in a jumper.”

“I do. I could bite you, I’m serious.”

“Please don’t”, he laughs and pecks your cheek, “I’ll be quick with dinner, promise. No biting needs to happen.”

“Maybe a little bit of biting.”

He laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“If I knew that I would be dating a biter, I might have reconsidered”, he jokes, busy with setting up some pans.

“You like it. Don’t lie”, you say and sit down on the kitchen counter.

“Maybe I do.”

You snicker, picking up a tangerine to peel it as he cooks.

And so it begins. One of the coziest and most beloved date activity as a couple. He cooks while you watch him. There are only a few things better than this. 

You have the radio playing. Christmas songs because it is almost time for the holidays. The tangerine fills the air with a cozy scent and the wine tastes especially good. Whenever you and he aren’t lost in conversation, you can listen to Yoongi hum to the songs on the radio. He has a very nice singing voice. Deep and warm. You could listen to it for hours. Just as you could listen to him talk for hours.

“How are your legs by the way? Did the snow soak through your snow pants?” you ask him, staring at his butt. 

It isn’t your fault, he is wiggling it to the music. It is his fault that you have to take a sneaky look.

“Mhm? No, my legs are fine. The snow didn’t soak through.”

“That’s good to hear. How was your day?”

“It was good. I fixed some things in the upstairs bathroom and started with the chaulking.”

Yoongi is still renovating his house. It is a very big project and he isn’t stressing himself, so it’s been taking some time already. You don’t mind. It just means that he will have to stay over more often whenever the building site is too dirty. Quite frankly, a part of you secretly wishes for the renovations to take forever just so he will keep coming over to sleep in your bed. You really love having him sleep in your bed. Not only because he is a total cuddlebug (don’t spread these news to anyone, he is very shy about it) or because he always smells so good, but also because you feel safer with him close. 

“Chaulking? Wow, this sounds like process”, you say.

“Yeah, it’s been going really well lately.” He turns for a moment. “And you? Did you have a good day?”

“I had a really good day. I made some progress on the scarf and then did some yoga. Tangerine?” 

Yoongi closes the distance, snacking on the slice you’re offering.

“This sounds like a good day. You have to be finished soon, don’t you?”

“Yeah, it's almost finished, which is very exciting if you asked me.”

You are currently knitting a scarf and have been regularly sending updates to Yoongi via text messages. His reactions to the messages vary from “good job!” all the way to the very rare and precious thumbs up emoji. He is honestly such a cutie.

“I can imagine. Do you have a new project in mind after you finish the scarf?” Yoongi takes one more slice of tangerine before he returns to the stove. 

While you begin telling him about all the knitting project ideas you have. You don’t leave out any details. The material of the yarn, the design, the colours, even what kind of stitches you plan on using. And Yoongi listens gladly, he asks questions and reacts with his very endearing version of enthusiasm. It means so much to you. Being loved by him is so fulfilling. You feel so important, as if your existence has purpose. There is not one thing about you which isn’t important to him or which you feel like you have to hide from him.

It might sound strange, but being loved by him is so freeing. You feel so whole and so happy and you love him so much in return. 

Yoongi steals one more slice of tangerine, staying close to you afterwards as he slices some mushrooms for the risotto.

“And what about you? Any new music projects you are working on?” you ask him, switching your adoring gaze between his face and his hands. He has such sexy hands.

“Yes, so many”, he says, nodding his head.

“Tell me everything.”

You listen to everything he has to tell you, gazing at him with the biggest heart eyes. He is so interesting and exciting. His hobbies are so wonderful to listen to. As much as you love talking to him, you love listening just as much.

Yoongi feels content with you. He feels utterly and completely happy. There is nothing missing with you. When he is with you, he feels whole and like himself. There is not even the littlest thing about him he feels like he has to hide from you and whenever he comes out of one of his accidental monologues about his interests, he isn’t met with boredom but enthusiasm and questions. Truly, his nerdy little heart swells thrice its size when he is with you. 

A moment of silence follows after you and he exchanged interests. Happy and jazzy Christmas music fills it. Yoongi picks up the cutting board, carrying it to the pan so he can sauté the mushrooms in some butter. He adds the rice afterwards, seasoning it before he pours white wine into the pan. He pours some of the wine in his glass afterwards, closing the distance to clink glasses with you. 

“To this evening”, he says, smiling one of his pretty, soft smiles he always does.

“To this evening and to you, the best boyfriend ever.” 

“Be quiet”, he mumbles and drinks from his glass, looking to the side shyly. He blushes.

“Never. You need to know”, you say and lean in to munch on his cheek. 

“Hey. No biting”, he laughs as he complains, moving back. 

“Mhm, then how about I kiss the cook instead?” you say, setting the wine aside to pull him closer.

He lets you tug him between your legs, smiling at you and setting the wine aside. His eyes fall to your lips, his hands dance along a path which consists of your waist, hips and the side of your thighs.

“You’ve got a minute before I have to get back to the risotto”, he says.

“Then let me make the best of it”, you say, pulling him into a kiss. 

How you make the best of this one minute. You kiss him as if you missed him for a million years, as if you needed him for survival, as if his lips are all you ever wished for. It might only be a minute, but Yoongi comes out of this kiss with slightly wobbly knees and a racing heart. His cheeks are flushed, his lower lip tingles as you end the kiss by biting on it gently. 

“What was that for?” his voice is raspy, his eyes foggy as they gaze at your lips.

“Just felt like it”, you whisper, playing with his soft hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Should we like, I don’t know, should I remove the pan from the stove for a moment?” 

You laugh, scrunching your nose. You know what he is insinuating, stomach tingling at the aspect of it.

“And why should you do that?” you tease him, tinting his cheeks an even deeper pink. He curses under his breath, giving your hips a gentle squeeze.

“You drive me crazy, you know. First kissing me like this and then acting innocent.”

“Shouldn’t you check on the rice?”

Yoongi lets out a whine of discontent, but breaks away from you to stir the rice. He glances at you. You retort the glances, heart racing like crazy. His hair is a little messy because you played with it as you kissed him. His lips are slightly puffy and flushed pink. Quite frankly, he has never looked more attractive than he does right now in your little kitchen wearing the black apron you made for him as he cooks you dinner and seems just a little ruffled from your kiss. 

You lift the glass of wine to your equally as puffy lips, giving him an eye smile as you sip the sweet alcohol. Yoongi blushes, shifting his gaze to dinner. He rolls his lower lip between his teeth mindlessly while his hands are busy with pouring chicken stock over the rice. 

You and he both feel the electric sparkles in the air. The feeling is addicting, just as it is addicting to spend time with each other. You just work so well together, you are so right. 

“You know”, you begin.

“Yes, baby?” he answers you, voice warm and caring.

“I love having you over.” 

He glances again. His eyes sparkle, his teeth show in the shiest of smiles.

“I can look at you, I get to listen to you and talk to you. I love it.”

“Yeah, I love it too.”

“And I get to kiss you. It’s pretty awesome.”

He looks at your lips, raising your pulse with it.

“You know. I, theoretically, have one minute again”, he says, giving you puppy eyes.

You laugh because you love when he flirts. You set the wine aside, making grabby hands at him.

“Then come here and make it count.”

Yoongi sets the spoon aside, closing the distance. How he is going to make it count.

[tonysbed]

my favourite colour | LN4

Lando Norris x Mercdriver!fem!reader

summary: You turn indigo but..indigo is still quite liked and pretty

masterlist | previous

-

landonorris

liked by yn, pierregasly and 729.547 others

landonorris reminder: don’t play golf with yn, she will even beat carlos

yn 🤭😊

carlossainz yeah, at least i got ahead of you

landonorris yeah yeah

pierregasly that’s not so hard 😂😬

landonorris blocked.

user didn’t know she was that good with them

user of course she is, they’re friends lol

user love how close they are

-

yn

liked by kimiantonelli, maxfewtrell and 925.636 others

yn he didn’t get the hint, did he?

kellypiquet but you fell asleep holding his hand..

yn kelly. I am not coming to girls night.

kikagomez EXCUSE ME??

lilymhe now that is unfair

lilyzhneimer :((

yn alright, i’m coming for lils

lilyzhneimer :)))

yn my god, just like oscar

oscarpiastri:))

user oscar lily are the best couple

user he’s trying tho

user omggggggg

user is this a soft launch??

-

yn

liked by kimiantonelli, landonorris and 957.538 others

yn maiden win + 1-2 podium. What else would we want?? 🥹

kimiantonelli best scenario for today 🤭

yn i’m so proud of you 👏

kimiantonelli 🖤

olliebearman WOHOOO 👏👏

mercedesamgf1 is anyone cutting onions 🥹

-

kimiantonelli

liked by lewishamilton, landonorris and 1m others

kimiantonelli the masterminds, the executors and the results

oliliebearman Id like to say we did great

lewishamilton you didn’t stick to the plan

charlesleclerc careful, before they parenttrap you with you know who

lewishamilton Niki tried that, didn’t work

user omg, that is yn

user does anyone recognise the car??

user it’s hers :/

user ohhhhh

-

yn

liked by landonorris, kimiantonelli and 937.648 others

yn 🖤

comments have been disabled

-

729.739 likes

f1updates yn yln and Lando norris have been spotted around Italy together looking cozy 👀👀

user WHAT

user i mean, as long as she’s happy

user The flowers in her last post, him saying indigo is his favourite colour 🥹 He really tried everything to bring the spark that lewis took back

user Wait..bringing them together was lewis and Charles idea, right?

user seems like it

user lewis isn’t blind. He knows her well and knew what it would do to her when he left

user yeah, and kimi loves her too so he obviously helped. And ollie either listened to his dad (char) or just followed kimi

pierregasly this is how i find out? pff

carlossainz you and me both

-

yn and landonorris

liked by lewishamilton, kimiantonelli and 2m others

yn and landonorris even the dark with you feels like the brightest day 🖤

lewishamilton 💜

kimiantonelli as long as you stay loyal to mercedes and don’t put that orange stuff on

landonorris *papaya

yn so..

mercedesamgf1 YOURE CHEATING???

yn im sorry you had to find out this way 😔

mercedesamgf1 😐

charlesleclerc took you long enough to realise he liked you MORE THAN A FRIEND

yn oops

nicorosberg 🤍

*comments under this post have been limited*

a/n im sorry this feels so rushed idk man.. I hope you still like it somehow :)

[yumeka-sxf]

After two months, the SxF manga is finally back! There's lots of interesting Melinda content here, so let's analyze!

I would say the main thing we learned about Melinda in this chapter reinforces what's been hinted at before - not only does she truly despise Donovan, but she's actually terrified of him. Her expression on this page when she thinks of his souless eyes says it all.

Whether her fear comes from direct abuse, knowledge of what unspeakable things he's done in the past, or something else entirely, has yet to be seen. This chapter also emphasizes the fact that she can't freely do what she wants without being fearful of what he would do. Just like at the end of the bus hijacking arc where she made Damian promise not to tell Donovan that she had come to pick him up, we see in this chapter that she can't let him know about her occult hobby either.

But while it's not clear what exactly Donovan does or has done to her to make her like this, what is clear is that her fear of him is what's caused this inescapable hatred of him, which was so strong that it caused her to also develop feelings of hatred for her son because he's something that connects her to Donovan. But like we've seen before when Anya first read her mind, her dislike for Damian is fickle; one minute she wants him to disappear, but deep down she loves him. While the first incident after the hijacking made her seem more ambivalent, this chapter reveals that her "good" side is her true intent - wanting to be a worthy mother to Damian and see him happy.

But her fear of Donovan is so gripping, that just the thought of confronting him makes her paralyzed with fear. She becomes too exhausted to continue and even starts questioning why she bothers with fortune telling at all. Perhaps it's an unconscious coping method that she uses to try and find a way out of the horrible situation she's in.

Hopefully we'll learn even more about Melinda in the next chapter when she has her appointment with "Dr. Forger." But another thing I wanted to point out in this chapter is reiterating how empathetic Yor is to Melinda's condition despite not knowing what's actually bothering her. And in recommending that Melinda see Loid at work, she's actually helping with his mission! (of course only Anya realized this).

And oh my god, the "grim reaper" joke had me cackling 😂 Their expressions in the first panel were hilarious enough, but then Yor had to make sure Anya knows that she doesn't use a scythe! That's just so her.

Guess it wouldn't be a SxF chapter without one quiet, bittersweet scene, courtesy of Loid this time 😭

I also love how the boys are enamored with Yor. Even foul-mouthed Damian can't bring himself to be directly rude to her, so he just runs away 😆

I know a lot can be said about the Tarot card meanings, but this post is long enough already, so I'll leave that part up to others who are better with that type of analysis 😅 I'm just glad the SxF manga is officially back! I'm relieved Endo is better and giving my best wishes that his health continues to stay good 🤞

[manicmanuscription]

Solstice and Sorrow

Azriel x Reader

Word Count: 17427

Warnings: Extreme angst, toxic friends, dark thoughts, fluff, happy endings.

Summary: What will happen when Selena’s (OC) toxic friends poison her mind and make her doubt her worthiness of Azriel when she’s already struggling with intense flashbacks and PTSD during this Solstice season

─── ♡ ───

Selena usually loved the holidays. That feeling of contentment that thrummed in her chest when the air started getting colder, when the spiders, ghosts and pumpkins slowly started turning to wreaths and twinkling lights and she absolutely adored winter solstice. Selena loved sitting around a fire and chatting with her friends a whiskey or hot fudge in hand, she loved giving meaningful gifts to her family. Everything about the holiday was so special.

Yet this year was different. 

Azriel had been working on the continent for four months so far, which was…fine. It was fine. It wasn’t the first time he had been gone for so long. Selena had always done her best to manage. Throwing herself into her work  until her hands bled that she didn’t have time to think about the ache in her chest. It was harder this time though, not having him  here to cozy up with by the fire as snow fell, or to make gingerbread with their nephew. 

She had shoved that bittersweet feeling far down though, occasional loving tugs on the bond and the cold weather increasing the numbr of patients she dealt with all got her through the day. 

It wasn’t until she recieved written word that he would not be able return in time for Solstice that Selena had gotten really upset, her heart sinking. She had shut off the bond as soon as she had read Azriel’s letter so he wouldn’t feel her sadness and had ignored the twinge of guilt that passed over before she did. 

It was her favorite holiday and she wouldn’t be spending it with her mate, the love of her life. Selena had burst into tears right then and there. She was so exhausted these last few months, running suspiciously close to burnout and all she wanted was him. 

So of course after a few days of wallowing she went to her childhood friends, they had been begging to see her and drinking in their favorite bar to ignore her feelings sounded like the perfect way to spend her evening and for awhile, it was. The music was just right and the drinks poured faster than Selena could blink. But when she had explained to her friends why she felt so off, they had responed so weirdly. 

“Spending every second attached to his hip isn’t enough?”

“Girl..this is good for you! You need some time for yourself.”

“No..we don’t mean it like that just… I mean come on we haven’t seen you in months, and now your complaining about the person your -and no offense honey you know we love you- literally always with.”

“You know what we mean, like you’re always all over him- give the male some room to breathe!”

Selena had left after that, and with the alcohol numbing her she couldn’t feel the harsh cold nipping at her bare shoulders. Her friend’s words echoing in her head until they were the only thing she could focus on. She knew she was clingy, physical touch had always been her love language. It was a reminder that they were safe, that they were here with her, not only that but she loved touching Azriel. Loved holding his hand under the table and crawling into his lap on the couch. Tears welled up in her eyes as she distantly remembered comments from Azriel’s brother’s when he introduced her a few decades ago. They had been surprised at his…willingness to her.

“Who are you and what have you done with Azriel.”

“If you’re here I guess Lena isn’t far behind.”

“And he…let’s you do that?”

Her mind was a whirlwind of memories and voices all overlapping in her head, it made her drunken head spin even faster when suddenly the thought came up so fast from the darkest part’s of her it had her pausing in the middle of the snow covered street. 

What if she was somehow forcing herself on him?

What if he had been pretending he was fine with all her advances but in reality he hated them? What if for over a hundred years she had been making her mate deeply uncomfortable? 

She let out a strangled sob at the thought. Trying to force herself to be quiet lest she wake anyone up with her misery at this ungodly hour. She had always tried to be respectful, but she had gotten too comfortable and now-

Now she was making Azriel resent her. 

Selena couldn’t stop the full on cry that fell from her lips, stumbling forward as tears blurred her vision on her walk home, she didn’t know when she tripped on the loose stone’s and cut her knee open, she didn’t know when the shadows had enough of her pity party and winnowed her home. Selena barely even remembered those same shadows tucking her in bed before slinking off to tell their master. 

———

The next morning she was woken up by the blinding intrusion of the sun. Selena groaned, her head was pounding and she turned away from the window, hoping to escape the light but hissed at the pain raidiating through her body at the movement. It took her a few moment’s to remember what happened last night and when she did, she curled up even further in the blankets as she cried once again. Everything felt heavy, like the weight of the entire world was crushing in on her slowly and she couldn’t escape it. Couldn’t escape the truth that she was a horrible mate. The shame was crushing her heart, distant traumatic memories a faint buzzing in the back of her head and Selena decided to stay in bed just a little while longer, at least until she had to get ready for tonight’s Solstice celebration.

Time moved slowly and yet too fast. She had just watched the clock on the wall tick the minutes by, falling in and out of sleep to avoid the heaviness of her thoughts, everything felt numb and yet when the sun started going down Selena felt like she needed more time to rest, to pull herself together.

With a pained sigh she forced herself out of bed, ignoring how the few shadows Azriel left behind in case of emergencies swirled around her feet to make sure she was steady. Her shoulder was throbbing and her knee hurt like a bitch and once she was looking at herself in the mirror she knew why. The fall she had taken was still fuzzy in her mind and she was almost postive that the shadows had lessened the damage. But a bruised shoulder and a scabbed knee was nothing in comparison to some of the other injuries she had faced in this lifetime. The massive hangover wasn’t going to help her healing process so Selena applied some of the ointment’s she kept in the cabinent and took a vial of foul tasting medicine for her headache and set to getting ready for dinner. 

———

Azriel knew how important Winter Solstice was to his beautiful mate. Her family celebrated loudly every year before their untimely and gruesome deaths. Whether or not his lovely wife wanted to admit it he could tell that she needed him around even more during this time, to celebrate just as loud as she had before, to cherish and hold her even tighter as a reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. But this damned assignment was ruining everything. He had been stuck an a different continent for months with little to no communication with Selena given the severity of this situation- trying to hunt down rumours about harming the little prince of night. He wished he could shadow-step immediately into his sweetheart’s arms but with how spread thin his magic and how much it would take to do so would nearly if not assuredly kill him. So a flying and winnow combo was the only way he could make it to her and he had left days ago determined to return for her favorite holiday. 

Yet he had severly underestimated how much energy he had left for shadow-walking, it was taking more time than usual especially trying to avoid detection from other courts lest he cause a political nightmare. So Azriel regrettedly sent a letter, the words appearing on the magic paper faster than he currently was, he could feel her mates disappointment before she hide it away and the thought almost had him not wanting to return at all to avoid facing that sadness head on. But everything ached for her, every second away felt like his body was slowly shutting down. The bond in his chest anxiously awaiting to return to his other half. He was flying above the clouds nearing Pyrthian’s border when suddenly her quietness on the bend snapped in half and all of her emotions hit him like a brick he nearly fell out of the sky and into the ocean below when he luckily caught himself on a strong current. 

He could feel her shame, her drunkeness, he could feel that little ball of anxiety in her chest getting bigger and bigger with each passing second he felt like he was close to hyperventilating right along with her. Azriel had to take deep calming breaths doing everything he could to reach her and calm her down and it only made it worse his mind felt like it was burning and his heart was pumping too fast. He was starting to panic at the weight of her emotions, slowly starting to drift down. He couldn’t fucking think-

Hundreds of years of displine and training had him regaining control of the sitaution on his hand. He had to shut off the bond so he couldn’t feel her, avoiding another untimely fall as he did. Guilt ate away at him for doing so but something else spurred him to beat his wings faster. His mate was hurting and he needed to fix it now. The bond in his chest raged at the thought and the sudden adreneline boost made his siphons flare slightly with a new determination to get there as soon as possible.

——— 

Dinner went by in a rush and her entire family was sitting in around the fireplace passing around presents, soft music played from somewhere in the house but with like the rest of the noise it all buzzed faintly in the back of her head. She had slipped into this headspace so fast and now she was drowning it and she didn’t know what to do. 

A soft hand nudged her shoulder and she pulled her attention away from the window. Her High Lady was standing in front of her with a soft smile holding out a small box in her hands, wrapped up in gold with a red ribbon curling gracefully down the sides. The Inner Circle gave her a few worried glances before returning to their own conversations and Selena flushed with embarrassment at the realization Feyre had been trying to get her attention for awhile. 

“Sorry.” She breathed out, wanting to fold in an herself and disappear even further. The fae smiled gently. “Not a problem, it is quite beauitful out there.” Selena hummed in agreement silently thanking Feyre for saving her from any further embarrassment. “This is from Rhys and I.” 

She took the gift with a smile and thanked her High Lord and Lady who gave her answering grins in return, after delicately opening the expanse wrapping paper and revealed the book inside she couldn’t but feel a tang of sadness in her heart. She recognized the handwritting stamped on the leather cover. Selena quickly looked up at her friends to confirm and Feyre nodded. It was one of her mother’s medical journals, after her family’s violent death they had all been given out to muesuem’s or research groups that had needed the groundbreaking information inside. 

A tear slipped down her cheek as she thumbed the pages. Everything about it was so uniquely her. The messy handwriting, worn cover, the strong scent of her jasmine perfume still clinging to a few of the pages. “I found it in a musuem visiting Day and practically fought the curator for it. Thankfully Helion owed me a favor.” 

“Thank you…I-I have no words.” Selena breathed out and Feyre gave her another smile. “There are none needed.” 

Present’s were close to being done when the clock struck midnight. Rhys outdoing himself each year with spoiling his mate for her brithday, she was making a joke about need to add a whole wing to the house just so she had a place to put her increasingly extravagant gifts and Rhysand’s eye glinted with mischief at the thought. Soon the night wrapped up and Selena walked home, needing to feel the cold wind on her face as she processed her thoughts. 

Any other day she would’ve loved Feyre’s gift, but all it had done was twisted the swirling vortex of shame and grief in her heart. Her mind seemed to grow more weary with the weight pressing down on her. She missed her family, she missed the way her mom sung holiday song’s all year and how her brother’s always played with the colorful lights. 

She missed Azriel, and the thought hit her that she would always be missing him, it wasn’t long until he would eventually grow tired of her. She had ruined everything, needing a better escape from her thoughts Selena winnowed home. Grabbing the whiskey on the top shelf Cassian bought a few years ago as an anniversary gift and popped the bottle open, the hands moved on the clock extremely slow and also too fast, drink after drink was poured as her mood soured even more. She didn’t even notice when the door opened and that familiar scent of rain and cedar invaded her senses. Didn’t even notice the thrum of the bond humming in delight until her mate was kneeling in front of her with a soft smile on his face.

“Hi Baby.” 

Selena almost broke down in tears right then and there, every fiber in her body screaming at her to jump into his arms, tackle him to the floor and pepper his face with kisses. But her friends word’s rang in her ear like a dark bell echoing in her head tugging on that rotten piece inside her chest. She smiled at him, the sight and scent of him still soothing some of the jagged pieces of her heart. “Hi.” She breathed out softly. 

Azriel’s brow’s furrowed at her lack of reaction but he wasn’t surprised he could already make an educated guess of where his lovely mate’s head was at based on the echoed feelings in the bond and the shadows whispering information in his ear. He gently pried the whiskey from her grasp and kissed her forehead, her nose, and then her mouth. She sighed into the kiss and Azriel’s heart hummed in contentment as the bond slowly settled at finally being able to touch her after all this time. He lifted her off the couch and carried her to their shared bedroom. Placing her down gently on the bed and settled next to her. Usually Selena would automatically curl into his side laying her head against his muscled chest and entertwine their hands pressing a kiss to each of his scarred fingers. But instead she curled away from and Azriel seethed silently. 

He was usually an extrememly patient male, he had to be in his line of work but she didn’t jump into his arms when he came home, not even kissing him or saying she missed him and now she was pretending he didn’t exist in their marital bed. His patience snapped. He let out a dark growl, sitting himself against the headboard and pulled Selena onto his hips so fast she let out a gasp of surprise. 

The sound elicited something within him and his stomach churned with need. But first he needed to check on his gorgeous wife before even acknowledging the desire that had slowly been building up with their time apart. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong sweetheart or do I need to pry it out of you?” He whispered placing soft kisses on the side of her neck. Selena’s eyelids fluttered shut at the sensation, everything felt intensified after their distance. His hand’s massaging her inner thights, his lips slowly moving down to her shoulder, the shadows running along her spine. It was overwhelming and she wanted to lose herself in the feeling, in him. But the voices returned tenfold and snapped their jaws viciously clamping down on her heart and she jerked away from him and off the bed. Hurt briefly flashed across his expression but instead he let out a soft breath. 

“W-Why are you doing that.” Selena asked gasping for air. This was too all too much. You’re going to lose him, you’re going to lose him, you’re going to lose him, you’re going to-

“Selena..Baby…” Azriel said in the deceptively soft tone it skittered across her bones and her heat skipped a beat when he said her name. “You’re my mate can I not kiss you?” 

Azriel slid off the bed, walking over to her silently he was good at reading people, especially her. He had spent years figuring her out understanding how her mind worked and how her heart sang exactly for moment like these and he knew that she just needed to talk aloud or else those little voices trying to take his mate away wouldn’t go away. She just needed a little push and Azriel knew her body, knew which button’s to push to elicit certain reactions. “The faster you tell me what’s wrong the faster I can fix it sweetheart.”

“I don’t need you to fix it!” She snapped, her voice breaking. “I-I just-“ A shuddering cry escaping her throat as Azriel gently pushed the pieces of her hair back. His heart shattered at the sound, the bond hissing at her dispair and he wrapped his arms around her pulling her close as she cried her body shaking with the force of her sobs. “I don’t…want to lose you.” Selena said gasping for air in between her words. 

“You’re never going to lose me.”

She cried harder at that. “I lose everyone, it’s not long before-“

He pulled away grasping her face in his hands softly but firm, locking eyes with her so she could understand the gravity of his words. “Selena you’re not going to lose me whatever things you’re thinking it’s not true.” She let out a painful whimper, cries had subsided to small hiccups as she tried to regain control to speak. “I feel.. like-like you secretly hate me that I am too clingy and annoying and right now…I feel like you’re lying to me.” Her voice broke at the end and a pained sob escaped her lips as she finally admitted to what had beeing weighing on her heart and mind. 

Azriel felt like his heart had fucking shattered and turned to dust on the floor. 

He felt tears prick at his eyes as he realized how severe she had fallen into her trauma, she had turned away from him not able to face him as more sobs wracked her body. “Selena.” Azriel whispered his voice cracking. “Selena look at me. Please.” 

Selena’s heart broke ever further at the pain in Azriel’s voice and she slowly turned, he touched his forehead against hers and than pressing a soft kiss there as well. His hands rested on the side of her neck and the other one on his hip. “Selena I love you. I worship the ground you walk on. I would go fucking insane without you, not having you jump into my arms as soon I got home made me feel like the world was ending. I love it when you touch me, I love it when you whisper how much you love me right before I fall asleep, I love it when you come and find me while I’m working just to curl in my lap. I am so addicted to you it makes it hard to breath and If I didn’t have you I’d go mad. You’re the brightest light in this world, watching you shine is the greatest honor of my life. When you laugh my heart sings, and when you cry it breaks. I love you so much Selena. I am utterly consumed by you.” 

Azriel grabbed her hands and settled them over his heart. “Do you feel that? My heart only beats for you and nothing and no one else. Ensuring your happiness and health is something I take very seiously and great pride in.” He was pushing all his love and adoration through the bond it was overwhelming and Selena had no choice but to feel the truth in his words, it spread her entire body with this mind numbing warmth and she let out a watery laugh. More tears falling as she did so. Azriel brushed them away ever so softly with the pad of his thumbs. 

“I’m sor-“ He cut her off with a kiss. “Don’t.” He whispered quietly. “You have saved me from myself too many times to count dearest, it’s a privilege to even try do the same for you.”

“I love you.” Selena choked out, wrapping her arms around his neck and bringing him impossibly closer.

“I am your’s Selena, and you are mine.” Azriel said with finality. Selena whispered it back to him, trailing soft kisses up his neck and peppering his face with their soft lips. Azriel grinned, the dutiful shadow that had been with her that night had already told on her toxic friends, whom he’d never liked and believe it or not this isn’t the first time he comforted Selena after their misplaced words. They would be dealt with, Azriel growing tired of their bullshit affecting his love. 

But right now all he wanted was to hold her. He picked her up and she squealed happily, wrapping her legs around him as Azriel walked them back to the bed. He was leaning above her his hands still gripping her hips tightly as he pressed his lips to hers. “Do you believe me when I say that I love you?” Azriel asked, pushing his love through the bond once again and Selena nodded. Azriel smiled, “Good because you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” 

Selena laughed and a moment of silence passed between them as Azriel started pressing more kisses to the inside of her wrists, then her fingertips, than her forehead, her nose and finally her mouth. 

“Thank you.” Selena breathed out in the peaceful moment they had created. Azriel just hummed and pressed his lips to hers again absolutely determined to make her feel good, needing to chase away the darkness even further. His hand’s slipped under her skirt brushing against her inner thighs and Selena let herself reveal in his touch and in the all consuming warmth vibrating from his side of the bond with an intensity that thrummed under her skin. The doubt eddied from her mind and Selena sent every ounce of love right back to him as she finally pulled herself out of her dark thoughts. 

“Mine.” She whispered with a slight nibble on his lips and he growled lowly, returning the favor. “Mine.” He whispered back. 

A/N: Holy shit guys I've been writing this fic FOR WEEKSSSS! I kept deleting and restarting and getting stuck halfway through, this isn't really where I wanted to go with it but omg here we are. I'm not 100% happy with it but thank fuck its done. I might rewrite a different version later but idk. Let me know what you think!

[robo-writing]

Hi robo! I had an awful birthday yesterday and I was wondering if you could write some cute birthday fluff with reader x logan? 🥹 Like maybe she has a rly bad day where things don’t go as planned but Logan gives her a little cake or something and they spend the night together because he wants to make it better for her 🥹 ik it’s a big request so no pressure! 🫶

I’m sorry about your birthday anon, hopefully the rest of your week is better!

Thinking about how your day went almost makes you want to laugh, but not in a funny way; more like a “how the hell can it get worse” kind of way.

By the time you get home your feet are dragging across the floor. Trains acting up, bitchy manager—hell, even your local lunch spot ran out of your favorite order. So much for a happy birthday. The past 24 hours have been such a drain on you mentally that you don’t register Logan’s voice when you walk inside.

Your minds a mess, a metaphorical cloud hanging over your head as you side-step him, immediately walking to your bedroom. You hear him call your name from behind, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? More than anything, you want to lie down and just sleep.

You strip yourself haphazardly, not really caring that your clothes pile up on the floor, before falling face first onto your mattress. Maybe a nap will help you forget.

“Sweetheart?” Logan calls, and you’re guessing that he’s standing by the door because you don’t hear his footsteps come closer. The worry is evident in his voice, and as much as you hate to make him worry you really can’t find it in yourself to speak right now.

“You alright?” He says, and you groan in response.

“Okay, not alright then,” he hums, and finally sits himself beside you. “Talk to me.”

It takes you a while to muster up the words, but he’s patient with you, a luxury you can’t say he affords anyone else. “Had a bad day is all.”

“Sounds like more than just a bad day.”

“…had a bad birthday.”

“Ahh, there it is,” he sighs, putting a hand against your back. “Explains why you never noticed my present.”

You turn your head to him, looking up curiously. “Present?”

Logan nods his head in return. “Mhm. Decorated the whole living room for you. Looks like a clown threw up in there.”

The faintest smile graces your face, tinged with guilt at how callous you’ve been. You know how Logan struggles with emotion, and having you ignore his efforts probably felt like a slap to the face.

You reach your hand out, letting your fingers drum against his. “I’m sorry Lo’, didn’t mean it.”

“Got nothin’ to be sorry about,” he answers, kissing the top of your head. “When you feel better, we can go downstairs and give you a real birthday celebration, okay?”

[etherfraisie]

Sunset

Sylus x fem!reader

A bet for dinner turned into something more precious

word count: 1.148 words

note: this was written with fem!reader in mind but no Y/N is used and can also be used for OCs. leaving a comment is greatly appreciated! happy reading<3

--***--

“I know you love a bet.”

“And I know you hate when I go easy on you.”

They had been halfway through an auction when they decided to just ditch it for a walk at the beach. Sylus even left his motorcycle at the auction’s parking lot because she insisted that she wanted to walk to the beach, but then again, even if his motorcycle were to be stolen, he will get it back one way or another. 

They reached the beach a few minutes ago, now walking towards the shore. She kicks her heels off and just leaves it there as she walks faster towards the water, Sylus picks up her heels before following behind her not too far. As her feet touch the water, she looks back to her beloved. “Take off your shoes, will you? Feel the water, it’s refreshing!”

“I’m sure the drinks at the auction are more refreshing than sea water, Sweetie.” But even then, he stops to do as she told him to before joining at her side to admire the ocean. There’s a comfortable silence between them, one they are used to. Sylus, as much as he enjoys listening to his beloved talk about her day, enjoys the silence they share together the same amount. In truth, Sylus wouldn’t mind doing anything as long as his beloved is there. He would drop everything in a heartbeat if her beloved ever just says she wants to live a simple life in the countryside. 

“Last one to reach those big rocks has to pay for dinner tonight!” she suddenly says. Sylus looks at the direction she’s pointing. He can see a couple of big rocks not too far from them but still far enough to be quite a run from where they’re standing.

“You’re on,” he says as he smirks, amused at her competitiveness.

“On the count of three!”

“One… two–” but before Sylus could finish counting down, she’s already started to run. Sylus just shakes his head and laughs at the display of childishness and then joins her to run towards the appointed rocks as the finish line. Although, he’s not much on trying to win and just wants to catch up with her. But that doesn’t mean he wants to let her win just like that. He picks up his speed, easily catching up to her until he runs in front of her. He only meant to tease, because in his mind, a few feet before reaching the rocks, he plans to slow down. Making sure she thinks he’s running out of stamina and she’s able to win over him. He’s already set to pay for the dinner the moment she placed that bet anyways. But he never gets the chance to do his grand scheme of slowing down, because not long after he’s running in front of her, he hears a loud thud and her groan following quickly.

Perhaps there’s a sharp clam or rocks that she accidentally steps on. It pierces through her foot, causing her to lose balance and trips on her own leg. To put salt on her wounds, she scrapes her knees as she falls and sprains her ankle. Sylus didn’t waste a single second to be at her side, helping her into a comfortable position and then checking on her wounds. She lets out a strain laugh to light up the panic in Sylus’s eyes but it doesn’t seem to help.

“Can you walk?” he asks her as he wipes off some sand that sticks to her legs.

“Well, technically I can, just a bit slower,” she answers him sheepishly.

Sylus then quickly shifts to offer his back to her, “I’ll carry you. I won’t take no.”

Reluctantly, although deep down she enjoys being pampered by him, she circles her arms around his neck and raises her legs a bit so that he can hold onto the underside of her thighs to carry her. He then stands up and starts walking to the rocks again, his beloved safely being carried on his back, and both of their shoes he carries on both his hands.

“I guess I’ll pay for dinner tonight,” she says, filling up the silence.

“Who says I've won already?” Sylus responds to her in a teasing tone. Before she can ask what he meant, Sylus already turns his back. He’s walking backwards. It took her a few seconds to realize what he’s trying to do. She laughs when it finally dawns at her.

“Is this your pity excuse so that you can pay for dinner?” She pinches his cheek.

“Whatever you mean by that?” Sylus smiles, not really putting much effort in avoiding her question. “Look, it’s sunset already.”

She looks to the side. The sun has just touched the sea and is slowly sinking down as he keeps walking backwards. The orange hues surround them, making everything seem warm, which it is. She loves soft moments like this with him. Where they’re both aren’t tied with the responsibility of their jobs for a short time. Where no one is around to see how calm he is right now. No one shall see this side of him. No one but her.

She tightens her arms to hug his neck tighter and nuzzles her cheek to his hair, smelling her shampoo that he used earlier today cause he had just ran out on his own and he hadn’t had the time to buy another. She would’ve scolds him for using her shampoo, but truth be told, she likes to share her own stuff with her beloved. She would never admit that though, so she flicks her finger to the side of his temple. “You used my shampoo didn’t you?”

“I did. I like the smell.”

“I don’t remember allowing you to use it.”

“I asked before I use it, Sweetie. You were busy with Mephisto but you said yes anyway.”

“Guess I didn’t really pay attention.” She slumps to his shoulder, lips pouting.

“If you’re worried about your shampoo running out, I don’t mind buying it for you. We’re running out of necessities at home anyway, so we’re due for grocery shopping.” He leans his head to hers, a small attempt at reassuring her. “We’ll go after dinner.”

“You’re so kind to me,” she says barely above whisper, but he heard her nonetheless.

“It’s nothing, Sweetheart. It’s the least I can do.”

Sylus then stops as they’re reaching the rocks. She turns her body slightly so she’s able to touch the rock. She then hugs him again. “Dinner time!”

He laughs at her enthusiasm. “I see it is less about who pays for dinner and more about eating that dinner itself.”

“Come on, let’s go. Are you not starving?”

“Hold on, Sweetie, we still have to patch up those wounds you have.”

“Fine, but after that, we go straight to dinner!”

“Ofcourse, Sweetheart.”

[punkymaysnark]

Is "pinkwashing" a good term for this episode? Because I got some serious "pinkwashing" vibes out of it.

I mean, IMP offed a straight couple who cheated with only a slight hangup from Moxxie. And they made that straight couple into a bunch of super-religious whackos to make sure you, the viewer, also wanted them dead.

And then the gay couple here is just shown hugging their kids and kissing on the lips. This was so charming and wholesome that only Millie was still willing to kill them. The same Blitzø who wanted to kill a "happy mother fresh out of the hospital" becomes declawed upon seeing two gay dads kissing on the lips.

It just reads to me like that thing people do where they're like "you can't fault me, I'm gay!" I'm like, "so what"? It doesn't change the fact that the husband cheated on his wife, it doesn't change that he screwed her out of the family, it doesn't change that he left her a bitter and depressed mess. We know so little about these circumstances because it's just a foil for more Stolitz shit. What if she died in poverty after he left her? And what if HE'S a terrible person under the skin, too? Gay people can still be terrible people! Seeing him cuddling his new family on Christmas doesn't fucking change that!

They even tried making the ex-wife a catty and prickly person, but not even in a way that's unjustified. One, SHE WAS CHEATED ON. Presumably died without ever having this settled. Two, I would ALSO hate being left to wait in a boring room with nothing to read and only a sad sack to talk to. She's a bitch who is right.

Really, I just watched this episode mostly for my beautiful perfect daughter Loona and seeing her happy, then left it with some unfortunate imp-lications. (Huehuehue)

[wayward-dreamer]

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Word count: 3,730

Summary: Dean resigns himself to the fact that his girlfriend has to miss out on Christmas with him, hard at work and trying to meet a deadline over the holidays, states away. He hopes she can make it.

Warnings: Swearing, slight angst, lots of fluff towards the end, smut: dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), v fingering, unprotected p in v (wrap it up people), breeding kink if you squint, Dean being a domestic dream boyfriend.

A/N: Requested by @xlynnbbyx. I hope you like it! Happy reading everyone! Unbeta'd.

There’s nothing quite like coming home to a warm house, especially just as the chill of winter starts to set in. As Dean stepped into his home, scarf bundled around his neck and tucked into his long, black coat he was thankful that his home was well insulated, even when the heating wasn’t on. Snow was just beginning to fall, causing him to dust it off his shoulders and hair before he removed his coat, hanging it by the door on the rack along with his scarf. He slipped off his black loafers, turning the thermostat on as he walked into the kitchen. He shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over the bar stool, making his way over to the fridge. He took out a bottle of beer, twisted the cap off and took a long swig, sitting in the bar stool with a heavy exhale.

He looked around the darkened house, the only light on in the kitchen, his eyes scanning over the photos on the wall. The only thing better than escaping the cold for warmth, was having the warmth of someone next to him. He smiled softly as he looked at his favorite photos of him and his girlfriend, wishing she had been there to greet him when he got back from work. It had been several months that hadn’t occurred, and he was starting to get sick of coming back to an empty nest. He took out his phone, checking the time and shaking his head when he realized it was too late to call her. He might just have to try for your lunch break the next day.

Y/N had been offered a new position at her company, which came in the form of a relocation for 10 months. It had been hard in the first few weeks to be apart, but they had made it work with her coming home every other weekend, or him flying in to see her on the alternate ones. As things got busier for both of them that meant they had less freedom to do that. He had spent many sleepless nights in their bed, wishing she could be back in Kansas with him and not miles away in another state.

Now with just a week until Christmas, he had to live with the fact that she couldn’t come home for the holidays. She had broken the news to him a week prior, apologizing profusely as they had to work through the Christmas period to meet a deadline. As usual, he understood it was her job and she had responsibilities, but it just plain sucked that he wasn’t going to have her home to celebrate.

He just hoped that they had a better shot at New Years Eve.

“So we’re doing 24th dinner here, and presents in the morning and then 25th dinner at mom and dad’s,” Sam explained, passing the box of orange chicken to Dean across the table.

“Sounds good,” Dean muttered, taking some of the chicken out onto his plate. “I gotta go to Benny’s after I’m done with work, but I’ll be here after that.”

Sam nodded, as he took the noodles from Eileen. “What time is Y/N flying in?”

Dean pursed his lips as he looked between both of them, totally forgetting the fact that he hadn’t told them yet. “Uh, she’s actually not gonna be here for Christmas. Her team’s working through to meet a deadline and she can’t make it.”

“Seriously? She’s not going to be here?” Eileen signed, frowning as she watched Dean sit back in his chair.

“Yeah,” he shrugged. “I mean, yeah it sucks that this’ll be our first time away from each other during Christmas, but she’s gotta work.”

“You’re shockingly cool about this,” Sam stated.

Dean huffed, shaking his head. “What do you want me to say, Sammy? You want me to say I want her here for Christmas, because it’s already been 5 months without her being home? Yeah, that’s what I want, okay? I really want that, but it’s her job, man. I can’t argue with that.”

Shoving a huge forkful of food meant the conversation was over, but as they continued with dinner and moved onto talking about other things, Sam couldn’t get the thought of Y/N not coming home for Christmas out of his mind.

Maybe he had to use his persuasive skills thanks to his job for this situation too.

If there was one place Y/N didn’t want to be so close to Christmas, it was work.

Relocating to Philadelphia had been exciting at first, even if she was sad about leaving her friends and family behind in Lawrence. She knew 10 months was going to be a lot, but she hoped with all the work that needed to be done, that time would fly by. However, it had 5 months of ridiculous hours, and only getting to see her boyfriend once every few weeks, if they could manage it. The work was fine, she was good at her job, but she never loved it. It was only meant to be temporary when she was back at the Kansas City branch, but when her boss asked her to relocate she hoped that it was just a way to prove herself and get back home sooner. Maybe even get a promotion because of it. Then hearing that she couldn’t travel back for the holidays was the tasteless icing on a shitty cake.

She just prayed they could meet the deadline by the weekend and she could still try and make it before it was too late.

Y/N finished typing up the latest report that needed to be collated with the others, emailing it to the administrative assistant of her department. Checking the time, she sighed in relief that it was just after 1pm and she could finally eat. Picking up her purse, she walked out of her office, her heels clacking against the wooden floors as she passed the assistant’s desk.

“Hey, Riley. I just emailed you the latest report, can you make 10 copies of those and have them on my desk by the end of lunch?” she asked, slinging her tote over her shoulder.

“Sure,” Riley replied, blandly as she ignored her.

Y/N closed her eyes, breathed in deep before she exhaled, trying to let go of her frustration. She looked at the younger blonde woman, plastering on a polite smile. “Please. In half an hour.”

She walked away before she caught Riley no doubt rolling her eyes, making her way to the elevators. She went down a few floors to the cafeteria, opting for lunch inside rather than enduring the cold and finding a cafe to go to. She didn’t have the energy or willpower for that today. As she sat down with her salad and water, she checked her texts and other emails she hadn’t gotten to yet. She scrolled mindlessly on Instagram, liking a post every now and then as she shoved food into her mouth. Her thumb lingered on one post, a sad smile pulling at her lips when she saw her boyfriend and his brother and sister-in-law just taking a casual selfie at family dinner, something she also would’ve been a part of had she been there. Double tapping and moving on after the heart appeared, she flinched as her phone buzzed in her hand, startling her. She recovered quickly, seeing Sam’s name pop up on the screen.

“Hey, Sam,” she answered, pressing the phone to her ear.

“Hey! How’s Philly treating you?” he asked, no doubt smiling.

“Just making me wish I was somewhere tropical right now,” she replied, glancing out the huge glass windows at the bleak sky.

She heard his boisterous laugh through the speaker, making her smile softly. “Well, it’s not much better here in Kansas, but we’re getting through it. Missing those gingerbread cookies of yours, though.”

“Oh, trust me, I’m missing the fact that I haven’t made them this year,” she admitted. “And I miss y’all enjoying them, too.”

“So… maybe we can expect a small batch at least if you swing by for just Christmas Eve and Christmas Day?” he asked, suggestively.

She sighed heavily, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Sam. I mean, I really want to and I’m working overtime just trying to get stuff done so that I can hopefully make it in time, but I don’t even know if we’ll be done by Tuesday at this point.”

Sam was quiet for a moment before she heard his soft timbre.

“Look, Y/N, I know that it’s your job and if you really can’t make it work then I completely understand… but if there’s a way you can, then just know that at least my brother’s not going to be brooding at the dinner table.”

She huffed a small laugh at that. She knew Dean was just being supportive of her and she loved him for it, but she wouldn’t have blamed him for being upset about this unfortunate circumstance. She was upset about it, knowing she’d much rather be with all of them.

“Okay, Sam. I’m gonna try like hell to be there,” she stated, firmly.

“Good. See you soon,” Sam ended the call with what she hoped was his words to God’s ears.

Y/N sat back in chair, fingers tapping against the screen of his phone, causing it to light up and show her she still had fifteen minutes before she had to head up to her desk. While she had hoped this relocation would be a way to come home to promotion, it was that she wished she could find her way home before kicking this job to the curb. She didn’t know how much longer she could handle being away from everyone, or how much longer she could endure the work that gave her absolutely no joy. Her phone buzzed again, this a text from her boss in all caps, reading: BE UP IN 5!!!

She glared down at the message, shaking her head as she considered the fact that she just felt like a pack mule carrying the entire load of the work and getting nothing in return. She had been there 6 years and barely had anything to show for it. She breathed in deep, closed her eyes and when she eventually opened them again, she knew what she needed to do. Something she should’ve done a long time ago.

When she got to her boss’s office, she walked in and was greeted by his scowling face barking orders at her. They went in one ear and out the other as she sat down calmly in the chair in front of his desk, waiting for him to finish before she spoke.

“There’s actually something we need to talk about first.”

Snowfall had begun and was sticking to the ground by the time Dean got home from his last day of work until after the new year began.

After leaving and making a quick stop at Benny’s to catch up before he left for Louisiana, he was intending to go straight to Sam’s, but he decided to go home first and change. Truly he didn’t care anymore if he was a dishevelled mess after work, but his mom would’ve had a few things to say and he didn’t want to deal with that today. It was Christmas Eve, and all he wanted to do was eat, drink and not think about the fact that Y/N was all the way in Philadelphia. He kept his mind occupied with the thought of food and alcohol, and not his beautiful girlfriend that he hadn’t seen in months. He missed her too much and he supposed for the sake of everyone in his family he should at least try not to dwell on the fact that she wasn’t there with them, to be more tolerable for the next few days.

He walked into the house, closing the door behind him and blocking out the cold. He frowned as he felt the house was warmer than usual, which meant he probably didn’t turn the heat off before leaving in the morning. Shaking his head at his own forgetfulness, he took off his coat and scarf, hung it up and was about to slip his loafers off when he heard a clattering sound from the kitchen. His jaw clenched as he stilled himself, wondering if he was just hearing things but then he heard the oven open and close, making him realize that the house was wafting with the smell of ginger and cinnamon. He took slow, tentative steps towards the arch to the living room and kitchen area, his heart beating rapidly in his chest until he saw the intruder he thought had broken very easily into his home wasn’t an intruder at all.

“Hey, baby,” Y/N greeted him with her signature beaming smile, placing a tray of her famous gingerbread cookies on the kitchen counter.

His eyes widened as he looked around the room before he focused on her. “I’m hallucinating, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know whether to laugh or be insulted,” she teased, leaning her hands on the edge of the bench.

A smirk crept up on his face as he stared at her, taking in her beautiful face. “Fuck.”

He rushed over just as she skipped out of the kitchen and met him halfway, jumping up and wrapping her arms around him. She squealed as his arms wrapped tight around her waist, spinning her around as she buried her face into his neck. He kissed her shoulder, her neck, her jaw before looking deep into her eyes, confirming that this wasn’t a dream and pressing a searing kiss to her lips.

“Okay, okay, wait,” he muttered, pulling away but his face was still close to hers. “How the fuck are you here? I thought you had to work all-”

“Well, it turns out that I couldn’t take one more day in that place and being away from you,” she said, her hand combing through his short hair. “So, after a very brief but convincing phone call from your brother I went to my boss and asked if I could come home.”

“Damn, that was generous of him,” he stated, holding her tight. “I thought he was a hardass.”

“Oh, he is and he made a big noise about me leaving before the deadline, so I quit.”

“What?” he asked, frowning. “Babe, wait. Why would you do that?”

“Because I already had one foot out the door these last few months and I couldn’t spend another day doing something I didn’t love,” she explained, pecking his lips. “Plus, I missed you too much.”

“Y/N,” he shook his head, comprehending everything she just told him. “You gotta be totally sure about this, ‘cause-”

She cut him off with a soft kiss to his lips, looking deep into his eyes. “I am.”

“Fuck, I missed you so much, sweetheart,” he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. “I guess I owe Sam, huh?”

“Yes, and I owe him a whole batch of cookies just for him,” she chuckled, pointing her thumb behind her to the kitchen.

He hummed as he kissed her once, twice as he walked back towards the staircase near the front of the house. “That’s gonna have to wait until I’m done with you, though.”

“Dean, I have to put another batch in!” she exclaimed as he carried her upstairs.

“Later,” he breathed, his gaze intense as he looked into her eyes. “Right now we got a lot of time to make up for.”

“We’ll be late,” she mumbled between kisses as he moved towards their bed.

“They’ll live.”

She giggled as they quickly stripped themselves of their clothes before he helped her onto the bed. She laid down and pulled him with her, wrapping herself around him as he kissed her, roughly. Taking her hands in his, he moved them above her head, drifting down and leaving a trail of kisses along her body. Time apart hadn’t hindered the effect that he had on her, her legs immediately falling open as he nipped and licked along her soft skin. She sighed as his tongue found the swollen nub at the apex of her thighs, her fingers combing into his locks and keeping him in place. Soft moans gained volume as he continued to pleasure her with his talented mouth.

“Dean, oh god,” she moaned, loudly, throwing her head back. “Fuck, I missed this.”

He chuckled as he pulled away slightly, looking up at her. “Gotta make sure you didn’t forget it.”

“As if I ever could,” she sighed, meeting his gaze.

He continued his ministrations, groaning at the feel and taste of her against his tongue as he circled the bundle of nerves. He slipped two fingers into her, a sharp cry escaping her as he wasted no time and set a quick pace, finding that sweet spot inside with each thrust. Her arousal grew as he kept going, the familiar heat pooling deep in her core and she knew she was close. She hadn’t felt this way in a long time, hadn’t felt him in such a long time and she found herself growing impatient.

“Dean, please,” she pleaded, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I’m so close, baby, please.”

She gripped his hair roughly between her fingers as he sped up, his tongue flicking over her clit expertly. Her eyes squeezed shut as she felt the burning knot in her stomach wind tighter, his name falling from her lips in a loud whimper once she reached the blissful peak. Her wetness coated his tongue and fingers as he slowly withdrew from her, shifting up and pressing his lips to hers. She moaned at the taste of herself against him, clinging to him as he gathered her in his embrace.

“Fuck me,” she ordered, her lustful gaze meeting his. “Now, right now, please…”

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, babe,” he grinned.

He took hold of his hard shaft, notching himself to her entrance and in one quick motion, buried himself inside her soft walls. Her mouth fell open as a long moan escaped her, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he pulled out slightly, sliding into her wet heat again and setting a languid rhythm to his thrusts.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he groaned, nipping at her jaw. “Missed feeling this sweet little pussy around my cock.”

Their faces were close as they gazed into each other’s eyes, neither wanting to look away considering how long it had been without this type of connection. She shifted her hips to meet his, the pace not being enough to satisfy her in that moment. She wanted more, needed more.

“Harder, Dean,” she gasped, pulling him closer by his shoulders. “Fuck me harder, wanna feel it for days…”

“Yeah? You wanna feel my dick deep inside you, huh?” he husked, low and rough.

She whined with desperation, the rumble of his voice making her clench around him. One hand slid down his muscular back, squeezing the curve of his pert ass. “Yeah, fuck me like you missed me, baby. Come on.”

She got exactly what she wanted as he slammed into her, a shrieking moan falling from her lips, feet locked as she wrapped herself around him to keep him right where he was. He pounded into her, the head of his cock pressing against that spot that made her toes curl, that caused her moans to grow louder with each stroke.

“Oh, fuck, that’s it,” she whimpered, her eyes half closed in bliss. “Right there, Dean, feel so fucking good inside me.”

“So perfect, baby,” he whispered against her lips. “So fucking perfect.”

She grabbed his face in both of her hands and pulled him into a passionate kiss, their lips fused together as he continued to move within her. He felt her slick walls clench around him, her impending release as close as his.

She hummed as she looked up at him, her thumb stroking his jaw. “So close, Dean…”

He smirked as his hand drifted down between their bodies, his fingers circling her clit and making her eyes widen as she clung to him. Her breath stuttered as he moved them faster, in time with the hard drive of his hips against her, the heat deep in her core growing. With another thrust, her walls contracted around him as she came undone, a sharp cry of his name from between her lips as her arousal covered his shaft. He knew he wasn’t going to last much longer as his hips faltered, his cock throbbing inside her as he felt a heat curling in his belly.

“Cum inside me, baby,” her soft voice encouraged, her eyes sparkling with love for him. “Fill me up, I wanna feel it.”

A guttural moan rumbled in his chest as he slammed harder into her, his rhythm sloppier as he felt himself about to reach that perfect release. A shaky grunt escaped him as he finally shattered, pushing into her as far as possible. She moaned softly in his ear as she felt spurts of his seed flood her, content with being filled by him. He rolled his hips into her, the need to get his come as deep as he could inside her overwhelming in that moment.

He slowly dropped down on top of her, his head falling on her chest as her fingers combed his hair. They breathed heavily, coming down from the high they hadn’t experienced in a long time. She bit her lip as she stared up at the ceiling, a small giggle bubbling up through her lips. He lifted his head, resting his chin on her as he looked into her eyes.

“What?” His voice was low but rough from their activity.

She shook her head, smiling down at him. “Just… I’m so happy to be home. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he husked, kissing her chest. “Best Christmas ever.”

She beamed, her lips resting against his forehead as she sighed. She had never been happier about a decision in her life, and she was glad she came home before it was too late to celebrate the holidays.

“Best Christmas ever.”

[jelzorz]

203.

Callum and Rayla get married just after they turn twenty-one.

Honestly, Ezran's surprised they waited so long. Callum's been of marrying age since all the things that went down with Aaravos, and they know it isn't over, they know he'll be back, and if it were Ezran, he'd want to make the most of it of the time they have. The only reason they managed last time was because of the Archdragons, and now there are none left but Zym. There's no guarantee they'll be as lucky when he returns.

The knowledge hangs over all of them, a never-lifting cloud of uncertainty, a promise that this peace won't last.

He tries to tell himself that it doesn't matter. The only thing that should tonight is Callum and Rayla and they are happy and in love. Ez tries to bask in it, in the glow of the candles as the evening sun sets, in the music and the laughter as they dance across floor, but the thought is always there, always present, a clock that ticks and ticks and ticks that he can't unhear.

"You look troubled, Your Majesty."

Ez glances up. Aanya is there, a wine glass in hand, her smile soft but understanding.

He chuckles awkwardly. "Who me? I'm never troubled."

"You're a terrible liar, Ez," says Aanya drily, but she chuckles too and raises her glass. "I can leave you be if you like. You just looked lonely over here and my conversation partner was stolen away." She nods at the floor and Ez bites back a laugh when he spots Opeli waltzing with Soren, of all people.

"No," he says, smiling into his own glass. "Stay. I like having you around. It's just... This all feels short-lived, y'know? I know we like to think we won against Aaravos but we all know we just stalled him. He'll be back in a few years, and what then? What are we gonna do?"

Aanya snorts ruefully and takes a sip from her glass. "I don't know," she admits quietly. "His return affects all of us, and all this work..." She sighs. "I'm scared too," she says after a moment. "I think you'd be foolish not to be. But that doesn't mean we can't let ourselves be happy now. Look at your brother. Look at how happy he is to be in love. Do you think he's not scared as well?" She points a finger at the crowd of dancers and Ez spots them: Callum and Rayla tucked against each other, their smiles soft and full of joy.

Ezran sighs, wishing he knew how to enjoy this the way they are. Wishing he knew how to forget. But then Aanya touches his hand and his breath rushes out, her gentleness a comfort against the shadows hanging over them all.

"What are you drinking?" she asks after a moment.

"What? Oh." He flushes. "Just water. I didn't think... I'm not old enough to drink what everyone else is."

Aanya snorts at him, and Ez blinks and peers into her glass.

He gasps. "You're not either."

"I'm a queen," she says shrugging. "Who's going to stop me? Come on. Let's get you something a bit more fun."

Ez stutters a little. Then he laughs. "You're a terrible influence, Your Majesty."

"Only on some days," chuckles Aanya. "Just because we're monarchs, doesn't mean we can't enjoy yourselves, even if it's just for tonight."

She tugs him away and Ez laughs as he lets her, the shadow growing smaller in his mind for the first time in weeks.

Just one night. He can allow himself that.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Toto's obsession p.7

Hey guyss, I hope you enjoy this part and if you've missed part 6 or if you want to read it from the beginning here's my masterlist :)

The afternoon passed in a whirlwind of preparation. You moved around the kitchen with purpose, chopping, stirring, and seasoning with care. Tonight had to go perfectly. You wanted George to see how much Toto cherished you, to feel reassured that this relationship wasn’t some impulsive mistake but something genuine and deep.

You were making George’s favorite dish, hoping it would serve as an olive branch, a way to bridge the gap that had formed between you. The savory aroma of the dish filled the air, and you allowed yourself a small moment of satisfaction—you wanted everything to be just right.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear Toto approach until you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind. He rested his chin on your shoulder, his presence warm and grounding.

“It smells incredible in here,” he murmured, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You smiled, leaning back into his embrace. “I just want tonight to go well. I need George to see that this isn’t some fleeting thing. That you… that we… mean something.”

Toto’s lips brushed against your temple. “He’ll see. Don’t worry so much, schatz. Just relax. Tonight is about family.”

You nodded, trying to take comfort in his words. Toto always had a way of making you feel like everything would be okay, even when doubt crept in.

When the doorbell rang, you felt your nerves spike. Wiping your hands on a towel, you hurried to the door, taking a deep breath before opening it. George stood there, his expression neutral but his eyes cautious. He looked past you, and his jaw tightened slightly when he saw Toto standing further inside, his hands in his pockets, exuding his usual composed demeanor.

“Hi,” you said softly, stepping aside to let George in. “Thank you for coming.”

George’s gaze softened as he looked at you. “I’m here for you,” he said pointedly, his tone making it clear that his presence wasn’t for Toto’s benefit.

Toto stepped forward, extending a hand. “George, good to see you. Thank you for joining us tonight.”

George hesitated for a moment before shaking Toto’s hand briefly. “Let’s just get through this.”

The tension in the room was palpable, but you forced a smile and guided them to the table. “Let’s sit. Dinner’s ready.”

The meal started awkwardly, with you trying to steer the conversation toward neutral topics. Toto, ever the charmer, remained polite and calm, his deep voice filling the silences when George refused to engage. You kept glancing between the two of them, hoping for some breakthrough, but George’s guard was firmly up.

“The food is great,” George said at one point, his tone softening slightly as he addressed you. “Thank you for making this.”

You smiled, relief washing over you. “I’m glad you like it.”

Toto raised his glass. “She’s an exceptional cook. I’m lucky every day.”

George’s lips pressed into a thin line, and the atmosphere grew tense again. You sighed inwardly, deciding to focus on clearing the table and bringing out dessert. “Excuse me for a moment,” you said, standing and gathering the plates. “I’ll get dessert ready.”

As you disappeared into the kitchen, the tension in the dining room erupted. George turned to Toto, his eyes blazing.

“What are you playing at?” George demanded. “Do you think you can just walk into her life and take over? She’s too young for this, too innocent for someone like you.”

Toto’s expression remained calm, his voice measured as he responded. “I love her, George. She makes me happy, and I make her happy. That should be enough.”

“Happy?” George scoffed. “You’re manipulating her, isolating her from her family. She doesn’t see it, but I do.”

Toto leaned forward slightly, his eyes narrowing. “Careful, George. You’re treading on dangerous ground.”

“Is that a threat?” George asked, his voice rising.

“It’s a warning,” Toto replied evenly. “You’re her brother, and I respect that. But if you continue to interfere, you risk more than just our relationship. You’ll risk your career. And worse, you’ll risk losing her entirely. Do you want that?”

George’s fists clenched, his frustration evident. But before he could respond, you reentered the room, oblivious to the tension that had just unfolded.

“Dessert is ready!” you announced cheerfully, carrying in a tray of your homemade creation. You placed it on the table, smiling at both men. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Toto’s expression softened as he looked at you, and he rose from his seat, lifting his glass. “Before we continue, I’d like to make a toast.”

You blinked, surprised, but smiled as you reached for your own glass. George reluctantly did the same, his eyes wary.

“To the woman who has brought so much light into my life,” Toto began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “You’ve shown me a kind of love I didn’t think was possible. And tonight, I want to ask you something important.”

Your heart stopped as Toto reached into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Your hand flew to your mouth, your eyes wide with shock.

“Will you marry me?” he asked, opening the box to reveal a stunning ring.

For a moment, you couldn’t speak. The world seemed to tilt as you processed his words, his expression, and the sheer gravity of the moment. Tears welled in your eyes as you nodded fervently. “Yes,” you whispered, then louder. “Yes!”

Toto slid the ring onto your finger, his hands steady despite the emotion in his eyes. He stood and pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply as George looked on, his jaw tight and his hands gripping the edge of the table.

When you pulled back, you turned to George, your smile faltering slightly at his stony expression. “George,” you began, your voice soft, “I hope you can be happy for us.”

George forced a tight smile, nodding stiffly. “If this is what you want,” he said, his tone clipped.

Toto’s arm tightened around your waist, a silent declaration of his victory.

“Thank you, George,” Toto said smoothly, raising his glass again. “To family.”

You clinked your glass with theirs, blissfully unaware of the unspoken tension that lingered between the two men. For now, you were happy, and that was all that mattered.