#or enjoys to watch insanity unfold

[aph-states-and-more]

Hey guys! This is Kustaa! I want to go off topic and share some stories of shenanigans instead of giving explanations to our existence, but first I need to explain our relationship with the other nations, or more specifically, the very few who know about us.

The nations at large do not know we exist, mostly due to the fact that since we became independent Mom (what we call Alfred due to him pretending to be a woman as a way to not arouse suspicion as to why he had so many kids when it came to not getting caught by humans, and it just stuck) he has been given strict orders to not tell any other nations, no matter how close (not even Uncle Mattie knew for a while), and this order has been reinstated with each new president. there are a few exceptions. I also got a bit bored and add how some of them reacted to running into us during the wars. that list is:

ps: you will notice a trend of us calling them some form of uncle, this is because due to mom being so drastically outnumbered by us and unable to tell any of the others they kinda just... took up position, this is more about Onkel Gil, Dėdė Tolys, and Zio Vino as the rest of the uncles mentioned are related. they also have a habit of being overprotective (specifically when it comes to any actual fights/battles), but that's just because to them we are "babies" due how young we are comparatively. to them its like if they found a micronation in a war uniform, sure we are physically older, but that's just due to how the states age vs Nations. I mean in all fairness some of us are physically older than mom, who they still see and being really young, so to them- despite how physically old we are, and how capable we are- they still kinda feel responsible for keeping us safe when around, especially since they are part of our family.

Prussia:

Onkel Gil found out when he showed up to train Mom for the revolution, found him wrangling some of the older ones cause they were trying to join the fight. He caught us on both sides of the war both World wars. Not only did he teach Mom, but he taught a majority of us as well so he is one of the few who are able to spot us about 40%-50% of the time. If we were on the same side he would tail us at a distance not wanting to put too much attention on us by showing interest, but occasionally he would buddy up to us a bit under the guise of 'taking a shine to the new recruit'. caught us sneaking files and snooping once or twice but would always just look the other way and scold us later for getting caught. Any training done with him around was harsher and more intense as he wanted to make sure we had the ability to stay safe out there for as long as we could. if we met on the battlefield it turned into him testing out abilities, seeing how much of what he taught us was still there. Usually tried to do it away from the main fight so that we didn't get caught in the crossfire of anything, but it was always a test of skill when met. In WW2 he actively helped us get people out of the country and getting us info when he could, and when he was sent to a camp due to being an albino we were quick to get him out.

Tolys:

Dėdė Tolys found out when he came to live with us, kinda hard to hide that many kids from the person living with us (he got hooked on moonshine while around, and I mean the proper shit cause those states have been working on the recipe for a long ass time). When he caught us in the wars, if we were on the same side he would stick to us like glue, make sure we were properly training, making sure we weren't injured, making sure we ate, weren't getting sick, etc. Major mother hen when around, and he got teased at times for it. When on opposite sides this man would legit try to just, kidnap us off the battle field. He knocked Rytas unconscious once and dragged him away from the fight, just kinda standing guard till near the end where he let himself be run off by a few of the soldiers who were serving with Rytas'. The second he spotted us it became a mission of getting us as far away from the battle field and making sure we remained as uninjured as possible. Even if it meant ambushing us to do it. Did catch a few of us doing some dumb and reckless shit and scolded us for it after making sure we were ok, but for the most part if we got caught, his mission became getting us away from the fighting.

Lovino:

Zio Vino Same as Tolys. When we were caught by him it he was similar to Tolys, I think the two made a pact on what they would do if they found us running around the battle field. If on the same side he did that "pretending not to be a mother hen, but 100% being a mother hen" thing he does, constantly keeping an eye on us either whereever we were stationed or on the battle field. if on opposite sides he would do whatever he could to get us away from the main fight. (though there were several times they only saw us because we did something reckless and-or dumb, and would scold us for said reckless behavior after making sure we were ok.) He straight up tackled Merlin once so that they fell into a covered trench and just, refused to let him get up till the fighting died down a bit. He knew anyone in his military was there for info, and he even helped, distracting higher ups, casually mentioning important studs around us, choosing places for meetings that we could eavesdrop on with less chances of getting caught, etc.

Matthew:

found out after WW1, specifically when the depression started as Mom was debating sending the younger kids to live with uncle Mattie for a while, but ultimately didn't (tho Uncle Mattie did help out a lot). During WW2 if he spotted any of us he would get this extremely exasperated look and then spend the entire time we were serving in the same area being overprotective (or reigning us in, and ruining our fun. because apparently sneaking off to go vandalize the enemy base as a phycological tactic is "needlessly reckless" and "not worth the risk"). if we were on opposite sides he would yell at us to 'get the fuck out of the thick of it' in one of our native languages (he alternated as to not arise suspicion) and then draw attention to himself to give us a chance to get out. if we didn't, he would proceed to use any and all means to force us into retreat or just getting away (he chased Dorota through a battle field with a flame thrower once because she was being a little shit and refused to leave. he didn't actually burn her, just gave her an excuse for the retreat while also not giving her a choice in the matter, but the message was pretty clear, if Uncle Mattie catches us, we gotta go quick)

Mathias:

Morbror Mat found out sometime during 1937 when he came to check up on Mom and due to stuff happening at the time ended up meeting us instead. He is the only Nordic that knows Mom and Uncle Mattie are Berwald's kids. To be fair we only know because our grandmother admitted it when Stellen was born, and that Berwald had left for home before she was showing. She knew but didn't tell him because she had helped talk him through some of the relationship issues he and Timo had been having at the time and knew that Berwald truly loved Timo. Mom made him promise not to tell, but he has been around as much as possible since he found out, wanting to ''make up for lost time with his nephew and his nephew's kids''. Not that he will ever admit it, but he has a bit of anger towards grandma for not telling Berwald, and I can tell it eats away at him sometimes that he can't say anything to the other Nordics. Grandma knows it, but I dont think they have actually talked about it yet. In WW2 anytime he was in the same area or ran into us at camps or on the battle field he would either wordlessly join us and tail us till we got moved (or the battle was over) or in the event that he ran into one of the ones on the other side he would kinda herd us away from the main fight and then do a mini fake fight till majority of the battle was done (his way of not letting us get hurt under his watch but not getting us caught) then part ways under the pretense of mutual retreat.

Side note: Honestly we learned pretty quick with all of them that if we were caught, we needed to get out of the center of battle and stick to the outskirts where we were less likely to get hurt or get caught in crossfire as much as we didn't like it, an often times tried to find ways around it, it was easier to just give them a small piece of mind that for the moment we were safer, they were already dealing with enough, so letting them fret and fuss in their own ways wasn't that bad in the long run. plus they usually reported to mom that they saw us and that we were ok, so it gave mom some peace of mind as well.

Ravis:

we kinda adopted him when we were living in Ivan's Walls during the Cold War, and dragged him into helping us cause shenanigans around the house. That kid was in major need of a confidence boost and we called dibs on him. We actually kidnapped him not long after he officially got out of the USSR, and he spent a while at our house. at first we didn't tell mom, and then we eventually just dragged him to family diner and mom took one look at him, saw us treating him like family, and said fuck it, guess I have another kid. He and Avar are really "close" (they have been dancing around each other for a while, and I can't tell if they are already dating and pretending not too to stop the rest of us from teasing them, or genuinely aren't together yet)

Emil:

kinda?... not specifically? When some of the nordic states (me included) were bouncing around the Scandinavian militaries we found Iceland hiding out in his brothers Militaries, and bouncing to another when/if he got killed. Eiro got shot infront of him (didn't die, but close to fatal), and then when Emil (who had been killed, and just healed quicker) was trying to bring his body back in an attempt to get them healed, they bounced back up with majority of the damage gone and scared the shit out of Emil. Eiro said something to the effect of 'I know you are Iceland. I am something similar but I cant say anything about who or what I am, but I promise we are just here to help' We never told him what we were, but we did all introduce ourselves whenever we saw him. Even helped him hide from his brothers when they were assigned to the same area as him (we are pretty sure they caught on to the fact that Emil was somewhere in their militaries and were trying to find him to send him home). In WW1, he was just in Finland's (and the other Nordics somewhat followed suit, though while Mathias, Berwald, and Lukas were all aware of where the others were and who was active when, they weren't aware of Emil's involvement. In WW2 he was able to bounce around more, and therefore was able to be active more often (as he had to take longer in-betweens in WW1 as to not get caught). We still kinda hang out, and meet ups at times, but we have never specified what we are or anything. Just a mutual understanding of "also some kind of immortal, and probably some kind of nation or something similar" and no questions asked about it.

[mv1simp]

prompt: max finding out one of the driver's "innocent" sister actually has a secret diary/account dedicated to all her naughty desires for him

Sweet Like Candy ♥️

Max Verstappen x Camgirl!Reader

sugar coated, lies unfolded, you still lick the wrapper. its addictive, you know this (but you still lick the wrapper)

At 27, three time world champion Max Verstappen has become bored with the blinding glamour and fake crowds who try to cling onto his fame. So when you catch his interest, sparking desire for the first time in months, he quickly becomes obsessed. He just never imagined his favourite camgirl would turn out to be his ex teammate’s shy, little sister who needed to pay off her college loans.

Content includes: 18+ MDNI, smut, camgirl!reader, Riccardio!reader, basically sugar daddy! max vibes lolz, somnophilia, blackmail, filming, cheating, 3.8k WC

Max Verstappen knew he was famous - everyone wanted a piece of the most desired driver in the richest sport on earth. When he'd been younger, high off the rush of being crowned a world champion, he’d been cockier about it, too. He enjoyed the smug arrogance that came with his skill, with his million figure paycheck, knowing that most men he met wanted to be him and most girls wanted to be with him. And it certainly didn’t hurt that he looked the way he did, all 6 foot of thick, built muscle and angled jawline with intense blue eyes. He’s had more than his fair share of rolling around in the sheets (and private jets and yachts and backseats of luxury Aston Martins - you get the picture) with countless models and actresses.

Now, at 27, he’d mellowed out, being quietly assured in his confidence and dominating aura. His talent and insane track record does all the talking for him without him needing to say a word when he steps into any room. And he’d stopped his playboy ways too, now the very picture of a loyal family man with his long term model girlfriend and her child who he doted on. It was true that he didn't hold any romantic feelings for her or love her particularly - but that was rare these days, anyways, with the superficial women who constantly surrounded him. But he knew he had her loyalty and in turn, she was provided for with access to Max's fame and finances.

Sure, he’s still offered temptations of money, drugs, alcohol, and sex on the daily, with tens of thousands of people desperate to offer him something to get a taste of the famous Max Verstappen. But unlike his younger self, his self control these days was much better. He rarely found something new that he hadn’t already tried and gotten bored of in his glamorous life as a F1 driver. He’d already started planning his retirement after his Redbull contract ended, somewhere on a remote island far away from all the greedy swarms eager to sink their claws into him.

So one day when one of his mates sent him a link, and your OnlyFans page pops up as he hovered over it, Max just rolled his eyes. His friend had texted that he had to check this chick out, she was so fucking sexy. Max had almost ignored it, already being used to countless offers from insta models DMing him on the daily. But maybe he’d been extra bored that day, because somehow he ends up clicking onto your page. And everyday, he thanks whatever fucked up God was watching from above that he did. Because what he saw next quickly became the world champion’s secret obsession.

You’re a cute young 20something, the very vision of a pure angel who lusted for dirtier fantasies she was too shy to ask for in real life. Your OnlyFans feed was filled with horny thoughts about wanting to get fucked by your older brother’s hot friend or which sexy songs you liked to listen to as you breathlessly use your pink bullet vibrator. It's a new page, started only a month ago, but you already have a few thousand followers, all drooling over the innocent yet tempting pictures you post. Nothing too raunchy - but more suggestive, in tight pastel crop tops with your nipples poking through or a shot of your curvy ass in a white lace panties. Probably a college kid, Max guessed, from the fact that the corner of a textbook could sometimes be seen in your photos and that you offered more naughtier photos to those viewers who payed a little extra. Clearly not any sort of adult film actress - and Max would know, because he’d definitely had some fun with one (or two) before.

But the real cherry on top was when he scrolled across a recent video stream you’d posted. Playing it out loud in his empty penthouse, his cock immediately hardened at the sight of your petite, curvy figure dressed up in lacy lingerie. You sat on your fluffy bed, surrounded by pink fluffy cushions and throw blankets, your face hidden from your teasing smile up. Your glossy, pouting lips giggle easily as you sway your hips in the cute lace babydoll you’re wearing, excitedly chattering about some pop singer you liked or the other. You're answering prying questions viewers are asking, reading them out loud from the chat. Did you have a boyfriend, what's your ideal type of man?

Max likes the soft, playful sound of your girly voice. His mind dirtily wonders what you'd sound like moaning underneath his much larger form. You hmmm for a second, pouting cutely, before shyly admitting that there was just one guy you’d had a crush on for ages, but he had no idea you existed. A friend of your brother's, in fact, you guys probably know him, you mused. He’s pretty famous! Comments flood the chat, trying to guess if he was a singer or actor or-

Nope, he’s an athlete! You giggle, biting your glossy lip and playing with your hard nipples. Max can’t resist palming his own cock through his sweats as he hungrily enjoys the sight of your pretty brown areolas through the see-through lace. He-mmmh-he’s Dutch, you begin, suppressing cute gasps as you toy with your oversensitive, perky tits. So tall, too, and super strong, I love seeing him shirtless! I’ll give you guys one more clue…he’s the fastest man alive when you put him in a racecar.

Ice blue eyes narrow as the comments finally hone in on just who you were talking about. So this is why his friend had sent him this, huh? He couldn’t deny he wasn’t pleased with the way you giggle cutely and confirm that your big fat crush was on Max Verstappen. I know it’s wrong, you whine, breathless as your small, manicured fingers slip down your body to play with the edge of your panties. It’s so naughty, he doesn’t know me and even has a pretty girlfriend, but every night I dream about him fucking me. He’s so hot, so dreamy, and that Dutch accent of his - you cut yourself off with a pleasurable moan, now teasing the audience as you finger yourself through your dripping panties, not letting anyone get a full view of your innocence. Let’s just say I’d let him use me anytime, anywhere, however he wants, you laugh sweetly, your voice a contrast to your dirty words.

Oh, fuck. Talk about a vixen. He hadn't seen a treasure as rare as you in a long time. And it looked like many, many viewers enjoyed your particular brand of angelic sinfulness as multiple donations flood in, begging you to finally take your panties off on the main stream. Max can't stop himself from sending a generous one himself, after jacking off to completion at the sweet sounds of you cumming through your panties. You'd eagerly humped one of your pink cushions, tits bouncing through the practically see through lingerie, moaning Max’s name as if he was right there under you when you reached your peak. Oops, sorry guys! You giggle again, your sweet voice now bashful. Got too caught up, next time I’ll make sure to say the name of the highest donor, mmkay?

It's a good OnlyFans account - no, a great one, but Max didn’t think of it much afterwards, getting caught up in his own busy life and making sure to erase his search history in case his overly paranoid girlfriend came snooping. The fact that you'd mentioned he was friends with your brother also meant very little, given his very large circle of friends and acquaintances given his fame. Everyone liked to say they were mates with Max Verstappen, F1 champion, even if the extent of friendship had been a single handshake.

To his surprise though, a few days later he received a private DM from you, sweetly thanking him for his generous donation! Curious, he opens your message, knowing you wouldn't know who he was from his generic username of CatDaddy33. He hadn't thought he had sent you much at all, maybe a couple grand? You deserved it, working so hard to dress up cutely and pay off whatever college loans you probably had.

But apparently you thought it was a very lavish contribution, because you’d sent him a very tempting photo as a thank you gift. He’d almost dropped his phone when he sees your lush bare tits, out on display as you stuck your pink tongue out cheekily, the rest of your face still hidden. Just for you. Hope you enjoy! you captioned, one small hand cupping your breasts and squeezing a pretty nipple that practically had Max salivating to sink his teeth into. Oh, he certainly enjoyed it, saving it to his private collection to jack off too later when his uptight girlfriend wasn’t in the mood - which was usually the case the majority of the month.

He ends up logging back onto your page that night to enjoy your latest steam, then another, and soon enough he had a full blown infatuation with you. Your tempting, curvy figure and your pretty lips that you bite as you keep talking about how turned on Maxie had made you in the qualifying today, looking so muscly and angry! has him downloading your naughty nudes to his phone. It’d been a long time since a girl had gotten him get so turned on, after all. You drove him wild with your girly, innocent mannerisms paired with your sexy body and filthy words as you play with yourself, always making sure to never fully reveal your face or naked cunny to the viewers with a slutty outfit covering you.

Of course, he generously tips each time he visits your page, resulting in you frequently sending him more thank you presents each time. Lately you've been asking him if he wants you to wear a certain outfit or call out his name in your next video, but he texts back that he just enjoyed watching you have fun, sweetheart. And that's true - because that's all this can be, just a private guilty pleasure for him to enjoy behind closed doors. The rest of the world wouldn't respond well to his dedicated, family man image if they knew that the Dutch champion secretly liked his girls sweet and begging for his attention on adult websites. Even though his actual relationship had become more of a PR facade, now, and had been that way for well over six months. The last chemistry fizzled out when she’d tried to wake Max up with her mouth on his morning wood, somehow trying to make up for weeks of no sex. He made up some excuse about being stressed for the race as he rapidly softened despite her repeat attempts, pushing her off him and going to shower.

But as soon as he’s under the warm steam, he’d only had to close his eyes and picture your perfect, full pouting lips on his cock instead for his impressive semi to come rushing back. As he lazily strokes himself, he wonders what your eyes looked like, still having never seen them with how you kept the top half of your face off the frame. Would you look up at him sultrily as your pink tongue darted out and licked his slit, or did you prefer having him meanly shove his cock all the way in as you gagged with wide, teary doe eyes? He guessed the second fantasy would be your pick, judging by how your breath seemed to hitch in excitement whenever a commanding order was DMed to you following a donation. The submissive type, for sure, who’d once said she’d eagerly let Max Verstappen have his way with her wherever, however he wanted her-

He came with a muffled groan, panting heavily as his release drips down to be cleaned away by the hot water. Maybe he’d finally give into your pleas to him to request something and ask you to suck a sweet lollipop for him on your next stream.

He puts his distracting thoughts about you to the back of his mind as he arrives on the paddock, camera flashes going crazy as they note the increased distance between the Redbull driver and his unhappy girlfriend as she trails behind him. Frankly, Max had stopped caring what his public image was at this point in the season, knowing it was only a matter of time before he got his PR manager involved to cook up some mutual breakup story to feed the media.

Qualifying goes well and the race even better for once, despite the shit box his car had been this season. Afterwards, he greets Daniel, who greets him excitedly and commends his race efforts. The two drivers are laughing, catching up easily in their conversation - when a small figure turns the corner to come up next to Daniel’s side. Oh! The Australian man grins, gently tugging the shy figure by his side forward. You remember my little sis, right Max?

The Dutchman stared at your blushing face as you nervously avoid eye contact with the much taller blonde. Cute, he thinks briefly, finding your brown doe eyes and Riccardio curls pretty. Sure, I remember her, we met at the Silverstone race last year, right? It had been a brief meeting, Daniel swinging by the Redbull garage to congratulate Max and you’d been trailing behind him. Max vaguely remembered you from your younger days, when you’d shyly stayed out of the older boys' way when he had visited Daniel in his Perth family home in Australia. But you’d grown up now, and had chosen to attend college overseas in London, and Max politely asks if you were still studying there. On a full ride scholarship too, Daniel confirms proudly, fondly ruffling your curls and making you protest. Still won’t accept a dime from her older brother, even with the ridiculous London rent.

Pouting rather adorably, you quickly fix your hair, glaring at your sibling as you mutter that you didn’t want his tax evasion money, thanks, you could look after yourself. Max laughs, pleasantly surprised you had some teeth behind your blushing, pretty face. You immediately look up to see his gorgeous blue eyes looking at you in interest before nervously flicking them away again, clutching onto Daniel’s hoodie as the two men resume their conversation. Later, as he watches you walk away, Max can’t help thinking about how your girly voice and pouting lips had looked so familiar. He knows many beautiful women, but there was something about your unique, natural face that made attraction swirl in his chest. He’s still thinking about it that night, annoyed about not knowing where else he’s seen you besides at your brother’s side.

And then your latest video had him sitting up straight in shock. Because he recognises the hoodie that’s draped across the back of your chair in the corner of the screen. He'd recognise it anywhere. You, of course, probably had not thought twice about the item of clothing that belonged to your brother - with it just looking like another piece of F1 merchandise to anyone watching. But Max knew that Redbull insignia on the back, signed DR3 along the logo generically but with an extra little present that Max had drawn on himself when his teammate had fallen asleep next to him on a private plane ride. The crude, cartoon dick drawing stares back at Max through the screen as he immediately recognises what he’d found funny as an 18 year old. There was only one person in the world who would own this sweatshirt personally customized by the world champion - and given the fact that you were the one who seemed to have borrowed it….the mystery of your identity finally unravels.

He sends you a private DM that very night, not wanting to play any games. He knew he had to have you, now that he knows you’re right under his nose. I know who’s little sister you are, baby.

You respond back immediately, which isn’t suprising considering how you’re in the same time zone currently. I have no idea what you’re talking about, you text, trying to deny his claim. Max smirks. He almost feels mean for winding you up but he knows you’ll be so grateful for it in the end. You’re telling me you aren’t Daniel Riccardio’s little sister? I saw you on the paddock today. No point in hiding anymore.

You seen his message for a few tense minutes, and he wonders if he approached this wrong because you could just block him. But then you frantically send back a how the hell do you know that? How did you find out?

Max chuckles as he corners you right where he wants. And an hour later you’re on a private video call with him, very differently dressed that your usual skimpy attire in a baggy t-shirt that covers all your skin as you demand to know just what he wanted. Of course, you still have no idea who he is, because even though he has his camera on, his face is well out of view. You can only squint at the image of a fit appearing guy, dressed casually in sweats but his strong muscles still showing through. You impatiently read out the next DM he sends you. I want to see your pussy, spread open for me completely-What the hell?! you shriek, outraged.

You try to get out of it, saying that was too embarrassing to do, but he makes you realise there it was futile to resist. He orders you to show your face in the video, saying there’s no point hiding it anymore since he knew exactly who you were. All over DM, of course - he couldn’t have your recognising his deep, Dutch voice that you always gushed about.

You pout cutely, lips downturned and an upset expression on your face as you slowly undress yourself for him. Then you follow his orders, gently playing with yourself as you teasingly suckle on your pink vibrator so that he could imagine what you’d look like with your lips around him, instead. Max lazily jerks himself off to the sight, enjoying how you started obediently following his instructions once you saw his hand reach into his sweats and slide his erection out. Your doe eyes went wide with guilty desire at the sight of his impressive, hard length, and you swallow back drool when you see his leaking, angry tip. Soon he had you spreading your puffy cunny lips wide for him to greedily look at, before you start sliding your little vibrator in between your achy core. He makes you call out his name like you always did, of course, and say out loud all of the dirty fantasies you’d been dreaming about lately involving your brother’s best friend. You cum intensely and Max follows shortly after, the both of you caught up in the sinful activity.

It’d been easy enough to find out the room number you’d been staying at as the Riccardio siblings were at the same hotel as him, and even easier to get the swipe card. He was Max Verstappen, after all. Leaving his bitchy girlfriend alone in his room, he makes his way to yours in the middle of the night. The hallway light briefly illuminates your peacefully sleeping figure when he opens the door, quietly locking it behind him.

You’re deep asleep, plush tits rising and falling, dressed in a cute see through lace nightgown and matching panties. After admiring the sight for a few minutes, he slides into bed behind you, finally getting to toy with those pretty nipples and squeeze the plush ass he’d been fantasising about for weeks on end. You quietly moan in your unconscious state, sleepily grinding back against the warm, hard body holding you and arching your back into the hungry mouth suckling on your stiff nipples. Soon he’s wedges his fat cock in between your thick thighs, panting heavily as he fucks then slowly so you don’t wake up. He barely lasts a couple minutes, his head dizzy with pleasure for the first time in months as blood rushes to his already hard cock. After he’s cum copiously all over your tanned skin, he slides off your panties to take for himself, making sure to rub his creamy release along your puffy slit with his large hands. He can’t resist sliding a finger inside to get feel of how luxuriously tight your pussy feels, groaning when he feels your walls clench down on him. His cock was going to experience heaven when it finally got to sink home inside you, he was sure.

You spend your day confused the next morning, remembering hazy wet dreams from the night before but not quite being able to recall exact what you’d dreamt. And you’d never been able to find your favourite lace panties, assuming they got lost in the laundry when room service cleaned up. Until your online bully, as you’d taken to calling him, sends you a naughty photo. It’s one that he could only have had access to if he’d taken it himself, you realize with a shocked gasp, as you stare at your peacefully sleeping figure. A gigantic cock, much bigger than any of your cute toys, slides into the waistband of your pink panties - which are completely see through from how soaked they’ve become. And that was one of the tamer pictures Max took that night. He wonders how you’d react to the one he has of his drooling tip brushing against your parted lips, his sticky release from earlier now leaking into your wet mouth.

You’re even cuter when you’re not putting up a fight his message says. You freak out, of course, but he doesn’t respond to your frantic questions and instead orders you to be dressed up for him tonight in that navy lace babydoll and matching blindfold set he’s having delivered, okay?

You swallow, unable to hide the rising curiosity and desire at the rich, mysterious stranger you had drawn in. You can’t really be mad at him when he sends a $10k reward to your account after teasing you with the filthy photos he’d been taking. A girl had to pay off her college loans, after all.

Besides, a hot, muscled sugar daddy appealed to you a lot more than streaming for thousands of strangers. You couldn’t wait to meet him tonight!

—————————————————————————

A/N: 😏😏😏 thank you so much for waiting patiently my dearest readers, work has been crazy but I finally have some time now to feed you!!! Get ready I’m about to be dropping some hot pieces for you including part 2 of earned it and haunted!!

[frostimochi]

resolutions

(logan howlett x reader)

summary: You and Logan attend a New Years party hosted by Wade. With the countdown to midnight, you both get caught up in the moment and share an intimate moment with each other.

word count: 2.4k

author's note: i unironically had a dream about this the other night, so of course i had to share with the class, days earlier than planned. this takes place a year after deadpool & wolverine. enjoy! :>

find it on ao3 here

. . .

New Years was awfully unpredictable for you. Every year seemed to bring a different mix of highs and lows, leaving you wondering whether the holiday was even worth celebrating. This year, you didn’t even plan to—until Wade showed up with an invitation to his apartment against your will, promising the "social event of the decade." Against your better judgment, you agreed, dragging Logan along as your buffer for whatever insanity awaited. After all, how bad could it be?

It turned out, predictably, to be very bad.

The party was chaotic, as expected when Wade was involved. Streamers hung haphazardly from the ceiling, balloons were scattered across the floor, and someone had already popped open a bottle of champagne—two hours early. The stereo blasted a mix of '80s rock and whatever Wade had decided was "party music," which helped to create an unforgettable experience. And not in a good way.

Surrounding the room, couples were unable to keep their hands to themselves, unflatteringly in your direction. One group of friends were drunkenly laughing as they took selfies under a sagging strand of broken lights, while others swayed together to the mismatched beat of Wade’s horrendous playlist. You watched everything unfold, while Dogpool sat on your lap, constantly begging you for more cuddles.

Logan sat on the couch beside you, opening a bottle of beer, his expression a mix of irritation and mild amusement. He never wanted to come, but you’d convinced him. And of course, how could he say no? The promise of decent company and free booze was enough to get him to tag along. And though he wouldn't say it out loud, he also secretly loved spending time with you.

As Wade danced dramatically in the corner among the rest, Logan shot you a look that said, "This is your fault."

You laughed at his expression, your hands still on Dogpool as you nudged his arm. 

"Come on, admit it. You’re having a little fun."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Watching Wade do... whatever the hell that is? Sure, a riot."

"It’s interpretive dance," Wade called out, spinning in a circle before collapsing dramatically onto the floor. "I’m expressing the tragedy of running out of nachos."

Logan rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely there smile. You caught it and grinned.

“Come here, Mary Puppins! Daddy has a surprise for you!” Wade shouted, diving toward you and grabbing Dogpool out of your lap before you could protest.

You blinked, hands still frozen in mid-air. "What the hell, Wade? She’s comfortable!"

Wade cradled Dogpool dramatically, making kissy faces at her. "Oh, but I have something better," he said in a sing-song voice. "A little treat she’ll never forget."

Logan raised an eyebrow from where he sat, grasping onto his beer bottle while watching the scene unfold. "Oh boy.”

You sighed, already knowing this wouldn’t end well. "I swear, if you try to feed her something weird—"

"Don’t worry," Wade interrupted with a grin. “I made her something special, to dedicate my first year with Puppins here, of course.”

"Let me guess," you said, crossing your arms. "You’re feeding her leftover pizza crusts and ranch dressing?"

Wade’s face lit up. "Are you shitting me? I’ve got something way better than that!" With that, he dug into the pocket of his absurdly tight pants and pulled out a tiny, half-melted sandwich. You swore that you could see a tiny bit of mold in it.

 "Behold, a hot dog sandwich! You know, for dogs, because they deserve the best."

Logan stared at the sad creation in disbelief. "That’s just a hot dog in a bun. For you."

"Fuck no!" Wade grinned, holding the sandwich up like it was the Holy Grail. "This is an exclusive Dogpool meal—made with delicate care!"

Logan let out a low chuckle as Dogpool tried to squirm free from Wade’s arms, clearly more interested in anything but what her own owner had in store for her. 

You grinned at Logan. "It’s a shame. This could have been a bonding moment for the two of them.”

Wade, completely unfazed by Dogpool's lack of enthusiasm, tried to coax her into taking a bite, which ended up with him chasing her around the apartment.

 "Come on, sweetie! You can’t say no to this!”

"Guess Dogpool's smarter than all of us," Logan muttered, taking a swig of his beer as Wade continued his one-dog food fight.

You chuckled to yourself as you watched Wade flailing around the place, bumping into others without a care in the world. Logan’s lips curled into a small, satisfied smile, something that only appeared when he knew you were genuinely amused.

"Well, looks like I haven’t completely ruined your night," Logan remarked dryly, leaning back into the couch and taking another sip of his beer. His eyes stayed on you, still holding the faint smile on his face.

You nudged him gently with your elbow. "You’re enjoying this more than you thought you would."

His gaze flickered away for a moment before he gave a small nod, the corner of his mouth twitching again. "Maybe a little," he muttered, clearly not wanting to give you the satisfaction of admitting it outright.

. . . 

As the night rolled on, a few more guests trickled in, and the energy of the room continued ebbing and flowing. Wade was missing for a bit, which kept things steady for a while. Logan stayed close to you, content to observe rather than participate. You didn’t mind; his dry commentary on the festivities kept you entertained.

You checked your watch for a moment. It was 11:48 pm. Leaning back in your seat, your eyes drifted back to Logan, wanting to start a conversation amidst the awkward silence.

"So, what’s your resolution?" you asked him as the clock neared midnight.

Logan’s gaze flicked to you. "Don’t do resolutions."

"Why not?"

"What’s the point? People make ‘em and break ‘em in the same week."

"Not everyone," you said. "Some people actually stick to them."

"You?" he asked, tilting his head. "What’s yours?"

You went into thought for a moment. You? A new year's resolution? Every time you’ve attempted to stick with one, it always ended up blowing up in your face. If there was anything you wanted more than anything to succeed in, it would probably be to get with Logan. Of course, the concept of it was foreign, but you fell for him the minute you met him. You knew that under the circumstances of what the two of you have been through, there was no chance you could tell him how you felt, or know if he reciprocated the same way.

But maybe it was time to put that all behind. A new year was approaching after all.

There was a long pause before you responded.

 "To... take more risks, I guess."

Logan’s lips quirked. "Risks, huh? Like coming to a party with this crowd?"

"Sure," you said with a laugh. "Your turn."

He shook his head jokingly. “Same as you.”

Before you could press him further, Wade appeared, clapping his hands loudly. "Alright, people! Ten minutes to midnight! Time to get your New Year’s smooch plans in order. No shame in making deals, folks."

Everyone around the room had somebody close to them for the big countdown. It made you glance back at Logan. "You got a lucky someone?"

He gave you a look that made your stomach flip, but he said nothing. Instead, he took another sip of his beer, shaking his head.

A heavy sigh escaped you as you stood up, glancing around one last time. It seemed like nothing was going to change tonight. You made your way towards the kitchen, grabbing a drink to settle the quiet disappointment that had settled in your chest.

. . .

As the countdown began, the room filled with excitement. People paired off, others grabbed sparklers from a box Wade had inexplicably found, and you felt a small pang of awkwardness as you realized you didn’t have a plan for the midnight kiss. You hadn’t thought much of it; you’d figured it wasn’t a big deal.

"Ten!" Wade’s voice boomed over the music, causing the entire room to erupt into excitement. 

People cheered and clinked glasses as the countdown began in full force. You could hear the muffled echo of it coming from every direction, but your focus remained on the drink in your hand, the sudden unease gnawing at you.

"Nine!" Wade continued, getting even louder. You shifted uncomfortably, your eyes darting to the couples already pairing up, lips ready for the tradition. It was just a kiss, right? A simple tradition, nothing more. But why did it pang your heart this much?

"Eight!" 

The countdown sped on, the crowd growing louder, more energized. Your heart rate picked up in a way you couldn’t explain.

"Seven!"

 You turned your head, glancing over your shoulder to the bar, then to the group by the windows, still holding your drink. But your mind was far from the surroundings. You hadn’t planned for this, hadn’t thought much about it until now. The idea of a midnight kiss had always felt trivial before, but tonight it seemed to matter for some reason you couldn’t grasp.

"Six!" 

You looked around for something to distract you, anything to break the tension building in your chest. But as your gaze shifted around the room, you realized that Logan had somehow made his way closer to you, inching his way through the crowd, his quiet presence unnoticed by you as you remained lost in your own swirling thoughts.

"Five!" 

The countdown ticked on, but your awareness narrowed to just the space between you and Logan. You felt a presence beside you, and for a moment, you didn’t even realize it was him until you looked up—his steady, unreadable eyes meeting yours. The air felt different, and you couldn’t tell if it was just the alcohol or something else entirely.

"Four!" 

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver. You felt a flutter of nerves in your stomach, but there was a softness in his eyes that made everything else fade. The crowd continued to cheer, to count down, but all you could hear was the steady beat of your own heart, drowning out the noise.

"Three!" 

Logan's hand brushed against yours. Deliberate, yet gentle, and the contact sent a small spark racing up your arm. You couldn’t help but look at him, a question in your eyes. Was this... real? 

"Two!" 

Logan’s face was in front of you, his hand reaching up to your face, his touch warm and steady against your skin. You couldn’t breathe for a moment, your heart racing at a pace you hadn’t expected. His thumb gently brushed over your cheekbone, a tender gesture that only made everything feel more overwhelming.

The countdown faded into the background as his face inched closer. Your thoughts scrambled, but there was only one certainty you understood. The way Logan was looking at you, the way everything seemed to quiet around you. 

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t need to. For the first time that night, you felt grounded.

“One!”

The room erupted in cheers, but all you felt was Logan’s lips on yours. Warm, firm, and completely unexpected. The kiss was brief, but it lingered, a moment suspended in time.

 When you pulled back, his eyes searched yours, an expression of quiet uncertainty mingled with something more. His lips were slightly parted, as if he was trying to process the same rush of emotions you were. Neither of you spoke. You simply stood there, close enough to feel each other’s breath, the world around you seeming to slow down even further. His gaze softened, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips. But he didn’t say anything—not yet.

The noise of the room swirled back into focus, but it felt distant, like a muffled backdrop to what you both were experiencing in that exact moment. Logan’s hand was still resting against your cheek. Warm, like it had always belonged there.

"Didn’t think I’d be here, doing this," Logan muttered under his breath, his eyes still locked onto yours. There was something vulnerable in his voice, and it made your heart beat faster.

Before you could respond, he let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as though trying to dismiss the weight of the moment. "Wade’s probably gonna never let us live this down," he added, the ghost of a grin curling his lips.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. "You don’t have to worry about him. I’ll take the blame," you said, the tension between you easing slightly.

Logan looked at you, his gaze more serious now, though there was still a glimmer of playfulness in his eyes. "I’m not so sure I mind…”

There was a pause of silence, but neither of you moved.

“Guess this is what happens when I let you talk me into things,” he said, his voice teasing but warm.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head. “I’m not complaining.”

He gave you a half-shrug, a small, hesitant smile pulling at the corner of his lips. " I’ve been thinking about this. Longer than I should’ve."

A mixture of surprise and warmth flooded through you. You could feel your cheeks flush, but the sudden honesty in his words was enough to settle the fluttering nerves in your chest.

"I’ve been thinking about it too," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth coming out more easily than you'd expected. "Longer than I realized.”

His thumb gently traced the edge of your jaw, a gesture both comforting and intimate, as he let out a smirk.

"Guess we’ve been a little slow on the uptake, huh?"

“Let’s leave that for last year.”

You smiled, a soft, genuine thing, and his gaze softened in return. Neither of you needed to say more. You were here now, standing close, hearts open in a way they hadn’t been before. And maybe that was enough.

As the noise from the crowd picked up again, people shouting and celebrating the turn of the new year, Logan leaned in a little closer, his voice just for you.

 “Happy New Year,” he murmured.

"Happy New Year," you replied softly, a small smile tugging at your lips. The rest of the world seemed to fade away again, the cheers and music just background noise.

 And you were right where you needed to be.

[verstappenverse]

From P17 to You

Request by anon: “Could you maybe write something about the win in Brazil?? I'd love to se something like friend to lovers, maybe even Max confessing he's got feelings for her 🥰”

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: After a legendary drive through the rain in Brazil Max realises that some things are worth risking, and this time he’s ready to risk it all.

Author’s note: Been working to get this out before Vegas so hopefully you're all still riding that Brazil high! Hope you enjoy anon 🫶🏼

1.9k words / Masterlist

The thunderous roar of the crowd echoed around the paddock, the energy still electric. You could barely keep up with Max as he wove through the sea of people, his hair damp, sticking to his forehead, his fireproofs and suit clinging to him like a second skin. He looked invincible—untouchable, even. The entire race had been nothing short of miraculous, the kind of drive that people would tell stories about for years. No one could quite believe what had just unfolded at Interlagos.

It was a win that would go down in history as one of the most legendary drives Formula 1 had ever seen. Starting from P17 and managing a breathtaking, near-miraculous climb to P1 in rain that hadn’t let up once, silencing every critic in one afternoon. Max had won against all odds, and not just won—he had dominated.

You’d been there, every lap, every heart-stopping turn, watching from the pit wall with your fingers practically digging into the table. When he finally crossed the line, pulling a lead that had almost made you laugh in disbelief the paddock erupted. And so did you.

Max Verstappen was a force to be reckoned with. You’d known him long enough to see that. From his early days in karting, to the whirlwind of his rise through Formula 1, and through it all the two of you had been inseparable. You were more than just friends - you were each others constant in a world that never stayed still.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in your ears inside the motorhome. The team was in a frenzy of celebration, and you couldn’t wait to congratulate him. Finally, the doors swung open and Max appeared, drenched in champagne his eyes lighting up in that way that always seemed to make everything else fade into the background. He looked wild and alive, hair still wet and tousled, his suit clinging to him, adrenaline still pumping through him like an uncontained storm. His eyes caught yours almost instantly, softening from the adrenaline-fueled excitement to something more private, a kind of warmth he reserved just for you.

“There you are,” he said, his voice hoarse from exertion, he was laughing as he wiped his face. “Did you see that?” he asked, as if you might have somehow missed his generational drive.

“Max,” you said, breathless. “That was insane. You were incredible out there. I—I don’t even know what to say.”

He grinned, the same boyish grin you always loved. “I was just doing what I do best,” he teased.

In one swift movement, he pulled you into a tight hug. You could feel the dampness of his suit against your skin, but that wasn’t what made you shiver. You could feel his heartbeat thundering through his chest as he held you close, his hand lingering on the small of your back, and when he pulled back there was something in his eyes, a kind of restless energy that had you rooted to the spot.

You shove at his shoulder, “You’re unbelievable, Max. Do you have any idea how many heart attacks you gave me?”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “What can I say? I don’t like to lose.”

There's an energy between you that you can’t quite shake off, a tension that’s lingered for months, maybe longer. The air feels thick between you, and your heart races as you search for something, anything, to say that will defuse this tension. Before you can one of the Red Bull crew sweeps him up again, pulling him back towards the crowd.

You spend the next hour caught up in the celebration, in the noise, the laughter, the congratulations that echo around the garage. The afterparty spills over into one of the hotels, with everyone recounting Max's drive from their own perspectives. The energy is high, and the drinks are flowing freely. Max, for his part, looks like he’s on top of the world surrounded by friends, his smile relaxed, his energy magnetic.

But you can’t help but notice the way his gaze keeps flicking back to you, even as he laughs and talks with everyone else. Each time your eyes meet, there’s that pull, that spark that’s been simmering for what feels like forever.

Eventually he finds you, catching you by the arm and tugging you into a quieter corner of the party. The background noise dims and it’s just the two of you sitting together in the soft, golden glow of the dim light.

“Enjoying yourself?” you ask, a grin teasing at your lips as you tilt your head to look at him.

Max chuckles, his eyes crinkling in that familiar way you’ve always loved. “Trying too. My adrenaline’s still through the roof.”

“You deserve it,” you say, and there’s no teasing in your tone this time—just sincerity.

He glances at you, his grin softening. “It’s been a crazy day…but it’s not just about the win you know?”

You raise an eyebrow, caught off guard by the shift in his voice. “What do you mean?”

Max shrugs, his gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before he looks back at you. “I guess… I had something to prove today. To everyone. To myself.”

“Max…” You paused, unsure of where to go with that. “Today wasn’t about proving anything to anyone. You’ve already done that.”

“Yeah, maybe…but I- ” His voice was lower now, more serious, his gaze locked onto you. “I had to prove it to myself. And—” He hesitated, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he were deciding how much to say. “And maybe to you, too.”

The intensity of his gaze made your heart pound as if you were the one who’d just raced through that rain-soaked track.

“Max, you don’t have to prove anything to me. I hope you know that." Your voice came out softer than you intended. “You mean more to me than you probably realise.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and your heart twisted with vulnerability. “You’ve always been completely yourself, Max. That’s what makes you… you. That’s why people love you. Why I—why I’m so proud of you.”

He looked at you for a long moment, as if really trying to understand what you’d said. And then he took a deep breath, reaching out to brush his fingers against yours, tentative at first.

“You have no idea what it meant to me to see you there today. To know you were watching. That you’re always watching.”

“Of course, I’m always watching,” you say, swallowing hard. “You’re a lot more than just a driver Max. You’re… you’re my best friend.”

A flicker of something crossed his face, something you couldn’t quite read. “Best friend,” he echoed softly, as if tasting the words, considering them. There was a faint, bittersweet curve to his lips.

The quiet stretched between you, heavy with unsaid words. You were about to laugh it off, make a joke, say anything to fill the silence, but then he spoke again.

“I’ve never really thanked you for that. For everything.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. You know I’d do anything for you.”

Max’s lips curled into a half-smile. “Maybe. But sometimes…” His voice faltered, and he took a deep breath before continuing, “Sometimes I think I should have said something earlier. Said thank you in a way that actually meant something.”

You looked at him, your eyes meeting his. “What do you mean?”

His hand moved to your waist, his touch now bold, yet gentle. “I think I’m saying this all wrong.” He let out a small, nervous laugh, his thumb brushing the sliver of exposed skin at your waist. “I’ve been thinking about it all day. You know, after the race. And I couldn’t focus on anything else. Just you.”

He looked down at you. “I didn’t want to tell you before because I thought it might mess things up. But… I’m done waiting.” he said, his voice lower. “I’ve tried to say it a hundred times, but every time, I just… I couldn’t.”

“Max, are you—”

“Yeah,” he interrupts, his gaze intense. “I am. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but every time I thought I might, I… well, I was scared I’d lose you if it didn’t work out. But today, I thought if I can pull off something I thought was impossible, then maybe…maybe, I can tell you how I feel too.”

Max let out a low, almost frustrated laugh. “I think about you all the time, This—us. I’ve never felt like this with anyone else. It’s always been you. I know we’re friends, best friends, and I never wanted to ruin that. But I… I think about you all the time. I can’t help it. And today made me realise that I don’t want to keep waiting. You’re worth taking the risk. I want more. I want everything…with you.”

The world seems to tilt. You’re left speechless, his words tumbling over you, breaking down every carefully built defence you’ve put up. And it feels terrifying, this openness, this risk, but it feels exhilarating too, like stepping off a cliff and hoping someone will be there to catch you.

So you take a deep breath, steadying yourself as you reach for his hand. “Max… you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” you admitted, your voice raw.

He lets out a slow breath, his expression shifting to one of pure relief, a grin spreading across his face. “So we’ve been two idiots, both waiting for the other to say something?”

You laugh, and it feels freeing, like a weight lifting off your shoulders. “Yeah, two idiots. But now we’re here so… what are we going to do about it?”

Max’s smirks, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative, as if he is giving you one last chance to pull away. But you don't. Instead you lean into him, pouring every unspoken feeling, every hidden moment of longing into the kiss.

His hands are on you in an instant, gripping your waist, pulling you closer as his lips move against yours with an urgency that makes your head spin. Soft yet insistent, his hands framing your face. The kiss is slow and desperate, holding you like he can't bear to let go.

When you finally break apart, breathless and aching for more, Max leans his forehead against yours, his hands still resting on your waist.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he mutters, his voice hoarse.

The space between you is still charged. “You’ve been waiting for me, huh?” you tease, your hand moving to rest on his chest,

Max’s gaze drops back to your lips, his chest rising and falling with each breath, “You have no idea.”

His hand slides up to your neck, pulling you in for another kiss. Your body feels like it's on fire as he kisses you harder

He pulls back again, just enough to look at you. “I can’t believe winning wasn’t even the best part of today,” he murmurs.

You laugh softly, running your fingers through his messy hair. “If you’re not careful Verstappen you’re going to make me fall in love with you.”

He smiles, that boyish, confident smile that always managed to knock the wind out of you. “Good. Because I’ve been in love with you for a long time.”

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Serving Up Some Chemistry | OP81

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: A quirky YouTube host invites rising stars Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri for a BBQ episode in honor of the Austin GP. Amidst hilarious banter and messy sauce spills, she and Oscar discover an unexpectedly adorable connection.

OSCAR PIASTRI MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Surprise! 🚨 In honour of the Austin GP, we’ve got a special episode coming your way featuring none other than Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri! 🤠🍖

We’ll be trying some Texas BBQ and answering your questions—so drop them below! 👇 Let’s see if Oscar can handle the heat and if Lando can manage not to spill sauce on everything. 😆

Comments:

landonorris:

Can’t wait! Hoping I won’t embarrass myself too much. 😅

oscarpiastri:

Super excited for this! BBQ and questions? Sounds like a great time!

user1:

This is going to be epic! Can’t wait to see Lando and Oscar together!

user2:

OMG, the BBQ challenge is going to be hilarious! 😂

user3:

I’m ready for all the chaos that’s about to unfold!

user4:

Y/N, you’re going to have the best time! Can’t wait for this episode!

user5:

Excited to see how Oscar handles the heat! He better be ready!

user6:

Lando’s going to spill sauce everywhere, I can feel it! 😂

user7:

This is the best surprise ever! Bring on the BBQ!

user8:

The chemistry is going to be so fun to watch!

user9:

I just know this is going to be a classic episode!

Instagram Post by yourusername:

The episode is finally OUT! 🎉 Had the best time with landonorris and oscarpiastri—thank you both for being such great sports and handling the BBQ challenge like pros! 🤠🍖

Hope you all enjoy watching it as much as we enjoyed making it! Check it out on the channel now. 🙌

Comments:

oscarpiastri:

Had a great time! Thanks for having us, I’ll definitely be ready for round two. Maybe with less BBQ sauce next time? 😅

landonorris:

It was a blast! I’m still recovering from the sauce overload, but we’ll be back for sure! I’ll even bring an extra shirt 😂

user10:

They need to come back! That was the best thing I’ve ever watched!

user11:

The way Oscar was smiling the whole time—he’s definitely down for round two!

user12:

Lando being the messiest eater while Oscar just tries to survive? ICONIC.

user13:

The episode was pure gold! You three had the best energy!

user14:

Lando’s laugh is contagious! I was cracking up the whole time! 😂

user15:

Oscar was a whole mood trying to keep it together while eating BBQ! I need more of this trio ASAP!

user16:

The chaos, the laughs, the flirting—it was EVERYTHING! 😍

user17:

OMG, Oscar looked like he was about to faint when he first saw yourusername! He was so smitten. 😍

user18:

I can’t with how Oscar turned bright red when yourusername wiped the BBQ sauce off his chin! That was the cutest moment ever! 

user19:

Lando’s commentary had me in stitches! “Oscar, try not to drown in her eyes while you eat!” 😂

user20:

Their chemistry was insane! Every awkward pause just made it more adorable. I can't stop replaying it in my head!

user21:

“Can I get a little help with this sauce?” — Oscar was serving vulnerable and I am HERE for it! So smooth, Oscar! 😏

user22:

Lando saying, “Don’t get lost in her eyes while you’re eating, or I’ll have to save you,” was the best! He’s such a mess! 😂

user23:

The way Oscar shyly laughed at yourusername’s comments made my heart do flips! Can they just date already?

user24:

Their little glances and smiles were everything! I felt like I was watching a cute love story unfold right in front of me!

user25:

When yourusername asked, “Do you usually bring this much heat to a BBQ?” I was like, “Okay, that was smooth!” Oscar was totally flustered!

user26:

Honestly, the way they interacted was pure magic. They could literally sell me anything with that energy!

user27:

Lando is just a whole mood, trying to get Oscar to spill his secrets while keeping it light and funny! This was chaotic perfection!

user28:

I’m still thinking about how cute they were. Oscar’s shy reactions paired with yourusername’s playful teasing were too much to handle!

user29:

This episode was everything! I can’t stop thinking about how sweet their interactions were. I need more!

user30:

Their little glances and soft smiles were everything. Oscar’s flustered reactions were so endearing. ❤️

user31:

I can’t believe how much fun that was to watch! Lando being a mess and Oscar being adorable? What a combo!

user32:

I need behind-the-scenes footage ASAP! Their interactions were too cute to miss!

user33:

This episode was a masterpiece. Their dynamic felt so genuine. I need more content of Oscar and yourusername together!

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Race day vibes! 🏎️💨 Thrilled to be at the Austin Grand Prix and feel the energy in the air! Can’t wait to see Lando and Oscar out on the track today! Let’s go, papaya boys! 🍊🏁

Comments:

landonorris:

Let’s go! Can’t wait to see you there! 🏁

oscarpiastri:

Excited to have you cheering us on! Let’s make it a day to remember! 😄

user34:

Okay, but wearing his number and posing in his car? Is this a thing now?

user35:

I’m not saying you’re dating, but I’m not NOT saying it either! The signs are all there!

user36:

She’s literally living the dream! Can we talk about how adorable they’d be together?

user37:

Her rocking the 81 cap is giving major “I’m totally rooting for my crush” energy!

user38:

They better have some cute moments on the track today! I need content!

user39:

If she doesn’t end up dating Oscar after this, I’m going to be seriously disappointed. 😩

user40:

I see the chemistry, and I’m here for it! Can we get some couple content, please?

user41:

I bet Oscar’s heart is racing just as fast as the cars right now!

user42:

Can we please get some updates on this? I’m invested!

user43:

If they don’t end up together after this GP, I’m throwing a fit! The chemistry is undeniable!

user44:

I’m shipping them so hard right now! Someone make it happen!

user45:

All I’m saying is if I was in her position, I’d definitely be flirting with Oscar!

user46:

Wait, is she wearing Oscar’s number? 🤔👀 Something’s brewing here!

user4:

If they don’t end up together after this, I’m throwing hands! They’re practically destined to be!

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Nothing going on, just a shit ton of editing! 🎬✨ Can’t wait for you all to see the latest episode—it’s a tell-all with some juicy insights you won’t want to miss! Stay tuned! 🙌

Comments:

landonorris:

Oscar’s been whining about the new episode for days now. 😂 You’d think it’s his favorite show!

 ↪oscarpiastri:

I wasn’t whining! I was… politely asking. 😅

 ↪yourusername:

Oh really? I had no idea you were such a fan. I’ll try to make this episode extra special for you. 😉

 ↪oscarpiastri:

I already know it’ll be perfect, especially with your editing skills. 😄

 ↪charles_leclerc:

Oscar, you seem a little too excited about this episode. 😏

 ↪georgerussell63:

He's definitely excited. I’ve never seen someone so eager for an episode! 😂

user48:

Their banter is so cute! I can’t get over how sweet they are! 🥹💕

user49:

Oscar acting all shy is everything! They definitely have something special!

user50:

The way Y/n teases him? Major couple vibes! 😍

user51:

Lando just casually exposing Oscar's crush on Y/n is iconic!

user52:

I’m here for all the fluffy interactions! They need to get together already!

user53:

I can’t be the only one who sees the heart eyes Oscar has for her, right?

user54:

Oscar trying to play it cool but failing is the cutest thing ever!

user55:

The way Oscar and Y/n interact is giving me life! They are too cute! 😍

user56:

Oscar whining for the episode?? Yeah, they’re definitely crushing on each other.

user57:

The subtle flirting though?? I am obsessed. 🥺

user58:

They’re adorable! This is what I live for! Oscar is so soft when it comes to her! 💖

user59:

If they’re not dating after this, I’m going to be devastated. The chemistry is unreal!

user60:

Oscar’s got heart eyes for her, 100%! I’m here for the rom-com energy! 🍿

Instagram Post by oscarpiastri:

Not exactly the result we wanted today, but the team worked hard and I’m proud of the effort we put in. We’ll come back stronger next race. 💪 Thanks for all the support as always! Onwards and upwards. ✌️

Comments:

user61:

Oscar really thought he could sneak in that last photo like we wouldn’t notice… boy, we SEE you! 👀

user62:

Hold up. That last picture. Who’s holding your hand, sir? We need answers. 😳

user63:

Forget the race, who’s the mystery girl?! Man’s out here soft-launching a whole relationship!

user64:

Oscar: “We’ll get 'em next race!”

Also Oscar: casually holding hands with someone and trying to act like it’s no big deal. 🧐

user65:

You really thought we wouldn’t zoom in on that third photo? The fandom is about to explode!

user66:

Me pretending to care about race results while I’m over here like 👁️👄👁️ over that hand-holding pic.

user67:

Okay, but real talk… is that Y/n? Because I’m about to lose it if it is!

user68:

Oscar: "Tough race."

Everyone: "YEAH BUT WHO’S THE GIRL?"

user69:

Man, not you sneaking in a whole mystery date at the end. My detective skills are about to activate. 🔍

user70:

Is this Oscar’s way of lowkey announcing a relationship, or are we all collectively losing our minds?

user71:

Bro, you can’t just drop this and walk away like we’re not going to dissect every pixel of that picture. 😂

user72:

If that’s Y/n holding his hand, I’m officially shipping this HARD. 😍

user73:

Is that… Y/n?? Did Oscar just soft launch a relationship?? 😳

user74:

Me: focusing on the race results

Also me: WHO is he holding hands with?!

user75:

Nah, Oscar, you can't just sneak in a soft launch and think we wouldn’t notice! 😭

user76:

This race was cool and all, but let’s focus on what really matters. Oscar’s got a GIRL?!

user77:

Whoever is holding Oscar's hand, I hope she knows how lucky she is. But also... IS IT Y/N?! 🥺

Instagram Post by formula1gossip:

Spotted in the paddock! 👀 Looks like Oscar Piastri and YouTuber/host yourusername are more than just friends—caught sharing a kiss! 💋 Could this be the F1 romance we didn’t see coming? Fans, what are your thoughts? Is this the grid's new power couple? 🔥

Comments:

user78:

OH MY GOD I WASN’T READY FOR THIS TODAY!! 😱😍

user79:

STOP. OSCAR AND Y/N ARE ACTUALLY A THING?!? THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! 🚨🚨🚨

user80:

I knew it! I KNEW IT. The way he’s been looking at her in every interview was a dead giveaway. 🥲

user81:

This is so cute but also low-key creepy? Like, let them have their privacy. 😬

user82:

Nah, this was not on my 2024 F1 Bingo card but I’m HERE for it!! Oscar really said, “plot twist.” 🥵

user83:

Forget the race drama, THIS is what we’re all here for. 😂

user84:

I don’t know if I should be happy for them or freak out that the internet is creeping on their private moment. 😳

user85:

Okay but... am I the only one who feels kinda bad for them? Let them live! 😕

user86:

Man really went from “awkwardly flirting” to “straight-up kissing in the paddock.” Piastri’s got game! 💀

user87:

I need to know WHO took this picture because they deserve a raise for breaking the internet. 😭

user88:

Wait, Oscar really went from sneaky hand-holding to THIS?! Boy moves fast! 🤯

user89:

Okay, but if this is real, Oscar and Y/n are the cutest thing to happen to F1 since... well, ever. 😍

user90:

I’m dying at the fact that Oscar was so shy and now he’s out here making public moves. My heart can’t take it!! 🥺

user91:

This is cute and all, but also kinda invasive? Give them some space, people! 😕

user92:

How do I go from “aww, so cute” to “this is kind of a privacy issue” in one second? 😅

user93:

The way Oscar went from 0 to 100 real quick. Y/n must’ve unlocked his final form or something. 😏

user94:

Did we just collectively witness a romcom happening in real life? Oscar and Y/n, you have my full support. 🙌

user95:

Half of me is SCREAMING, and the other half is like, "y’all, this is kinda creepy… let them live in peace!”

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Well... cat’s officially out of the bag. 🐱💫

Comments:

landonorris:

FINALLY!! I’ve been keeping this secret for so long, I deserve an award for acting like it’s not disgustingly adorable every single day. 😩

 ↪yourusername:

Aww, poor Lando. We’ll get you a medal. Maybe one for “Best Third Wheel” too? 🥇😏

 ↪oscarpiastri:

Best third wheel and also the loudest complainer. You’ll be fine, mate. 😂

 ↪landonorris:

I WILL NEVER BE FINE. 😤

user96:

WAIT. DID HE JUST GIVE HER A FOREHEAD KISS?! I’m dead. 🥲

user97:

Oscar, can you fight?! Because Y/n is everyone’s crush now and you’ve got competition, buddy! 😤

user98:

Oscar is living the romcom life we all deserve. We need a movie adaptation of this STAT. 🎬

user99:

This was not on my 2024 bingo card but I’m HERE FOR IT. Y’all are too cute!! 🥹

user100:

Okay but… where’s the wedding invite? I need to start shopping. 💀

user101:

Oscar, how does it feel being THE luckiest guy in the paddock? 🧐 Asking for a friend.

user102:

Not gonna lie, I’m obsessed with this. Y’all are literally relationship goals. 🥰

user103:

Oscar out here being all shy and adorable while soft-launching the cutest relationship of the year. We’re NOT worthy. 😩

user104:

I swear if Oscar ever messes this up, the entire fandom is ready to throw hands. WE GOT YOU, Y/N! 👊

user105:

They’re that couple. You know, the ones who are so cute you can’t even be mad about it. 💕

user106:

If this was a movie, the soundtrack would just be us screaming "I ship it" on repeat. 🎶

user107:

Lando’s the third wheel and we love it.

user108:

Oscar and Y/n hard-launching their love while Lando cries in the background... the content we never knew we needed. 😭💀

oscarpiastri:

Couldn’t be happier to share this with you. 💛

 ↪yourusername:

Same. I love you, Oscar. 💫

 ↪oscarpiastri:

I love you too, always. 💛

 ↪user109:

Did they just say “I love you” in the comments?!? I’m unwell, this is TOO CUTE. 😭💖

 ↪user110:

Oscar dropping “I love you” casually like we’re not all DYING right now. 💀

 ↪user111:

Every time I see them interact, I lose more faith in my ability to ever find love this cute. 😩

 ↪user112:

Oscar and Y/n: existing

Us: screaming, sobbing, throwing up, planning the wedding. 🥳

[crypticminx]

lowkey need subby Nate being embarrassed but he can’t help it

LOVE SEEING THIS MAN FALL TO HIS KNEES- here you go my darling enjoy!! Smutttt ahead xoxo

𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩 𐙚₊˚⊹ᡣ𐭩

It’s nate who can’t believe you’re the one who’s made him utterly head over heels for you. It’s a burning sensation, the one you provide him, and he’s unable to shift away from it. He desires you more than anything, he’s devoted to you and hell, he’d do absolutely anything for you, even if it costs the very preserved man to feel embarrassed—something he wasn’t used to feeling, especially from a girl like you.

When the two of you are intimate, he’s begging for you to let him have a taste, the sight of your naked body on display for him is like art, the beauty of your busty breasts and your wet little pussy sprawled in front of him like it’s nothing, makes him feel so drawn with hunger for you.

You act like you’re not interested in him, like he’s a second fucking choice from a long list of unworthy boys you can pick from and it drives him insane.

“Fuck,” he groans, the feeling of his dick growing hard with pressure makes him crack. He’s weak for you and needs to have you, but you’re not letting him get you that easy.

You’re the one in charge, you give him demanding orders, stating very carefully that if he wants to have you—if he wants to savour you with all his might, he’s gonna have to work for it.

“Play with yourself,�� your soft voices purrs, your eyes growing wide with pleasure seeing the man stunned that he can’t wither his way into you as hes done many times with various girls.

He’s flustered, he can feel his throat grow thick and he tries to hide away the radiating stains of red on his cheeks, but it’s no good. He stammers with his words, trying to reason why he can’t just fuck you right then and there.

But it’s hot.

You’re so damn hot, he doesn’t even dare to question it.

As you tilt your head as you lay across his bed, watching the scene in front of you unfold, you know you have full control over him.

He pulls down his pants, you’ve seen that his dick is already twitching to puncture your insides. He spits on his hand, he knows you like it when he does unruly things like that. And slowly but surely, his damp palm strokes his cock up and down. Thick strokes make his dark doe eyes feel hazy with lust.

His motions turn rapid once he sees you begin to touch your breasts, the slight bounce of your boobs as your hard nipples peak through your fingers make him wish he could wrap his tongue around them. Sucking them until you beg him to stop. However, that wasn’t going to happen.

“Y/n,” it sounds like a whimper—a desperate plea, he’s so close to cuming but he doesn’t want to do it until he can be in you and so once you’ve had enough of watching Nate jerk himself off, you allow him to join you on the bed.

His large frame towers over you and just as he’s about to settle his position of being on top, you stop him.

“No no no, Nate,” you grin wide with a sinful smile, “I’m on top, baby.”

He chuckles, his forehead is sweaty and he can feel tiny bits of precum exit himself, but he can’t afford to let a single drop go to waste.

You push him down as he falls with grace into the scattered pillows behind him, holding your body as you sit with ease on his cock. Your warm lips glide on his throbbing cock, easily making the two of you wet as he finally can let himself go.

You stir back and forth, aggressively riding him as you let out an angelic moan. His tight grip of your arms let go and you place your hands on his chest, furthering yourself deeper until he hits the right spot.

He wants to cum so bad, he’s dying for it, but he’s not going to do so until he hears his girl let him.

“Baby,” he begs again, such a strong man whining for your command makes you feel even more wet. The pressure in the air feels lust worthy and you arch your head beg as you clutch your hands with his, interlocking deeply as you can feel the eagerness of his cock ready to pulse.

He’s amazed that the two of you aren’t using protection, he’d always been so careful before. You liked to take risks and so did he.

“Fuck, I can’t-“ he groans, watching your eyes slowly roll back, your hair messily flowing as you bounce on him.

“Cum in me,” you finally let him and your wish is his command.

He happily releases himself as he’s got you overstimulated. He loves watch you get lost in the moment that’s making sweet love to you.

After all, there wasn’t anything he loved more than you.

[headlines-headlines]

REST & RECOVERY.

𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐱 𝐟! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫.

★ 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲! You were almost too used to seeing Tanjiro in a battered state, suppressing your feelings every time the slayer was sent on a mission. Enduring constant sleepless nights, praying he'd make it back in one piece. Just how oblivious was he to your aching heart? Is there a way Tanjiro could ever make it up to you?

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬! female bodied reader, very slightly tsun reader (i can’t help itt), smut (dur), recovering tanjiro, sneaky sex, lovemakinggg, piningggg, slight angst, pet name use, raw sex. All characters are of the appropriate age in this work.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.5k (why am I allergic to writing short fics...)

𝐚/𝐧: call me butter cuz i'm on a rollllll. lol, tried adding more feelings to this one, sooo enjoy!! ;) (divider: @cafekitsune)

Kneeling on the cool wooden walkway outside the Butterfly Mansion, your hands scrubbed at the stubborn stains that clung to soaking garments. You let your thoughts pass peacefully, slipping into a tranquil daze as you focused on the task at hand, dutifully completing your chores whilst the other attendants worked within the Mansion.

It was another quiet, sunny afternoon, with the sounds of cooking, cleaning, and light chatter echoing around the estate. Views of the lush greenery in the courtyard welcomed a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the bickering and yelling that normally surrounded you when your slayer friends were all under the same roof. The lively trio you knew and loved were away on another mission, their longest one yet, and the uncertainty of their well-being lightly tugged at your heartstrings— a sensation you were no stranger to at this point. Each mission was riskier than the last, the boys sporting insane injuries upon their return, nearly fatal each time. Especially Tanjiro, his protective and righteous nature always causing him to suffer the brunt of whatever attacks were thrown towards his teammates.

You quickly shook your head, clearing your mind of the incoming gruesome images, and just decided to enjoy the temporary quiet in the meantime, knowing they would soon return. Hopefully safe and sound. Although, deep down, you knew the chances of a bloody aftermath were too high to ignore.

The soft sounds of splashing water and foaming soap filled your ears, slowly drawing you back into the present, until you could sense a commotion drawing near.

A panicked, frenzy of clashing voices grabbed your attention, sending you scrambling to your feet, almost knocking over the bucket full of laundry and water. It seemed as if a small mob was forming just behind the other side of the gate, forcing the kakushi from inside the manor to hurriedly rush past you and towards the source of all the racket. You were hearing buzzwords like 'medic!', 'help!', 'quickly!', being shouted full of urgency and alarm.

'What on earth was happening??' You thought to yourself, stunned as you watched the fearsome scene unfold before your eyes. The gates were flung open, numerous kakushi shouldering the weight of badly injured swordsmen, bringing them into the estate.

Your stomach sunk, seeing your friends' faces scrunched up in agony, expressions of pain and exhaustion written all over them. Your eyes landed on a familiar redhead, with his sister's arms wrapped around his midsection, guiding his battered body towards the mansion with the help of other kakushi.

'Tanjiro!' You screamed internally, a hand raised to cover your mouth, which hung open in shock. Your heart almost leapt out of your chest at the sight of him. He was definitely alive, but it seemed as if the beatings he had received had left him on right on death's doorstep. To your horror, the other two of the trio, Zenitsu and Inosuke, looked equally wounded. Dried and smeared blood, deep scratches, broken bones, darkening bruises, it was all too much to witness. You could never get used to seeing them like this, it was so frightening each time.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you flew off the walkway, rushing towards the swordsmen. Your sandals hit the ground as you ran, kicking up dirt in its wake. A barely conscious Tanjiro lifted his head ever so slightly to watch as your figure approached him, cracking a pained smile at the sight of you.

His vision was blurry as ever, but it was hard to ignore the aura of worry and panic that surrounded you, his dear friend. He hated having to return to you in such a state, however he knew this result came with the territory of being a demon slayer.

"[F/n]..., I'm back," his hoarse, broken voice greeted you. "We did it." Those few words, full of grief-stricken triumph, were the most he could muster as he started to slip in and out of consciousness.

"Tanjiro! Oh Gods...," jumbled speech tumbled past your lips. Your hands immediately came up to touch him, but stopped short of his torn jacket, afraid to make contact. You glanced at Nezuko, her sorrowful eyes meeting your own. You took a moment to look at the rest of her. Although her injuries were nearly healed, you could see the remnants of a fierce battle in the state of her clothing. A bloodied, ruined yukata, disheveled hair, and light scratches slowly dissolving into her skin. Tears pricked at your eyes, welling up and blurring your vision. But you held them back, assuming the position of the kakushi at Tanjiro's side, shouldering his weight and trudging towards the infirmary together.

⭒ ⭒ ⭒

The past few weeks were trying, filled with suturing, bandaging, and administering healing balms to the injured boys, making sure they were on the path to a full recovery. As a non-combative slayer in the Butterfly Mansion, your role was mostly dedicated to research and drug experimentation alongside the insect Hashira Shinobu. However, in cases like these, medical aid was another duty you were expected to carry out, luckily for you, it was one of your strong suits.

There was almost no end to the bloodied sheets and tools, but alas, you knew you needed to be the one to do the job. But to the boys' dismay, after providing them with their much needed medical care, you would swiftly exit as quickly as you entered. You no longer lingered around to chat, becoming less and less fond of being faced with evidence of their impending ruin. Graphic imagery was not something you could easily stomach, despite all your experience, and the jarring feeling of knowing your loved ones may one day be ripped away from you—again, hardened your heart into stone.

Your growing distance did not go unnoticed, especially not by Tanjiro. He started to pick up on your curt responses whenever you were around long enough to talk. Not even humoring the bickering sessions that Zenitsu or Inosuke would engage in, like you usually would. Now avoiding his eyes, a notable difference compared to the times you would gaze at him with such tenderness. His warmth seemed to hit a wall with you, unable to reach. It deeply saddened him, the thick scent of sorrow following you everywhere you went. He couldn't help but feel, guilty, hoping he wasn't burdening you with the traumatic aftermath of his battles. He was at a standstill, unable to figure out what he could do to make it up to you. He missed your affection more than you knew, and was going to earn it back. Some way, somehow.

Deep orange hues of a setting sun streamed in through the windows, illuminating the infirmary with a warm glow as the three men lay sleeping in their beds, quiet snores reverberating in the room. They had been healing quite well, gaining back their energy little by little, however, the strength of the medicinal teas and serums they were frequently ordered to ingest could easily knock out an adult horse.

"Thanks Aoi," you whispered, grabbing the pail of water and clean rags from your friend. Your voices were hushed as to not wake up the sleeping swordsmen.

"No problem. But let me know if you need any help, okay? You don't have to do this all by yourself y'know...," Aoi replied, a look of concern gracing her features.

"It's alright. Wouldn't be the first time," You laughed dryly, shooting her a half-hearted smile, as to not worry her any further.

"Okay, if you say so," she said softly, a bittersweet tone in her voice as she left you to work.

Turning to face your sleeping friends, you sighed as you quietly pulled up a chair next to their beds, rags and pail in hand. You started with Zenitsu, moving his blonde locks away from his forehead to run a cool, damp rag across his face, wiping away sweat and bringing down his temperature. You moved his blanket down to reach his neck, and any exposed skin around the chest area of his sleepwear, then folded the cloth into a neat rectangle to place above his brow. The same routine was repeated for Inosuke, moving his mask further away from his pillow to give you some space to work. Last was Tanjiro. Hesitantly, you approached his bed and sat in your chair next to him.

Solemnly, you watched how his chest rose and fell, a peaceful expression on his face as he slept, hinting nothing of the horrors he had seen not too long ago. His deep crimson hair framed his handsome features, luring you in to brush any wayward strands from his face. It would be an understatement to say you missed him while he was away. It was a little unfair to the other two, but Tanjiro's presence was special to you. His ability to ease your mind and comfort you so willingly whenever you needed him, drew the two of you closer. Whether it was engaging in playful banter, or sharing a long conversation to alleviate the stress of your day-to-day duties, you could always count on the redhead to brighten your day. It surprised you a little— just how quick he could coax you out of your reserved demeanor. A hand on your shoulder or a warm hug immediately melting your stern exterior. But you no longer allowed yourself to openly indulge, only yielding when you were alone or he was asleep, unable to question your behavior.

Bringing the dampened cloth to his face, you gingerly wiped his skin. Your touches were gentle, afraid to hurt him any further, as if he would break if you pressed hard enough. You admired his unwavering strength and resilience, but it never failed to leave a bitter taste in your mouth, knowing how much he had to endure. But without skipping a beat, he'd always come back to you, facing everyone with the same warm smile and firm optimism.

As you cleaned him, your mind wandered to your past conversations, eventually bringing you back to your most recent chat, occurring the night before he left.

★ ★ ★

It was pretty late, and Tanjiro happened to be awake, unable to sleep after much tossing and turning. Certain things had been weighing heavily on his mind, so he figured it would help to sit outside for a bit. Enjoying some fresh air and admiring the nighttime view of the estate would surely do him some good.

On the other hand, after working tirelessly for several hours on a new concoction in the butterfly lab, you decided to call it a night, making a few stops on the way back to your room. That's when you had found him outside, a scolding already waiting for him on the tip of your tongue.

But as sharp as ever, Tanjiro had already sensed your presence, turning to greet you.

"Oh! Hello [F/n]," He softly called out to you with a smile. "Couldn't sleep either?"

After seeing him in such a relaxed state, you bit back the fierce lecture you intended to give him, instead opting to park next to him with a sigh. He wasn't disturbing anyone, so you would just let him be for now.

"I was stuck in the lab all day. But unlike someone, I was actually heading to bed just now," you chided, giving a playful roll of your eyes.

He chuckled a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement at your faux attitude. He never took your sternness personally, knowing there was a sweet side of you hidden just beyond the surface.

"Well I'm glad you decided to join me, it's always nice to see you," he replied warmly, keeping his eyes locked with yours. You ignored the blush threatening to creep up your cheeks. It's like he knew exactly what to say to make you feel all flustered and clammy.

"Yeah yeah, It's nice seeing you too," you murmured, breaking his strong gaze to focus on something else, like the way his sleep shirt lightly billowed in the cool night air. "But seriously, why are you out here so late? You know lights out was a while ago, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he began, his tone taking a more somber turn. "If I'm being honest, ...I've been struggling to sleep for a while. After each mission, it's gotten harder to shake some of the things I've seen." His brow was furrowed in deep thought, and you could practically see the images flickering through his brain of past encounters with demons.

Your heart faltered a bit. You knew killing such unsightly creatures must've taken an enormous toll on him. His mental fortitude was unlike anything you’ve ever seen, however, his tattered body and soul after each mission couldn’t be ignored.

Scooting a little closer, you reached out and placed a light hand on his shoulder, in an effort to comfort him.

“I’m sorry to hear that Tanjiro… I wish you would’ve let me know sooner,” you said, patting his shoulder & looking back into his eyes with all the sincerity you could muster.

“I know I probably can’t help with the mental part of your missions, but it’s my job to make sure you recover physically too. And that includes sleeping properly. If there’s anything, and I mean anything you need from me, don’t hesitate to let me know… because I do… care about you and whatnot…” you stated, trailing off a little towards the end. However, you maintained an expression of deep concern and seriousness, hoping your words reached him. You wanted him to understand you would be there for him no matter what. Not just as another member of the corps, but as his friend.

Tanjiro’s eyes widened for a moment, mouth slightly agape from processing your words. But without skipping a beat, a look of genuine happiness washed over his face. His gentle smile returned, and his hand came up to softly pat the top of your head.

“I appreciate that, [F/n]. I’m glad to have a wonderful friend like you by my side,” He replied, gently smoothing your strands. He watched a look of relief brighten up your beautiful features. In truth, he held back the urge to state that he did need something from you. More than just your medical care and aid. He knew that deep down, he wanted a place in your heart. Even though the trials and tribulations of being a demon slayer often broke it. But he held his tongue, knowing he would be asking for too much. He could not guarantee you the love you deserved, much less his own life after each mission. But it was why he fought so hard each time, to protect the ones he loved. To protect you.

Meanwhile, you were tempted to swat his hands away from your scalp. But you had to admit, it felt pretty nice. You secretly relished in the moments where Tanjiro would dote on you, as an affectionate older brother would. Not that you would ever tell him such a thing.

“Of course. Anytime,” you replied.

You both sat there for a moment, gazes turning back to the pretty moonlight illuminating the courtyard. Not realizing how close the two of you had become. Physically.

Tanjiro’s arm had wrapped around your back in a side embrace, a hand cupping your right arm comfortably. You leaned on his chest, his shoulder supporting your head. You nestled more into the heat of his body, soothed by the light drum of his heartbeat. And you both stayed like that for a while. Not speaking, simply enjoying each other’s company.

It didn’t occur that you should be leaving, until your eyes snapped open, the muted hues from the approaching sunrise invading your vision.

Did you doze off? Goodness, for how long?? You could feel Tanjiro’s cheek & chin basically forming an imprint atop your head from the weight of his body. His arms totally enveloped your figure in a bear-hug embrace. Was he always this heavy? Or was it because he was so… close?

At least he smelled good. Really good too. Smoky undertones, with notes of light wisteria emanated from him and clung to his night shirt. And just when did you wrap your arms around his waist, cuddling him so tightly? It was certainly too late— er, rather too early to be out here. You both should’ve been on your way to bed by now.

Hastily unwrapping your body from his grasp, you happened to wake up the also snoozing Tanjiro, who reluctantly came to after feeling the loss of your body heat. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he noticed your frazzled state.

“Mmh… [F/n]? What’re you—“

“Uh— I should go.” You blurted out, face exploding with heat at the realization of you spending most of the night with him. A little disoriented, you quickly rose to your feet, smoothed a hand over your clothes, and shot him a quick ‘goodbye!’ before speeding off in the direction of your room.

Tanjiro watched you leave, quite abruptly in fact, and couldn’t help but laugh softly to himself, the scent of embarrassment right on your tail.

★ ★ ★

You had just finished wiping down the three young men in the infirmary room, and was now in the process of gathering your things to leave, when the sound of rustling sheets caught your attention. You quickly glanced in the direction of the noise, only to be met with the familiar sleeping faces of the injured men.

A sigh of relief escaped you and you turned back around, continuing to place all used cloths into the bucket.

“[F/n]..?”

Tanjiro’s voice, laced with raspiness from his slumber, called out your name.

You chose not to engage, turning on your heel to leave, before he called out to you again.

“[F/n], wait— don’t leave. Please.” He pleaded softly, his voice dropping in volume. He just wanted a little more of your time. He regret that he couldn’t prolong your tender touch, aware that it was you who cared for him a few minutes ago.

Facing him, you could see the heavy disappointment pooling in his eyes, and consequently, averted yours. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer him, and instead, waited for him to speak.

He arose from his cot slowly, his feet meeting the cool wooden floor before he fully stood, lightly stretching his limbs with a yawn. His sleeping shirt was left atop his sheets, allowing you to see his broad chest and abdomen— peppered with long-faded bruises and scar tissue resembling the shape of slashes. His battle scars. His pajama pants hung loosely around his hips, encouraging your eyes to follow the path where his skin dipped underneath, the defined shape of a v protruding from—

‘What am I doing? I should wrap this up quick so I can go’

You dismissed any wayward thoughts crossing your mind, ignoring the creaking of the floorboards as he made his way over to you.

“[F/n]…”

Gods, he needed to stop saying your name like that. Softening his voice to damn near a whisper, trying to coax you out of your hiding place, as if you were a stray kitten.

You kept your eyes trained on the skin of his chest, which was a foot or two away from your face now.

“Are you… upset with me?” Tanjiro looked down to find you refusing to meet his eyes, reaching forward when a few strands of hair fell in front of your face as you looked down at your socks.

You paused for a moment, chewing your bottom lip, trying to gather your thoughts. He was standing so close, and you imagined how mortifying it would be if he saw your quickly reddening face. You almost didn’t register the swipe of his fingers tucking your hair behind your ear.

“No, Tanjiro. I just— I don’t think we should talk… well, not about this, not here…,” your thoughts came out jumbled, and you were suddenly having such a hard time speaking.

Without much of a response, the redhead took your hand in his, and started off in a random direction away from the infirmary, tugging you along with him.

“Woah—! Can you slow down?”

He didn’t answer. His grip was firm and unchanging, and you found yourself being yanked in the direction of a supply closet, to then be pulled inside with him.

In total darkness, there were sounds of a door clicking shut and some shuffling, before the cord to a lamp was pulled, illuminating the confined space.

You’ve only been in this closet maybe a handful of times? Just to quickly grab medical supplies, cleaning materials, and other miscellaneous items that lined the shelves on the wall— in instances where you couldn’t make it to the larger ones. You kept your trips short due to the the restricted amount of space in the room, which could probably only hold around 5-6 people (un)comfortably. Needless to say, the proximity between the two of you shrunk further than what it was in the infirmary.

“…Tanji—”

“Why have you been avoiding me, [F/n]?” Tanjiro placed both of his hands on your shoulders.

For a second, you thought he was going to rattle you back and forth like a snow globe. Or even gift you with one of his famous headbutts. However, he held a serious expression, eyes scanning your face for signs of an answer, any indication of what was brewing inside that head of yours. With his sense of smell, he could pick up on inklings of several emotions. Anger. Hurt. Sadness. Even guilt. As well as something else he couldn’t quite place a finger on, its depth was strange and confusing. 

You snapped your head up to meet him,  a look of incredulity as clear as day. There was no way he could be so clueless.

"Are you kidding me?" You hissed, narrowing your eyes at him. "Am I just supposed to sit by and watch you get killed?"

Tanjiro had to admit, he was a little taken aback. He was moreso expecting you to lash out about something he may have said or done, much less a fear of something so gruesome. You watched his shoulders fall a bit, concern now paintings features. Not waiting for a response, you continued.

"I'm not sure I can do this anymore... watching you all suffer like that… so often...," you struggled to finish, taking a step back. Your throat closed up each time you attempted to swallow the lump lodged in it. Several memories of the boys returning within an inch of their lives, flooded your mind. Burning tears welled up quickly, and you forcefully blinked them back. 

"I don't know how much more I can take...," your voice cracked. Hot, fat droplets began to roll down the curve of your cheeks, streaking your face with tears. 

You felt strong arms gently pulling you into his chest, and wrapping around your back. Your face was pressed to his warm skin, tears staining the area.

"Oh [F/n]... I'm so sorry... I didn't know." He consoled you while you quietly sniffled, trying to hold back the overwhelming emotions crashing over you in waves. His hands rubbed giant circles around your back, coming up to cradle your head. "I didn't know you were suffering so much, and all alone..."

"What would I do? If you never came back?...How am I supposed to move on?"  You hiccuped, your words muffled the way you hid your face so deeply, flushed with embarrassment.

"It's okay," He whispered into your hair, lightly rocking you from side to side. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I'm sorry I've made you worry so much, love." 

You pulled back a bit, craning your head up to examine his features. He gazed upon you with such heartfelt concern, that you had no other option but to let your hardened exterior melt away once more.

"You promise?" You repeated. One of his hands came up to swipe away drying tears with his thumb, holding your face in his palm. The other was placed at the small of your back.

"I promise."

Your eyes trailed from his burgundy orbs to his warm smile, and down to the taut chest with your now-dry tears displayed.

His thumb inched closer to your puffy lips, smoothing over your bottom lip, eyes trained on your little pout. Everything about you was undeniably beautiful. His heart soon became heavy. He couldn't believe he was the source of so much of your pain, and better yet, failed to notice your suffering. His pretty companion. Tanjiro intended to rectify the situation in any way he could.

The complicated scent his nose was picking up on earlier had grown tremendously, now a bit more recognizable. You were sexually frustrated in a way, with all these negative feelings suppressing any urge you had to express romance, affection, or anything similar. He would take care of that. He would take care of you.

"Can I make it up to you, [F/n]?" He breathed, his eyes low. It was more of a suggestion than a question, as he leaned in, taking note of the way your eyes had already fluttered closed, anticipating the touch of his lips.

"Ye— mmph!" Your reply was cut short with the soft collision of his lips on yours. You couldn't deny the way you wanted him, locking lips in a rhythmic fashion, and following his lead. The kiss was romantic, passionate, with feelings of warmth and desperation seeping through. His rough hands trailed down to grab the flesh of your ass, palming and squeezing it. You let soft, wanton moans slip past your mouth, and he swallowed them all, tongue now hotly wrestling with yours. 

His hand trailed back upwards to undo the knot in the back of your apron, pulling away to slip it off, then reattaching his lips to yours.

The apron lay discarded on the floor as you continued to lock lips with the redhead, pants and heated breaths now filling the small space.

Pulling away, Tanjiro admired the way you looked. So soft and sweet, he wanted to shower you in affection. He knew it wouldn't make up for the pain you've experienced, however he was determined to try. He placed a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek, hands caressing the sides of your face, then holding the first button of your jacket between his fingers.

"Can I?" The request came. He needed to know you were okay with this, and if you'd allow him to take care of you in any way he could.

"Yeah," you nodded, a little bashfully. You couldn't really look him in the eyes while he unbuttoned your uniform jacket, revealing the bindings you wore underneath, holding your breasts.

Tanjiro smiled softly, finding your slight embarrassment to be endearing.

"You know, every inch of you is beautiful," he began, as your eyes rose to meet his. "I'd like to prove it to you, if you'd let me."

Hands trailed up your waist, cupping your tits through the fabric, squeezing and slipping underneath to meet skin. He pulled you in more, with a hand returning to the small of your back, and the other pawing at your breast, finding the nipple and lightly tweaking it. Chaste, warm kisses trailed from your jawline down to your collarbone, and you felt yourself arching into him, melting under his touch. You allowed his hands to roam freely, slipping off your bindings, and holding your tits in place for his mouth to latch on.

The temperature in the closet soared, and you felt as if most of it was condensed within your body, the way Tanjiro's touches lit you on fire. You were struggling to keep quiet, even more so when you felt the rough pads of his fingers slip past the waistband of your skirt and panties, finding your clit.

"Oh... fuckkk," you drawled, feeling his fingers rubbing circles on your sensitive nub. His breath fanned your neck as he pressed his body to yours, fingers keeping a steady pace. Your hips had a mind of their own, bucking into his hand a few times, whines and gasps falling past your lips. Jolts of electrifying pleasure shot through you, and you could feel yourself coating his fingers with your slick the more he rubbed your pussy.

"Pleasepleaseplease..." you begged, rocking your hips more into his hand while he held you in place. You were almost there.

"That's it, keep going my love," Tanjiro doted on you, encouraging you to chase your high under him.

The tightness in the pit of your abdomen grew, your cunt spasming around him. You couldn't hold back much longer.

"C-cummingg, i'm cumminggg," you whined, eyes fluttering as you let the tension snap, creaming on his fingers.

Tanjiro felt you coming undone, rubbing your wetness around the opening of your entrance. He used the lubrication to push in a middle finger into your heat, feeling how you tightened around the intrusion.

"Good girl, you can give me another one right?" he praised you.

You groaned at the feeling of being stretched open with only a single finger, an orgasm softening the sensation. Curling it, his finger rubbed against your plush walls, soon being joined by another, then another, making it a tight fit. Your head lolled back, the sounds of your sopping wet cunt filling your ears. You lifted a leg around his hip, for easier access, as he steadily pumped in and out. His eyes were trained on you, watching your expression as you mindlessly ground into his hand more, still recovering from when you first came. You were already reaching your next peak rapidly, struggling to catch your breath.

"Hnghh... Again... it's gonna– i'm gonna-!" Your words melted into gibberish as you found yourself cumming again, quiet, broken cries of Tanjiro's name on your tongue.

He shuddered, feeling how you twitched underneath him. His cock was straining freely in his pants, pressed against against your hip. He wasn't wearing any undergarments to catch the weeping drops of precum you elicited from him.

Picking your head up, you gazed at him with a hazy look in your eyes, cheeks rosy with an afterglow. He wanted to picture you like this forever, a beauty nestled in his arms.

Hooking his thumb under his waistband, Tanjiro pushed down his night pants with ease, letting his member spring free. You glanced down to see his cock bobbing heavily, droplets slick on his tip. His hand reached to grab underneath your knee, holding your leg up to his hip for support.

"You think you can guide me in, my pretty girl?" He sighed, the length of his cock resting underneath your slightly ajar panties.

You bit your lip and nodded, reaching for him. Your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock, giving it a test stroke. You felt how hot it was, and how you couldn't fit it all in your hand, even if you tried. You imagined how it would feel inside you.

Tanjiro focused on keeping his composure, trying not to buck into your warm hand, but how could he? The girl of his dreams was stroking his dick, and all he wanted to do was let you keep going. But instead, Tanjiro reached underneath that uniform skirt, and pulled your panties to the side, letting you insert him in. His free hand returned to holding the plush of your ass.

Using his tip to gather some wetness, you rubbed his dick on your slit, then pressed the head into you. A shaky groan left his throat, Tanjiro's eyes locked on where he disappeared under your skirt. Fitting him inside was a team effort, as there was no way you could get him inside on your own, even as wet as you were.

The redhead used his pelvis to push inch after inch into your heat, cock twitching the deeper he sunk in. The slow stretch burned, and tears threatened to prick the corners of your eyes.

Tanjiro leaned forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, comforting you through the initial pain.

"You're doing so well, pretty girl, just a little more for me, okay?" He cooed, his breaths becoming labored at your temple.

You could only mewl in response, wrapping your arms around his neck, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting the sensation of his cock filling you up overtake you. He was impossibly deep, sliding against places you could never reach with just your fingers. Your pussy tightened around him further, bullying his still-weeping cock into wanting to cream your walls.

"S-so tight, g-gonna start moving now," Tanjiro gave a quick thrust, fully bottoming out, letting out a sultry moan at your ear. You were basically incoherent, his name a repeated mantra at your lips. He pulled his hips back, dragging his cock out, to then plunge back in, almost knocking the air out of you. His thrusts were hard and deep, passion embedded within each one. He ground his hips into yours, keeping a steady pace... he was going to savor this. He could feel his tip hitting a spongy surface, bumping at the entrance of your womb every so often, and directed his thrusts into that very spot.

Your stifled moans clashed and melded in the space, the two of you drowning in pleasure together. It felt as if no one in this world existed but the both of you in this very moment.

Tanjiro picked up the pace, leaning you back a little to reach further inside, as much as he could, the sound of skin-slapping and squelching in his ears. His deep grunts and sighs continued, each time he pounded into you.

" 's too muchh, I can'tt" you droned, feeling yet another coil twist aggressively in the pit of your belly, threatening to snap at any moment. Your standing leg grew tired, overexertion settling into your side.

"You're almost there, you can do it my love," Tanjiro whispered, intending on making you cream on his cock again, and again. Pounding into you a few more times, he felt the siren's call of your orgasm, your cunt tightening around him, then wildly spasming. You leaked all over him, soaking the front of his pants.

"Such a good girl for me, aren't you?" He mumbled, watching your mouth fall open, eyes roll upwards, and your body shuddering underneath him.

He fucked you through your orgasm, slowing the pace once you started to come to. He let his cock drag out of you, still painfully hard. He hadn't yet finished, his dick begging for release, but he ignored it just a little longer. Fortunately though, his stamina was excellent, one of the many pros of being an experienced swordsman.

Once your eyes met his, albeit with a fucked-out expression all over your face, Tanjiro gave you a request.

"Do you think you can jump up here?" He motioned carrying something with the hand not holding your spasming thigh. "I promise i'll catch you," he cracked an amused smile at your look of disbelief.

"O-oh okay, but I don't wanna hurt you," You hesitated. You were met with a simple shake of his head, and Tanjiro tapped the side of your thigh, signaling that he stood firm on his decision. You took a deep breath, tightening your arms around his neck, and leapt up, using the last of the strength in your trembling legs.

He caught you with ease, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly, and placing his hands under your ass, giving it a light squeeze.

"See? Nothing to worry about princess," he chuckled. A small whinny of protest left your throat as he reached back under your skirt to move your panties out the way. However, he wasn't careful and ended up tearing through the bottom of the underwear's fabric, with a quick ripping noise audible in the space.

Tanjiro's eyes widened, immediately meeting yours. The look of pure shock was actually a little funny, and you giggled when he sheepishly mumbled a 'sorry', placing his face in the crook of your neck.

A hand held your ass, and the other placed his cock back at your entrance, and you braced yourself for the brief stretch as he sunk you back down onto him. A strangled moan left you, and you clenched around him, letting yourself feel him drag your cunt up and down the length of his member.

Up and down, up and down, Tanjiro hands gripped the fat of your ass, bouncing you on his dick, returning to the quick pace he once had. You were leaking profusely, dripping from his dick to his balls, wetting the top of his pants even more.

Despite trying to keep it down, the sound of skin slapping echoed each time he slammed you down on his dick, the both of your hushed cries and broken grunts and moans filling the atmosphere.

Tanjiro finally felt himself nearing his peak, with your ass bouncing & clapping so well on him, sending him barreling towards his release.

"Fuck, I-I think i'm close," he groaned, his dick pulsing heavily inside you. You could feel how it throbbed harshly, bumping at your g-spot, bullying your poor cunt. She was about to come undone as well.

Tanjiro slammed your hips into his a few more times before lifting you up, shooting warm spurts of his seed all over your orgasming cunt. Quiet, breathy moans of your name fell from his lips over and over, burying it into your neck he as he rubbed his cock through your folds, smearing his seed across your cunt.

He held you for a couple more seconds, pressing slow open-mouthed kisses to your throat while coming down from his high. You sucked in deep breaths, feeling your body begin to relax after experiencing wave after wave of pleasure. You were definitely at your limit. But you couldn’t be more content, after making amends with the boy your heart yearned for.

Placing you down gently, Tanjiro made sure to keep a steady hand at your waist, guiding you.

“We should probably get ourselves cleaned up. Okay, my love?”

® 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐧𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦. 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, & 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 <𝟑

[choerypetal]

The Tattoo / Homelander

summary: Both Homelander and you had been searching for your soulmate for years. Then, when you began working at Vought, a mysterious tattoo appeared on your arm, one that matched Homelander's a little too perfectly.

request was from; @chocolate-floof hope you enjoy this short fic!

ps: english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar errors xx

Homelander had always been a man of tradition, whether in a romance or friendship settings. He never shied away from both showing the most predictable affections, to pleasing his country. Even when his mind always managed to disassociate from reality, he couldn’t deny the truth that unfolded beneath him, etched into his very flesh: the beginning of knowing your existence.

Meeting Homelander was daunting at first. Luckily, you managed to escape his attention when two Vought employees needed you to prepare Firecracker’s weekly news replacement. Yet, his soft smile and lingering gaze made him realize how magnificent you were to him.

Being a the traditional wife was not what he wanted, even if his values where far from different by the rest of the citizens, there was no surprise he wanted to cherish you differently. In fact, Homelander prided himself on his efficiency that he didn’t need a wife or nanny to subdue his cravings, especially with the opportunity of being with you. He needed someone whom he could be himself, and being the Homelander that he was, naturally his first reasons was for safety measures. And it was from the very first meeting at the Seven, that John’s thoughts were obviously focus in making you as his as fast as possible.

At first, Homelander didn’t think much about pleasing you. During the Vought meetings, he would casually brought you coffee, enough to make Deep and others gasp at this rare act of kindness. He didn’t hesitate to glare threateningly at anyone who dared to comment. You, oblivious to this, made it more delightful for John to watch over you.

The coffee ritual was one thing; sneaking into your office was another. Then came your perfume, the scent that enchanted him whenever you were in the same room. He would lean close while discussing matters with guests or politicians, praising your talent and major contributions to the Seven. His words often brought a light blush to your cheeks, a reaction he cherished.

One night, as you greeted everyone with delicate grace, Homelander saw you as a rare delicacy. His whispered compliment, “You look ravishing tonight,” near your ear, made your hair flinch and confirmed that you too had feelings for him, even if you were too shy to show them. This pleased Homelander immensely.

A few days later, Homelander noticed it as well—the mark on his arm that had appeared since the very first day you arrived. Despite this, he never believed in soulmates or love at first sight, especially for someone like him. Yet, it took enough courage for him to 'accidentally' bump into you one day, knowing you were busier this week. It meant a little more time for him to determine if he was going insane, but his doubts were replaced with confidence.

One day, during a rush, you stumbled into him, covered in sweat and breathless. His arms almost hovered over you as he chuckled, “My, my, Y/N. What’s the rush?” Brushing a few strands of hair from your face, he noticed your oversized blouse slipping down to reveal a tattoo in cursive, saying “Love.” He murmured the word to himself, meeting your gaze as your cheeks turned a bold shade of pink.

“Love…” he murmured again, then scoffed nonchalantly, pushing back his suit’s arm to reveal a matching tattoo that read “You.” “If we bring your arm to mine, I’d say the universe is telling us something.”

Indeed, the universe had brought you together. Though initially, you thought the tattoo was a drunken mistake, you realized its significance when you saw Homelander’s matching mark. He was your soulmate, and you were his. The mark on his wrist was no coincidence, and you both knew it.

Lost in thought, his voice caught you off guard, soft and captivating. As he approached, his shadow hovered over you, his thumb gently caressing your bottom lip as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze. His piercing, loving gaze conveyed everything without words. You nodded slightly, making him chuckle. “You are mine,” he said, his voice hoarser than before. Leaning in, he closed the gap between you, his lips brushing yours before he asked, “May I?” You nodded again, and his lips curved into a smile as he kissed you deeply. His hands cupped your face, and he growled softly, “So delectable,” before leaning in once more, barely leaving any space for air.

From that day on, the two of you became inseparable.

[ajaxbell]

Fangs of Fortune (Bai Ze Ling): perfect on pure aesthetics alone, but also it will tear your heart out while being very gay.

I was lured in to this show by Tumblr gifsets and friends on Bluesky talking about how queer and poly this show is. I'm old and I've been in fandom more than half my life. I know how to read queer subtext. I'm also pretty well versed in cdramas, so again, I know how to read subtext. So I went into this ready to, well, read the subtext.

But no this show is just puts the queer it right there in the text. The vague information we have about Chinese censorship repeatedly left me asking, 'wait how are they getting away with this?' Like some of these jokes and implications are just so blatant it seems incredible this show ever made it to being broadcast. It just feels very much like queer media made for queer people even if t's more subtle than something western like Queer as Folk.

Even without the heavy coloring of gay this show is incredible and so much more than I expected from the title and the promo. The premise is essentially the death of the goddess, who governed relations between humans and demons, leads to an influx of demons in the human world. This brings together the goddess's disciple, Wen Xiao--seeking to restore the goddess's power. WX's childhood sweetheart, Zhuo Yichen--seeking to restore the demon-hunting bureau after the powerful demon Zhu Yan killed his father and brother. It opens on Zhu Yan, in human disguise as as Zhao Yuanzhou, volunteering to help the imperial court restore the demon-hunting bureau to quell the chaos. They are joined by Pei Sijing, a retired female general from the rival demon hunting sect, and a very young doctor (and comic relief) named Bai Jiu. It starts off as a sort of monster-of-the-week with a grim Scooby gang doing detective work and fighting monsters. Each major demon has a mini arc that relates to the larger case (restoring the power of the goddess to balance the realms), and they are repeatedly blocked by either the demons or the rival demon hunting sect. Each mini arc also acts as a mirror or parallel story to slowly revealed backstory of all the main characters as well. In true cdrama fashion it's a mix of adventure, intense emotional drama, romance, and comedy. And queer and poly jokes and romance. It also has a kind of manga vibe in the way the comedy is woven into the more serious story, and in the fantastical depiction of the characters and how the story unfolds.

It is also just insanely beautiful. Every single shot is lovely. The costumes, make up, and hair are incredible. The casting director made all the major demons inhumanly beautiful. The sets are spectacular. The effects are nicely done. Every bit of has the vague surreality of a fairytale. The perfection of each shot ads to the manga vibe, as if we're seeing each critical storytelling panel come alive. There's recurring water-based special effects that are just gorgeous. Based on aesthetics alone this show would be worth watching to me. That it is combined with a complex, very emotional story is a spectacular gift to the watcher. A lot of the negative reviews of this complain about the staginess or that it's overly contrived in how each scene is shot. But I think it's gorgeous, works perfectly with the storytelling, and if we criticize art on whether it achieves the goal it intended then this show is doing exactly and perfectly what it means to do and doing it beautifully.

Additionally the acting is also very good, but Neo Hou is the stand out for sure. I enjoyed him in Back from the Brink, especially the later part of the story, but in Fangs of Fortune he's transformed, utterly embodying the role, the way Dylan Wang is Dongfang Qingcang in Love Between Fairy and Devil. Neo Hou has the right look, a slightly uncanny beauty perfect for a gorgeous immortal not of this world. The show does incredible things with his styling between the various looks and personas the role requires. But in acting he somehow manages to utterly transform his face and demeanor to manifest each aspect of the character as story demands changes from him.

There is a lot of crying in this drama. Like early on I joked that there was going to be a character crying a single perfect tear in every ep. Lol nope. Multiple single perfect tears per ep and many outright full on sobbing scenes. This show is just waiting to rip your heart out and you see it right from the beginning. But it was such sweet pain all the way through. Just a truly engaging and utterly wrenching set of intertwined stories.

My only criticism is that the pacing falls apart in the last 3 episodes. But overall the story is solid through the end, though like so many cdramas, it's saved by the epilogue.

You should absolutely watch it if you want the chaotic bi polycule (it's her, her girlfriend, her boyfriend, her boyfriend's boyfriend who is also her boyfriend, their two idiot sons, and her boyfriend's ex-who is also eventually sort of his boyfriend again), or if you want your heart torn out and stomped on. Or even if you just like really gorgeous cinematic things. Also if you watch, please don't skip the ending credits, as they change as the arcs change, and the radiant joy Tian Jiarui has as he dances is an excellent antidote to the emotions of each episode.

[loafysainz]

The Royal Party | LN 4

lando norris!polo athlete x readers!princess x nick leister

warn: smut 18+, jealousy, posessive

fc: pinterest

prev chap

The grand ballroom of the palace was a spectacle of luxury, glittering chandeliers casting a golden glow over the sea of aristocrats, celebrities, and athletes mingling in their finest attire. The annual royal gala was an event of the highest prestige, a gathering of the elite where appearances mattered more than reality.

Y/N knew she looked good. No, scratch that—she looked fucking divine. The dress was designed to make a statement: elegant with just enough allure to have heads turning. And turn they did.

Lando knew it, too.

From the moment she stepped into the ballroom, his eyes hadn’t left her. Seated at the far end of the grand hall, drink in hand, jaw tight—watching. Brooding. The sharp tuxedo he wore did little to hide the barely restrained fury simmering beneath the surface.

And the reason for that fury?

Nick fucking Leister.

The golden boy of the British aristocracy. Polished, charming, and, most annoyingly, the man everyone thought was Y/N’s perfect match. He was the kind of man you married—on paper, at least. Royal lineage, wealth, and an effortless charisma that had the entire ballroom swooning.

Including Y/N.

Or at least, that’s what it looked like.

Lando clenched his glass tighter, watching the way Nick leaned in, whispering something in her ear that made her laugh. The sight of her smiling at another man made his blood boil. He wanted to tear that fucking smile off Nick’s face, wanted to grab Y/N and remind her exactly who she belonged to.

Nick wasn’t stupid. He could feel Lando’s stare burning into him, but he didn’t care. In fact, he enjoyed it. With a smirk, he raised his glass in Lando’s direction—a taunt, a challenge.

Big fucking mistake.

Lando set his drink down and moved, weaving through the crowd with purpose. The chatter and music became white noise as he closed the distance between them.

Y/N noticed him too late. One second, she was smiling at Nick, and the next, a firm hand was wrapping around her wrist.

“Lando—”

He ignored her, his grip unyielding as he turned to Nick.

“Back off, man.” Lando said, voice deceptively calm.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.” Lando took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “Walk away. Now.”

Nick chuckled, shaking his head. “You don’t get to decide who she talks to.”

Lando smirked, but there was nothing amused about it. “I do, actually. She’s mine.”

Y/N inhaled sharply, feeling the tension radiating off him. People were starting to notice, eyes flickering toward the scene unfolding.

Nick scoffed. “That’s funny. Because from where I’m standing, she doesn’t look like she belongs to anyone.”

That did it.

Before anyone could react, Lando grabbed Nick by the collar, yanking him closer until they were nose to nose. His voice dropped and lethal.

“Listen to me, you privileged little shit,” Lando growled. “You’re not even in the same fucking league as me. So don’t fool yourself into thinking you have a chance.”

Nick’s smirk faltered just slightly. “You’re insane.”

Lando chuckled darkly. “No, I’m just not stupid enough to let someone else take what’s mine.”

Y/N’s heart pounded. This was getting out of hand. She stepped between them, pressing her hands against Lando’s chest, trying to create space. “Lando, stop,” she whispered.

Lando didn’t move, his jaw tightening, his eyes still locked on Nick like he was seconds away from throwing a punch.

Nick scoffed, adjusting his jacket. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave.”

Y/N exhaled, relieved.

“But we can continue this conversation tomorrow,” Nick added, eyes flicking back to her. “Right, Y/N?”

Lando stiffened. His entire body went rigid, his grip tightening around her waist possessively.

Y/N cursed silently. “Nick, just go.”

Nick smirked. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

Lando nearly lunged, but Y/N quickly placed a hand on his cheek, forcing him to look at her instead. “Lando,” she whispered, her voice soft, pleading. “Not here. Please.”

The room was watching. Murmurs spread through the crowd, eyes locked on them. Y/N subtly pressed a hand against Lando’s arm, signaling for him to leave first.

His eyes flickered between her and Nick before finally exhaling sharply. He leaned in, lips brushing against her ear. “You have five minutes,” he murmured darkly. “Then you find me.”

And with that, he turned and left.

The moment Y/N found him again, he didn’t waste time.

Lando pulled her into a darkened hallway, pressing her against the nearest wall. His hands were rough, desperate, tracing her curves like he needed to remind himself she was real, that she was his.

“You think it’s fucking funny?” he growled, his lips ghosting over her jaw. “Talking to him like that?”

Y/N gasped as his teeth grazed her neck, sucking just enough to leave a mark. “I was just trying to diffuse the situation—”

“Bullshit.” His fingers traced up her thigh, pushing her dress aside. “You like making me crazy, don’t you?”

Y/N gasped, her hands flying to grab his wrist, stopping him before he could go any further. “Lando, please,” she whispered, her voice desperate. “Don’t be crazy. This is a public place.”

Lando let out a low, humorless chuckle. “You think I give a fuck?” His eyes burned into hers, dark and unrelenting. “You fucking hurt me, Y/N.”

His grip tightened slightly, frustration rolling off him in waves. “You stand there, laughing with him, letting him think he has a chance. Like I’m nothing.”

“Lando—”

“No,” he snapped, his control slipping. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to fucking toy with me.”

Before she could respond, his lips crashed onto hers again, harder, rougher. A desperate, punishing kiss, full of anger and something deeper—something darker.

Neither of them noticed the faint click of a phone camera nearby.

Someone had been watching.

And this? This was about to become a scandal.

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 

Labor of Love - Part I

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: this shit has zero smut, angst angst angst, did i say angst?, this is so dramatic i'm sorry, expletives, a bit of fluff, pregnancy, cliff hanger, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 8k 

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: You are now entering angst town, please buckle your seatbelts and try to enjoy the ride. Jokes aside, GUYS. This chapter…is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written. I’m excited and nervous, and everything in between. There’s a lot going on in this chapter and I just hope to Eywa that I’ve written it in a way that flows and is easy to follow. I’ve had this idea brewing for months, it feels. Now…this shit was over 20,000 words long. That is a personal record and I will not be subjecting you guys to such a monstrosity. Therefore, this is part one of (at the moment) three. I apologise in advance for the cliffhanger, hehe. Also, welcome to my brain, because idk how I came up with this shit. 

Synopsis: You didn’t foresee this, Ralak kept you in the dark for the sake of you and your baby’s safety. But now the time has come, it’s all too overwhelming for you to process. 

<- Previous-> Next

Ralak never shared more than he needed to when it came to his duties with Tonowari. No matter how much you vowed to keep it confidential. He’s a man of few words, but when it came to his business he kept them fewer.

As much as you knew, his trips inland consisted of hunting and gathering bigger game that most warriors struggled to handle.

There's a few times you can count on one hand that he's come home a little more worn down. Each time you cursed Tonowari under your breath as you helped your mate unwind. You’d insist on knowing what the olo’eyktan had him doing to be so spent and why he had not entirely fulfilled his promise to lighten Ralak of his duties since the mating.

Ralak would be quick to shut you down in the most gentle way despite feeling irritable and sombre. It was always something along the lines of, ‘it keeps you safe, and that is my duty’, and that he’ll ‘discuss it when the time comes’.

It seems the time has come. 

Another gloomy night, rain and thunder tear through the sky. These storms are more frequent in this season, as it’s Ewyas way of keeping the balance with the freshwater and seawater ratio for the mangroves.

But tonight it’s torrential. You’re in full bloom, ready to step into your new chapter of motherhood at any moment. The babe sits low in your womb and you’re swollen from what feels like head to toe. The rain isn’t helping with the soreness in your joints. 

Ralak is seated next to the crackling firepit, stirring the bubbling stew with one hand and mindlessly rubbing your swollen ankles with the other. Meanwhile you lay snuggled in bed, wrapped comfortably in the thick shawl as you listen to the pitter-patter. It’s peaceful, despite the dull ache in your lower back. Maybe the rain isn’t so bad, after all. 

Ta-toom!

The low-pitched sound of the war horn has Ralak's full attention, shredding him of whatever serenity he had in his being. Moving hastily, he stands and darts over to the marui door, slipping into his gear and fixing his largest spear on his back.

The scene unfolding before your eyes is a rare one. You’d only seen him in full gear on the day you first laid eyes on him. The day you arrived here in Awa’atlu. And it brings a sinking feeling to your stomach.

“Ralak… what was that?” You ask nervously.

You watch him aggressively tighten the strap of his tstalsena [knife sheathe; carrier] and chuck a bucket of water in the fire—killing the flame. A precautionary measure. He knows the time has come. He hears your voice but he also hears Tonowari's...

'When the horn sounds… you come. And that…is an order.'

In his head, he’s going through an array of possible responses but there’s simply no time for any of them. Using the frame of the bed to pull yourself up, you slowly come to your feet and waddle towards him.

“Ralak. What is going on?” You ask a little louder, a hand gripping his wrist. 

Turning to face you, his hands fly to support your stomach as he looks you deeply in the eyes. Then he kisses you with purpose. Pressing his lips into yours like it would be the last time, forcing himself to pull away to briefly glance down at his unborn.

It catches you by surprise, leaving you looking up at him open mouthed. Now you’re really scared. It feels like he’s being plucked away from your fingers and there’s nothing you can do about it. “Ralak—”

“I will explain when I am back. All of it.” He already sounds out of breath, fixing the shawl over your shoulders. “You stay here. Stay warm. Do not leave. Do not answer to anyone. Understand?” 

Your forehead wrinkles as you try to process this all. 

Don’t answer to anyone? To whom? Why did he put out the fire? Why is he in full gear? What the fuck is going on right now? He said he’d be back…right?

“Y/n.” He booms your name, yet his tone remains steady and calm. “Understand?”

You nod hurriedly, “Yes. Yes.” 

“I will be back soon.” He fixes your shawl a last time before stepping back and bolting through the door.

You follow behind him, keeping the marui flap open to watch him click for his skimwing. He makes the bond and mounts the beast hastily, and is airborne soaring towards the mainland at full tilt. 

Befuddled, you waddle back inside, your back slamming into the marui stilt as you huff and puff to catch your breath. You nervously check the stew, and see that it’s almost done. The glowing charcoal should be enough to finish it off, so you opt to leave it covered and fidget with the prrsmung [baby carrier] you've weaving for the past couple days. 

Anything to keep you busy. 

——

Ralak effortlessly dismounts his tsurak, letting it glide past him in the water as he climbs up to the communal pod. This is a gathering place for important meetings and announcements to the clan. He watches as others assemble under the larger, woven marui, drenched with the water of the sea and sky. It’s clear that this was a signal for the warriors of the clan, from the elite, to the former. The young and the old. 

Even Zu’té is present, standing lone far off in the corner.

War horn in hand, the olo’eyktan makes his presence known as he stands on the highest part of the pod. His mate, the tsahìk, stands next to him with her chest high and their children next to her.

Jake and Neytiri, along with Lo’ak and Neteyam, group together behind them at the back of the pod, observing the unfolding scene. The warriors begin to chant, defensively positioned with their tongues on display. They’re all armed and ready to protect their own from whatever the impending threat is. Ralak takes his place next to Tonowari, standing tall and still. He observes the uproar before him, his mask of indifference fixed tightly to his face. 

“Mawey. Mawey. [Calm. Calm.]” Ronal speaks loudly over the heavy rain, hands splayed out in front of her. 

But it makes no difference. 

The uproar is growing even louder than the downpour. It was rare to hear this particular horn. It’s been years, ten, to be exact. And those who know exactly what it means are up in arms. Ralak knew this day would soon come, but he was hoping to Eywa that it would be after the birth of his son. Tonowari lets loose a throaty ‘gwah’, driving the butt of his spear into the ground. The crowd hushes down into a dead silence, acknowledging their leader.

“Warriors of Awa’atlu. I summon you for good reason. Ten years have passed and it is time to meet with the ash people once more.” Tonowari begins, only for the younger warriors to mumble among themselves, some of who are unaware of who the ash people are. 

“Tìfnu! [silence!]” Ralak snaps through his teeth, “…the olo’eyktan speaks.” Tonowari nods to Ralak. 

“The treaty has ended. We meet with them far inland to discuss the terms of a new treaty.” Tonowari’s eyes bounce among the sea of na’vi. “It will be no easy or short journey. We must make the trek by foot. Tonight.” 

A few male na’vi are unable to keep their excitement to a minimum and siren a few calls, smacking their strakes together. Neytiri snakes her arm around Jake's upper bicep, tucked under his wing. Neteyam and Lo’ak listen intently, their heads tilted down as they grip their bows firmly. 

“Not all will come. I have chosen a few to be at my side.” Tonowari glances at Ralak, and then the Sullys before continuing, “The rest must stay and protect the clan if needed.” 

Ronal interjects, speaking of the ash na’vi and their horrid way of living—from their occasionally cannibalistic diet to their view of Eywa and the balance. She further reminds the people of the treaty, and that its tenets include immunity from their ‘hunting practices’ in exchange for a resource only attainable on the reef. The treaty is valid for a decade and then the terms are subject to negotiation based on the two tribe’s needs. She commences it by announcing the names of those who have been chosen by Tonowari.

“I need you by my side, Ralak.”

It was a direct order, and Ralak knows that. He knows that no matter what he says, the olo’eyktan’s order must be obeyed. But it doesn’t mean he won’t try. 

“She is due any day now. You know that.” Ralak speaks crystal clear, stating exactly what his concerns are.

He doesn’t want to leave you alone, especially so heavy and full with his firstborn, who will come at any moment. Every bone in his body is telling him it’s the wrong move. But Tonowari glances at his own wife who is swollen with his fourth child.

“I know. I know, Tak. But we must do what we need. For the people.” 

Ralak holds a stare with his superior—his father figure. He’s gritting his teeth to keep himself together, to keep his composure. To keep his thoughts just as his thoughts. The two communicate through facial expressions, and a quick tilt to Tonowari’s head has Ralak looking away in frustration. 

It’s final. 

“No.” Jake butts in, sharp and quick with his disapproval. “He gave me his word.” 

Alas, a moment where father and son in law are in favour of the same thing. 

“You have the sky people and we have the ash people. They demand his (Ralak’s) presence. If we fail in this, we will be at war. He comes with us.” Tonowari is stern with his tone, leaving no room for an argument. 

“Ma’ Jake.” Neytiri chimes in, fright evident in her voice. She is tired of the war. 

As a last resort, Ralak’s gaze shifts over to Zu’té. He knew Zu’té would also be chosen despite his...'retirement'. He was undoubtedly one of the best warriors the clan has ever had, wielding great strength and skill. Zu’té returns the stare, crossing his arms over his chest as he cocks a brow. Their brothership had strengthened after Ralak sought help. 

Jake notices this, and shakes his head with his hands on his hips. “Nope. No. Who is that guy anyways?” 

“My brother.”  

“His brother.” 

The two taller na’vi speak at once. 

“Since when do you have a—You know what? I don’t care. Okay? You? I trust. Him? Not so much. I’d rather my boys stay with her.” Jake says sternly, glancing at Zu’té. “No offence, bud.” 

“Good thing I care not for your opinion, koaktan [old man].” 

“Zu’té.” Ralak whispers harshly, throwing a glare at his sibling. 

“Look, if you got a problem—”

“What about tuk?” Neytiri cuts her mate short, tugging at his arm to remind him of who is watching their youngest daughter. 

“Then they take turns or somethin’, I’m not havin’ one baby girl watched and not the other.” 

“Toruk makto.” Tonowari lays a heavy hand on the former olo’eyktan's shoulder, drawing him away to break the tension. “They cannot step foot on our land with the treaty. She will be safe. Trust me…” Their voices drown out from the pounding downpour. 

As they go back and forth, Ralak begins to process what Tonowari said.

‘They demand his presence’.

Tonowari had made this meeting the topic of conversation over the past few weeks, preparing him for this. But he never mentioned anything about them demanding his attendance in particular. The last meeting with the ash people happened when Ralak was a very young warrior, long before his iknimaya. 

Back then, Tonowari had a different warrior at his side—a different right hand. She was strong and well known for being patient with her students. It was a frequent story at family dinner when Tonowari and Ronal took Ralak under their wing. And as Ralak became Tonowari's right hand man, he was thrusted into enforcing the tenets of the treaty, going inland with Tonowari to uphold the clan's part.

Ralak has only caught a glimpse of them once after delivering the resource to the agreed spot. He had just started these excursions with Tonowari, and his curiosity got the best of him. He looked behind him for just a moment, and caught the sight of a curvy, grey woman hastily gathering and stuffing everything into a satchel of some sort. 

Her stripes were a deep, ashy blue, and her skin seemed almost scale-like. She was rid of any bioluminescence, as if the light within her was gone, and her hair was matted with what looked like burgundy clay. Tonowari then seized the back of Ralak’s neck and shoved him along, advising that he never looks. 

“It is decided. Neteyam, Lo’ak and Zu’té stay.” Tonowari announces as he and Jake rejoin the group, looking at those who are left—Tonowari, Neytiri and Ralak. “We leave soon, make your arrangements.” 

Ralak knew his last few words were directed to him. With that, Ralak strides towards Zu’té. “I know what I am asking of you, Zu’té—” 

“I will do this for you.” Zu’té turns to face Ralak, who’s undeniably uneasy and concerned. 

“Protect her.” 

“You protect her. Get in and get out of there, baby brother.” Zu’té speaks, extending his hand out to Ralak. Ralak nods firmly. He’s right, your safety, along with the rest of the clan’s, depends on how this all plays out. 

“Oe irayo si ngaru [I give thanks to you].” Ralak's hand meets Zu’té’s forearm with a smack. They tug back and forth a bit, silently wishing each other luck on their own endeavours before setting off on their skimwings. 

They arrive, walking with haste along the beach towards the stairs to Ralak’s marui pod in the pouring rain.

“That’s...interesting.” Zu’té makes a comment about the railings for the stairs. 

“She has a hard time without it.” Ralak responds, stopping at the bottom step, coming to the quick realisation that this man will essentially be replacing him for the next few eclipses. “She may need help using them.” 

Zu’té nods, understanding what he really means. “Do not fret, brother. I will take care of your mate.” 

Ralak releases a shaky breath as they make their way to the patio, finding shelter from the rain. 

“Wait here.” Ralak speaks with his back turned, “I must speak with her first.”  

——

A torturous hour has passed, and you’ve burned circles into your marui floor from pacing so much. He’s taking longer than you’d expected, and worry is really starting to set in now. 

What’s going on? What did that sound mean? Why did he leave in such a rush? With all his gear, too? 

You gnaw at the calloused piece of skin on your thumb, keeping a warm comforting hand on your bump to keep your kicking babe calm. Regardless, he continues doing somersaults in your womb.

Fuck it. 

You rush towards the marui door where your gear hangs, and fight with the strap of your chest piece to slip it on you. It won’t fasten and it’s simply too tight to fit your body right now, but you continue to grapple with the stupid strap with shaky hands. 

“Tanhì.” Ralak’s voice is rough and he sounds winded. “What are you doing?” He rushes over to you and quickly removes the piece off your chest. 

“Ralak—oh, thank Eywa.” Your voice is shaky, but thick with relief. “I’m sorry, I just got s-so worried.”

“We must speak. Time is going.” Ralak carefully ushers you over to the bed, and assists you in sitting down, holding your swollen belly along the way. He takes note of his active child, feeling his little kicks and pokes. He comforts his young with a few strokes to your stomach. “Shh-shh, little one. Alright.”

He knows this whole ordeal must be stressing you both, and he’s really regretting not telling you all of this sooner.

“What do you mean?” You ask, urgency thick in your voice.

Ralaks demeanour is nothing short of solemn, tensed jaw and tightened lips. It seems serious, and this man is no person to jest on such matters.

"Ralak...What is happening?"

He takes a moment to reply, his gaze fixed on his hand that still lays firmly on your stomach. He then looks up at you, concern etched into his features. “It is time to speak about… my duties with Tonowari.” 

You feel your heart thud against your ribcage, your eyes widen at the words. You’ve been eager to know, but now that he’s telling you, it implies that everything isn’t alright. It implies… the safety of your unborn is compromised. You nod slowly, trying to remain calm for the sake of your son. 

“We reef people hold a peace treaty with another clan…” the giant begins, slipping his hand from your stomach to clasp yours tightly. “…the ash people.” 

“Ash people?” Your voice is less than a whisper, tiny and croaky.

“They are a horrible people, tanhì. Truly wicked. Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted]. Much like the sky people.” He shakes his head as he mutters the words, not even wanting to go into any more detail. He didn’t want to taint your innocence. To stress your mind. Especially now that you’re heavy with his child. “The treaty keeps them off this land. It keeps you safe.” 

“Kawnglan [malicious; bad hearted].” You repeat through a gasp. 

“To them, Eywa is nothing. Tsaheylu [the bond] is for control. Their diet…” Ralak catches himself, bringing his words to a halt.

“Their diet…?” Your bottom lip trembles. 

Ralak just shakes his head, taking your other hand with his. “The treaty will soon end. I must go. Tonight.”

“What?!” You shout, wrenching your hands from his grasp to quickly stand up. A shooting pain sears up the side of your stomach, and your hand flies to clutch it. Ralak rushes to steady you.

“Careful, y/n.” He snaps, high strung and tense. “I will be back in a few eclipses.” 

“What? No! No, no. It’s too dangerous.” You protest, gripping his wrists to stay standing.  

“It is the olo’eyktan’s orders. I must.” He’s quick to respond to you. 

This quietens you. Does Tonowari not know that you’re due any day? Or perhaps he doesn’t care. How could he rip your mate away from you at this time? Especially for something so…risky. You feel your fear bubble into something more hot. 

Anger. 

“Then I’m coming.” You announce, dropping your hands from his wrists to waddle over to your gear once more. Ralak stands in front of you, hands on your stomach to stop you. 

“No. You're staying here.” Ralak orders sternly, backing you up to sit back on the bed. 

“No. I’m coming. I’m safer with you.” You resist his pushes, trying to stand firm.

“You are heavy with child.” He grits his teeth, giving you another light push, “I cannot protect you there. You—agh—you are safer here.”

Ralak makes the confession, feeling like he’s failing at his duty as your mate. He shouldn’t even be leaving you, not when you're this far along. He should be by your side, tending to your every need. 

“What? By myself? What if—what if something happens? What if the baby—” You’re cut short by the sound of Zu’té’s not-so-reserved entrance. He yanks the marui flap to the side, ducking under it and standing tall behind Ralak, by just a couple inches. He, too, is fully equipped with his gear and weapons. 

“Brother. I can hear the war party.” Zu’té speaks with haste, keeping his eyes locked onto Ralak. 

'Brother?' Your eyes snap back to Ralak, beady and full of tears. “You didn’t.”

It quickly dawns on you that Ralak had planned this out. Made these arrangements in anticipation things went south and he had no say in the matter. To ensure your safety, and the safety of your unborn by going to the greatest length of rekindling a flame that had been extinct for twelve years. Ralak has spoken casually of his brother before, but never in any great detail. 

“Y/n. This is Zu’té, my brother. He will keep you safe.” Ralak speaks with shame in his voice, knowing this must be way too overwhelming for you. He hadn’t planned for it to go like this. 

Zu’té finally allows his eyes to wander over to you. They widen when they get their first proper look of you, darting all over your body to take in your foreign features.

He caught a glimpse when your family first arrived in Awa’atlu, but never this close. His eyes land on your bulging stomach, lingering a second too long to make even himself a bit uncomfortable. He clears his throat and looks back at Ralak.

You look at Zu’té with anger in your eyes, and then back at Ralak as they begin to swell with hot tears. Zu’té tries to make himself smaller, feeling the thickness of the air now. He backs up into the marui flap, tempted to lift it and walk himself outside to relieve some of the pressure. 

“How long did you say this would be f-for? What if I go into labour? Will you really allow another man to deliver our son?” 

Zu’té quickly but silently excuses himself from the room, taking a spot on the patio with his arms crossed over his chest, pinching the bridge of his nose. ‘Oh, Toto. What have you gotten yourself into?’

Angry, you shot the words like an arrow and they pierced your mate’s chest with ease. He grimaces, as if he were actually in pain.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I—” You sob the apology, burying your hot face into your hands. 

Ralak embraces you, wrapping his large arms around your body, hugging you close and tight. He sways a little with you, humming deep in his chest. “‘ts alright. You’re okay. Take a breath. I know this is frightening.” 

He understands—it is not uncommon for a navi pair to remain close during the final weeks of pregnancy. It’s an unconscious mechanism, keeping them together for the birth of their offspring. Ralak feels it just as much as you but in order to truly protect you he must go— another thing that he understands. 

“You c-come back to me, o-okay?” Your breath won’t stop hitching. “Come as s-soon as y-you can.” 

“I will, I will. ” He coos, pulling back enough to look down at you. “Mawey, tanhì. Strong heart. For our baby.” 

You nod, lifting your head to look up at him. He sees the terror in your eyes and his heart breaks with guilt. He gently presses his forehead against yours, slowly stroking your back. 

“Nga yawne lu oer, nga yawne lu oer. [I love you, I love you]” He whispers longingly as he closes the distance between your mouths. 

“Nga yawne lu oer [I love you]. S-So much.” You sputter, lips trembling against his.

He kisses you with force, pressing his lips into yours until it almost hurts. You both linger there, not wanting to part ways. But you feel him pulling away, knowing there wasn’t much time left. Instinctively, cling onto him when his lips leave yours. 

“Please don’t go.” You mumble into his chest, knowing that he has no choice.

“I have to, my tanhì.” He mutters as he begins to pull away before letting go completely. 

You follow behind him, thumb in your mouth as you nibble at the skin, hand resting on top of your bump. You watch him call for his tsurak for a second time tonight, and look back at you for a moment. He takes in the sight of you standing next to his older brother, trying to find comfort in knowing that you’re in safe hands. Ralak gives him a nod and mounts the beast, taking off towards the war party.

Leaving you in the presence of Zu’té. 

“Y/n, is it?” Zu’té asks, already knowing the answer.

It’s awkward and he doesn’t do well in these types of situations. He knows comfort is what you need right now, considering you’re now sobbing into your hands again. You’re worried sick. Literally. It’s all making you feel woozy and lightheaded. 

“Listen...” He goes to rest a hand on your upper back, but he hesitates, leaving his hand to hover. He retracts it completely, allowing it to fall back to his side. He sighs, droopy ears and tensed brows. “He will return soon.”

Among all the emotions that cloud you at once, anger still remains roaring at the forefront. You find yourself turning your heel and ignoring his presence, waddling away as fast as your swollen feet will allow it. 

“Leave m-me be.” You spit between hitched breaths, ensuring the flap of the marui door shuts harshly behind you. 

Despite feeling sympathy for you, Zu’té stands outside, finding solace in being alone. He chooses the driest spot, and sets himself up on the patio, getting ready for the stormy night ahead. 

You waddle in to bed, wrapping yourself in the thick shawl that smells like your mate, and lay next to the prrsmung [baby carrier] you still have yet to finish. Feeling defeated and empty, you lay on your side in bed as you process everything, letting silent tears crash onto your bed.

——

You’re not entirely sure at what point in the night that you drifted to sleep, but you wake up in a groggy state. Dried tears make it hard to open your eyes, and your hair sticks to your face. You look around in a daze and realise that it’s still dark outside. 

The pang in your bladder keeps you awake and forces you out of bed, making you wobble to the curtain. You pull it back and are met with the sight of Zu’té sleeping propped up against the marui wall with his spear tucked to his chest. 

Seeing him painfully reminds you of the heart wrenching events of last night. That even though you were hoping and praying to Eywa for it all to be a bad dream—it was all very real. 

An icy cold breeze gusts by, making you shiver under your shawl and Zu’té shift in his sleep. The rain had eased off into a light, continuous drizzle some time during the night. 

Your ears droop with guilt for leaving him out here in the cold, damp night. You let out a sigh and grip the railing to the marui stairs, turning your body sideways to take your first step down. The wood squeaks when it takes your weight, Ralaks usual tell tale sign that you’re sneaking out at night without his help. 

It seems to work for Zu’té too because by the time you reach the second step you hear a raspy voice.  

“I was told you need help with these.” Zu’té offers his hand. You let out a sigh and take his arm. 

 You’ll admit, his helping hand is actually helping, especially now that you’re so far along. 

“Irayo [thank you].” You mutter, holding on tightly as you make your way to the bottom step. Zu’té leans against the railing, waiting for you to finish your business. 

You don’t take long, most trips recently have been false alarms—just the baby pushing on your bladder because he’s so low down. As you make your way back to the stairs, your lower back begins to warm up. It radiates to your upper and inner thighs, making them ache as you walk. 

It’s nothing new, aches and pains are becoming more frequent as the days pass, and the cold certainly isn’t helping. Zu’té meets you at the bottom step with an extended elbow, and you take his arm without a second thought. 

It starts to rain again, hard. The temperature easily falls by a few degrees and all you want is to be inside the warmth of your bed right now. Your feet move at a quicker pace and as much as Zu’té tries to be gentle as he can, his grip tightens. 

“Take your time.” He says, keeping you steady as you reach the top step. 

Once you get to the door, he immediately lets go of you, stepping aside to take his spot on the patio for the remainder of the night. You pull back the marui flap but find yourself hesitating to step inside. You look over your shoulder, watching Zu’té tuck his spear close to his chest and prop himself against the wall.

“Zu’té.” You say. He looks at you, brows raised as he listens. “It’s cold out here. You should come—” 

“Don’t worry about me.” He cuts you short, closing his eyes. 

“I’m not.” Your words are quick and almost defensive. 

Zu’té chuckles a bit, if you could even call it that. “Sounds like you are.” 

You sigh, getting a little irritated. “Whatever.”

“I’ll be alright out here.” He says nonchalantly, opening his eyes to look directly at you. Your heart skips a beat and you feel the blood drain from your face. You thought Ralak was intimidating, but this guy is something else. 

“Sure.” It’s awkward, but a good awkward…if that were a thing. “Night.”

“Wake me if you need me. No more sneaky shit.” He’s muttering now, ready to go back to sleep. “And get some rest.”

You hold back your laugh, a little amused by the stark difference in his personality and Ralaks. How are they brothers? Or related, even? 

“Will do, sir.” You match his sarcastic tone, entering the marui and laying down in bed, hoping to Eywa that sleep will find you soon. 

——

Village life continues despite Ralak and the others' absence. You wake up earlier than usual, despite the exhausting circumstances. Your baby moves, letting you know he’s awake too. 

“Daddy will be home soon.” You reassure your babe, gently rubbing your stomach. 

Perhaps you were also reassuring yourself. 

You feel empty, and numb. And as much as you want to lay in bed all day and wait for your mates return, you still have a few things left to do before your son’s arrival. 

First thing being, getting some food in your system. 

You get ready, and walk outside, noticing that Zu’té is no longer in his spot. 

He wakes early. 

Looking out into the distance, you catch sight of Zu’té crouching next to a small flame, cooking what seems to be squid. It’s hard to be sure of what it is—the sun hasn’t fully bloomed, and though the rain has stopped it’s still a bit gloomy. You make your way over to him, taking extra care when going down the stairs.

“Morning.” You say nonchalantly. 

Zu’té’s ears spring up and he looks behind him—behind you—directly at the stairs. His brows lower and he sighs quickly, knowing there’s no point in making the comment. He looks back at his task, turning the slightly charred squid impaled by a sharpened branch. 

“You’re up early.” The giant states, back turned to you to reveal his insanely intricate tattoo. 

“Same to you.” You respond, staring at his back hard enough to burn holes into it. You see some scarring and thickened skin, presumably from his days as a warrior. That much you knew because of Ralak. 

“Squid. Help yourself.” Zu’té says, handing you a stick of burnt squid. 

Taking it from him, you hold it in front of your face, a little baffled at how he seemingly saw nothing wrong with it. 

“Hm…thanks. Looks…well done.” You try to force a smile, to no avail. 

You try to take a seat next to him, struggling to keep your balance as you lower yourself to your knees. His ears lay flat and he instinctively springs to his feet, helping you sit down. He didn’t think you’d join him here. 

It’s silent. Uncomfortably silent. And awkward. You keep your extremities close and your tail closer, curled up in on yourself to remain as small as you can. Although, in comparison to your mate's brother, you were tiny. 

He’s not taller by much, but still taller nonetheless. It really makes you wonder how their parents looked for them to turn out this way. 

Zu’té eats hastily, shovelling the squid in his mouth as if it had the ability to slither away. It makes you look back at your own serving and suddenly your nerves go haywire. You didn’t want to risk getting sick, your bedside bucket is too far away to fetch. But you didn’t want to be rude—he’d obviously woken up early to make this for you. 

You take an experimental bite and fight for your life to keep a straight face. You exaggerate a nod and cover your mouth with your hand, hiding the way you're smacking away at this blubbery piece of meat. 

“Mm. Mhm.” You grunt, forcing it down and clearing your throat. “It’s—uhm, it’s not—”

“I am no ‘emyu [cooker].” He says, chucking his cleared stick into the fire. 

“Ahem—yeah. Yup.” You twirl the stick between your pointer finger and thumb, bringing his attention to your five fingered hand. His eyes widen a bit before quickly looking away, and you tuck them back in between your thighs. 

“Thanks for breakfast.”

“Sleep well?” 

You both speak at the same time, unintentionally clearing the tension in the air. 

“I suppose, all things considered.” You try to speak lightheartedly. “And you? Did any part of you freeze?” 

Zu’té laughs and shakes his head. “No, not quite.” 

“Well, that’s good.” You say, looking out at sea to witness the sun's emergence. It casts an orange hue over the water, illuminating the ripples of the oncoming waves. 

He’s watching it too. 

“Your tattoo.” You speak softly, witnessing his ears flutter. “…on your back.” 

“Ah. What of it?” 

“What does it mean? I mean—” You stutter, still adapting to the idea of inking being a symbolic statement. “What’s the story behind that?” 

The story replays in his head—the death of the spirit brothers and family. It flashes before him, as if he were in that moment again. The guilt and pain inside him is eternal, something that’s never left him since. He’s never spoken of it, not even to the person he hurt the most through it all—Ralak. 

His ears pin back and his jaw tightens. He shrugs his shoulders and mutters, “Felt like it.” 

“So…you’re telling me you did that, for fun?” The surprise is evident in your voice as you look at the tattoo again. His skin is raised and it spans the entirety of his upper back. “That must have been really painful. Ralak did mine and it took days.” 

“Didn’t hurt.” Zu’té says, turning his body to you yet keeping his eyes on the sun. But it did. It hurt—a lot. Self inflicted pain, to symbolise the pain he inflicted on others, even if it weren’t his intention. 

Maybe they are brothers. You think.

“You going to eat that?” He asks, interrupting your train of thought, pointing at your squid on a stick. 

“Uhh—I’m going to pass.” You answer, offering it to him, “…sorry.” 

“Again. Not a ‘emyu [cooker]” He takes it gladly, biting off a decent chunk and chewing at it unbothered with a deadpan expression.

Nevermind. 

Now the silence isn’t as awkward. You choose to sit here a while longer, enjoying this moment as much as you can before coming back to reality. The reality that there may be a war brewing. That—

Ralak isn’t here. 

Well, that didn’t last long. 

Sadness washes over you, making your ears droop and your tail heavy. Your baby gives you a sudden, hard kick in the ribs, as if he were telling his mummy to cheer up. You uncross your legs and shift your weight to the one side, getting ready to get up and be productive.

 Zu’té seems to take note of that. 

“Need to get up?” He asks, chucking yet another stick into the fire. 

“I got it.” You grunt, shuffling to your knees.

Zu’té lets out a displeased grumble, understanding what his brother meant when he said you have a stubborn streak. He goes to help you anyways, supporting you by the elbow. 

You’re just about standing when you feel a sharp stabbing pain in your back. It makes you jolt and grab onto Zu’té, whose slight irritation instantly turns into concern. 

“Y/n.” 

“I’m good, I’m good.” You repeat out of breath, steadying yourself before letting go. He seemed unsure if you really were okay. “Really. Happens all the time now.” 

Zu’té nods, letting go and giving you a little more space. “Alright.” 

——

The meeting spot is no other than the ‘head quarters’ of the ash people. It is only on this occasion that another clan may step foot on their land and walk away with a beating heart. That is, if all goes well. Tonowari is confident, however, knowing that the resource they provide the ash people is sufficient enough to prolong the treaty for many decades to come. 

It is an ore that forms deep underwater, and can only be extracted by the most skilled divers. Divers that can hold their breath for up to half an hour. The use of this ore remains unknown to the reef people, but the ash people are quick to seize it almost instantaneously at the drop off point. The ore is plentiful among the reef, renewing itself as it is harvested—the act of the great mother restoring balance as needed.

Truth be told, although the reef people are a peaceful people, it is no secret that they hold some of the strongest warriors on Pandora. They are proud of their home, and will fight to protect it at all costs. Even the ash people know this. Which is the reason for their agreement on something as laughable as a ‘peace’ treaty.

Otherwise, what’s really to stop them from annihilating the reef people and taking the ore themselves?  

Ralak meets with the others—Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri, and Ronal. They all set off far inland to the place the two clans met ten years ago. The trek is long and tiresome, leaving Ronal winded and in need of a couple breaks along the way. She is, too, heavy with child, but as tsahìk, she perseveres. Tonowari had tried to convince her several times to stay home, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

“We are here.” Tonowari announces as the group nears the settlement of their natural enemy. It’s a rocky environment, much like the reef but with plenty of soil and clay. “Heads straight. Ignore them.”

——

Zu’té stays nearby the marui as he tends to some of Ralak’s duties, keeping an eye on you from afar. You sit comfortably on the bottom step of the marui stairs, concentrating on finishing your baby’s sling. Your fingers are a little swollen, making it more difficult to weave. Frustrated, you plop the sling to your side and bury your face into your hands. 

Everything is just too overwhelming right now. 

“Your technique is poor.” Zu’té’s voice booms over you. 

You look up, seeing this tall man with his hands on his hips tower over you, shading you from the sun. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know that I have plenty of knowledge on—” 

“This is a prrsmung [baby carrier], yes?” Zu’té picks up the sling and sits himself next to you, searching for the point in which you left off.

You watch intently, intrigued to know his next move. He carefully unravels all the wefts you’ve managed to do since sitting on this damned step. 

“What are you doing? Stop!” 

Zu’té sighs and demonstrates a weaving technique you’ve never seen before, entwining and knitting the fabric until it comes together in an even neater fashion. You look at him in awe, dumbstruck that he was able to do that. Ralak dislikes weaving, in fact, he loathes it. 

“Try it.” He says, plucking the fabric away from itself to unravel it once more before handing it back to you. You hesitate to take it, caught off guard from his unexpected, skilled movements. 

“My fingers are swollen.” You say, feeling defeated and a little embarrassed. He looks down, noticing your five-fingered hand again, not nearly surprised as last time. 

“Not as big as mine.” He tries to hand you the sling again. “You got it.” 

Reluctantly, you take the sling and slowly mirror his movements, replicating the technique perfectly. 

“See?” Zu’té sounds pleased with himself. Looking down at the sling, it dawns on you.

“So, you’re a weaver?” You ask the question as if you had just struck gold. “Usually the women take on that role.” 

“Not here, forest girl.” Zu’té defends his role proudly, “But yes, I am.” 

“Nice. It is good to see that. My grandmother is a great weaver, she taught me all I know.” You begin. 

For as long as your body would allow it, you and Zu’té sat on that step and wove together. You wove the sling and he went to fetch his satchel to work on a piece of his own. Though you did most of the talking, and found yourself dodging one too many snarky remarks, a bond formed on that step. 

You told him about your past at hometree, your reason for seeking uturu to begin with. 

The sky people. 

The words wouldn’t stop flowing, especially when you got onto the topic of how you met his brother. You explained that Ralak was your karyu [teacher] and how that quickly morphed into something much more beautiful. How you broke past his walls—took off his mask of indifference. 

But then that awkward silence came again. The silence that reminded you why this stranger was in your home to begin with. That he was playing watchdog because your mate had to leave your side whilst being heavily pregnant. 

“I lied.” Zu’té fills the silence. It has your ears perked up and your full attention on him. Your heart picked up speed, almost expecting something bad. “About?”

“That tattoo hurt like a kalweyaveng [son of a bitch].” 

His confession has you bellowing out in laughter, clutching your stomach to keep you from shaking up your baby. 

“I knew it.” You finally say once you calm down from a much needed laugh. “No good comes from trying to pretend that things don’t hurt, you know.” 

Little did you know these words weighed heavy on him. Heavier than you meant for them to. He falls silent, contemplating if he should say what he’s about to. The real confession. The real reason behind the tattoo. 

“I killed our spirit brothers.” He blurts out, astonished by his own voice. 

Did I really just say that? Shit.

“What?” You exhale, your heart now galloping in your chest.

“It was twelve years ago. I was…seventeen. Sent out to war. I had to keep Ralak out of it. I went alone…lead a group of warriors to protect the tulkun.” His voice seizes up, as if his throat were closing. He looks away, fixing his gaze to his feet. “I was still learning. I didn’t know. I didn’t know. The sky people…they slaughtered them all.” 

“Hey, hey. That’s not your fault, Zu’té. You didn’t kill them. The sky people did.” You rest your hand on his back, feeling how raised and toughened the skin where his inking lay deep.

Zu’té just looks at you, eyes trembling with vulnerability. It’s the first someone outside of the family has ever told him that. It’s something that he needed to hear. 

“Is that why you fled? Ralak told me you left him.” 

Zu’té nods, looking away in shame once more. “I abandoned him.”

You shake your head, knowing now that Ralak has healed and no longer feels this way. “He has healed Zu’té. And now it is your turn.” 

Zu’té only nods, allowing the silence to fill the space again. This time it’s needed. 

Until it's broken by a familiar voice. 

“Sister.” Neteyam greets you at the bottom step, throwing a smile your way, then to your stomach. “Little one.” 

He’s checking on you per your fathers request. Of course he wanted to ensure you were okay, too. 

“Tey.” You smile big, happy to see such a familiar, comforting face. “I thought you went.”

You reach out for the railing to pull yourself up, and both Neteyam and Zu’té go to help you get up. You side-hug Neteyam, finding comfort in your brother. It’s been a hectic night. 

“No, someone’s got to watch Tuk…and you.” Neteyam chuckles. As you let go, your glances at Ralak’s brother. “Neteyam, this is Ralak’s brother. Zu’té.” You introduce the two properly. 

Taught manners from a young age, Neteyam gestures ‘I see you’ to the former warrior, and he returns the sign. 

“Uncle TeyTey’s got you guys for the day.” Neteyam coos at your tummy, and then offers you his arm. 

“Right...Dads orders?” You ask, happy to go with him. 

“Dads orders.” Neteyam nods firmly, looking at Zu’té to relay the message. Zu’té returns the nod, being present to hear your fathers concerns about the entire arrangement. Besides, it’ll give him time to hunt for something proper for dinner. 

“C’mon guys!” Lo’ak shouts from the ocean, mounted on his skimwing with Tuk behind him. 

“See you. Think about what I said.” You say to Zu’té, prompting him to wave goodbye. Neteyam walks you to his tsurak, helping you to get on. You had retired your tsurak for the time being, finding it hard to ride with your back pain. 

“Hey Lo’. Tuk-Tuk.” You say with relief in your voice, finding comfort in the company of your family. 

——

The ash people are impudent to say the least. They follow behind the five na’vi weaving their way through the growing crowd, right on their tails as they try to get a better look at them. They are particularly interested in Jake and Neytiri, seeing the forest people for the first time. But most haven’t even gotten a look at the reef people yet, despite having the agreement with them for so many decades already. 

Some even dare to poke and prod, tugging at their tails and their hair to get a feel or whiff of their scents. Tonowari, Jake, Neytiri and Ralak walk in a formation that allows Ronal to be in the centre, safe guarded from any pointed fingernails or astray noses. Ralak is on edge, but one could never tell by a glance. His appearance is intimidating, a stature so tall he and Tonowari tower over the crowd. 

“I do the talking.” Tonowari says discreetly as they near the entrance of the hut. 

The room is made of some sort of red clay substance, seemingly burnt to a char until it has been hardened into what feels like rock. This one in particular is large, containing smaller sectioned off rooms, partitioned with thick leather curtains. It's all very bleak, rid of liveliness and colour. 

As they enter the hut, two bigger ash na’vi guard the door on either side, blocking and guarding the entrance behind them. Two more ash na’vi lead the group with spears to their backs to a large curtain, and shove them towards it with a few harsh jabs to Jake’s and Ralak’s spines. Jake snaps around, throwing them a dirty look. Whilst Ralak keeps his gaze fixed to his feet. He feels deep in his gut that something isn’t right. 

Whether it be here, or back home. 

With each step he takes, the sense of impending doom only worsens. He has no desire to be here but he recognizes that this is what is necessary. Yet, he can’t help the way he feels. And when he finally raises his head all the pieces link together. It all makes sense. 

Before them are five na’vi in total. Two women and three men. Four ash na’vi and one…reef na’vi. A female, reef na’vi. Her face is unmistakable—unforgettable. It’s been seared into his mind since he was a young boy.

And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished. 

His karyu.

[eicsferrari]

annoyance - cs55 smau pt3

summary: you don't like carlos but now he's a williams driver and you have to see a lot more of him

a/n: short and sweet end to the series! tysm for reading. lando changing his user messed this up but i decided to just ignore it for my sanity lol also i had to find a way to add the latest news of franco going to alpine so this took a little longer to post. enjoy<3

pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3

masterlist

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Instagram

yourusername posted a story

caption: date night

replies

↪yourfriend2: what episode did i miss???? i thought we hated him

yourusername: not anymore

↪ yourfriend1: how did it go?

yourusername: really good😭 thank you for kicking some sense into me

✧

carlossainz55 posted a story

replies

↪landonorris: what a great momento to say thank you lando for being my wingman

carlossainz55: thank you lando

↪ francocolapinto: if you hurt her-

carlossainz55: i won't

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carlossainz55 posted a story

caption: the best photographer

↪user2: omg whooo👀

↪ user5: you replaced yn😔

✧

yourusername posted a story

caption: a bet is a bet

replies

↪user4: this is hilarious

↪ landonorris: send me this

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carlossainz55: fully recharged🔋 and ready for the next races🏁

view all comments

user9: is this...a soft launch?

user8: first pic🥵

user1: let's all think together, who do we know that loves wine and speaks spanish?

user3: this is so boyfriend coded

✧

yourusername posted a story

caption: race day

↪alex_albon: i see how it is🙃

↪landonorris: you are not being subtle you muppet

↪user6: watching the annoyance to lovers trope unfold in real life is insane

↪ francocolapinto: just hard launch already🙄

yourusername: if u insist

✧

♡liked by francocolapinto, carlossainz55, lilymhe & others

yourusername: camera crumbs

- carlossainz55, francocolapinto

view all comments

user4: OMG

lilymhe: so happy for you two <3

lilymhe: also i miss u😭

yourusername: let's get together soon🤍 just ditch alex

alex_albon: you steal my teammate AND my girlfriend??

user8: got a pretty face a pretty boyfriend too

francocolapinto: how do you sneak me into your hard launch and still manage to pick a terrible picture??? but congratulations, good luck with her carlossainz55

yourusername: es tradición !! [it's tradition]

yourusername: also payback for u leaving williams😭 i'll miss being paid to take your ugly pictures

carlossainz55: 💙 ♡liked by author

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♡liked by yourusername, landonorris, alex_albon, charles_leclerc, francocolapinto & others

carlossainz55: hermosa [beautiful]

- yourusername

view all comments

yourusername: ily

carlossainz55: te amo

landonorris: you make me sick🤢

landonorris: but im happy for u both

user3: their face cards are INSANE

williamsracing: 💙

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taglist: @freyathehuntress

[wendyyyyyyyy]

An imagine inspired by the song "Connected" by Bang Chan, set in a story between Chan and and the 9th member maknae (female).

warning : suggestive words, kissing. Other than that, it's safe.

Enjoy!

----–-------–----

The after-party was buzzing with energy, the air thick with glamour and expensive cologne. You had spent the night mingling with models, actors, and other idols in a high-class fashion event, trying to push down the fluttering in your chest every time your gaze accidentally met Chan’s across the room. He looked good tonight—no, he looked dangerous, dressed in a tailored black suit that hugged him perfectly, the gold chain on his neck catching the dim light.

But you couldn’t focus on him. You shouldn’t focus on him. That unspoken rule hung between you like a fragile glass wall neither of you dared to shatter.

Still, you knew he was watching you. You could feel his eyes burning holes into you from across the room as you chatted with an actor, his deep laughter making you laugh too. It wasn’t intentional, but maybe—just maybe—you lingered a little too long, your hand brushing his arm as you spoke.

And that was all it took.

Chan clenched his jaw, fingers tightening around his glass as he watched the scene unfold. You could see it from the corner of your eye, the way his smile didn’t reach his eyes when someone tried to engage him in conversation. He was holding himself back, trying to act composed, but you knew him too well.

He was jealous.

Still, he said nothing. Did nothing.

At least, not then.

It was past midnight when the knock came.

You had just stepped out of the shower, hair damp and skin warm as you slipped into an oversized T-shirt. The hotel room was quiet, the kind of stillness that made the knock on your door sound even louder. You frowned, glancing at the clock. Who could it be at this hour?

Pulling the door open, you froze when you saw him.

Chan stood there, his tie loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone, exposing the smooth planes of his collarbones. His eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and his chest heaved like he’d been running.

“Chan? What—”

Before you could finish, he stepped inside, shutting the door behind him with more force than necessary.

“What are you—”

But the words died in your throat when he grabbed your wrist, dragging you toward the small table in the corner of the room. His hands were firm but not rough, his movements deliberate as he lifted you effortlessly onto the table. Your breath hitched, your legs dangling off the edge, but he stepped between them, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” he asked, his voice low, strained, like he was holding back everything he’d been wanting to say for months. His hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as his eyes locked onto yours.

“What are you talking about?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Don’t play dumb,” he snapped, but there was no malice in his tone—just frustration. “Seeing you with him tonight… laughing, touching him like that—God, it drove me insane.”

You blinked, your heart racing. “It was nothing, Chan. We were just talking.”

His laugh was bitter, his jaw clenching as he leaned closer, his face just inches from yours. “Nothing? That’s what you call it?” His hands slid up to your waist, his thumbs brushing against the fabric of your shirt. “You don’t get it, do you? You don’t get what you do to me.”

Your breath caught as his words sank in. “Chan…”

“I hate this,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I hate that I can’t tell you how I feel, that I can’t—” He stopped, exhaling sharply as his fingers tightened on your waist. “I hate that I have to watch you with other guys when all I want is to have you for myself.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, unable to process the flood of emotions pouring out of him. He was always so composed, so in control, but now he was unraveling in front of you.

“I know we’re not supposed to,” he continued, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “I know this could ruin everything. But I can’t—I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this.”

You didn’t have time to respond before his lips crashed against yours, desperate and demanding. Your eyes widened in shock, but the heat of his mouth, the way he kissed you like he was starving, made it impossible to pull away.

And then, just like that, you gave in.

You closed your eyes as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you kissed him back with just as much passion. It was messy, frantic, like months of pent-up desire were spilling over all at once.

He groaned into your mouth, his hands roaming your back as he deepened the kiss. “You feel it too,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and gravelly. “Don’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted breathlessly, your hands gripping his shoulders. “I do. I always have.”

That was all it took.

The rest of the night was a blur of tangled sheets, whispered confessions, and stolen touches. For one night, the rules didn’t matter. For one night, you were his, and he was yours.

And even if it was selfish, it was everything you both had ever wanted.

[amymbona]

AND ANOTHER ONE! patrick teaching innocent!art how to eat reader’s pussy. reader and patrick are both more experienced. art is a little nervous/ embarrassed as he gets started as he doesn’t wanna mess up/ not make you cum. and patrick’s super explicit directions are turning both you and art on. shocking both you and patrick, art is eating you expertly within 5 minutes and humping the bed and whimpering as he does it. the desire to please you (and no longer look like a loser in pat’s eyes) so strong he doesn’t even realize he’s eating it like a pornstar. patrick continues coaching him from the side of the bed where he’s jerking his cock watching art slut you out and turn YOU into the sub….telling him to spread you open, suck your clit, push his tongue into your ass, and you eventually cream all over his tongue and squirt all over his face, soaking his dorm bed sheets and some of patrick’s shirt….oh how the tables have turned😩 -🍄

THIS IS INSANE MUSHROOM

Patrick is literally flabbergasted, watching this whole thing unfold in front of his eyes. He can't believe it, like this is happening in front of his eyes! You - his favourite girl - getting her pussy violently eaten out by Art - his favourite boy - and it's making his dick rock hard.

You're a mess, totally, unable to produce any single sound that isn't a moan or a gasp, back arching off of the bed as you squeeze Art's blonde head between your thighs. You're smothering him in your cunt and he's not complaining, he's really fucking enjoying it, sucking onto your clit like it's a goddamn pacifier in his baby mouth. He doesn't even need Patrick to direct him, his best friend's grasp on his angel curls slowly loosening. He's simply devouring you, tongue lapping on your pussy and sliding through the slick lips with slobbery motions.

You can only watch - actually - you're unable to lift your head off of the pillow, completely out of it, just singing a pornographic melody to fill the room. The most you can do is reach out and tangle your fingers with Patrick's, holding onto him for dear life, because the intensity of Art's good fucking mouth is simply heavenly.

"Good bos, good fucking boy. Yeah, Art - mhm, fuck! There! - keep going. Yes, yes, yes!"

Next to you, Patrick is in trance, not even capable of stroking his own dick. He's just watching this scene with his mouth hanging open, squeezing your hand, completely entranced.

Art tongue laps at your asshole, making you clench around the pink serpent and let out the loudest "fuck!" you possibly could. The soft tip of his nose rubs over the hood of your clit, rolling over the burning nub and literally setting it on fire. He takes your clit between his lips again and his stubble tickles the insides of your thigh - god damn, that's it! That's fucking it! - and you're squirting all over his face.

What sets the final nail to the coffin is Art's complete obedience, executed with such confidence that doesn't even make him look submissive, is the fact that he swallows everything that gets into his mouth. He doesn't protest, he doesn't grimace, he lets the sticky liquid trickle down his throat like it's goddamn water. And when he peeks up, like a lion from between your thighs, it almost makes you squirt again.

[raiynnah]

Rescue

@wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 676

“Let’s go save your damsel in distress,” James says to Remus through a chuckle. He’s nervous—they all are—and trying to hide it through the many jokes that don’t land quite right. 

Rolling his eyes, he tells James, “Sirius is not a princess locked away in a tower.”

“Are you sure?” Peter squeaks out, looking a bit green in the face as he peeks over the car window at Grimmauld Place. “Because I’m not convinced his mum doesn’t breathe fire.” They hadn’t needed much convincing with teenage invincibility on their side but now, with the danger ominously staring right at them, the fear is beginning to set in.

“Ok, what’s the plan, Moony?” Remus groans, thinking hard. Of course James wouldn’t have planned anything before storming through their houses and recruiting them for this insanely reckless rescue mission. Remus would do anything for his boyfriend though, especially to help him escape the dragon’s clutches, so he analyses their way in. He can’t even be mad at James for it.

“I’ll go up there and ring the doorbell to distract Kreacher…” He cruelly puts Kreacher in the role of the troll on the bridge, something which he’ll have to mention to Sirius later, who’d find it hilarious. “Wormtail will sneak in and open that window on the left that’s shrouded by those bushes from the inside. Prongs, you’ll sneak in there and go up to Padfoot’s room..” The plan unfolds in front of him as the minutes pass, his mind buzzing with adrenaline.

When he walks up to the forbidding door of Sirius’ nightmarish house, he gulps audibly, fear brimming in his chest, and knocks three times on the door. It creaks open to reveal Kreacher’s wrinkled face and stone-cold glare. Out of the corner of his eye he sees a rat run past them and into the house.

“Uh, hi!” Remus says, a fake smile plastered to his face. “I was hoping you could help me out here. You see—”

“What does the halfbreed want?” Kreacher asks, visibly annoyed. Remus winces.

“Well, I was on my daily walk today, just enjoying the good weather, you know?” It’s cloudy and cold but he continues. “When I realised that I was enjoying it a bit too much! You know how it is.” He raises his voice as he hears stumbling in the background, but Kreacher doesn’t seem to notice. “And then I realised I was lost! My grandmother always said…” 

He babbles on fruitlessly, repetitions and pauses blurring in his monologue, fear drilling through him. Minutes creep by slowly and Remus can see Kreacher getting increasingly irritated. He fidgets uncomfortably at the way those beady eyes look right through his soul.

“...And that’s when I saw your house and realised, wow, am I lucky that—” Kreacher slams the door shut and he can’t help but sigh in relief. Still, he waits for a couple seconds before making his way back to the car. Remus hurries into the driver’s seat, from where he watches the house for what feels like hours. It’s not until James and Peter are running out, Sirius hot on their trail, shouting “Go, go, go!” that he starts the car.

His friends jump in, both James and Peter in the back with a nod of unspoken agreement. Sirius looks lovely, wrenching the car door from Remus’ other side open, hair flying loose and a pillow lines pressed into his cheek. He pulls Remus in for a passionate kiss, slamming the door shut with his other hand at the same time as his mother rushes out of the house in fury. 

“Hi, Moony,” he says, drowsiness still in his voice, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too, sweetheart.” Remus steps on the gas and they speed away, the others making faces at Walburga from the back window. He’d saved his princess from the tower and he can’t wait to see Sirius’ face (offended and amused) when he says that out loud. He knows James will keep the jokes going for days, might as well get a head start.

[mxlti-fand0m-imaginess]

Hell Is A Teenage Girl - Prologue

series summary: Y/n is finally a part of the most popular clique in school, something she’s always wanted. The only catch is they’re total airheaded bitches, making her dream life not everything she had dreamt it would be. But when new girl Hazel Callahan finds her way into y/n’s life, everything changes.

chapter summary: Brittany has made it her mission to make Annie’s life miserable, and she’s forcing y/n to help. Hazel watches the chaos unfold in the cafeteria and decides that everyone at this school is just as horrible as everyone at her last one. Well, everyone except y/n.

warnings: bullying, crying, language, jeff and tim talk about girls in a really disgusting way

word count: 1.3k

a/n: fem!reader, ik this chapter is kinda short but i wanted to stop teasing this series and finally put some of it out! i’ll try to make the next one longer, but i can’t necessarily guarantee that. i hope you enjoy!!!

series masterlist

******

Dear Diary,

Brittany told me that she teaches people real life. She said real life sucks losers dry. If you wanna fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly. I said so you teach people how to spread their wings and fly. She said yes. I said you’re beautiful.

Sitting on the bleachers in the gym, y/n scribbled her thoughts down in her diary. Being a part of the most popular clique in school surely had its perks, but it’d be a lot more enjoyable if her friends weren’t such uptight bitches. Stella Rebecca and Isabel weren’t so bad, sometimes y/n could actually stand being around them. Brittany was the problem. The queen of Rockbridge Falls. She was a mythic bitch.

“Come on, y/n!” Stella Rebecca said, startling y/n.

“Geez, what’s your problem?”

Stella Rebecca sighed. “Don’t blame me, blame Brittany. She told me to haul your ass to the caf pronto.”

Isabel nodded. “She said she needs to talk to you.”

Y/n sighed, closing her diary and slipping it into her bag. “What is it this time?”

Isabel smiled. “Brittany found out Annie has a crush on Tim. She’s going to destroy her.”

Huffing, y/n followed Stella Rebecca and Isabel to the cafeteria, a pit forming in her stomach. Because of her insanely high IQ, she had the unique ability to be able to copy anyone’s handwriting exactly, a talent she always found useless. Brittany, however, just loved to use that to her advantage; whether that be making y/n write her an absence note, or in this case using it to utterly humiliate someone.

Brittany grinned, her bright red lipstick accentuating her already perfect smile, as she saw Isabel and Stella Rebecca approaching, y/n in tow.

“There you are, I’ve been waiting.”

Y/n forced a smile. “Hey Brittany.”

“I got my hands on a paper of Tim Phunk’s. I need you to forge a hot and horny, yet realistic note in Tim’s handwriting and we’ll slip it onto Annie’s lunch tray,” Brittany said, grinning wickedly.

”Shit, Brittany. I don’t have anything against Annie, she’s one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met.”

Brittany huffed impatiently, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well it’s not like you have anything for her either. Just do it, it’s going to be hilarious.”

”I’ll think about it.”

”Don’t think.”

Y/n glanced over at Annie, cheerfully chatting to Sylvie in the lunch line, blissfully unaware of the plot being formed against her. Brittany held out a pen and a piece of paper, and y/n reaches for it almost involuntarily, having been practically brainwashed to do Brittany’s bidding.

Brittany grinned, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Good choice. I’ll tell you what to write. Y/n needs something to write on. Isabel, bend over.”

Sighing to herself, Isabel turned around and bent over, presenting her back to y/n to write on. Y/n placed the paper on Isabel’s outstretched back, waiting for Brittany to dictate what she wanted her to write.

~

”Think she’ll ever talk to me?” Josie wondered aloud, her gaze fixed upon Isabel.

PJ scoffed. “Who? Isabel? Not a chance. No way in hell are you getting the attention of someone as popular as her.”

Josie sighed, turning to look at PJ. “As if you have any better of a chance.”

PJ smirked cockily. “Are you forgetting that I went out with Brittany?”

“Yeah, on one date. And then she never talked to you again,” Josie said with a laugh.

“She still could, you never know. At least I have more of a chance than you.”

Josie chuckled to herself, turning her attention back to Isabel. “Whatever you wanna tell yourself.”

“What are they even doing? Why is y/n writing on Isabel’s back? There’s a table right there,” PJ grumbled.

Josie paid closer attention, noticing how Brittany kept glancing back at Annie and laughing, and frowned. Of fucking course. For the past few months, Annie had been Brittany’s main target because for some reason she had decided to utterly destroy her. Now Josie wasn’t exactly friends with Annie, the two barely saying a word to each other outside of class, but she still cared about her. Annie was one of the nicest people she’d ever met, definitely not someone who deserved being targeted so heavily. Though she had never said a word to her, Josie hoped that Isabel wasn’t as enthusiastic about this plan as Brittany was.

”Probably another plan to humiliate Annie. I wish Brittany would grow up and finally stop making everyone miserable.”

PJ huffed in annoyance, slapping Josie’s arm with the back of her hand. “Hey! Don’t talk about her like that. She’s perfect just the way she is.”

~

Hazel sat in the corner of the cafeteria, picking at her lunch with disinterest. Not even one week at her new school and she could already see through everyone here. The popular kids and the so-called “losers”, this whole social hierarchy bullshit, she’d seen it at every other high school she’d been to and it was always the same. A small group of painfully fake assholes running the school and making the lives of everyone around them miserable. She was fucking tired of it.

Watching in mild amusement over the stupidity of the whole thing, Hazel watched as one of the cheerleaders, Stella something?, took a folded up piece of paper and snuck it onto another girl's, Amy’s?, lunchtray. The girl didn’t even seem to notice, continuing to walk with her friend, engaged in a cheerful discussion.

Rushing over to her two cheerleader friends, and someone else?, Hazel watched as they laughed, their eyes locked onto the girl. Well, the cheerleaders laughed. The fourth girl with them, however, didn’t even seem amused. No longer bothering to pay attention to the situation at hand, Hazel found her eyes drawn to her. She was pretty cute. Extremely cute, in fact. Plus, she didn’t seem to be getting off on this crude display of bullying. No, she was different.

Hazel couldn’t help but want to know more about her.

~

Jeff and Tim sat together, staring at y/n and the cheerleaders, gleefully talking about them to each other in the most crude manner, not seeming to give a thought to the fact that they were real people and not just some dolls they could fuck.

“I wanna set Brittany on my johnson and start spinning her like a fucking pinwheel,” Tim said, staring directly at her.

“Hell yes. It’d be so fucking hot to be in a y/n-Brittany sandwich. Punch it in!” Jeff said, a smile on his face as he held his fist out towards his best friend.

Tim slammed his fist against Jeff’s, not processing his words until a moment later. “Wait. Dude, aren’t you still dating Isabel?”

Jeff shrugged. “So? She doesn’t have to know I think her friends are hot.”

Tim sighed, shaking his head. “Bro, she barely took you back the last time you cheated on her. Just be careful to make sure she never finds out.”

”Relax, she won’t.”

Annie approached the table, a nervous smile on her face and a slightly crumpled note held in her shaky hand. “Hey Tim…”

~

Hazel’s gaze was pulled away from the girl when she heard a horrendous, barking laughter. Turning to the table it came from, she saw… Annie! that was her name!, Annie standing in front of two jocks, one of them holding the note she was given, as they laughed in her face, the cheerleaders soon joining in. Annie’s face dropped, tears welling in her eyes as she bolted out of the cafeteria, a girl with long blonde hair wearing a beanie running after her.

Everyone kept laughing, everyone except for the pretty girl that caught her eye. She really was different. But everyone else at this godforsaken school, they were exactly like she thought they’d be. Cold-blooded monsters. Something needed to be done about them. And Hazel was going to be the one to do it.

tags: @hazelvrr @ohnomywenis @fictionalgap @ihyperfixatetoomuch @usuck @mxqdii @girlsarecool @thestarkinternship @bluerazberrystarz @riverrivrio @cannibalsclass @lesbodietcoke @dangladam

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