#nightly rivals

[galarfiend]

the valley of the dead and the wicked

[tomicscomics]

05/27/2024

Continuing from the previous cartoon, St. Joan of Arc's sleepover scheme ends in DISASTER?! (Yes, this still really happened.)

___

JOKE-OGRAPHY:

1. The Source: This cartoon is based off of characters and events mentioned in St. Joan of Arc's trial. Here are the relevant passages (translated by W. S. Scott): "Asked what [Catherine de La Rochelle] said to her, [Jeanne the Maid] answered that this Catherine said [...] that a woman appeared [to her], a white lady, dressed in cloth of gold [...]. [Jeanne] asked Catherine if this Lady appeared every night; and if so, [Jeanne] would sleep with [Catherine to see her]. And [Jeanne] did so, but kept awake till midnight; saw nothing, and then went to sleep. And when morning came, she asked if the Lady had appeared. And [Catherine] answered that she had come, but [Jeanne] was asleep, and [Catherine] had not been able to wake her."

2. Explanation: Continuing from the last cartoon, St. Joan arrives at Catherine's for their sleepover. She wants to stay awake to see if Catherine's telling the truth about her nightly apparition, but she only stays awake until midnight. The next morning, Catherine tells her the White Lady appeared sometime after Joan fell asleep.

3. Historical / Fiction: The main gist of this story -- Joan's sleepover / stake-out with Catherine -- is historically accurate, based on Joan's account during her trial. In this cartoon, I fill in some gaps and take a few artistic liberties for fun's sake. Here are some of those liberties:

Pierronne: The third wheel in this rivalry, Pierronne the Breton, is not mentioned in the actual sleepover story, but I included her in this cartoon because I wanted a third character to offset the tension with a positive naïveté.

Midnight: In the original account, Joan says she stayed awake until midnight, saw nothing, then went to sleep. This could mean that she chose midnight as her limit and deliberately went to sleep after that, or it could mean that she meant to stay awake longer but could only manage to stay awake until midnight. In this cartoon, I went with the second interpretation, because it flavors Joan's failure to stay awake as a failure of ability, not a failure of judgment. To me, that makes Catherine's claim that the White Lady appeared shortly after all the more devastating, but I really could've gone either way.

Catherine: At the end of Joan's account of the story, Catherine tells her that the White Lady appeared after Joan had gone to sleep, and that Catherine had even tried and failed to wake Joan when the Lady arrived. Though it sounds like a weak lie in the actual story, in this cartoon, I flavored it as cruel gloating, which I think feeds into their rivalry a little better.

[declareqenius]

some would sing and some would scream

summary: your girlfriends are two of the best mob bosses in the city. you and natasha were out for a nightly walk, both feeling restless as you awaited wanda’s return from a business trip. it was going well, until someone got the jump on both of you. 

pairings: WandaNat x Reader

warnings: blood, violence, knives, being tied up, stabbing, passing out

a/n: hey guys! here’s another one. i have no idea how mobs work, which is probably a good thing, but i hope it makes enough sense. second part, anyone? let me know what you think! wanda is barely here but is mentioned throughout. 

Part 1 | Part 2 

It’s been days since you and Natasha have seen Wanda. Days, maybe a week, since you were both taken by the henchmen of an enemy family; the Celestials. They have nerve, you’ll give them that, but you know as soon as Wanda and the rest of your family finds your location, they won’t know what hit them. 

The metal chair is cold against your legs and the restraints around your wrists are digging uncomfortably into your skin. You know the more you struggle, the worse it will be, but you need to at least try. There are cuts on either cheek and one gash on your thigh- which is exposed because you decided to wear shorts that fated day. You started regretting your decision yesterday because they kept their torture room freezing, and although you reside in New York, the cold has never been- and never will be- your friend. 

Natasha sits next you in a chair identical to yours. Her restraints are different, though, and it’s obvious the Celestials know how big of a threat she is. She’s continuously struggled to get out of them and your heart pangs in your chest because part of you knows it’s because she hates seeing you hurt. 

Your girlfriend is safe from cuts and gashes and it’s all due to them wanting to get under her skin. They know of the relationship you share with the two powerful mob leaders, and they’re trying to use it to their advantage. 

Natasha doesn’t break easily. Neither does Wanda. Everyone knows this, including you, but Nat barely lasted ten minutes when Najma- the leader of the Celestials- started dragging the knife across your thigh. She begged her to take her instead, but Najma was quick to assure that any torture you faced would be dragged out. 

“Nat. Stop. You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep struggling.” Your firm voice cuts through the thick silence and leaves no room for argument. You’d stopped struggling five minutes ago when you realized it wouldn’t help, but Natasha kept it up and the redness around her wrists started to worry you. 

“I need to get out before they come in again. Need to get you untied.” Her voice is gravelly and preoccupied, and her plight is obvious. The only thoughts swarming her head are about getting you out of there unharmed. 

“And then what? You fight them off with nothing and we die trying to escape? We leave Wanda alone? She’ll never forgive us for that. We have to think about this, Natasha.” 

You’re honestly surprised how calm you were, considering the situation. But you know Wanda is on a murderous rampage and Natasha is going through anger induced anxiety at the mere thought of either of you not making it out of this, so you’re left being the reasonable one. 

“I am thinking about this, Y/N!” 

Her chair clangs to a halt as she stops struggling with a frustrated huff. You know that if the two of you weren’t in the hands of your family’s greatest rival, then your girlfriend would let her tears flow free. The only sign that she had any intent of crying before she remembered where you were was her red nose. 

“I’m thinking about it,” she says defeatedly, yet firmly. “Najma is going to come back any minute and she is going to harm you in unimaginable ways and I can’t stop her because I’m tied to this stupid fucking chair.” 

“Natty,” you say softly, “look at me, please?” 

God, you wish you could reach out and touch her. It takes a moment for her to find some semblance of composure so she can look you in the eyes instead of staring guiltily at the gash in your thigh. 

“Listen to me, okay? I need you to hear me,” you start, waiting until Natasha subtly nods her head to continue, “You aren’t going to tell them anything. No matter what they do to me-” 

“But-” 

“No. Listen. Whatever they do to me, I need you to grin and bear it until Wanda gets here or you have a secure plan to get us out. It’s going to be painful for both of us, but I’m a big girl, I can handle it, okay?” 

“Detka, I don’t know if I can-” 

“Natalia. I knew what I was getting into the moment you and Wanda told me what you did for a living. I knew it would happen eventually. There’s only so much protecting my knights in shining fedoras,” you give her a gentle grin at your joke, “can do. I need you to promise me. No matter how much pain I’m in. We need to wait it out. That’s all we can do right now, my love.” 

Natasha looks like she desperately wants to argue again, but you both know she’s only got so much fight left and she needs to save it for when Najma comes back. You try not to imagine what the leader of the Celestials has in store for you; which ways your body will be bloodied and scarred, but it’s hard when Natasha’s brain is going a mile a minute and the blood from the gash on your leg won’t stop dripping down your thigh. 

“Do you remember our very first date?” You ask, a small smile on your face as you look up at your girlfriend. 

“Malysh-” 

“Nat, please. I can’t sit in silence.” 

She sighs and looks away for a moment. To compose herself. You fear that sentence nearly sent her over the edge, but a moment later she nods. 

“Like it was yesterday. Wands and I had thirty minutes to clean ourselves up after having gotten back from taking care of something. We were so worried we were going to be late, and so we texted you that work held us up for longer than we anticipated. You were so patient with us. You still are so patient with us.” 

“Have to be with you two. Who knows what kind of trouble you got into when it was just the both of you parading around. Someone has to keep you in check, make sure you have something, someone to come home to. Both of you.” 

“And we cherish every moment we get to spend with you, detka.” 

Natasha says it so sincerely and it pushes you over the edge. Your eyes start watering and while it’s not a full-on sob, your tears do fall because you know where Natasha’s mind has gone. Where it has been this entire time. 

Then, it feels as if all the air in the room is sucked out. All the love you felt from Natasha moments ago is gone when you see her face switch to one you had only seen a handful of times. Your girlfriends try to keep you out of the business as much as they can, but you were still privy to some things. Natasha’s expression looked distant and blank, and you hear clapping from the far right corner of the room. 

Your heart sinks to your stomach, but you keep your features neutral. 

Najma. 

“Aw, how sweet. Quite a show you both put on. If this were reality television, my family would be rooting for you. Little lovebirds. It’s a shame your other girlfriend isn’t here. I’m sure it would spice things up.” 

“If she were here, you would be dead already,” you snark. 

“Dorogoy-” Natasha starts in warning, but Najma is quick to cut her off. 

“It’s okay, Ms. Romanova. She won’t be able to... joke around much once I’m done with her. I must say, I have been quite lenient and I am a sucker for a love story, but I fear it is time to get some answers. So, every time you refuse to answer one of my questions, your little girlfriend here will endure some kind of pain. Haven’t decided yet. Won’t decide until that moment. Whatever feels right, I suppose. Nod to let me know you understand.” 

Natasha nods. 

Your eyes bore holes into the side of her head and you hope she hears your pleas. Your reminders. 

“Good. We’ll start off easy, then.” Najma takes her knife out of her boot and slowly walks over to you. She places the tip on your upper arm. The way she’s looking at you, as if you were a turkey to be carved instead of eaten and enjoyed, chills you to the bone. 

“What is your name?” Najma directs the question towards Natasha. 

“Natasha Romanova-Maximoff.” 

“Hm. That’ll do. What is your wife’s name?” 

“Wanda Romanova-Maximoff.” 

These were all answers that Najma knew already, and you’re unsure of why she’s wasting time. Not that you’re complaining. The more time she takes to interrogate Natasha, the more time Wanda has to find you both. The only name Najma shouldn’t know is yours. Natasha hasn’t once used it since you’ve been kidnapped, and you figure it’s for a reason. Your only family is the one you were welcomed into when you officially became Wanda and Natasha’s girlfriend, but your name not being out there kept you safer. 

“And what is your girlfriend’s name?” 

There it is. 

You glance at Natasha, fully aware of the knife on your arm but deeming it safe enough to move the slightest amount. Natasha’s eyes catch yours and you don’t have to plead with her this time. Her decision was made the moment her green eyes met your own. 

Keeping your name a secret gives both of you a better chance when Wanda breaks the both of you out of this place. 

So, when Natasha moves her eyes from yours to look at Najma, you prepare yourself for the pain. 

The redhead doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. Najma knows it isn’t a question she’s going to answer simply by the blank determination written across her face. 

“Very well then,” the Celestial leader says, bored as she drags the knife slowly across your upper arm. 

You stare at Natasha the entire time. 

Natasha stares at your arm, and you know it is her way of punishing herself. 

As if being locked in a freezing room with no way out wasn’t punishment enough. Your girlfriend forces herself to watch as one of her foes marks your body with their knife. Their torture. 

It makes her angry and she clenches both her jaw and her fists to keep herself from pulling on the restraints, having learned her lesson twenty minutes earlier. 

Wanda will never let her live this down. 

You’re glad it’s not Wanda with you. She would have been able to kill everyone by now, but if they had put special cuffs on her and made her watch as they tortured you, you know she would have given everything up to ensure you lived. 

You appreciate how much your girls love you, but the family wouldn’t have been able to take that kind of hit. So, you’re glad it’s Natasha who is with you, and maybe you’ll get the chance to reiterate that to Wanda someday soon. It will surely keep them from biting each other’s heads off while you’re recovering. 

“Next question.” 

You can hear the Cheshire Cat-like grin Najma wore as she placed the knife in a different spot on your body. This time, your thigh, about two inches higher than the first gash she gave you. 

“Where is the Mind stone?” 

Again, Natasha doesn’t answer and you audibly keel over in pain when the knife creates an identical gash to the one that came before it. 

Again, Natasha watched the knife slide across your thigh. 

“Hard eggs to crack, but I have only just begun.” 

Now, Najma is in front of you and you barely have enough time to process the cool metal of the knife being dragged down your face. Your breathing is heavy, but you muster the most spiteful expression you can. 

“I would really hate to see this beautiful face marred, Natasha. It would be such a shame. She could pose for those magazines. I hear it is great work, but enough small talk. Maybe I won’t have to mar your beautiful face, my little paaltoo.”

You decide then that you only like Urdu when Kamala speaks it. 

“All Natasha has to do is give me the location of the Mind stone and your pretty little face will go unmarked. Don’t worry, it will only hurt a little bit. It’s more of a... reminder for your lovers.” 

Even if your girlfriend’s face remains neutral, you can tell she’s seething on the inside. You glance at her for a moment and you know that you need to stall more. Enough for Wanda to find both of you. Nat can’t do anything but not answer Najma’s questions, and eventually Najma will tire of the game she’s playing. Who knows what that would look like? You doubt she would kill you quickly and undermine the work she’s already done on you, but if Najma doesn’t have something to quell her violent hunger, you don’t know what will happen to you or Natasha. 

So, you have to keep Najma entertained. Interested. Piece of cake. 

When you know that her focus is on Natasha’s expression and not your “pretty little face”, you send a guilty look to your girlfriend. Better to ask for forgiveness later. Then, you muster up all your courage and remember all the times you’ve seen Wanda and Natasha interrogate people, and you speak.

“What makes you think Natasha will talk? You’ve gotten this far and she hasn’t said a word. Maybe she doesn’t care about me as much as you think she does.”

“Mm, you’re not going to get me that easy my little paaltoo, I hear how she speaks to you. How she looks at you. And how she seethes every time my blade runs across your delicate skin. The love this woman holds for you is insurmountable. Don’t think me a fool.” 

“You picked the wrong one.” 

“Excuse me?” 

Blood runs down the side of your arm and thigh and you’ve long forgotten how to feel the searing pain. 

“The wrong girlfriend. You should’ve picked Wanda. Natasha is tough to crack but she’s been through a lot. Wanda, though? Wanda has a heart of gold and the sight of me in danger would have had her spilling all of her secrets. Or it would have sent her on a murderous rampage and we’d be out of here already, but you never know. All I’m saying is that Wanda would have given you so much more than Natasha ever will.” 

Your nonchalance must have been jarring to both the women in the room, and you’re certain that Yelena, your best friend, would have been proud of you. 

“I’m holding a knife to your face and you have the audacity to judge my methods?” 

Najma pierces your skin with the point of the blade and it almost makes you laugh. 

“What are you going to do? Kill me? You would lose leverage over Wanda and Natasha. You wouldn’t give that up so easily.” 

“And what makes you think I couldn’t find something else they hold dear to them?” 

“You would be searching for the rest of your life.” 

It’s a big statement. Words that probably hold a lot more weight than anything you have ever said before, but you’re aware of what you mean to your girlfriends. How all of you balance each other out in ways that no one expects upon first meeting the three of you. In fact, you’re so certain of your feelings for them and vice versa, that if you make it out of this alive, then you’re going to propose to them. 

Wanda would absolutely kill Natasha if you didn’t make it out of this alive. Guilt would eat both of them up, but better one of you makes it out than neither of you. 

Another slash of the knife on your cheek and you can feel the sting of the blade as Najma follows all the way through with a flick of her wrist. 

“Natasha, tell you girlfriend to shut up.” 

“I’ve never listened to Natasha.” You’re a bit of a brat sometimes, it’s true. “Besides, I’m going to bleed out soon anyway. Then my lovely girlfriend won’t have anyone to talk to. That would be such a shame because I’m a gem.” 

You decide then that you’ve stalled long enough, and really all you did was give your already gushing wounds time to bleed even more. The light headedness is starting to catch up to you and you sincerely hope that you’ve done enough. 

Najma doesn’t pay any mind to your talking, probably realizing what exactly it is that you were doing, and instead she focuses on Natasha again. 

“I will ask one more time.” 

This time Najma positions the knife in front of your stomach and you don’t know if she’s going to stab you or cut you, but you’re not sure she knows either. Frantic green eyes lock onto yours as you get a good look at Natasha. Your eyes are calm as you try memorize everything from the way her braid sits on the side of her shoulder to the perfect shape of her lips. Fear pulses through you and you know that somehow it is not entirely your own, but you shake your head all the same. 

You will not be the reason your family falls. You will not be the reason that Wanda and Natasha have no home to go back to. 

“Where. Is. The Mind stone?” 

Nat’s eyes are pleading but yours remain blank and you know she has to bring forth years and years of training to look away from you and instead at Najma. So the woman holding the knife can see the defiance in her eyes along with her lips pursed in a straight line. Natasha isn’t going to say a word. 

The knife plunges into your left side and you don’t scream, you aren’t going to give your captor that satisfaction, but the sound you do make is enough to have Natasha looking away and a single tear rolling down her cheek. To your confusion, though, Najma doesn’t withdraw the weapon. She leaves the blade inside of you and brushes off her hands before grabbing you by the chin so you can look directly in her eyes.

“Don’t breathe too hard, my little paaltoo, otherwise a vital organ will be caught and I would so love to torture you more later.” 

With that, she lets go of you and walks out. You think that having to look into that woman’s eyes was worse than any of the torture she’s inflicted on you. 

“Natty,” you breathe, voice worn and your eyes wanting to shut already. You’ve never been stabbed before and the pain plus your other wounds is too much. 

“Detka, I’m so sorry,” Natasha’s voice breaks and your heart aches for her. 

“Shhh. Don’t apologize, my love.” Breathing is starting to get really hard. “Natty I need to tell you something.” 

“Anything, malyshka.” 

You know Nat is desperate to keep you talking. Keep you awake. Alive. You don’t want to give up just yet. Wands will be here soon, you can feel it. 

“I think,” your head lolls to the side for a moment, “I think I only,” you breathe in and out, “like Urdu when Kamala,” you swallow because your mouth feels really dry all of a sudden, “speaks it.” 

“Me too, detka. Me too.” 

You can feel yourself fading, and you don’t think the knife has hit anything vital yet, but maybe a nap would help lessen the pain. Just a quick one. 

Your head lolls forward and it jostles the blade a little. You can hear Natasha’s panic, how her voice wavers and breaks as she addresses you. 

“Detka, baby, you’re doing so good for me, love. You’ve done so good. I need you to hold on just a little bit longer, okay? Just a little longer. For Wanda. Please, baby. Need you to stay awake.” 

You blink your eyes open and muster enough strength to look up at her. 

“I’m so tired, Natty.” 

“I know, baby. I know, but I need you for just a little longer, okay?”

“I don’t know if I can, Natty.” 

Breathing hurts and blood is sticky. Your head once again droops forward.

“Please. Please, Y/N!” 

Natasha’s cries are suddenly drowned out by the door opening. You assume it’s Najma, because even in your drowsy state, you didn’t miss the fact that Natasha screamed your name. 

But then there’s an explosion and you’re able to open your eyes just enough to see swirls of scarlet red surrounding the room. You can’t hang on any longer, but you hope that Wanda and Natasha will forgive you as you finally let your eyes close all the way and your body slump forward in the metal chair you were tied to. 

The last thing you felt was Natasha’s hands on you, trying to wake you up, and the last thing you heard was Wanda’s agonizing screams.

[ma1dita]

its 10pm again.... 😈😈

rivals with benefits Luke who makes everything a competition. even in bed. 😼

IM ALSO SO SORRY FOR FLOODING UR INBOX

MDNI

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: liv we're boxing because i literally could not rest until i got this right,,,, smut. public sex. wrap before you tap. creampie. all the nasty things. fuck man...

wc: 968

“That’s a point for me,” Luke says with a menacing grin. The both of you are soaked to the bone after paddling across Canoe Lake to see who could make it to the other end the fastest, and as you gasp for air while holding onto the wood post of the pier, you can’t help but somehow be convinced that he cheated.

“You’re built like a frog with those long legs of yours, how the fuck was I supposed to win?”

Daybreak spreads slowly across Camp Half-Blood, sunlight kissing where the sky meets the water and Luke thinks he wants to kiss you. Knows it, actually—deep down to his bones that the line between hatred and love must be lust.

He swims closer to you like a predator creeping toward his prey, wet curls stuck to his forehead as he admires how hard you’re breathing. You’re right there, and since you like to make a competition of everything from capture the flag strategies to how many campers you both can get to screech at nightly sing-a-longs, he thinks he has an offer you won’t be able to resist. Luke’s hands glide under your shirt as the both of you tread water, still fighting for dominance even when it comes to who takes up the most space to stay afloat. You lick your lips, fingers tugging at his camp necklace as you look at him curiously and raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve got an idea…”

“I’ll start my prayers,” you smirk, before seeing the hot burning want in his gaze. You can feel it in his fingers as they brush the underside of your breasts, nipples stiff in the frigid water. Shaking your head, a nervous giggle leaves you as your arms circle his neck, bodies separated by your thin, sopping nightshirt. If he touches the rest of you, he’ll find other parts that are wet too, warm enough to brave the chill of the morning breeze that settles upon your shoulders.

“The nymphs might see…” you whisper, even though the both of you know not a single soul is awake right now but time is running out like sand in an hourglass.

“You backing down?”

The kiss you press into his open mouth is a clear enough answer—tongues sliding and spearing against each other, hot and angry and bruising. It’s a fair shot, not knowing who’s going to come out on top.

—

“Oh, gods, please!”

Your hands and knees are scraping in the rocks and sand of the shoreline underneath the pier as Luke pistons into you at an alarming rate, each thrust a blow to your senses. He watches your head bob up towards the sky almost in reverent prayer and he’s grinning, continually sinking into your warmth while the rest of him shudders from the cold. Luke’s cock works inside your slick hole instead of against it, and he laughs at the irony of you finally letting him have his way. Your fingernails dig into the coarse beach, grains of sand making their way through every crevice as he fills your pulsing one with glee.

“Fucking knew you’d behave…” he grunts, one hand pulling at the thin cloth around your waist and the other holds onto your stomach so he can feel himself bludgeon you from the inside. “Can’t fight back when you’re getting your brains fucked out, hmm?” 

He watches your pretty tits swing from the stretched out opening of your soggy shirt as you choke out a sob of pleasure.

“Yes…f-fuck Luke,” you whine, reaching back to ease your hand against his abdomen but he pulls it behind your back to use as a better hold on you. Luke puts two of his fingers in your mouth and they prod at the skin of your cheek, spit dripping around the digits.

Despite the intrusion, you’re groaning loud enough over the icy smacks against your skin that for a moment he thinks it might actually wake the forest nymphs, but then he’s distracted by your pussy pushing and pulling him as his hips clap against your ass, leaving them raw for days to come. Light waves crash against the shore with your movements, splashing against your knees and you’re giggling at him with a dazed grin as you push your hips back harder against his thrusts, overpowering his control over you. 

He swallows thickly, groaning through the building sensation in his stomach as you rock back onto his cock faster and with the purpose of taking him down and winning. The both of you work in tandem as you writhe against each other in a battle to reach the end, unsure of if you’re with him or against him but gods, it feels so fucking good being under him.

“M’so close…Don’t fucking stop,” you shudder, and Luke shuts his eyes hard and takes a deep breath. Even if all 12 Olympians came down right now to smite him he wouldn’t be able to pull out. 

So he doesn’t. 

He couldn’t even if he tried—he cums so hard, his front meeting your back as you fall into the sand with a muffled yelp and he’s pumping thick rods of his release into your pussy. You shiver under him slightly until you realize your belly is warm from his efforts.

“That’s gotta be like 5 or 10 points,” Luke pants, nipping at your shoulder before he sits up. You’re laying there, ass up and motionless so he slaps a cheek before you start laughing.

“For me. At least you came,” you drone, having been on the brink of an orgasm.

He couldn’t argue with that. So he flips you onto your back and eats you out (sand and slick and all) until he’s ready again and by the time the morning bell rings, you’ve both lost track of who’s won your so-called competition.

[tofuxtea]

𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊 + “𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐑” 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒 | 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 + 𝙘𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — dracule mihawk x fem!reader x shanks

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, threesome, cuckholding, fingering, praise (shanks), teasing + edging (mihawk), reader is shanks’ lover, shanks has both arms for the sake of the plot, porn with plot, “mama” and “sweetheart” are used by shanks, “darling” and “naughty girl” are used by mihawk, p in v sex, shanks watches mihawk fuck his girl and gets off to it!

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — 2.7k words. got this idea from the ending scene where mihawk brings shanks luffy’s wanted poster. they gave such divorced husbands energy and i fucking loved it so much. also what i wouldn’t kill to be in between these two anyways ??! [kinktober m.list]

“bring out the reserve booze, boys.”

your captain had loudly cheered upon discovering the bounty that had been set on an old apprentice of his. that was nearly four hours ago, a rowdy party slowly beginning to wind down.

a majority of your fellow crew-mates had passed out by now, strewn out around in the sand and drunkenly muttering incoherencies in their sleep. the rest were sharing stories by the fire they were lighting, seeing as the sun was giving its final fiery orange hue from the horizon. night would come not long after.

you were still among the living, slowly working on your third cup of the night while swinging in shanks’ hammock. the man himself was busy with the remnants of his crew while they started the nightly bonfire, laughing and celebrating with them.

you smiled towards the man before you broke out into a yawn, realizing you had partied pretty hard that night. it was starting to wind down anyways, who was going to miss you for the rest of it?

so you stumbled out of the hammock with your drink in your hand and started to where the red force had been docked for the week, pausing when you heard a familiar voice calling for you.

“where’re you off to, sweetheart?” shanks asked, playfully swatting at beckman and roux as they not-so-quietly shot suggestive jokes at their captain.

you only smiled back. “off to the ship. you can come join me in a few if you’d like.” you remarked before strutting off, shaking your head as you walked when you heard the boys’ whoops and shouts at the wink you’d given him.

you trekked through the sand for a while before you were aboard the red force, heading straight for yours and shanks sleeping quarters. yet once you ducked inside the dinette, you were stopped short with a shout.

mihawk, shanks’ old rival and the one who had informed them of one monkey d. luffy’s bounty, sat at the dining bench, yellow eyes piercing right through you the second you walked in. “good god, mihawk.” you clutched your chest. “what’re you doin’ in here?” you asked him, laughing lightly.

“the party’s out there, you know.” he replied lazily, swirling the glass he had definitely taken from the ship’s cupboard before taking a sip.

“i should be telling you that.” you squinted warily at his cup. “that better not be shanks’ stashed booze.”

oh, it most definitely was. you could tell by the color alone. how he’d even found it was a mystery, though. he never told anybody where he hid his special liquor. but you only rolled your eyes and took a seat beside him, slumping back with a sigh. “party’s almost over.” you replied softly. “i’m surprised you stayed for so long. figured you’d have a lotta marine work to tend to.”

“i don’t work for them.” mihawk quickly shot you a narrow glance. then he paused and his eyes lowered to his cup. “i’m surprised he asked me to stay.”

“ah.” you nodded understandingly as you took a sip of your own drink. “i was, too. it’s been a while since we’ve last seen you, you know.”

mihawk seemed to pick up on the little underlying suggestiveness in your voice and you noticed his eyebrows pinch together. but it wasn’t hardly the reaction you wanted.

truth was, you’d known him since he was shanks’ rival. the two engaged in battles constantly when they were younger, but over the years they grew farther and farther apart until they just stopped.

the two seemed to form a strange alliance a couple of years ago, which had unintentionally blossomed into something much more not long after that. with you being a key member of shanks’ crew and his lover, you often joined the two for drinks whenever they were together.

sometimes you guys would have too many. the first time it ever happened, it was completely unexpected. it was most definitely the alcohol that had you straddling mihawk’s lap, bucking into the hand between your legs while shanks watched the both of you, painfully hard in his pants.

the second time, however, was not the alcohol anymore. nor were the handful of times after that.

it went on for months. you were shared between the two men more times than you could count on your two hands. it had gotten to the point where you believed mihawk only wanted to pop up for drinks for that reason alone, seeing as the man would vanish not long after you and shanks would knock out. then, as his and shanks’ battles had been, he stopped coming by as often. and then he stopped completely.

the two of you tried to keep regular tabs on the man — not necessarily out of concern for his safety seeing as he had been deemed one of the seven warlords of the sea, but out of sheer curiosity — but eventually it became a second thought. while shanks was well aware that mihawk would never get off of his tail for any reason, you doubted that. at first you believed he was bored of the two of you. maybe he was looking for something new, which didn’t tie you into knots. maybe it was partly out of shame.

shame from having drunkenly fucked his old rival’s lover right in front of him. shame from having done it over and over for months. shame from having enjoyed it a little bit too much.

no matter the reason he once had, he was back now. he’d traveled from wherever he had once been to give shanks a piece of paper. a piece of paper that the crew would have stumbled onto regardless — seeing as the bounty that they were celebrating was the highest in all of the east blue. the kid would’ve become a ship-hold name in no time. and as you stared at the side of mihawk’s motionless face, you knew that he knew that, too.

“you’ve missed me, darling?” you knew he was baiting you the second that name left his mouth, and fortunately for him it was working. your lips slowly curled upwards into an impish smirk and you breathed out a weak laugh.

“you could say that.” you replied with a shrug. you weren’t planning on losing to his games so quickly. he’d made you wait so damn long, after all. “didn’t you?” feigning cluelessness, you leaned into him and slid your palm over his clothed leg.

mihawk didn’t flinch, glancing first at the hand that slowly started moving upwards and then into your eyes. for the first time that night, he stared at you. his eyes were squinted slightly like he was questioning your actions, even though he was well aware of what you were doing.

part of you had not an inkling of knowledge of what he was thinking about. he’d left his cup onto the table in front of him, letting you know you had his attention, but his expression was unreadable, as was his body. but all it took was one look into his yellow eyes that washed away all of your doubt. those never lied to you. you looked down at his lips, running your tongue over your own as you found yourself craving him. his touch, his lips, him.

he brought his hand up to your face, gently pinching your jaw between his fingers as he tilted your head back just a little bit. “i did.” he finally admitted after a long and tense silence. he spoke quietly now, like if he was even slightly too loud, the moment would end.

yet it still did. a noise coming from the entrance made both of your heads turn, and shanks froze as he shut the door behind him, eyeing the scene before him. then he broke out into a wide grin. “i see you got to her before i could.” he took his bottom lip between his teeth as he strode up to the table, eyeing you like a piece of meat. “how ‘bout we take this to bed before the others come lookin’ f’me, hm?”

you could smell the booze on his breath as he pulled you to your feet. you followed him to the room you shared with him, mihawk at your side with his hand pressed into the small of your back. you swore you could see a gentle smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he walked, but you’d forgotten all about it once the door shut behind you and shanks pounced on you.

his lips crashed onto yours, wasting no time to push his tongue into your mouth. you moaned, all of the fight leaving your body as he guided you towards the bed. he had a tight grip on your wrist, his other hand squeezing your exposed hip with lust-fueled fervor. you could feel mihawk’s gaze on the both of you and soon you heard his coat hit the ground. your top was next, shanks releasing you only to peel the tight shirt from your torso and toss it aside.

both pairs of eyes shamelessly raked down your naked body, shanks wasting no time to get rid of your shorts next.

“don’t just stare now, mihawk.” you spoke with a devilish smile as you sat yourself on the edge of the bed. the man got the message and followed you, slotting himself between your legs and caging you between his arms. you gently squeezed his hips with your thighs with a giggle before pulling him down into a heated kiss, grasping the brim of his hat and throwing it into the growing pile of clothes on the floor. mihawk groaned against your lips and he bucked into your clothed heat, drawing a whine from you.

your fingers raked through his hair, pulling at his dark ruffled curls each time he would rock his hips into yours. “mihawk,” you purred his name into his ear the moment he pulled away, enjoying the way his breath slightly hitched at the sound of your voice. your hand dove between your bodies and you desperately tugged at the waistband of his pants. “please. need you so badly.” you mindlessly babbled on.

“i’ve never seen her this desperate,” shanks whispered as he crept up behind you on the bed. “c’mon, mama, use your words. tell him where you want him.” the red-haired man looped his arms underneath your armpits, pulling you flush against his chest. he spoke tauntingly, a shit-eating smirk on his face as he looked down at you.

you whined, eyes squeezing shut with what felt like agonizing pain. “need you inside me, please.” you writhed in shanks’ hold, trying to rut up into mihawk’s clothed erection.

“you’ve already made her wait this long.” shanks now stared at mihawk with a lazy grin, waiting to see what he’d do next.

he shot shanks a narrow glance before turning back to you, eyeing the tears that were welling in your waterline because of him. “i suppose i have.” your eyes lit up at his confession and you waited for him to fulfill your wishes.

instead, he lifted himself off of you, completely deaf to your garbled protests, and lowered himself onto his knees beside the bed. you jumped when he pressed the pad of his finger against the damp spot on your panties, his eyes finding yours. “already so wet and i haven’t even touched you yet. naughty girl.” he spoke lowly as he hooked his slender fingers into the waistband of your panties and peeled them down your legs.

mihawk hooked your legs over his shoulders as he pressed a gentle kiss to your inner thigh. you very poorly bit back a cry and let your head fall back onto shanks’ shoulder. he laughed softly.

“so noisy already, aren’t ya, sweetheart?”

mihawk’s lips drew closer and closer to where you needed him most, drinking up every single noise you made because of him. his hand left your thigh and he started circling your clit with his thumb, watching your face morph with pleasure. you writhed around, wanting so desperately to squeeze your legs shut or card your fingers through his hair, but shanks had your arms restrained behind your back.

you bit your lip to keep your cries from spilling out each time mihawk brushed over your sensitive clit. the sensation was already winding up the coil in your gut and you could feel your orgasm building up fast.

“c’mon, sweetheart, let us hear those pretty noises. for us, hm?” shanks cooed into your ear, one of his arms releasing its hold on you to grasp your jaw, his thumb pushing past your lips and onto the flat of your tongue.

you gasped at the intrusion, and mihawk took your moment of weakness to slide his middle and ring fingers into your cunt. you choked against an obscene moan, and your walls clenched around his digits.

“there we go.” shanks mumbled, satisfied as more and more moans spilled from your mouth with each thrust of mihawk’s fingers. “ya sound so pretty for us, mama.”

mihawk was unrelenting, thrusting his fingers inside of you to the knuckle and keeping the pace he knew melted you every time. he could sense your orgasm nearing as your cries grew higher and your thighs started to tremble in his grasp.

he kept going until you were just about to come crashing down, your eyes squeezed shut with anticipation when he suddenly pulled his fingers out.

a sob tore from your throat. “no, nonono, mihawk!” you tried to chase after him as he lifted himself to his feet, but shanks held you securely in place.

it was pitiful, really.

“no need to cry, darling, you’ll get what you want.” mihawk towered over you, gently wiping the fat tear that had rolled down your temple. it was then that you became aware of the distance shanks had put between you and himself. your arms were freed from his grasp, but it wasn’t like you had the strength or mind to use them.

mihawk’s other hand swiftly nudged his pants down his hips, just enough to free his hard cock, before swooping down to catch you in a deep kiss. you moaned into his mouth, drinking in the taste of booze that still lingered on his tongue.

the man pushed himself inside of you, groaning softly into your ear as your velvety walls sucked him in. you cried out and grasped his arms to try to keep yourself grounded. “mihawk!” you moaned when he started thrusting, his pace already unrelenting.

you could hear shanks just beside you, groaning lowly at the sight before him while he jerked his aching cock in his fist. he stared at your face, which was twisted up with utter pleasure, through hooded lids.

a cry slipped from your lips with each of mihawk’s slow, deep thrusts. it was a feeling so familiar yet so foreign after so long of not having him. you’d almost forgotten how perfectly he filled you up, how he was able to hit every single blissful spot inside of you.

you clung to him, your nails gently digging into his skin while he planted sloppy kisses to your neck. you knew they would blossom into bruises that you wouldn’t be able to explain to the rest of the crew the next day.

it didn’t take much longer before you were close, barely able to warn mihawk of your quickly approaching orgasm. but he already knew. he could tell by the way your eyes squeezed shut and how your whines had gotten much higher than before.

“that’s it, darling. just let go.” his palm soothingly slid up and down the side of your waist while he fucked you through your orgasm. your knuckles went white with how tightly you held his biceps and your head lulled back as a string of incoherent curses and moans flew from your swollen lips.

shanks’ breath hitched at the unfolding scene. “fuck, you look so pretty when you come, sweetheart. just for us.” he spoke against gritted teeth as his own orgasm washed over him, thick ropes of cum painting his own hand.

mihawk pulled out moments later, his seed landing on your lower stomach with a groan. his hooded eyes lingered on your cunt, messy with your own cum as it started to drip out of you. the sight nearly made him hard again within seconds.

you laid still, taking a minute to catch your breath when a low laugh from shanks made you pick your head back up.

“don’t fall asleep on us now, mama, we ain’t done yet.”

something about shanks and the word “mama” has done something irreversible and irreparable to my brain chemistry.

[iimplicitt]

SELFISH | LN4

pairings: lando norris x fem! reader

request!

summary: Lando and you can’t seem to agree on whether or not to go public with your relationship, but after two years together you’re getting tired of it. His stress from the championship isn’t exactly making it easy to have a conversation with him, in fact it usually ends up in a fight… among other things.

warnings; smut 18+, unprotected sex (stay safe), slapping/hitting, choking, jealousy, toxic! lando, secret relationship, angry sex, make up sex, sprinkle of fluff, and max being baby girl

wc: 3.4k

You were a natural flirt, according to many people who knew you. Personally, you thought you were just being nice. Just because you smiled at a guy or gave him a hug, that didn’t mean you wanted to get into his pants.

You preferred the word charming. Charismatic, perhaps. However, your boyfriend wasn’t a fan. Really, what guy would be? Especially when the men you were surrounded by were for the most part attractive, wealthy race car drivers.

You and Lando had gotten into yet another fight. It seemed like a nightly occurrence these days. You wanted to go public with the relationship and he didn’t. For a while you didn’t mind. After two years together though, sneaking around was more and more of a chore. You knew you could handle it, and the pair of you had already been through hell together. So why keep hiding? You didn’t get it and he could never give you a clear answer that seemed justifiable.

Any response he did give was from a place of pure possession and jealousy. He wanted you all to himself. And for some reason he couldn’t get it through his head that even when the world did know about your relationship, he would still be the only man for you.

Besides, you weren’t necessarily the type of woman men came flocking to in DM’s. Sure, once you did go public there would be more media attention but you knew you could handle it. In the worst case scenario, you’d just delete whatever app and move on with your life.

For some reason, Lando didn’t think it was that simple. It never was with him. When you were out, any man who looked in your direction always got a death glare from the British driver. It was getting a little ridiculous. Lando wasn’t controlling by any means, but it felt like you couldn’t go anywhere without him thinking some random guy would hit on you.

Even if that did end up happening, so what? You never gave them the time of day anyway so you didn’t see why it mattered.

Regardless, as you walked into the paddock that morning, annoyance at him still had all of your nerves in a tight bunch. He had left the hotel at an ungodly hour without so much as a goodbye. He didn’t think he had to apologize for blowing everything out of proportion and you were too stubborn to forgive and forget.

Waving hello with a tight smile as you passed people, you came to a halt in front of Red Bull as someone called your name.

Arching a brow, it took you a moment before you realised it was Max who was waving an arm at you. An easy smile easily replaced your tense one, you and the Dutch man have always gotten along well.

“Good morning,” you greeted as he approached you with two cups of coffee.

Max smiled at you warmly, his cheeks and nose slightly red from the Spanish sun. He set down the coffees and gave you a hug, something you didn’t even have to think about. It was a common form of a hello between the two of you, though it hadn’t happened in awhile.

Not only with how hectic the season has been, but Lando had had a stick up his ass about your friendship with the Red Bull driver. You knew they were rivals in the championship, but throwing away a many years long friendship over a trophy seemed ridiculous in your mind.

He smelt like apples and cinnamon and the scent was comforting and new, knowing he had probably just used whatever was in the hotel bathroom to shower.

“You ready for today?” You asked, pulling your head back to look up at him with your arms still wrapped around each other.

Max shrugged, “as long as I get a good start I’m not all that worried.”

You hummed. Lando was on pole, something he was both excited but a bit anxious about considering Max was starting second.

“Coffee?” He asked, stepping back to grab the two cups he had been holding a minute ago. “I saw you coming so I made it to your liking.”

You couldn’t help but smile again. Despite his reputation of being aggressive on track, off of it he tended to be an absolute sweetheart. “Thank you, Max.”

“Anything for my favorite commentator.” He grinned at you and ruffled your hair, laughing at the annoyed scowl on your face as you tried to fix the mess he made. “Uh oh,” his tone suddenly turned a bit weary.

Your brows furrowed and followed his gaze, catching sight of a very unhappy Lando leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.

Max leaned down to whisper in your ear while still looking at the McLaren driver. “Did you write a bad piece on him or what? He looks like he wants to kill someone.”

You looked back over your shoulder, Lando’s eyes narrowed and jaw clenched at the proximity of Max to you. You sighed and took a sip of the coffee, like always Max made it perfectly. “I interviewed him and I guess I struck a nerve.” The lie slipped out easily, just like they had the past two years when people asked questions about you and Lando.

Max rested a hand on your elbow, meeting your eyes with a look of concern that wasn’t needed but it was appreciated nonetheless. “Want me to scare him off?”

You laughed, which was probably a mistake because you could physically feel the daggers your boyfriend was throwing at you. Shaking your head, you patted Max on the arm. “I’ll be fine, I’m sure you’ll do great today. I’ll see you later.”

You turned and faced Lando, raising a challenging brow at him and shooting a silent what the fuck is wrong with you? at him.

He clenched his jaw before turning, his steps purposeful as he walked towards what you assumed was his driver's room. You rolled your eyes, knowing you were about to walk into another argument. The pettier part of yourself was itching for one, but you knew a fight before a race was the last thing he needed.

With a bit of foresight, you probably would’ve chosen differently. But at the moment you were mad and thought you were doing the wisest thing for both of you.

So you turned left to go to the commentators box, ditching your boyfriend and turning off your phone. He needed a clear mind for the race and you needed a clear mind to give at least a shred of decent commentary.

Your stomach had dropped the moment Max had overtaken Lando’s lead and it didn’t pick back up when the checkered flag waved over the Red Bull car. It didn’t pick itself back up when your boyfriend followed after him about two seconds later, the papaya orange glowing almost angrily in the Spanish sun. It didn’t pick back up as you watched his post-race interview. It didn’t pick back up when you watched him step onto the podium. It didn’t even budge when he sprayed the champagne and smiled for photos.

He was furious. You could tell. No one else probably would besides Oscar. Lando’s teammate was remarkably good at reading people and was one of the only few people who knew you and Lando were dating. Your suspicions were only confirmed later on when a team photo was taken, Oscar leaning over to quietly ask if he was alright and Lando waved him off casually, but his smile was tight for the camera.

Your stomach fell further into the pits of hell as you neared his driver's room. You had waited a little while till the crowd died down, not wanting to blow your cover. Despite everything, when you two did go public you wanted it to be on terms you both agreed on.

You calmed your breath, preparing yourself to get yelled at when you inserted the key he had given you and popped the door open. The room was empty but you heard the shower cut off just as you shut the door softly behind you.

The room was neat, his clothes folded up and put away, ready to be on the road again. You paced for a moment, not quite sure what to do with yourself as you heard Lando shuffling about in the bathroom. You eyed his trophy warily, not sure if congratulating him was a good idea tonight.

The bathroom door opened and you spun, watching as Lando stopped abruptly at the sight of you. One hand clutching at the towel that was hanging loose at his hips and you couldn’t help it as you watched water droplets fall from his curly hair and drip down his tanned chest.

“About fucking time,” he muttered before moving again, walking right up to you and making you feel cornered all the sudden. “Where the fuck have you been? Off hugging Max, hm? Congratulating him on his win?”

You clenched your jaw, doing your best not to roll your eyes. “I have a job, you know. I couldn’t just prance up to you after the race.” You then gasped dramatically. “Oh wait, I could. Except somebody wants to keep me locked up in their bedroom.”

Lando completely ignored your last statement. “What the hell were you doing hugging him this morning?”

You balked at him. “He’s one of my best mates? And from what I can recall, you two are also friends. What difference does it make with me?” You knew what the answer was, you just wanted him to admit it. To say it out loud. Maybe you were bating him, maybe you were the problem. But at the moment you didn’t care.

“I told you not to fucking talk to him—“

“I can talk to whoever I want! Do you hear yourself?”

“But Max of all people? Really? You know how stressed I am about the championship and you go and fucking hug him and he makes you coffee? What, do you want to fuck him or something to piss me off—“

Lando’s words cut off as his head snapped to the side, rolling his jaw and his cheek slowly turned red.

Your eyes widened as your hand began to sting, only then realising you had just slapped him across the face. You even winced a little bit on his behalf because you were wearing rings. Your hands covered your mouth, a string of apologies leaving your lips.

“Oh my god, Lando I am so—“

You barely had time to blink before he took a step forward, hand grabbing your jaw harshly as he forced your eyes up to meet his. He didn’t look himself, his eyes glazed over and jaw clenched, silently seething as he looked at you but not quite. Like he was seeing a ghost, perhaps.

It was a little frightening and your eyes were probably wider than the moon. He shouldn’t have said any of those things, they were hurtful. But you also shouldn’t have hit him.

“Darling,” you said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Lando a blinked a few times, finally looking at you properly. As if the wave of anger finally passed over him and his hold on your jaw loosened, his hand falling to softly cup your neck. His eyes closed, his thick lashes brushing the top of his cheekbones before he let his head fall forward. His forehead resting against yours as he tried to steady his breathing.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. He then lifted his head, cradling your face in his hands and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering a string of more apologies as he went.

You two always ended up in this dance. In the moment you never minded, and no, you never regretted it. But fucking after a fight never solved anything in the long run.

Despite this trail of rational thinking, you didn’t protest as he backed you into the wall. His hands dancing up your shirt and a groan leaving him when he realized you weren’t wearing a bra.

There was a voice in the back of your mind telling you to put an end to this and talk, but when his mouth latched onto the space beneath your jaw, a moan fell from your lips instead. Your hands buried themselves in his damp hair, tugging lightly and he let out a delicious sound as he left wet and hot open mouth kisses along your throat.

His hands reached down, quickly finding the hem of your skirt and hiking it up around your waist. Not a moment later you gasped into his mouth at the feeling of his fingers tugging your underwear to the side, the cool air of the room hitting your sensitive pussy which was now exposed.

You barley registered the sound of Lando’s towel hitting the floor before you felt his hands grip the back of your thighs, picking you and turning towards the bed. He lowered you on it, the movement felt oddly graceful but you didn’t have time to think or even prepare yourself before Lando had your legs spread and he sank his cock into your cunt, bottoming out and it was painful and electric and amazing.

You didn’t have time to gasp out his name before he pulled out and snapped his hips back into you, a scream ripping up your throat at the brutal pace of it. You felt light headed, each of your nerves in a daze as pleasure wreaked havoc on your body. You were so out of it, in delirium that you hadn’t even registered Lando slapped you until you heard the echo of it bounce around the room.

Your cheek felt warm, the heat of it a slight tingle and it was strange and fucked up but you clenched around his cock harder, if even possible.

At the sensation, Lando’s head fell into the crook of your neck and he shuddered. “Fuck, you liked that didn’t you?” His breath was hot against your ear and you whimpered as his hand snaked up to your throat and applied pressure, choking you. “You like being used.”

He laughed and pulled back, the grin on his face sharp and devastatingly handsome.

You couldn’t get enough of him. He looked heavily above you, dominating you in ways you never thought you’d actually find attractive. But there you were, being choked out and slapped around and on the verge of cumming.

His other hand danced down your body, feather light and making you go mad. When his fingers landed on your clit and began rubbing tight circles into it, your eyes practically rolled into the back of your head and you choked on your own moans.

“I’m— I’m gonna—“ you struggled to get the words out, choking on them and hot tears began to leak from your eyes. Leaving ruddy trails of mascara in their wake and you were sure you looked like a mess.

Not that Lando cared, in fact, he seemed to love it. He was looking at you as if you had just offered him a slice of heaven. Like he worshiped you. Like he would call out your name even beyond the grave.

“Are you going to come for me, baby?”

You tried your best to nod but you could barely function with the way the crash of pleasure was building up in your body, it was almost torturous at this moment.

Lando’s pace got even more brutal if possible as he leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours as he thrusted his cock deeper and harder into your cunt. “You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he ground out as he kissed away your tears. “Come for me, darling.”

As if his words were some magical spell, you crashed over the edge almost violently. Your back arching, his name a scream that was ripped right from your lungs. Barely a second passed before he yanked your hips back down onto him and you felt his cock twitch as he came inside you.

He collapsed on top of you, both your bodies covered in sweat and panting. It was comforting nonetheless, being so close to him.

Lando’s arms wrapped around you as he rolled you both to the side, peppering kisses along your neck and shoulder. Being so gentle it made your head spin.

Dammit, you were about to cry for a whole other list of reasons, and despite the mind blowing make up sex part of you still wanted to stay mad at him.

The timing was awful, but this had to be fixed now. Or else it would turn into another fight eventually.

You turned and gently took hold of his wrists, meeting his eyes and you took a moment to collect yourself before you asked the question that always started problems.

“Why don’t you want anyone to know about us?” Before he could open his mouth, you kept talking. “I’m not going anywhere, Lando. Not now, not ever. And I can take whatever the media throws at me, I already do on a daily basis. That’s the life of a journalist. Not only that, I’m a grown woman. I can handle myself, and if I ever do need help I know I can count on you to be there for me.”

Lando let out a long breath, looking at you intently before he lifted a hand and brushed his thumb along your cheekbone. “What if I can’t handle it? I won’t be able to hold my tongue or my temper if anyone says something about you. About us being together.”

“You can, and you will.” You looked at him pointedly. “You hold your temper all the time, you’re better at it than you think when it comes to racing—“

“When it comes to racing, yes. But when it comes to you, that is a line I don’t want people crossing.”

You bit your lip, looking at him. You appreciated his concern, you really did. But you were tired of the secrets and lies. “So what? I’m just going to be a hidden part of you for the rest of your life? You’re just going to be a hidden part of mine? I don’t want to live like that, Lando.” You brushed the damp curls back from his eyes, taking in the stunning green of them and you fell in love all over again.

You fueled purpose into each of your words. “Let me love you loudly. I’m not saying we rub it in everyone’s faces, we can still have our own privacy but I don’t want to be this little secret you carry around anymore.”

He let out a heavy breath, hands holding you to him tightly. “Baby…”

“I can’t keep hiding. And I can’t keep lying to everyone. And I don’t want to ghost all my guy friends because you get jealous. Jealous for absolutely no reason. Max and I are friends. That’s it. That’s all it will ever be.” You then leaned forward and kissed him. His chapped lips rough against your as he met your urgency.

“You’re it for me, Lando. There was never going to be anyone else.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a calming breath before looking at you again, his eyes glowing and his lips pulled up slightly, revealing his dimples.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nodded, “Okay.” He pulled you in for another kiss and muttered those three words that drove you mad into your mouth.

landonorris and youruser

liked by carlossainz55, youruser, oscarpiastri and 820,027 others

landonorris happier than ever, happy three years baby

*tap to load more comments*

userone: my jaw fell to the center of the earth WHAT

usertwo: talk about a hard launch hello???

oscarpiastri: finally jesus

| userthree: YOU KNEW???

userfour: IM SORRY THREE YEARS??? ISNT THAT ONE OF THE F1 COMMENTATORS

| userfive: YOURE SO RIGHT IT IS HER

youruser: i love you

| landonorris: i love you

| usersix: im losing my mind

| carlossainz55: i’m losing my appetite

tag list: @theonottsbxtch @fortunapre @hearts4acemyluv

[ilikesillythings]

" To my darling baby; " Vox x reader TWs ;; Yandere themes, Vox in himself is a tw (If you squint enough Al stole Vox's bitch) Requested by ;; @everywherebut

"Two weeks.", Vox angrily muttered to Valentino, who, clearly wasn't listening as much as the TV-headed demon assumed he was.. or at all. But, in Vox's mind he had every right to be upset at the moment! Not only had you broken his electrical heart - he hadn't seen/heard from or of you in TWO WHOLE WEEKS! It felt like Vox's world had come crashing down!! And he only got even angrier when Val finally spoke up, in a bored, uninterested tone, "Uh.. Voxxy- isn't {Y/N} at that hotel? Y'know.. the one with the Radio demon? Thought I saw her outside it one time on one of your cameras."

This didn't sit right with Vox. His precious {Y/N}, at that shitty hotel? With radio fossil trash? This could not be happening. With quick movements, Vox ran out of the room, straight into the elevator, hands frantically pressing the 'down' button.

You, on the other hand, had been having a great time. Charlie was welcoming, when she had seen you at the doorstep, in your nightly attire, tears filling up your eyes, she had immediately taken pity upon you, ushering you inside. After two long years with Vox, you had grown to hate him. He was arrogant, loud, rude, and never spared you a glance anymore.

Running away was hard enough, as you knew very well he could spy on people through the TV screens he had displayed, the electronics from his brand, and cameras. But the Hazbin hotel was the one place you felt to be safest. Yeah, the Radio demon was there, one of the most dangerous overlords, though his reputation smudged into old tales after his absence, and yes, the princess of Hell, Charlie, ran it, but she seemed like nothing more than a harmless puppy. Alastor, on the other hand, was in fact scary as fuck,

But, he never made an attempt to frighten you, to harm you. Nor did he ever demand information on his 'rival', despite having heard about your past affiliations with the demon. He was a sort of gentleman, to most at least.

Maybe if you were someone else, you'd be eternally paranoid, for good reason, of course. You had broken up with a powerful overlord, who had many souls, and a lot of power at his fingertips. If he wanted to; he could find you. Yet, he hadn't. You were safe at this dingy hotel. Somehow you had managed to be safe.

Or, that's what you had thought up until now. To be completely honest, you had forgotten all about your ex. Until he showed up at the hotel's door.

You could hear him shouting from outside, unluckily for you, it was only you and Nifty at the hotel. "{Y/N}! I KNOW YOU'RE IN THERE! BABY- PLEASE, I'M SORRY!" he screamed, voice sounding strained, which made sense when you realized he had been shouting for about two hours now. Not wanting to talk to him directly, you made your way upstairs, to the balcony, and leaned over the edge, annoyance evident on your face.

His electrical face lit up, digital eyes widening with awe. Perhaps for you, this was an irritating encounter, as you had been hoping to simply relax all day, still dressed in last nights clothing from when you had gone to bed. For Vox?

It was like he was Romeo, and you his Juliet. An angel sent from above to grace this poor, poor sinner. "Oh- baby! There you are!" he exclaimed, relief evident in his strained voice, "C'mon, get down from there, and we can-"

He paused as you raised your hand, "I'm not going home with you, Vox." you sternly stated to the annoyance below you, who in tern, stared at you in shock. Before guffawing, shaking his rectangular head, "You've always been so good at jokes!" he praised earnestly, clapping his hands, "But, now it's time to go home!"

For a moment, you scowled at him, before turning on your heels and walking back inside, ignoring the loud protests from Vox, begging you come out, begging you to come back to him.

[tragedyofdevotion]

disregard

Yandere Neuvillette x reader

Mentions of torture and blackmailing

Implied nsfw, not explicit

I hate you.

I wish you died.

These are the words you swallow up everyday as you wake up and see him looking gently at you.

You ignored him and his damned lovesick gaze in favor of the more important task to do: to get out of bed.

Despite the impression he gave as a respectable gentleman, he was never restrained during his nightly routine with you, always leaving you bruised and tired and legs too weak to stand properly. After all, a dragon will remain a beast, an animal, no matter what kind of titles as he accumulated in living among humans, pretending among humans.

The Iudex, a beloved Chief Justice of the Fountaine, a symbol of Fairness.

Under his watch, no instances that might go against the ideal of the country is allowed.

But even before you personally knew him in this way, you could not understand the trust people had on him.

If he truly valued justice, will he allow the trials to be used as entertainment for the public as if it was some kind of theatrics?

Would your best friend's father be wrong accused and meet untimely death?

Would the true culprits behind your father's death be running amock while your best friend is trying the most that she could to prove her father's innocence?

No, they wouldn't.... if Neuvillette truly valued justice and tried to find the truth behind the incident like the blonde traveler who finally uncovered the real culprits of the incident.

You hated Neuvillette for pretending something he most certainly wasn't, a human with humanly emotions.

So, you were never a fan of his.

However, back then, you weren't fully aware of how much of injustice he was willing to commit to secure his lover treasure.

As you pull back the bed sheets and tried to get up, he offered to help you, like a lover facade he is dead set on continuing.

But you ignored him, and got up on your own wobbling and shaky.

Your body was littered by his artworks of kiss marks, bite marks and hand prints. But he admire them on you as if you are the goddess of beauty herself.

"Good morning, my love."

He said his voice sweet and sugary unlike the tone he made when declaring your lover guilty for a murder you were sure he never committed.

In exchange for securing your boyfriend a safe and peaceful life in meropide fortress, you had to jump into the jaws of the awaiting beast. (So, the rumors that the Index was good friends with the Duke were true. Or at least, they were close enough to be partners in crime in making your life miserable.)

You again ignored his voice and put on your dress to cover up your body from his disgusting gaze and walked into the bathroom.

You wonder if your best friend is still trying to find you. The poor girl has just lose her two most trusted subordinates. You want nothing more than to run to her and hug her tight to say that you are okay, you are fine, you are not going to leave her.

You felt arms around your waist, hugging you from behind. The person, predictably, was none other than your husband.

You pushed away his hand and continued washing your face.

In the mirror, you could see Neuvillette looking at your reflection with puppy eyes begging for an ounce of affection.

Oh, just how much you want to poke out those eyes with a knife.

But you refrained from actually doing it because

1. He is the Hydro Sovereign whose strength rival that of Archons so your attack would probably be ineffective.

2. If you so much as point anything sharp in his general direction, your boyfriend has to face the tortures that would make grown adults to faint just by hearing it.

(You once tried to attack Neuvillette using the power of your Anemo Vision but not only did it not work, the Duke made you watch your boyfriend being tortured in front of you.)

After freshing yourself up, you ate the breakfast as silently as the morning before.

If there was one good thing about Neuvillette, he has to go out for the whole day.

So, if only you endured the most agitating breakfast of him staring at you as you eat, you will have the monster out of the house.

"I will be going out. I will try to be home as soon as I can."

You opted out his voice and laid back down on your bed and pull up covers to get some sleep to compensate for the loss of it last night.

You heard him going out of the room to go to the court for whatever trials awaiting him.

It rains in Fountaine today, too.

[galarfiend]

but there wasn’t any water in the wishing well

[cherryheairt]

Dragon Dreamer pt. VI

tags: @beebeechaos @r-3dlips @emery-aka-emmy @watermel0nsugarhigh @hueanhdang @delaynew @purple-1995 @littleblackcatinwonderland @fall-winter-heart97 @mandeepandee1997

With the fourth day come and gone with no ground behind them, the little party wasted no time in packing up their belongings and trudging on once again.

Daenys was awoken from a dreamless sleep by a suffocating feeling. She was jerked awake by her own breathlessness, opening her eyes to be met with the brown fur of Dusk, who had grown impaitient with her sleeping in and made her chest his one personal bed. "Off, boy." She grunted, wheezing at the weight. She swore he could rival Morningstar in weight alone.

Cregan, at the opening of the tent and pack over his shoulder, snickered at the sight. He clicked his tongue twice, shooing the direwolf away. He leaned over Daenys, who was rubbing her eyes. Her hair lay around her in long, unruly waves, surely something that her handmaiden back in Dragonstone would have scolded her for. She usually slept in a loose braid but had forgotten her nightly routine in favor of passing out cold.

"Morning, Princess." Cregan greeted softly, watching her groggily wake herself up. He had been ready and packed long-ago, wanting to let Daenys sleep in and not worry about packing her belongings, most of which were tied to Mylo's saddle.

"Good morning," she mumbled back, stretching out under the furs. The scent of him lingered pleasently. She sat up slowly, the cold of the North making her body ache in the mornings more than it ever did in the South.

Daenys' hair fell around her shoulders and back, nearly to her waist. She cursed the fact that she'd have to spend another morning doing the entire thing all by herself, knowing her arms would be aching before she could even mount her horse. Just when she was contemplating chopping it all off, Cregan offered–"Would you like my help with...all that?" The offer was polite, not wanting to push any boundaries that might make the Princess shy away.

A man doing hair? That was almost laughable. If Daemon made the same offer to Rhaenyra, the whole family would be squaking with amused chuckles, knowing he had no clue how to do something as gentle as that. Perhaps that was why he chopped off his own long locks—or so Daenys heard.

"My hair?" Daenys questioned, looking up to him. He nodded, and she took a moment to think. How did he know how to braid? Briefly, she wondered if he had ever courted someone, perhaps in his youth before he was busy in his lordship.

"My sister, she insisted that I learn by practicing on her. Said it would help with my 'husbandly' responsibilities, whatever that means." They both laughed, while she guiltily felt a sense of relief. She rummaged through her bag briefly, searching for her wooden brush.

"Hm, I would have thought you might have a secret Lady Wife hidden away in Winterfell." Daenys mused, turning her back to him and sitting up straight. He sat behind her, taking the brush she had handed him in a big hand. Their hands touched for a moment, his bare hand making contact with hers for her first time. It was warm, though calloused from years of swordtraining, opposite of her own perfectly manicured ones. Had he taken off his gloves for this? It would be easier, she thought.

"Who's to say I don't? And perhaps a few heirs are already running about, playing as squires." When she glanced behind her, brow raised, he only chuckled and guided her head to turn back.

"I jest, of course. If I had a wife, she would be no secret." He said, grabbing small portions of her hair at a time, brushing from ends to scalp. The white mess quickly became calm waves once more with his handywork. Cregan paused a moment, "what braids would you like?"

Giggling, "how many can you do, Lord Stark?"

"You underestimate me. I have had all sorts of requests from Sara. The least I can do is try."

Daenys pondered what might be a quick one for him to do, deciding on her front pieces being pulled back into a crown, braided in a curving line together across the back of her skull. The rest hung down, providing a small shield against the wind on her neck. Cregan's hands worked smoothly, dexterous, and surprisingly gentle. He apologized for every tug, and was done quickly.

🗡

A young Daenys sat in front of Laenor Velayron, both of them on the floor in front of the lit hearth in Rhaenyra's chambers. Rhaenyra had left a few hours ago, leading young Jacaerys to go play with Aegon while she went to spend time with baby Luke in the nursery.

Laenor had some downtime, recently returning from a voyage to Dorne. Even though he rode the loyal Seasmoke, Laenor was a seaman at heart. He never went too long between being on his ship, which was gifted to him by Lord Corlys of Driftmark. After Daenys' fifth nameday, he lovingly allowed her to name the ship Eveningstar to match her dragon's name.

"How does the mighty Princess wish to wear her warrior's braids this morning?" He asked her in a dramatically knightly voice. "I can do anything you command."

"Dragon!" Daenys exclaimed excitedly, wishing for her hair to be done in the shape of her dragon, who was growing like a weed and already not allowed to be in the Red Keep due to terrorizing Alicent Hightower's children.

Laenor paused, brows high on his forehead. "Perhaps...the Princess overestimates this lowly knight's skill. Maybe a simpler design would appease her?"

Straightening up, Daenys glanced back up at him and scrunched her nose playfully. "I thought you said you could do anything."

Her father chuckled nervously, the scrutiny of the young girl reminding him much of Rhaenyra's sharp gaze. Luckily, Daenys' wrath was much more forgiving than her mother's. "I can do anything, within human limits." He mimicked her whining tone.

Daenys sighed loudly, thinking about what she wanted again. "What about the gems? Can you put them into the braid, at least?"

Laenor grunted as he stood up, joints in one place for too long. He rummaged through Rhaenyra's vanity, knowing she wouldn't mind if it was for Daenys. He plucked out some bright blue ones, with small holes carved in the middle for hair to poke through. "Blue?"

Daenys nodded, hair ruffling out of place from the jerking movements. Blue reminded her of the skies, the view she was gifted when she rode through the clouds on Syrax or Seasmoke with her parents. It was also quite like the sea, which she saw often at the docks with Laenor. It was perfect for today.

As Laenor returned to his position, he started his work. Different sized braids adorned the back of her hair, with the front pieces in bubbled loose strands separated in inches by the stones. The rest hung down in its usual waves, more stones hanging down from them. They twinkled when Daenys moved her head side to side.

"All done, my girl." Laenor told her, patting her shoulders.

"Can we go on a boat ride?" She pleaded with her father. She had been wanting to be out on the sea all morning, wishing to spend time with her father in one of their favorite places. Even if it meant dealing with the fishy scent of their catches, she loved the sailor's life and the boisterous people who lived it daily.

"I don't think so, Daenys. Your mother gave me an earful about letting you near the crew, last time." He told her, petting her hair back comfortingly when she frowned.

"Can we swim, then? At the beach?" She changed the question, knowing her mother's word was absolute. 'The Beach' was a little island between Dragonstone and King's Landing, which the dragonriders oft visited because of its seclusion from court and fisherman.

Laenor thought for a moment. Rhaenyra wouldn't be upset about it, surely. "What about your hair? We spent so much time on it."

She shook her head, the stones sparking together in turn. "It will be fine, I won't dive today."

Likely story, Laenor thought, but bit his tongue. "Very well, we'll take Seasmoke to the beach." He gave in, as always. No one could resist the little girl's charms, especially her father.

Daenys thought for a moment to bring along Jace but decided against it. He couldn't yet swim, and would only feel left out on the shore. Ever the jealous boy, Aegon would have to be his company for today.

Laenor took Daenys to the dragonpit, packing a small picnic for two and their swimclothes. The two spent the majority of the sunlight frolicking in the sand and salty water, enjoying small sandwhiches that the maids prepared beforehand.

Upon the Princess and Ser's return, Rhaenyra was gifted with many pretty seashells in a sincere apology for Daenys losing many of the blue gems. A small white sand dollar was placed next to Luke's crib quietly, Daenys knowing better than to place objects on his soft bedding. Jacaerys was given a sturdy red shell, but all-too-quickly returned it to Daenys' sandy hands as a crab popped its little black eyes out of it.

"Father!" Daenys called after Laenor, who was on his way out of the keep and to the docks. "There's a crab in this one. Can we return it to the beach?" She begged, jumping up and down and tugged at his sleeve.

Sighing, Laenor knew it would be a while til he made it to the docks. He couldn't resist that face, after all

🗡

Daenys felt the soft braid with her fingertips, satisfied at the evenness. She looked behind her, a grateful smile meeting his eyes. "Thank you, Cregan. I appreciate it."

He hummed, gathering her bag for her after putting her brush back into it. Cregan parted the tent flaps again, allowing the sunlight to peak through once again. Dusk was sitting outside of the tent, lying on her discarded dress. Whether he or Cregan moved it there was a mystery. They left the tent, Cregan folding it up while Daenys went to Morningstar.

The beast greeted her with a small chuff, though she did not lift her head. "What's the matter, pretty girl?" Daenys asked her lifted a hand to pet her cheek. The dragoness turned her head away, setting it on the clear ground below it. All the snow had long melted away around her in a ring, the dragon's body heat not giving it a chance to return. "Morningstar?"

A huff.

Daenys rolled her eyes at the dragon's brattiness. "I'm sorry, please forgive me. I promise It won't happen again, Cregan has looked after me." She spoke the apology in her mother tongue, sincerely. She never got a chance to last night, falling asleep right after the hunt.

The she-dragon lifted her head, eyeing Cregan as he walked up to them. "I heard my name?" He asked, an amused smirk on his lips.

Morningstar and Daenys turned to him together, four violet eyes squinted at him as if to say, 'stay out of it.' The dragon grumbled, shifting the stand on her wings. Cregan looked to Daenys, wondering why she wasn't happy to see her rider, as she usually was. Daenys opened her mouth to answer, only to be knocked down into the snow by a shove of Morningstar's snout. Confused, Daenys looked up to her, mouth agape. The dragon playfully nudged Cregan, asking for his attention.

Traitors.

Cregan laughed loudly at the display, giving in to the dragon's whims. Not like he had any choice, he feared what an angry dragoness might do to him if he rejected her so rudely.

Dusk sat himself next to Daenys, who had since sat up. The direwolf growled at the affection display, jealous of Cregan giving his attention to another creature, more specifically the dragon who had been hovering their whole trip. She ruffled his thick fur, enjoying the softness compared to Morningstar's smooth scales. Morningstar seemed to eye the two on the floor, grumbling again into Cregan's fur-coated chest.

Cregan helped Daenys up from the snow, letting her brush herself off before they untied the horses. Mylo greeted her with a lick to her palm, happy to see her again. They both sat upon their horses, eyeing the spot where Seamus' tent had been.

"Where's Seamus?" Daenys asked him, in a hushed tone as she leaned toward the man.

He sat up straight, not caring if Seamus overheard his words. "He went ahead when I was waking you. Claimed that he wanted to 'scout' ahead. As if Dusk can not do that." Cregan seemed irritated at the mere mention of the elder, so Daenys chose to nod and drop the topic.

The two horses walked side by side, while Daenys and Cregan idly chattered. "Your sister, Sara, where is she now? I never got to see her at Winterfell."

"She is residing at Mormont Keep now. A good friend of mine, the third son of Lord Grendys Mormont, proposed marriage a year ago. I'm expecting good news from Sara soon." Cregan smiled at the mention of his only living sibling. It had been nearly a year since she'd found her love match and left Winterfell for good.

"Eager for a niece or nephew already?" Daenys asked, corners of her mouth lifting. One day, she hoped for many nieces and nephews to surround herself with if she truly did end up a spinster. If so, she was comforted with the fact that she had only brothers, thus would have all their wives be moved to Dragonstone or the Red Keep to allow everyone to be close together.

"Indeed. It's been a while since Winterfell's keep has been graced with younglings."

Daenys almost snorted at the strange name for children but kept it to herself in hopes of not offending him. Northerners and their strange vocabulary. "I quite agree, it is rather quiet in the Great Keep."

"That is partially my fault, I must admit. My council and bannermen have been urging me to take a wife since I was but three and ten. For heirs, they say. I see it as them anxiously anticipating my early demise." He snorted.

"Perhaps a noble's real duty is to tolerate their council's nagging. I envy your patience, Lord Stark."

He turned his head toward her, a questioning look in his eye. "My patience? I have not seen you pushed to anger once in our time together, Princess."

"Whatever is there to be angry for?" She fired back. She'd never been a snappy person, except perhaps when her brothers stole her desert one too many times, but never was she considered an impaitient person.

Cregan stumbled slightly, trying to find the right words, "nevermind." he mumbled, cheeks pink.

Daenys bit her cheek, holding another laugh. Seeing the young Lord flustered amused her greatly. "Cregan," she began.

Perking up, he tilted his head towards her, "yes, Princess?"

"Do you think we ought to have spotted Seamus by now?"

He hummed, looking forward with careful eyes. "Mayhaps, but I think he is avoiding us purposefully to calm himself. He was quite humiliated last night."

Daenys snickered, remembering the taught look on the older man's face, red all the way to his neck. "Serves him right. Slaughtering an animal is one thing, but dishonoring it entirely is another. It is not right. Any respectable man would have left its head with its body so its soul could rest easy."

Cregan was silent for a few beats after her words. "I agree, the animals killed in defense have as much right to respect as the ones we hunt for food. Is that a Targaryen or a Velayron belief?"

Daenys shifted in the saddle, twitching at the mention of her blood. "Velayrons believe that we shall return to the sea, where we come from. Targaryens burn their dead, in the way of our ancestors."

"Which would you have to honor you after your death?" The question surprised her, seeing Cregan's sincere gaze upon her like a calmness in a storm.

"It's hard to say. My father burned when he died, and we could only lay his ashen bones in the casket that we sent into the sea. He never got a proper Velayron death as he would've wanted." She told him. "Perhaps it would be my fate to die like a Targaryen, on my dragon and being burned by my opponent. I must admit I have always been partial to the sea, though. Or, if the Gods will it, Morningstar and I would fall together. If such a thing does happen, perhaps buried in the crypts alongside her." She rambled on. Faces flashed in her mind. Drunken Aegon, spiteful Aemond, sweet Helena, even young Daeron. All dragonriders on the opposing ride, all her potential killers.

"Do not say such things, Princess. You will live to be an old dame, I am sure." The Northerner said, tapping his foot out of his stirrups to her own booted one.

"Apologies, my Lord. It is an awfully morbid topic for a Lady." She rescinded.

An awkward silence washed over the two, neither knowing if they offended the other nor what to say next. Curse her stupid big mouth. What kind of Princess talks to a man about her own death? Not one that will gain any prospects, surely. Daenys kissed her teeth, biting back a sigh. She wished to withdraw into a tent, or better yet, the skies atop of Morningstar.

It was hours before the two stopped for a break, watering and feeding the horses. Dusk rounded back to them, content with taking a break after his watch. He laid his large head on Daenys' lap, and she struggled not to tense at the reminder.

Cregan stole many discreet glances at her as she stretched out under a large tree. Her silence had worried him greatly, and the Lord feared that she would tuck herself back into her deep shell. Maybe literally, with all those coats over her shoulders. The roots were robust, sticking out of the ground and study enough to sit herself on.

He approached her after allowing her some minutes of respite. Offering his hand, Cregan lifted her to her feet, though he did not let go of her hand. Daenys stilled, wondering what he wanted.

"Do you have the dagger on you?" He asked.

Daenys nodded, "are we going hunting?"

He shook his head, backing away a step from her. "We have the spare rabbits still. Grab it." Suddenly, his voice seemed to change from his gentle one to a more firm one. Like the one he used for his men rather than for Daenys.

Bemused, she grabbed the dagger from under her skirts—she had decided that the belt of her garters would make a fine shealth. Cregan's gaze flittered to her exposed legs for only a moment before he forced it back to her face. Holding it out for him to take, she was surprised when he closed it back around her fist.

"It is still yours. I want you to attack me."

"Attack you?!" Daenys exclaimed, clutching the dagger toward her chest. "I will not do such a thing."

Cregan chuckled shortly, shifting on his feet. "I am asking you to, Princess. You will not hurt me, I assure you."

"I am well confident in your skills, my Lord. But, anything could happen, even accidentally. A Lady does not wield weapons against her own bannermen–or at all." Daenys stammered out.

Even Rhaenyra, who was made heir for the throne at seven and ten, was not made to learn the ways of weaponry. She had her loyal guards to protect her at all times, and that's not to mention Daemon, who is one of the best swordsmen Westeros had to offer.

He sighed at her stubbornness. "Humor me, just this once. I want to show you how to wield it without losing your grip, at least. As long as your weapon stays in your hand, you are still in the fight."

"I have my dragon." She insisted, sniffing.

"And where was she when you were wandering the woods, Princess?"

Daenys clenched her teeth, knowing she couldn't argue with his bite. Morningstar couldn't always be there to help her, something that she learned the hard way. In the woods, indoors, underground: all places that her dragon could not defend her in unless she wished to burn with the enemy.

"Come on, my Lady. This is what is best for you. I wager you will need to use such skills against an opponent some day soon, without the shield of Morningstar." He seemed tense, similar to his state when first coming across Seamus Knott.

"Cregan..." She pleaded, looking up at him with her dagger limply hung at her hip.

"Daenys." He was unmoved, though his eyes flashed with a unique softness briefly. Daenys' name coming from his lips made her belly fill with butterflies, a warmth spreading throughout her at his low tone.

She sighed, giving in to him. How could she not, when he looked at her like that? Every bit the ruggedly gentle Northern man she had grown to know well.

She shifted her stance, pulling the hand holding the dagger in front of her face, eyeing him over it. He had not moved, only observing her carefully, noting every breath she took.

Daenys stepped forward, swiping the knife towards his chestpiece, the safest option, only to stumble on her feet when Cregan grabbed her wrist and tugged her into his chest. "You were staring at my chest the whole time. Don't make it so obvious where you want to strike."

He kept her tight in his grip, the other hand on her back firmly. "I shouldn't be able to pull you off your feet so easily. If I can simply hold you like this so easily, imagine what a lesser man could do without breaking a sweat."

Daenys flushed at the implication, face warm with embarrassment. He paid no mind to it, releasing his grip and allowing her to stand straight again. Cregan shifted behind her, breath hot against her ear. "Stand lower, center yourself so you can not be felled so easily." He placed his hands on her shoulders, pushing down gently until her knees bent slightly. He pushed her with one hand, appeased when she only bent instead of falling into the snow. Cregan traced a hand down the expanse of her arm, reaching her hand and taking it in his own. He adjusted her grip on it, folding his larger hand around hers, "hold it like this if you wish to swipe instead of stab, like you intended."

When she obeyed, he nodded satisfactorily. He backed away again, standing in front of her. "Again." His voice was hard, rougher than he perhaps knew.

Daenys gritted her teeth, frustrated at his attitude. Was he angry with her for being so green with a weapon? Did most Northern ladies know all this stuff by the time they could walk? She hated the way he looked down at her, as if she was one of his soldiers instead of just Daenys.

Hours passed, with Daenys panting and exhausted from her exertions and Cregan perfectly unharmed in front of her. Daenys improved slightly after every attempt, much to Cregan's approval. They had lost track of time, well into the afternoon before they had eaten and set off riding again. They rode in a deafening silence, the only sounds being the horses' clompering steps. She wished to speak with him to understand why he suddenly was so stressed for her safety. He had promised to stay by her side. Why would she need to protect herself unless he was planning on leaving her?

He hadn't humored any of her longing glances, gaze as straight as his regal posture. In the sunset's glowing light, he looked quite like a Northern Prince sat upon his steed. She wondered if she looked the part of a Princess on her own, or ever. If she didn't have the signature Targaryen white hair or purple eyes, would anyone guess what she was? Jacaerys was always recognized, even without the sigil on his tunics. He always fit his role as heir perfectly. If she had shared his plain features, Daenys guessed that she would be mistaken for a random noblelady of a forgotten house. Her face familiar but none quite able to recall her name.

The two settled in a small clearing, the biggest they had been able to find for hours. Morningstar hovered for a bit before settled down in their find. She had been gone for the entirety of their little training session, most likely to hunt her own meal in the pause. The dragon curled up near the tent, already melting the surrounded area. Maybe the tent would be warmer tonight thanks to her.

Cregan and Daenys sat in front of the fire, roasting the skinned rabbit. Daenys glanced at him several times over the flames, only to be pointedly ignored. She sighed, standing to her feet. "I'll be back." She told him, getting a small hum in return. He assumed she was using the bathroom, so he made no move to stop her. Daenys wandered slightly in the wood, stretching her legs and enjoying her moment of peace. Whilst she was plotting her next words to Cregan concerning his silent attitude, she was stopped by Seamus, standing imposingly in her path.

"You've been gone quite a while." Daenys greeted with a short nod, shifting uncomfortably. He only stared back. "Are you going to set your tent up with ours?"

More silence. He didn't seem to have his pack on his back anymore, only his sword on his belt and a dagger's shealth on the other side to mirror it. She tensed, mouth drying up. Whatever his intentions might have been, none were good.

"Princess Daenys." He started, voice dark with spite. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for an opportunity like this. For twenty long and painful years, I served the Watch. Patient, biding my time until I can be restored to my rightful place as Lord Knott."

Daenys stepped back, reaching slowly to bunch up her skirt, trying to reach her knife without drawing much attention to it.

He mirrored her step. "I won't let that little brat take his place as pretender any longer. Because I have you, now." He grinned, baring his teeth down at her. His black beard was a stark contrast to his shining teeth, saliva parting at his lips. He reminded her of a rabid dog, slobbering and desperate to bite down on anything to relieve its own pain. He slowly unsheathed his dagger, pointing it at her from his spot yards away. "If I take you to the King, I will be bestowed with riches and titles above anyone. He will have to make me Hand in exchange for giving up the usurper's daughter!"

Seamus laughed at his own proclamation. It was a good plan, she admitted. Aegon would be generous enough to give him back his seat at House Knott. Daenys shook her head, taking more slow steps back. When she was about to attempt to reason with him, he lunged. Seamus wasted no time pinning her to the floor, covering her mouth with a dirty hand. "Oh no, Princess. Can't have that little brat ruining this for me. Just like his damned father."

She thrashed, kicking and clawing at his face. Even with the small lines of blood dripping from his face, he never faultered. He placed the dagger at her throat, pulling her roughly to her feet.

He pushed her in front of him all the way to the campsite, where Cregan was already looking to the treeline to spot her return. He stood immediately when Daenys came back, steel placed deadly close to her neck. He drew Ice to his hand, pointing it at the older man.

"Release the Princess, Knott." He growled.

The man chortled behind Daenys, hot breath on her neck, making gooseflesh rise to her arms uncomfortably. "Put that down, boy. You know you cannot harm me without hurting the little lass."

Cregan grit his teeth harshly, jaw ticking. He glanced to Daenys, who guiltily blinked up at him. Sorry, she seemed to say. For wandering off stupidly once again.

Dusk was gone, hunting his own dinner for the night. How convenient for the kinslayer.

Seamus slowly walked to the dragon, who had long since awoken when she spotted Daenys at the mercy of her aggressor. The dragon roared when he approached, hot breath washing over them both and the wind strong enough to make him stumble back slightly. "Command your beast to obey, or she will not have a rider to listen to anymore. Remember, Princess, I need you alive, not unharmed." He sneered.

"I will find you, Daenys." Cregan spoke firmly, standing at the base of Morningstar's wing.

Daenys, with the steel still cold at her neck, commanded Morningstar shakily. "Lykiri, Morningstar. Rual īlva naejot kipagon." She nodded stiffly when the white dragon whined, distressed at what she was being forced to do.

Reluctantly, the dragon lowered its wing to allow both onto her saddle, Daenys still sitting in front of him. He pressed himself tight against her back, one hand squeezing her waist in an almost choking manner. She felt nauseous, glancing to Cregan for reassurance. For the first time, the man looked helpless. Ice was discarded onto the snow, and his throat bobbed with tension.

"Fly, girl!" The man snarled, making Daenys flinch at the loudness. Cursing, she commanded Morningstar to lift off. "You will take us to King's Landing. Anywhere off course, and you will lose your little fingers one by one."

Daenys nodded, gaze straight at the dark sky, the blackness of the night providing her a lonely comfort. She knew Cregan was watching her disappear into the cloud's cover, not being able to do a thing.

Morningstar furiously roared and growled and cried out into the skies, helpless once again to help her rider.

Daenys patted her scales softly in a comforting motion, whispering to the dragon, "īlon jāhor ērinagon."

🗡

Rual īlva naejot kipagon - allow us to ride

Lykiri- Calm

īlon jāhor ērinagon - we will/shall win

Cregan's guilt for not being there for Daenys is eating at him 🙂‍↔️ and coming off all wrong. Whatever shall the young lovebirds do?

what is it that one post said a few weeks back, "paws that he calls hands"? I always think of that when writing about his hands its suck in my head

I should probably establish ages. With Laenor's flashback, its kinda wonky. Joff and Rhae + Daemon's youngest kids' age don't matter because they will have no importance to the story sorry not sorry

Cregan - 21

Daenys- 20

Jace - 18

Luke - 14

Joffrey - 5-7

Aegon and Viserys - Under 5

[cinnaleaf]

𝕋𝕙𝕠𝕤𝕖 𝕋𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕤

summary: after the worst day ever, you find solace in Jude for some much needed banter. you fall asleep mid-convo and he nearly lets something slip...

genre: fluff, sprinkle of angst, slice of life wc: ~889

a/n: short 'n sweet. another inspired by my spotify playlist 🥰 this one had me kicking my feet up it’s so cute. enjoy! 💌

Today had completely drained you. It was one of those days where nothing seemed to be going right, you were positive the universe had it out for you. Somehow over the course of the day you had managed to spill your drink all over your outfit, lost a large note somewhere on the pavement, and missed the bus, causing you to have to sprint to the nearest train. To make matters even worse, you forgot your umbrella on a day with torrential downpour and dropped your phone, slightly cracking the screen on the edge. Yup, you should’ve just bought the screen protector, huh? Now you had an additional expense you didn’t plan on. Once you arrived home, you dropped your things on the floor, quickly showering and changing into something more comfortable before collapsing on your bed. Every muscle was aching from tension and exhaustion, all you wanted to do was rot in bed and watch messy reality TV. Just as you leaned back against the pillow, your phone dinged with a message from Jude:

Jude: just got in, ring you in 5?

You felt a wave of relief wash over your body as you replied to his message. Lately, nightly conversations with Jude had become a regular occurrence, a way to forget about life’s trials and tribulations. You and Jude were just friends, but the lines had blurred a bit recently. You were spending more time together despite his busy schedule, which led to a few adoring gazes, a couple of lingering touches, lots of laughs, and maybe a *little* jealousy when he spoke to other girls. He had developed a sixth sense when it came to knowing exactly when you needed him the most, even when far away—today was no exception. You grabbed your water tumbler from the bedside table and took a long sip before settling deep into your army of pillows as you waited for his call. 

A few minutes later your screen lit up with Jude’s name, his familiar smile filling the now-cracked screen. His shirt was off and he looked relaxed, as if he had just showered, but he could tell something was off with you. “You alright?” he asked in a soothing voice. Before you could answer he followed up with, “Rough day?” concern was littered in his eyes. 

“Yeahhh, you have no idea.” you scoffed lightly. To say your day was rough felt like an understatement after the cluster of mishaps you had, but a soft smile slowly appeared on your face anyway. “Seeing you makes it a bit better though. Loving the no shirt look.”

He grinned as his eyes crinkled in the corner. You always joked about how his smile could cure any ailment in the world if it was bottled up and mass distributed across the globe—it was that beautiful. A smile that rivaled the sun from afar. “Well..happy to help. Wanna talk about it?”

You hesitated for a moment, not wanting to ruin his day either, although you knew anything you said, he would find a way to turn it into something positive. It was almost annoying, but adorable at the same time. You shook your head, “Not right now..just need a distraction. Tell me something funny, please.”

You watched Jude on the cracked screen as he launched into a story about something that happened earlier in the day. “One of the guys slipped during our warm ups, took half the team down with him like a domino effect. Whole team couldn’t stop laughing for 5 minutes, and then…” He had a way of making the most regular, mundane things seem so funny and interesting by being so animated in his storytelling. You couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous stories as he went on, his voice easing the tension you didn’t realize you had been holding on to. He always knew exactly how to make your day brighter, make you smile, lift your spirits right when you needed it the most. Just being around him—even if it was over a broken screen, made everything feel okay if even for a moment. 

As the conversation went on, you felt your eyelids getting heavier as you gradually sank deeper into the pillows. Jude’s voice felt like a comfy, luxurious weighted blanket, wrapping you in soothing warmth and pleasant coziness. You could feel yourself slowly start to drift off into a slumber. His laugh was like music, a gentle soundtrack that faded into the background as sleep began to take over.

While in a drowsy haze, you didn’t quite register a soft whisper from him, “Goodnight y/n, I love y—“ He quickly stopped himself and paused for a minute, sucking in his breath before he spoke again. “Sweet dreams” he said as his finger hovered over the ‘end call’ button. Jude was praying to every deity in existence, hoping you didn’t hear his slip up. 

But you were already fast asleep, your breathing steady and even. Jude let out a silent sigh of relief—grateful you weren’t awake to hear his unintentional confession. It's not that he didn't mean what he said, he did love you, but the thought of it scared him to death. “Goodnight y/n,” he whispered again before ending the call. His heart still racing from those three little words he hadn’t meant to say just yet.

honestly thinking about doing one of these for trent bc the vibe is just too cuteee. stay tuned.

if you made it this far, thank you for reading! feel free to pop into my ask box for requests, fangirling, advice, music recs, or just a chat—i'm a certified rambler 🫖✨

*elle

[moonlightspencie]

here’s a non-request drabble. i’ve been thinking about this a lot, so here’s some minor smut & sirius black being embarrassed bc it’s cute

pairing: remus lupin x reader, mentioned sirius black x reader

warnings: minor smut (dirty dreams), teasing sirius until he’s blushing and floundering. 18+ only please!

——————————

Sirius shifted the both of you into a new position, one that had you squeezing your eyes shut before he grabbed your jaw, convincing you to keep your eyes on him.

“Attagirl,” he groaned, holding your knees to your chest. He smiled down at you in a state of bliss. “Take it so well, angel.”

“S’good, Siri,” you whimpered.

He took a moment just to watch you under him, your brows drawn together in pleasure. He admired your pretty lips, open and pouring out the cutest little sounds as he pounded into you. He couldn’t help himself. He leaned down, connecting your lips in a heated kiss that was at least 80% tongue. He could still taste your fruity lipgloss, and nibbled at your bottom lip for good measure, to which you replied with a little giggle. He smiled to himself at the sound.

He moved back to get a better angle inside of you, soon making noises that rivaled your own. He grew closer and closer to his climax, his breathing heavy. Just a few more—

“Sirius!”

Sirius woke in a cold sweat to your soft hand on his arm. He startled, moving slightly, his back hitting the soft cushions of the couch.

“You okay? It sounded like you were having a nightmare.”

He swallowed. “Uh— Yeah. Yeah, something like that. I’m okay.”

“You’re sure?”

He glanced at your hand, still on his arm, then back at you. He nodded quickly.

“Remus wanted me to come get you. We’re going to leave for dinner soon. James is coming, too.”

He nodded again, letting out a heavy breath. “Okay. Thanks.”

As soon as you left the room, he squeezed his eyes shut, the scenes of his dream and your pretty moans rattling around in his head with reckless abandon. A wave of guilt washed over him with it. It was bad enough to dream about his friend in that way, worse that said friend was dating his best friend, and downright diabolical that he really enjoyed that dream. He sat up, trying to shake that feeling, but it was much more difficult than he anticipated. The bulge in his pants that had become more than uncomfortable wasn’t helping, either.

Though, if he thought that was uncomfortable, it was nothing compared to dinner. James had dropped out of the plans at the last minute, leaving Sirius with you and Remus. Normally, third wheeling was fine by him: he was almost as close with you as he was with Remus. Though, it was an added discomfort that he couldn’t stop thinking about that dream all night. Every time you looked in his direction, he could picture your face as he was inside of you. Every time Remus looked at him, he felt like he could see right through him. That was somehow even more mortifying.

It only got worse later in the night.

You’d gone to the kitchen to put on some tea, claiming that you needed your ‘nightly caffeine’. Remus shook his head at you with a smile, accepting a soft kiss before you left that Sirius found himself watching too closely.

A moment after you were out of earshot, Remus settled his gaze on Sirius.

“What’s going on with you, Pads?”

Sirius blushed. “W-what?”

“Something’s up. She didn’t want to say anything, but you’ve been acting weird. Said you’ve barely talked to her all night,” Remus said with a raised brow. “It’s usually pretty hard to get you two to shut up when you’re together.”

“It’s nothing,” Sirius said, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing. Why won’t you tell me? When do we keep secrets?”

Sirius swallowed. “It’s— It’s hard to explain. I don’t think I can, Mooney.”

“Try me.”

He sighed, shaking his head as his eyes fluttered shut. This was more than embarrassing.

“I, um,” he groaned. “This is fucking embarrassing. I can’t.”

“It can’t be that bad. Remember when you told me about the time Amelie asked you to wear her—”

“Alright,” Sirius cut him off, throwing his hand up. “Alright. But you have to promise you won’t get pissed.”

Remus furrowed his brow. “Should I?”

“No. It isn’t…” Sirius clenched his teeth, then bit the bullet. “I had a dream about her.”

A silence settled over the room for a minute.

“Okay?” Remus responded at last.

Sirius huffed. “A sex dream.”

“Oh,” Remus’ eyes went wide. Then, he laughed. “You’ve been acting like this because of a dream?”

“It’s not funny, Mooney. I’ve never thought about her like that. It feels wrong.”

“Yeah, mate, you’re wanting to fuck my girl,” Remus said, laughing more. “‘Course you feel awkward.”

“I don’t want to fuck her.”

“Clearly you do,” Remus smirked. “Can’t blame you, either, but that’s no reason to shut her out. I have dreams like that all the time.”

“But you’re dating her. You’re supposed to,” Sirius huffed again.

“Should’ve known all the flirting would get you in trouble one day, Pads. Finally happened,” Remus said, leaning back in his seat with a grin.

“What finally happened?” you asked, coming in with a mug of tea.

You set it down on the table, just barely, before Remus was pulling you into his lap.

“Sirius was just telling me about a dream he had—”

“Remus,” Sirius warned. “Quiet.”

You furrowed your brow. “I feel like I missed something.”

Remus smirked, pressing a kiss to your neck, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your thigh.

“Just barely, darling,” he mumbled against your skin, looking at Sirius with a devious glint in his eyes. “Maybe Sirius will tell you sometime, yeah?”

Sirius blushed hard, averting his eyes, but only piquing your interest.

“Is this about why he’s been avoiding me?”

Remus smiled. “You’ll have to wait and see, darling.”

part 2 here!

[beansnsoup]

Jaelyn's fic recs!

Fluff- 🧡

Smut - 💛

Part One! -> Part Two!

Alastor-

☆ Deer Dolly - Series by @ohproserpine 🧡

☆ for valentines day, i thought i'd buy a gun. By @ohproserpine

synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose. 🧡💛?

☆ Alastor x Wife!Reader by @altruisticalastor

Summary: Lucifer gets a little too brazen with Alastor's darling wife. Guess the Ruler of Hell would just have to learn a lesson about who you belong to 💛

☆ my wife, my wife, my wife, my wife by @iicarused

synopsis:reader is vox’s ex and he’s not too keen of the separation — you were supposed to come back to him! not run around with his rival and get rid of his only access of looking after you (removing any/all electronics from your life) 🧡?

☆ come back to me by @iicarused

synopsis: you’re getting tired of the radio demon (part ii) 🧡?

☆ alastor + cunnilingus by @vmpyria 💛

☆ heaven knows your name by @iicarused

synopsis: heartaches after yearning for each other after decades of being apart 🧡

☆ alastor x married!reader by @bigfatbimbo 🧡

☆ DANCE WITH THE DEVIL by @popamolly

summary. Amidst the vibrant 1920s in New Orleans, a forbidden love unfolds in the lively jazz-filled atmosphere, evolving from an intoxicating romance to a twisted tale of heartbreak and murder, serving as a reminder to never dance with the devil. (SERIES) 🧡💛

Johnnie Guilbert-

☆ New Set by @corrodedcoffins-blog

summary: Giving boyfriend!Johnnie head scratches after getting new acrylics 🧡

☆ Collab by @teapartyprincess4two

summary: You and Johnnie pretend to date, faking it for so long that it became real. 🧡

☆ Run Your Mouth by @samandcolby-ownme

Prompt: Johnnie and reader get into an argument which leads to make up sex. 💛

☆ vampire!Johnnie x reader by @caeunot

summary- you find out your bf is a vampire 🧡💛?

☆ johnnie guilbert x reader by @caeunot

summary- johnnie writing zombie about you 🧡

☆ You by @sturnsreader 💛

☆ you know i’ll keep you in my locket by @stardustloserdoll 🧡

JSchlatt-

☆ "sit on my face." by @ghostkidabs 💛

☆ Jack & Coke part one by @d444zed 🧡💛?

☆ Jack & Coke part two by @d444zed 💛

☆ Mutual breakup headcanon/oneshot by @ohbabydollie 🧡

☆ Mutual breakup oneshot by @ohbabydollie 💛

Ellie Williams-

☆ no room for the holy spirit by @moncherellie 💛

☆ Roommate Trouble by @justkindalivin

summary: Your roommate Jesse and his girlfriend Dina fuck..a lot. loudly. When you finally get fed up after being woken up by their nightly “activities”, you go to Dina’s dorm for some peace and quiet only to run into her roommate, Ellie. 🧡💛

☆ hands to herself by @elliesbarbie

summary: ellie thinks you look a little too good in that bikini you chose to wear for the annual best friend vacay and can’t keep her hands off you 💛

☆ Getting caught with ellie by @me-and-your-husband 💛

☆ Body Ink by @me-and-your-husband

summary: you tattoo ellie's thigh. it's a bit of a compromising position, and it leads you down an unexpected road. female reader. 🧡💛

Alex Turner-

☆ Pillow Talk by @ohladymoon-blog

summary: what the title says, just pillow talk and soft cuddles after sex. ends in cockwarming. 🧡💛

☆ strawberry lace by @lilmisssweetdreams 🧡💛

☆ Test Drive by @savorypink 💛

Spiderman-

☆ Wingman (Hobie Brown) by @love-bitesx 🧡

☆ Crybaby (Hobie Brown) by @merowkittie 🧡

☆ "Thank You, Mrs. Parker." (Spider Noir) by @sabcandoit

Summary: After your wedding, you and Peter go home and have sex for the first time. 🧡💛

☆ Miss Your Face (TASM! Peter Parker) by @dontsaypetertingle

Summary: When you have to go out of town for work Peter gets lonely and a bit needy. An innocent call home to check on him becomes a lot more intense than originally planned. (Has a pt 2) 💛

☆ Break It In (Tom! Peter Parker) by @simplyparker

Summary: Peter gets his first car, and you want to have some fun 💛

☆ Please, Don't Stop Now by @echos-newlegs

Summary: you are in an established relationship with Peter, and he very much wants baby. 🧡💛

Fred Weasley-

☆ Facetime by @albertdabuttler

summary: !!MODERN AU!! Fred calls you in the middle of the night because he can’t sleep, but you look so pretty and he starts getting a little heated up. (Has 3 parts) 🧡💛

☆ Sweet Sugar Candyman by @keykeep 💛

☆ Sleeping In by @screamingoverfiction 💛

☆ Slipping Through My Fingers by @midnightmoonytales

Summary: Watching his little girl grow up had to one of his favorite things to see, but also one of the saddest. Every pivotal moment of her life flashing through his mind, even to this one now. (Wolfstar!daughter reader) 🧡

☆ Electric Pull by @apparentlytheproblem 🧡

Steve Harrington-

☆ I'll Be The Judge (Ft. Robin x Reader) by @luvfae

summary: steve and robin get into an argument about which one of them can give a girl a better orgasm, you come up with an idea to settle the argument once and for all. 💛

☆ Cowboy Hat Rule by @taintedcigs

summary: helping out mr. harrington in his ranch was supposed to be fun, but steve harrington was an asshole. an absolute pain in your ass that teased you, and you gave him the same energy back, always. so when you unknowingly wear his cowboy hat, he decides to teach you what exactly the cowboy hat rule is. 💛

☆ Marriage Pact by @fantasylandloser

summary: besties that plan to get married 🧡💛

Eddie Roundtree-

☆ Blind Date by @luvfae

Summary: The reader and Eddie get setup on a blind date 🧡💛

☆ Lead Singers Are Overrated by @luvfae

summary: working at the whiskey has it perks and that includes getting railed backstage by a certain bassist in a band. 💛

Extras-

☆ Not In On The Joke (Brian Quinn) by @joe--bro

Summary: The Jokers have to do certain tasks to win in the park, and a certain task given by the rest of the Jokers leads Q to talk to you. 🧡

☆ Flavored Kisses (Xavier Thorpe) by @cosmicpearlz

summary: in which you wear a different flavored chapstick everyday and your boyfriend xavier loves it. 🧡

☆ Babysitting (Judd Birch) by @just-another-author-i-guess

Summary: you and Judd are the designated babysitters for the night. 🧡💛

☆ Don't Fake It (Peter Quill) by @professorrw

Request/Summary: peter starts getting frisky with the reader but shes tired and isn’t really in the mood. He would never pressure her or anything but she wants to make him happy and feels bad saying no, so she does it and fakes her orgasm just to get it over with. Later, he somehow finds out (or knew all along, you decide) that she faked it and of course his ego is bruised and he’s kinda annoyed, but also feels guilty she didn’t tell him how she felt. So the next night, she starts coming onto him and he makes damn sure she never fakes it again. 💛

☆ So Beautiful (Loki Laufeyson) by @lokiisdaddyblog

Summary: Reader is feeling insecure and Loki proves to her that she's perfect. 🧡💛

[red-sneakers]

Every night, Izuku has nightmares about almost losing Katsuki in the war. He can’t get a good night’s sleep. It’s affecting his training.

One night, after a particularly awful nightmare, he can’t take it anymore. He takes his pillow and blanket, goes to Katsuki’s room, and knocks on the door.

Katsuki opens it to find Izuku with puffy eyes and streaks of tears still running down his cheeks and neck. Izuku goes on a blubbering, stuttering mutter-rant, asking Katsuki if he “could sleep in Kacchan’s room, but I’ll sleep on the other side of the room on the floor, so you won’t even know I’m there, really, I’ll be quiet, I just need to hear Kacchan’s breathing so I know —“ Katsuki cuts him off by yanking him into a tight hug.

Wordless, because Katsuki knows what Izuku *really* needs to hear, he invites Izuku into his bed and gets him to use his chest as a pillow - so Izuku can hear his heartbeat. The nightmares stop.

The next evening, Izuku thinks he’ll try and be brave. He won’t bother Katsuki in the middle of the night, even though it was wonderful spending the night in Kacchan’s arms.

After getting ready for bed in the communal bathroom, Izuku starts heading for his own room, but Katsuki grabs him by the wrist, leads him to *his* room, and yanks him into bed with him. It’s WAY earlier than Izuku usually goes to sleep, but he doesn’t care; he’s too elated (and relieved) to be in Kacchan’s arms again.

When Katsuki’s breathing starts to slow, something comes over Izuku, and he can’t help but press a soft kiss on his warm cheek. Katsuki mumbles a half-asleep “night, ‘zuku.”

This becomes an every night situation. Every night, Izuku sleeps in Katsuki’s bed, and every night he kisses Katsuki’s cheek before they both drift off. Nothing much else about their relationship changes, except that Izuku is MUCH better rested. Brighter eyes, pinker cheeks, more energy. His friends notice.

One night, when Izuku is going for his nightly cheek kiss, Katsuki turns his head at just the right moment, and their lips meet. Izuku doesn’t know if it’s an accident or not. He pulls away quickly and hides his face in Katsuki’s shoulder, heart racing, frozen with uncertainty until Katsuki mumbles his usual, “night, ‘zuku.” Izuku still doesn’t know if the kiss was an accident or not, but at least Katsuki’s not mad about it.

The next night, Katsuki turns his face again. It’s not an accident. The kiss isn’t lingering. It’s barely more than a peck, but it makes the butterflies in Izuku’s stomach go crazy all the same. He snuggles a little closer that night. He lets himself trace the contour of Katsuki’s collarbone over his soft t-shirt, and Katsuki runs his fingers through Izuku’s curls.

So this is their life for a while. They act relatively normal throughout the day, if you can call their usual dynamic “normal,” that is. A little more than rivals. A little more than friends. Sitting at different lunch tables. Always next to each other in class. Throwing one-liners back and forth all day, but rarely having lengthy conversations. Sharing a kiss and a bed every night.

Okay I gotta stop or I’m gonna write a whole fic lmao

[fandomscombine]

Maybe This Time

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

BG: Aaron Hotchner has been a constant in your life since university and as you both journey in your prosecutor career. But what happens when he has been given the opportunity of his dreams to be part of the BAU on the other side of the country? How will your dynamic change? Especially when feelings are put into the mix. 

Fluff part for now, before the angst. Enjoy the build up, young Hotch and obliviousness to feelings.

A/N: First ever Aaron Hotchner fic since something clicked in my brain and this man has me in a chokehold. Okay when I started writing this, I was at the beginning of Season 4 of Criminal Minds after a year long hiatus (aka didn’t have Disney+), so please excuse if it’s a bit out of character and that it doesn’t align with canon. No Haley and Jack. Let me know what you think!

Inspired by the song Maybe This Time by Sarah G and a line from Ugly Betty lol.

WC: 1428

>>>GENERAL MASTERLIST<<<

>>>CRIMINAL MINDS MASTERLIST<<<

The problem with having a constant is that you don’t realize how much it means to you until something threatens it to change it. 

You’re coming up to two years working at the prosecutor’s office, the feeling of helping people and solving cases is what fuels you. Though you admit, there are days where this isn’t enough to block out the misogynistic atmosphere of the office. In all honesty, you don’t think you would have lasted as long in such an environment if it weren’t for Aaron Hotchner.

What started as an academic rivalry turned into being inseparable. Nerds with an overwhelming drive to fix the world. It was actually Aaron who offered the olive branch - admitting that while the constant competition and pettiness helped him be the best self on paper, was straining his mental and physical well-being. Turns out you both have a lot in common - same taste in literature and surprisingly dead-pan humor. The man’s ability to drop unexpected one-liners is beyond you, only to be topped by his laugh albeit rare. 

A genuine Aaron Hotchner chuckle easily fills an entire room as if you’re floating on a cloud - a laugh that is quite the opposite to what he just left out.

“What?” 

“Yes! Can you believe it?” Aaron exclaims, releasing his hold on your shoulders. “There’s an opening at the Behavioural Analysis Unit - nothing permanent yet but they’re looking into a pool for the perfect candidate and I’ve been shortlisted!” 

~

The training program at the BAU lasted 3 months and in that span, the excitement during the first few weeks had you and Aaron in constant communication despite him being across the country in Quantico. But as the weeks went on, the calls dwindled until there were none at all.

You were proud of your best friend, you truly are - having found an advancement in his career. Though you can’t shake off the empty feeling in your chest. You catch your mind often thinking about him lately - more than a friend should.

What is happening to you?

Aaron has been more than grateful to have this opportunity. Working under the mentorship of the BAU founders, Aaron knew coming in that the cases would be grueling. He's barely gotten a good 8 hours of sleep since he’s arrived but the nightly calls with you updating about his day was the only thing keeping him on powering through, channeling back to your school rival days. Well, at least then he would get to see your face daily - now all he has is the photo he has in his wallet.

“Suck it, Hotchner! Bow down to your superior!” 

“Never!”

“Says the Magna Cum Laude to the Summa Cum Laude. Face it - it’s in writing for the world to see!” You teased, it was always a blast to have Aaron red.  There was no way you were gonna let this down and Aaron knew that - charging at you before you could finish.

“Y/N L/N is smarter than Aaron Hotch-NERRRRRRRR!” Aaron picking you up and spinning caught you by surprise - hands instinctively looping around his neck. 

Neither of you notice the clicking of a camera, too enclosed in your own little world. 

“You’re one lucky man.” The comment breaks Aaron from his trance. 

“Sir?”

“Your girlfriend, I notice you step out and look at it whenever you’re stressed” Rossi says matter of factly, patting Aaron’s shoulder. One doesn’t have to be a profiler to notice that yearning on Aaron’s face. “You know the job takes a toll on everyone and it’s rare to see the lightness after a while.”

Aaron didn’t know how to react, his stare continued even after his boss had left. Girlfriend. His brain had momentarily stopped working when he heard of the word. Someone had thought you were his girlfriend - he didn’t correct them, and it felt good. 

~

Ever since Rossi’s comment, Aaron has been teetering back and forth about his recent discovery about himself. Because that’s the thing about you being a constant in his life, he had grouped his feelings for you and categorized them under ‘best friend’, effectively blinding himself from the evolution of his feelings. 

How can he be a good profiler when he can’t even read his own emotions? Does she even feel the same way? 

But that’s not even the biggest elephant in the room.

“Congratulations!” Hugging him tightly, your next words are muffled by his chest. “I know you've wanted this for so long.” Tilting your head up to meet his eyes, “I’m so proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have gotten it if you didn’t push me in sending my application.” Aaron’s hold on your waist tightens, not wanting to let you an inch away from him. Aaron has just gotten back from a 6-hour flight from Quantico, his body begging for rest but his heart aching for your presence. 

The longing of months apart running through his brain and the next thing he knows, his feet have taken him to your apartment at 2 in the morning instead.

“Aaron?” you called, breaking him from his trance. “What’s on your mind?”

Aaron could help but chuckle. Of course even when he showed up unannounced and woke you up in the dead of night. Your first concern was about him.

Coming from a strict family and being the oldest, having someone worry about him was uncommon. So when these moments arrive, it hits him with full force.

“Nothing…” He exhales, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear. Aaron hopes you don’t feel how shaky his hands are as he does so. 

You raise your brows at him.  Aaron might be a man of few words, but you’ve known him long enough to know when he is holding back.

He sighs, the room is quiet and any wrong move would break the balance. Aaron cups your cheek, glancing from your lips to your eyes. He steels himself to lay his discovery out in the open. “It’s just…you’re so captivatingly beautiful.”

Your eyes widen. Is he saying what you think he’s saying? Aaron has called you pretty in the past, but there was an air of playfulness then compared to this whispered statement.

With the tension increasing ten-fold with each word. “These past few months, I was working at my dream job yet I couldn’t feel the best because you weren’t by my side.  Each night I looked forward to hearing your voice, whether it’s about how your day went or what you thought about the latest movie. And it killed me inside when the calls stopped…”

Aaron gulped, pausing to blink back tears that threaten to fall. 

Reaching up to grab his hand, you placed a kiss on his palm. Silently urging him to carry on and to say ‘me too’.

“I felt so guilty… then one day my boss caught me staring at a picture of us. He said that I was lucky to have a lovely girlfriend as an anchor to help in this grueling job and… I didn’t correct him.”

“You didn’t correct him?”

“I didn’t.” Aaron was now looking at his feet- embarrassed, mentally preparing for the rejection that was to come for letting his mind wander to the possibility of something more with you. He had crossed the line and placed his heart in your hands. “ At first I didn’t know how to react, you are my best friend, my constant support. But at that moment, everything became clearer.” Aaron confessed, however your response may be he will accept even if it would be the last ever time he gets to hold you in his arms. “Y/N. You’re my best friend, my constant support and I adore you.”

A beat passes as you process his words. 

“I’m sorry to spring this on you considering the circumstances. I understand if you want to keep a distance and not want to see me again.” Aaron steps back, takes one last look at you before turning to pick up his bag and leave. 

But as his hand reaches the doorknob, he is abruptly turned and pushed against the door. His gasp of pain is muffled by the crashing of your lips. Aaron drops his bag and instinctively pulls you closer. Air to breathe and the doorknob pocking his back be damned.

You were the first to pull away just enough that your lips brush each other’s. “I know you’re leaving in five months. And I know everyone’s gonna say it’s a big mistake. And I’m gonna get my heart broken but maybe it’s worth it.”

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Akashi Takeomi - "Late Night Lovin'"

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In which a certain Bonten executive comes home quite late at night to his husband and enjoys a lovely dessert a lot sooner than he thought he would. Or; In which Akashi Takeomi's house husband spoils him rotten with whatever he wants tonight.

Warnings -> Kind Of Suggestive At The End.

                                                                                                   

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“Hmm hm hmmm hm-hm~♪”

[Name] hums a small tune to himself as he stands before the stove, making dinner for himself and his husband.

He and his beloved husband had been married for 4– going on 5 –years now. While his love was working hard at his job as a "marketing executive" he stayed home and looked after the house. Cleaning here and there, washing the laundry, doing the dishes, watering the plants, etc. It did get a bit lonely when his husband was called away for a business trip overseas, but he always managed to power through it due to their nightly phone calls.

[Name] used the spatula in his hand to flip over the pieces of chicken that sat in the skillet; coating the cooking meat in oil and spices. He was trying out a recipe that their neighbor had told him about the other day. The name of the dish completely escaped him, but he thankfully remembered the majority of the recipe. A sigh fell from his lips though when he saw a newly formed stain on the apron he was wearing; damn, it was a gift from his darling too.

The sound of jingling keys brought his attention away from the food; having him perk up and turn down the heat of the eye before running to the door to greet his love.

He made it into the living room just in time to see his husband shrugging off his snow-speckled coat. The apron-clad man smiles as he helps tug off his husband's coat; hanging up on one of the wall hooks that were mounted right next to the door. Clasping his hands in front of himself; [Name] waited until the other had kicked off his shoes to practically jump on him and pull him into a hug.

“Welcome home, Omi! How was work? Did you like the lunch I packed for you today? I'm making dinner, are you hungry?”  

The h/c-ette coos excitedly as he asks questions that he doesn't give the other enough time to answer.

Takeomi chuckles softly; he has grown used to his hyperactive lover by now. The younger always became very excited when he came home after being gone for long periods. He reminded the Bonten executive of a puppy sometimes; truly adorable.

The taller silenced [Name]; gently putting a finger to his lips and letting out a soft ‘shhh’. The apron-wearing man felt his face slightly warm as he looked into his lover's tired eyes; quickly and shyly looking away when they narrowed at him just a bit.

“One question at a time, Lovely.—”  

The man chuckles softly; moving his hand from his husband's mouth to gently tuck a strand of unruly hair back into place.

“—Work was alright; I closed a very good deal today, so I was given a few days off as a bonus. Lunch was delicious as usual; everything you cook is perfect. And yes, I'm hungry.”  

[Name] beams at him with a grin that could rival the light of the stars that twinkle just out the window. Taking the older's hand; he excitedly pulls him into the dining room and rushes back to the kitchen to finish dinner. Takeomi chuckles as he watches him scurry off, resting his chin on his palm as he patiently waits for his meal.

“You know…”  

Takeomi mutters before finishing his last bite of food; turning a sultry half-lidded gaze to his lover seated across from him.

“I think I'm still feeling hungry.”  

[Name] looks up from his own nearly finished plate; sending the other a soft smile as he finishes his one or two bites and stands from his seat, plate in hand. Walking over to the other end of the table; he picks up the other's plate and sits it on top of his own.

“I'll get you another plate then, Honey.”  

The h/c-ette hums softly; leaning down to press a kiss on his husband's temple.

An arm wraps around his waist and keeps him in place; hand gently caressing his hip. Takeomi gives a cheeky smirk as his hand travels down to his young lover's bottom; giving it a firm squeeze.

“That's not exactly what I'm hungry for, Kitten. I'm in the mood for something a little… sweeter.”  

It seemed the two would be having dessert a lot sooner than planned.

He purrs; sharp eyes narrowing even further as he gives [Name] the look of a hungry lion. 

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🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

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