#small ships like these melt my heart

[drabsyo]

bro wake up new animagus project chapter just dropped!!!

i adore the The Animagus Project by sleepingontheway :''))

🟢The Animagus Project by sleepingontheway

Summary: What on earth was McGonagall thinking? Hermione had never worked with Daphne Greengrass. She had never spoken to Daphne Greengrass. They had shared classes for over five years now, and tonight might be the first time Hermione had ever even heard her voice. ___________________________________________ In which Hermione is tasked with completing a long, complicated project with Daphne Greengrass: enigma.

for @sleepingontheway! thank you for writing and sharing The Animagus Project <3 when i first read the fic, i was OBSESSED. Here's something I've been working on in honor of your fic :>

[rinasauruss]

magnetic mishap | bucky barnes

summary: you bought magnets for Bucky's arm, forgetting that vibranium is not magnetic

warnings: fluff, no use of y/n, gn!reader, drunk!reader, alcohol consumption, tears, bucky in love™ (if i missed any pls lmk!)

word count: 0.8k

A/N: (i'd previously posted this on another account but i decided to just post it here instead, so if you've read this before, pretend like you didn't :P) i saw a post about this and i couldn't help myself! this is my first ever bucky fic! i hope i did him justice :) English is not my first language, so I apologize for any grammar/ spelling mistakes. feedback is appreciated!

The living room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the floor lamp casting a warm ambiance. Bucky Barnes sat on the olive-colored couch, resting his head on the taupe throw pillows you'd fawned over at the flea market, obsessing over the embroidered leaves on the pillows, exclaiming how well they'd match with the couch you'd bought when you first moved in the apartment. That was a memory he was fond of. It was after your first year together- when you moved in together, deciding to look for apartments in Brooklyn.

His legs were propped up comfortably on the other end of the couch. A copy of The Hobbit you gifted him sat in his hands, his eyes flitting over each word, totally engrossed in the worn-out book with deckle edges and a spine that can barely hold up itself he'd read many times.

He looked up from his reading as muffled giggles and the clinking of keys sounded from outside, along with a few curse words as you tried to fit the keys into the lock. After a minute or so, the front door creaked open, and in you came, a stumbling, drunken mess. Bucky's heart skipped a beat at the sight of you, his heart constricting at the bright look on your face as your eyes zeroed in on him.

"Hi, baby!" You called out, your voice slightly slurred with the telltale signs of a fun night out with your friends.

Bucky closed his book, placed it on the coffee table, and waited for you to reach the couch, a smile spreading across his face. He loved these moments- when you returned home all giddy and carefree. You were a ray of sunshine, lighting up his dark, lonely world.

"Hey, sweetheart," Bucky replied, his voice filled with affection, and adoration, as he watched you walk towards him. His eyes were twinkling with love as you finally reached him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, guiding you into his lap, and you immediately snuggled up, like it was second nature for you- which it was. "You had a good time tonight?"

You nodded enthusiastically, your head all but bopped up and down and swayed from side to side, your face flushed. "The best time! We danced, and- and we... oh! I have something for you!" You reached into your purse, retrieving a small package wrapped in colorful paper.

Bucky's curiosity was piqued as he took the package from you, carefully unwrapping it, and revealing a set of magnets. His eyes widened in surprise. "Magnets?"

You nodded again, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "For your arm!" Your words slurred slightly as you laughed, your intoxication making the idea seem absolutely brilliant.

You took out a heart-shaped magnet, trying to stick it on Bucky's arm, to no avail. It kept falling; you huffed, annoyed, and took out another magnet from the set, this time, one shaped like a rocket ship. Aggravation was quick to take the place of your excitement when it kept falling as well.

Bucky chuckled softly, his heart melting at your drunken enthusiasm. He glanced down at his vibranium arm, knowing that the magnets wouldn't stick, he felt kind of guilty having to break the news to you. "Doll, vibranium isn't magnetic."

Your smile faltered, and your brows furrowed in disappointment. Your intoxicated glee quickly transformed into genuine heartbreak, as tears welled up in your eyes. "I... I didn't think about that," you murmured, voice laced with sadness and disappointment.

Bucky's heart ached at the sight of your distress. He gently cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping away a tear that had escaped. "Hey, hey, it's alright," he whispered soothingly, a hint of amusement in his voice. "You didn't know. It's the thought that counts." 

You sniffled, lower lip trembling. "But I wanted to your arm to look even cooler. Imagine how cool it would look with magnets, Buck." 

Bucky's heart swelled with love and adoration. He had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing at your antics. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you sighed at the feathery touch of his lips, seemingly content for the time being. 

"I love you, Bucky," you whispered, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips, your eyes shimmering with affection.

"I love you more than words can express," Bucky confessed, his voice filled with sincerity.

At that moment, everything else faded away. Sat in Bucky's lap, wrapped in his arms, your love for one another radiating throughout the room. 

"C'mon," Bucky ushered, "let's get you to bed, honey." His voice was gentle.

"Next time, I'm getting stickers," you mumbled to yourself, a very serious look on your face.

Bucky smiled blissfully, a blush adorning his face. As he held you, he knew that his love for you was unbreakable, even in the face of small disappointments. Your bond was stronger than any magnet could ever be.

i hope you liked it, pls let me know what you thought of this. likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated♡

[shy-writer-999]

Under the mistletoe with Ace ❄️

Summary: One of the crew members put up mistletoe somewhere on the ship. Will Ace finally lure you underneath, or will he chicken out? ~1.2k words. CW: fluff! kissing. gendered language, e.g. "princess"

Let's unwrap the first present of my holiday event! It comes with a pretty surprise—artwork by none other than @hirakyun13 who is collabing with me the whole event! 💓

Whoever decided to put mistletoe up in the ship had a good sense of humor. It was perched in a very opportune, deliberate spot. It couldn’t be more visible.

Who put it there? Marco? Someone else?

People passed under it all day long, cracking jokes about who they were going to kiss, pretending to grab crewmates into hyper-exaggerated, joke-makeout sessions. Guffaws and chokes of laughter echoed across the ship the whole day. It certainly made the ship feel like there was more holiday cheer going on.

When you first spotted the small bundle of green leaves, tied up in a pretty red bow, it must have been no coincidence that Ace was standing nearby, chatting with a handful of crewmates. He leaned on the doorframe, seemingly oblivious to what lied above.

Turning his head to look at you, he winked. It’s like he had a sixth sense as far as you were concerned—he could just tell if you were nearby, if you were looking at him, hell, sometimes you wondered if he could somehow read your thoughts. His radar for you was downright uncanny.

The winking had occurred a handful of times before, always when you were least expecting it. Ace pretended not to notice the way you instinctively averted your eyes for a split second afterwards in embarrassment. You brushed the sight off. No point in fantasizing about Ace standing under the mistletoe winking at you, right? That’s totally normal. Nothing there to hyper-fixate on. But as much as you tried to let the interaction go, it ran on repeat in your mind all day.

Later that night the crew had a nice feast. It was a special day, Christmas eve, a holiday out at sea that—even though no one really celebrated—acted as an excuse for a banquet, more rowdiness than usual.

Ace had a couple of drinks during the feast. He didn’t go overboard, but he was psyching himself up for what he was going to do later. His eyes stayed trained on you whenever he could get away with it and his mind raced. Was he going to be able to pull this off?

When dinner was over and everyone took their raucous laughter elsewhere, Ace knew that you had the habit of tidying a bit. Recently he had been joining you. He did anything to get some time with you, one on one.

“Want some help, sweetheart?” His eyes were warm, freckles devilishly handsome, hair sitting perfect. That’s the word for him—perfect. You almost couldn’t take it. Especially when he called you nice things like that.

You agreed, of course. You’d (similarly) take any time with him that you could get. As he helped you take stray dishes to the kitchen and wipe down tables (Thatch was taking a well-deserved break), Ace gravitated to you, maybe more than usual.

He worked beside you, so close your arms almost brushed. When the work was done, his heartbeat skyrocketed.

“How does a nightcap sound, princess? Or some hot chocolate?” His gesture was sweet, thoughtful, and polite—very much in character.

“Hot chocolate sounds good.” You smiled back, trying now to get weird or awkward, holding back the overwhelming feeling of being flustered.

Within minutes he had two piping-hot cups of hot chocolate in hand, grinning. He handed you a mug. It was the perfect temperature and tasted delicious (maybe it was so delicious because he made it?).

“I heard some of the crew say it’s snowing outside. Want to see? I’ll keep you warm, no need for a coat.” Ace’s smile was genuine, not suggestive in the slightest. He radiated pure kindness, emphasized by his chivalry. It made your heart melt.

“C’mon.” He gestured towards the hallway—the one that just so happened to have the mistletoe hanging at the end)—and you led the way.

As you advanced closer to the mistletoe, Ace was internally screaming at himself. It was the perfect opportunity. For Ace, time stood still. It was like you were moving in slow motion.

When you realized that you’d both be under the mistletoe at (almost) the same time, you turned red in the face at the implication, wishing that you actually could kiss him. A sweet holiday fantasy. One that you were sure would never happen.

So, you passed under the bundle of green hanging on the doorway and your heart sank. You had indulged in the guilty pleasure of fantasy, one that you knew was no good. No point in getting your hopes up.

Hopefully you would go back to normal soon, not frozen in bashfulness and cringe. You were painfully embarrassed at the thought of Ace realizing that you were flustered out of your mind. Maybe he’d realize that you were acting like this because the mistletoe, maybe he’d catch on that you wanted him like that.

Just when you thought the moment had passed, just when you were exhaling and internally steadying yourself, Ace reached forward and grabbed you by the hand gently, pulling you backwards and close to him so your bodies were pressing on one another’s. Up close like this, Ace looked better than you could have imagined.

His eyelashes were ridiculously long, it was unfair. You could see how deep and rich the color of his eyes was, how his freckles winked and danced every time he grinned like that.

“Wha—?” You reflexively blurted out, breathless, but he cut you short with a kiss. His big hand cupped your cheek and he pressed his lips on yours softly.

A thousand miles a minute, your heart threatened to explode. You went completely rigid, gripping the handle of the mug you were holding so hard you almost broke it.

The kiss was long and delicate; he caressed your cheek like you were something precious to him. The warmth from his hand spread to your entire body; it was thawing a chill that you had been holding in your heart for months as you tried to keep your intense feelings for him at bay.

When Ace finally pulled away, you could see blush dust his cheeks. His smile was softer, just as sweet, and his eyes were mesmerizing, riveted on yours. Somehow, he just got hotter up close, more captivating.

“Ace, what’re you—?”

“I couldn’t help myself, gorgeous. I’ve been wanting to do that for ages. C’mere.”

He pulled you into another kiss. Followed by another. He couldn’t get enough of you. His free hand wandered slightly, trailing downwards to your waist as he pulled you closer. A singular thought raced through both of your minds at once—“finally”.

Each kiss was romance movie levels of fantastic. Fireworks. A torrent of emotions finally flooding out, expressed, for the moment, in kisses alone. Who knows how long this would have lasted, or where it would have gone, if it weren’t for the unwelcome (but wholesome) interruption.

“Y’know you guys are really missing out on the sn—OH SHIT!” Marco’s jaw dropped and he shielded his eyes for a moment. “So, the mistletoe finally worked? Fucking hell, we’ve been waiting for you two goofs to get together all day.”

happy holidays~ i'm posting again (with another artwork by @hirakyun13) on the 18th, 20th, 24th, 25th!

the present for the 18th is looking very... curly and blonde...

regular masterlist holiday event masterlist

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

Can I ask for Headcanons/Scenario with the crew members where it's a normal tulpar haul. But the reader is an extremely experienced captain of another ship,and they're older,more built and more strict. Like think 6'7,built like an extreme weightlifter,very classy and formal.

And they're on the tulpar to look after everything because it's an incredibly important shipment? What would the crew members reactions be to the reader appearing very strict,no-nonsense,cold and condescending. But once they get close, the reader is actually very nice.

also can it be a male reader? Thank you! I love your writing. <3

Melting the Ice away.

Crew Members x Male! Older! Strict! Reader. [ Reader is a high ranking captain of another pony express ship ]

a/n; this ask was basically buried deep in my inbox,i was just scrolling through and found it.

Tulpar! Captain,Curly.

Oh boy,and they used to say that curly was the most able employee at pony express. Clearly they lied,Cause LOOK. AT. YOU.

For the first time in his career,he felt intimidated.

The way you basically hovered over him,gave him chills ngl.

He admires you so fucking hard, your efficiency ,your capability, and your experienced nature. you need something? Grant Curly is on it!... He found himself trying to... Impress you???

He was basically always looking for your approval at things,no matter how small or trivial it was. He needed your opinion.

He was also starting to wonder wether or not the feeling of intimidation... was rather something else.

He is definitely feelin a lil somethin somethin.

When he actually got to know you,and saw how kind and sweet you actually were. This guy just fell,he fell guys,he just fell.

Co-Pilot, Jimmy.

Manz is PISSED.

He is freaking LIVID,as if Curly wasn't already enough,bossing him around.

He'll never ever admit it to anyone,but he was basically scared of you,of how... Domineering you were.

He is jealous of how put together you were,always effortlessly classy.

He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be you,or wanted to be with you.

He didn't even notice it,but you found him staring,so intently that it actually concerned you.

Whenever you would try to interact with him he'll make up an excuse and run away.

But he,too wanted to get on your good side.

He'll die before ever admitting it,but he was craving your praise so fucking bad.

He is just dying on the inside,he desperately wants to hear you call him a 'Good Boy'.

Maybe he'll have to impress you some other way,who knows?

Nurse, Anya.

Let's be fr,the first time Anya saw you,her heart skipped a bit. I mean c'mon! Can you blame her? She doesn't see handsome, capable, disciplined male colleagues on the regular,does she?

Cut her some slack for staring! She can't help herself for wanting to admire you!

Like the others,she also tries her best to live up to your expectations,to be on your good list. She tries to make sure all your needs are met,(which aren't even bothersome,you prefer to do things your own anyway) but she always insists upon helping you out!

You began to notice that no matter who else wasn't around,Anya was always there in the corner of your eye. Was she... Following you around?

By Gods,she can't help it! No other person on the ship is as pleasant to be around as you! She feels at ease when she's with you. And you don't mind.

When she finally gets to know the real you, the butterflies in her stomach settle down into something even more soothing and calming.

Her puppy crush is beginning to grow,maybe someday in the near future, she'll ask you for things, beyond the professional limit.

Mechanic, Swansea.

He is just glad that there is someone on this godforsaken ship who has the screws in their head straight.

He does feel a bit relaxed that he doesn't have to worry about things going wrong with you onboard.

He sometimes has you deal with Daisuke instead. More relaxation time for him.

He can count on you. And he likes you the best on the ship.

Doesn't shy away from praising you in front of others.

Intern,Daisuke.

"WOWZER MISTER YOU'RE SO COOL!".

He was a bit scared of you at first,but quickly warmed up to how refreshing you were.

You were strict,yes. But not as much as Swansea. You never scolded him,or complained about him to others.

Instead you always, efficiently taught him how to do things properly.

The way you spoke,the way you presented yourself. He didn't find it strange how his other, older, colleagues were swooning over you either.

Grew to like you the best on the ship as well,always right by your side.

He does think you're hot,but is intimidated pretty easily.

[enwoso]

Cute lil blurb idea we know alessia is one of the faces of adidas. Alessia getting gifted a pair of her own boots as well as a Lovie sized pair and Lovie wants to wear them all the time and wear her hair up like alessias because she says she’s dressed as mummy

MIRRORED — alessia russo x child!reader

grumpy universe

it was an average wednesday, alessia was carrying you into the arsenal training ground her hands filled with her bag and your bag. you still being half asleep after falling back asleep on the car journey there as alessia made her way through the long corridors and towards the changing room.

not before being stopped by a memeber of staff, "alessia there's a box that's got your new boots in" he smiled as he passed the blonde in the corridor. alessia calling out a thank you as she headed still towards the changing room.

"right lovie are you just going to sit and watch your ipad?" your mummy asked as you hummed pulling your blanket further up to your face. alessia pushing the door to the changing room with her foot as she headed inside, most of the girls being there already and starting to change into their training gear.

alessia placed you down on the bench near her locker as you got yourself comfy, your mummy quickly propping your ipad up and putting something on for you to watch knowing you'd be content until you came around and woke up properly.

alessia sat down and took a breathe, it being the first one she'd properly been able to take this morning after having to rush around after pressing snooze one too many times this morning.

"this yours, less?" alessia turned to where the voice was coming from, it was lotte pointing to a big brown box that was sat next to alessia.

the blonde nodding, "yeah it's new boots for the rest of the season."

"you not gonna open them? looks like they've sent enough for the next season too" lotte joked looking at the size of the box, it definitely not being the smallest box. alessia humming as she too was wondering why the box was so abnormally large. there was only supposed to be three pairs of boots in there.

"they said they were only sending three pairs-" alessia paused as she lifted the box onto her lap, ripping open the seal on the cardboard box, a loud noise echoing the room as she did so.

"oo they aren't they nice" alessia mumbled under her breath as she looked at the boots, a smile creeping on her face. it was always fun getting new kit, the excitement of unboxing them.

"what's in that one?" lotte pointed to the small adidas box which definitely didn't have boots in as it was too small. the blonde shrugged picking them up from inside the large brown box they'd been shipped in.

opening the box, there was a greeting card on top. 'toughness in tiny packages!'

a little quirk of the eyebrow as alessia looked towards lotte who just shrugged urging the blonde to just open the box.

moving the white tissue paper covering the item was a small pair of boots, just like the ones they'd sent alessia but in a size that would fit you.

"oh my god, she's gonna love these" alessia pouted taking in the small boots as she turned them around getting a full feel of the pair of green fusion with the three stripes being a purple colour.

they were almost identical to the ones alessia had just been given to use for the remainder of the season, they had even put your name on the side in small white letters.

a small pout on alessia face as her heart was melting at the cuteness of them, "there class them" lotte complimented as alessia showed her best friend where they'd even put your name on them.

alessia gushed over the small boots along with the other sets of clothes adidas had sent you to wear that matched your mummy. alessia decided to wait until you were in a better mood to show you them. knowing it would get a better reaction than the tired reaction she would get if she showed them to you now.

morning training had finished and the team was ready to go to lunch, you'd been waiting inside. playing with winnie for the morning, you even getting to take the club dog for a walk around the inside of the training ground.

"lovie, c'mere" your mummy called you over as you were laid out on the floor with win, as you watched your ipad. winnie guarding over you protectively.

you perking up at the sound of her voice, pushing yourself off the floor and toward your mum. leaving win to watch your ipad.

you walked over you to your mummy as had a big smile on her face, lifting you up when you got closer. "i've got something to show you"

your eyebrows knitted together, "what is it" you asked curiously. as you began to guess things as your mummy carried you to wherever this thing was that she had to show you.

"no lovie it unfortunately isn't a unicorn but i think it's just as good!" your mummy let out a chuckle at your strange suggestions as you got lost in thought — what was better than a unicorn?

alessia took you back into the locker room where she’d left the packages, placing you to sit on the bench as she grabbed the brown boxes from her locker before handing them to you.

you looked at the box that was now on your lap it easy being nearly the size of you, as you hesitantly looked up towards your mum. one thing you did know is that there definitely wasn’t a unicorn in there..

“open it lovie” your mummy encouraged as you opened the box, discarding the wrapping to one side as you rummaged around before finally lifting up the boot.

a gasp escaping you as you looked at the football boots, a big grin plastered across your face as you jumped up to hug your mummy’s leg. maybe matching boots were cooler than a unicorn.

“mummy there exactly like yours!” your called out holding the boot in the air as if it was a trophy a giggle coming from your mummy’s leg at your excitement.

“i can be like you now!” you continued, as you looked at the two boots as your mummy sat down next to you showing that they had your name on the side, you being in utter awe and for once lost for words, for a short amount of time.

“i wear them now!” you asked as alessia nodded knowing it would put a damper on your mood if she hadn’t let you. “you put my hair like yours too!” you asked pointing to the thick plait that was in your mummy’s pony tail — you wanting the exact same.

your mummy did as you asked plaiting your pony tail that your hair had been scraped back into this morning, alessia putting your little fly aways back in place as you put your boots on. trying your best to lace them but you hadn’t mastered that yet so you left it for your mummy to do.

“all done lovie!” your mummy patted your feet as she finished lacing your boot up, a grin not leaving your face. “gosh it’s like looking in the mirror-“

you were stood looking in the mirror that was built into the wall in the locker room, your mummy stood behind you and if anyone had of walked in it would ah e looked like alessia had duplicated a smaller version of herself.

“should we show the girls?” your mummy asked as you nodded rushing off back to the canteen where most of the girls would be, alessia following suit.

"woah, less is that you?" beth joked as she knelt down to your height as you came in the room just before your mummy, you dressed exactly like her.

"no bethy! it's me!" you squealed correcting beth as she let out a loud laugh. alessia coming through the double doors.

"silly me, i just couldn't tell you apart you look just like your mum!"

[writingbuckets]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐢𝐯

paige bueckers x podcaster!reader

wc: 2.9k

a/n: sorry i haven't posted in a while, been super busy with finals coming up and thanksgiving break <3

The morning sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden glow over the bustling city streets. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder, your steps quick but unhurried as you made your way to the familiar café. It had become something of a ritual—a brief reprieve from the chaos of your growing platform. Since your last podcast episode, the buzz surrounding “Y/N and Paige” had reached a fever pitch. Fans dissected every word, tone, and pause between you and Paige during her guest appearance, spinning narratives from mere banter. Some took it lightly, treating it like an amusing rivalry, while others speculated wildly about an unspoken connection.

You tried to ignore the noise, but it was impossible to escape the notifications flooding your phone. Clips of the episode went viral, with captions ranging from “This is your sign to ship Y/N and Paige” to “When will Y/N admit she’s obsessed with her?” What started as harmless sports commentary had snowballed into something much bigger—and much messier.

The café door jingled as you stepped in, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. You inhaled deeply, savoring the moment of normalcy, before slipping into line. The barista gave you a knowing smile; you were a regular here, and they didn’t need to ask for your order anymore.

As you waited, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, a familiar voice broke through the din.

“Well, well. If it isn’t my favorite podcaster.”

You turned, startled, and there she was—Paige Bueckers, standing just a few feet away, hands in the pockets of her hoodie. She looked impossibly casual, yet every movement radiated confidence. Her hair was pulled back, and the slightest smirk tugged at her lips, giving her an air of effortless charm.

“Bueckers,” you said, keeping your tone steady despite the flutter in your chest. “Didn’t expect to see you here. Aren’t you supposed to be practicing or something?”

“Recovery day,” she replied with a shrug. “Coach’s orders. But what about you? Hiding out from your adoring fanbase?”

You let out a dry laugh. “Something like that.”

There was a pause, one that felt weighted despite its brevity. Paige glanced toward the counter, then back at you, her expression softening. “Tell you what,” she said, leaning in slightly, her voice dropping just enough to make it feel like a private conversation. “This place is nice, but I know a spot around the corner that makes the best sandwiches in the city. Let me take you there. You look like you could use a break from all the chaos.”

You hesitated. Lunch with Paige? It wasn’t the first time you’d crossed paths, but there was something about this invitation that felt… different.

“Alright,” you said finally, unable to resist the hint of vulnerability in her tone. “Lead the way, Bueckers.”

As you stepped outside, walking side by side, you felt a strange sense of ease settling between you. It was surprising how natural it felt, how the tension that had been building for weeks seemed to melt away with each step.

The sandwich shop Paige led you to was small and tucked away, the kind of place you’d never notice unless someone pointed it out. Inside, it smelled like fresh bread and roasted vegetables, the warm, savory aroma instantly calming your nerves.

Paige held the door open for you, her hand briefly brushing against your shoulder as you stepped inside. You told yourself it was nothing, just a polite gesture, but your heart betrayed you, quickening its pace.

“You’ve been holding out on me,” you teased as you looked around. “This place is a hidden gem.”

“I’m full of surprises,” Paige replied, her grin widening. “Wait until you try the turkey pesto. Life-changing.”

The two of you ordered and found a small table near the window. The conversation started light—sports, favorite foods, the absurdity of social media trends—but quickly delved deeper. Paige was easy to talk to, her quick wit and relaxed demeanor making you forget, if only for a moment, the chaos waiting for you outside.

“So,” she said between bites, her tone casual but her gaze steady. “How’s life in the spotlight treating you?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “It’s… a lot. I didn’t sign up for this whole ‘public figure’ thing. I just wanted to talk about sports, you know? But now, it’s like every little thing I say gets blown out of proportion.”

Paige nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah, I get that. People love to read into things, make it bigger than it is. But you handle it well—you’re honest, and people respect that. It’s why your podcast works.”

“Honesty doesn’t stop them from turning me into a meme,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile.

Paige chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Memes aren’t so bad. Means you��ve made it.” She paused, her expression softening. “But seriously, if it ever gets to be too much… just say the word. I’ll set the record straight.”

Her words hung in the air, heavier than you expected. There was something about the way she said it—earnest, almost protective—that made your chest tighten.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “But I think I’ll survive. Par for the course, right?”

She smiled, a quiet understanding passing between you. For a moment, the world outside the café—the trending hashtags, the speculative headlines, the invasive questions—faded into the background. It was just the two of you, the clatter of plates and the hum of conversation from other diners filling the comfortable silence.

“So,” Paige said, leaning forward slightly, her elbows resting on the table. Her expression was playful, but her tone carried a softness that made your chest tighten. “What’s your go-to escape plan when the world feels a little too loud?”

You blinked at the sudden shift in conversation, caught off guard by the intimacy of the question. “Wow, we’re skipping small talk, huh?” you teased, though there was no bite to your tone.

She shrugged, her lips curving into a knowing smile. “Small talk feels… boring. And besides, I feel like you’re not exactly the type to waste time talking about the weather.”

You tilted your head, considering her for a moment. “Fair enough. My escape plan?” You glanced out the window, thinking. “I usually just… disappear for a while. Shut off my phone, pick a random spot where no one knows me, and let myself breathe.”

“Alone?” Paige asked, her gaze steady, as if she were trying to piece together something about you.

“Most of the time,” you admitted, fidgeting slightly with your fork. “It’s easier that way. No one to ask questions or expect you to explain why you need a break. It’s just… quiet.”

She nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. “I get that. Quiet can be hard to find, though.”

“Especially for someone like you,” you countered, lifting an eyebrow. “How do you handle it? The constant attention, the noise?”

Paige leaned back in her chair, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. “It’s a balancing act, honestly. Some days it feels like I’m thriving, and other days…” She trailed off, her eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. “Other days, I just want to crawl under a rock.”

The honesty in her voice surprised you, and you found yourself leaning in, drawn to the vulnerability she was showing. “So, what’s your escape plan?” you asked softly.

Her lips twitched into a small smile. “When I was a kid, it was basketball. I could lose myself in it for hours. But now…” She shrugged, her smile turning wistful. “Now it’s not that simple. Sometimes it’s music, sometimes it’s a long drive with no destination. And sometimes,” she said, her gaze locking with yours, “it’s just finding someone who gets it and talking to them.”

You felt your breath hitch slightly, the weight of her words settling over you like a warm blanket. “Does that work?”

“Sometimes,” she said simply, her voice quieter now.

The air between you felt charged, but not in an uncomfortable way. It was as though you were both carefully peeling back layers, exposing just enough of yourselves to keep the conversation honest without feeling too vulnerable.

Paige broke the silence first, her grin returning, though it was softer now. “Okay, your turn. What’s your go-to for cheering yourself up when life gets ridiculous?”

You let out a small laugh, grateful for the shift in tone. “Honestly? Binge-watching terrible reality TV. The trashier, the better. There’s something oddly comforting about watching other people’s drama when yours feels overwhelming.”

Paige laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Let me guess—Love Island?”

“Close,” you said, smirking. “The Bachelor franchise. It’s my guilty pleasure.”

She leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Wait, are you serious? You’re out here roasting me on a podcast, and yet you willingly watch people argue over roses?”

“Hey!” you protested, pointing a finger at her. “Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it. It’s fascinating. And besides, it’s nice to watch other people’s lives spiral for a change.”

“Fair point,” Paige conceded, laughing again. “I’ll admit, I’ve seen a couple episodes. Pure chaos.”

“Exactly,” you said, grinning. “Pure, unfiltered chaos. It’s the best kind of escape.”

Paige’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer, her smile softening. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress the warmth creeping into your cheeks. “What, because I like bad TV?”

“No,” she said, her tone gentle but firm. “Because you’re not what I expected.”

The words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. You opened your mouth to respond but found yourself at a loss for words. For once, Paige had managed to throw you off balance, and the realization brought a small, knowing smile to her face.

“Ready to go?” she asked after a moment, her voice casual again as she reached for the check.

You nodded, still processing the shift in the conversation. As the two of you stood to leave, you couldn’t help but glance at her, wondering what, exactly, she had expected—and why you suddenly cared so much.

**********

By the time you returned home, you felt lighter than you had in days. Paige had a way of making things feel simple, even when they weren’t, and for the first time in weeks, you allowed yourself to relax.

That peace lasted all of two hours.

Your phone buzzed incessantly on the table, the screen lighting up with notifications. At first, you ignored it, too tired to deal with whatever fresh drama the internet had conjured. But when the buzzing didn’t stop, curiosity got the better of you.

Opening your social media app, you were greeted by a flood of posts—tweets, Instagram stories, TikTok videos—all revolving around the same thing: a photo of you and Paige at lunch, laughing like you didn’t have a care in the world.

The photo, clearly taken without your knowledge, was candid and undeniably intimate. The way Paige was leaning toward you, her eyes crinkled with laughter, and the way your hand rested on the edge of the table, as if caught mid-gesture—it looked like something straight out of a rom-com.

The captions ranged from playful to outright chaotic:

“Y/N and Paige Bueckers spotted on a secret date? The internet needs answers!”

“Y/N called Paige overrated, and now they’re laughing over sandwiches? We love a plot twist!”

“Enemies to lovers arc confirmed?”

Scrolling through the comments, you saw everything from flame emojis to users jokingly begging for an invite to the wedding. Some fans even made memes comparing the photo to stills from romantic comedies, complete with over-the-top taglines like “From Courtside Critique to Courtside Cuties.”

You tossed your phone onto the couch, groaning. The sheer intensity of the internet's reaction was overwhelming. What was supposed to be a casual lunch now felt like the centerpiece of a media frenzy. Your podcast was supposed to be about sports, not… this.

The doorbell rang, pulling you from your thoughts. You weren’t expecting anyone, and for a second, you wondered if it could somehow be Paige. But when you opened the door, it was your co-host, coffee in hand and an all-too-knowing grin on her face.

“Thought you might need a caffeine boost,” she said, holding out the cup before stepping inside. “Also, I wanted a front-row seat to your existential crisis.”

You groaned again, collapsing onto the couch. “It’s a circus out there.”

She plopped down beside you, pulling out her phone. “Oh, I know. You’re all over my feed. And, can I just say, that picture? Chef’s kiss. The lighting, the smiles—it’s perfect. Whoever took it deserves an award.”

“Not helping,” you muttered, burying your face in a pillow.

“I mean, come on,” she teased. “You have to admit, it’s kinda cute. The queen of hot takes and the queen of basketball, sharing a meal? It’s like the internet’s dream pairing.”

You peeked out from behind the pillow. “It’s not cute. It’s invasive. I didn’t sign up for this.”

She tilted her head, her tone softening. “No, but you kinda did when you started calling Paige out on the pod. You built this dynamic, whether you meant to or not. And now people are invested.”

You sighed, knowing she was right. “It’s just… my podcast was supposed to be my space, you know? I didn’t think it would spiral into this.”

Before your co-host could respond, your phone buzzed again. This time, it was a text—from Paige.

Paige: “So… about that photo. Sorry if it’s causing chaos.”Paige: “Also, we’re trending #2 right now. Just ahead of some celebrity breakup, so I guess congrats to us?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite yourself. Paige had a knack for disarming you with humor, even when you were spiraling.

You: “Yeah, congrats to us. We’re practically internet royalty now.”Paige: “Want me to make a statement? I can clear the air if this is too much.”

You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. The offer was tempting. Paige’s popularity could easily shift the narrative if she addressed the rumors. But a part of you hesitated. Would that make things better or worse?

Your co-host, who had been reading over your shoulder, nudged you. “You should let her say something. It’ll take some heat off you.”

You shook your head. “No, I’ll handle it. Comes with the territory, right?”

Still, you typed back, trying to keep it light: You: “Nah, it’s fine. Let them talk. I’m used to it.”

Paige’s reply came almost immediately: Paige: “Alright, but if you change your mind, let me know. In the meantime… don’t let it stress you out too much. You’re good at this.”

You smiled faintly at the screen, her words oddly reassuring.

By the time evening rolled around, the noise online hadn’t died down, but you were determined to push through it. You set up your recording equipment, deciding to address the situation live for your next episode. If nothing else, it would give you a chance to reclaim some control over the narrative.

Your co-host leaned against the desk, watching you with a raised eyebrow. “So, what’s the plan? Are we diving headfirst into the Paige drama, or are you gonna keep it professional?”

You adjusted the mic, smirking. “Why not both?”

When the livestream started, you dove into your usual banter, easing your audience into the episode. But it didn’t take long before you hit the inevitable topic.

“So, let’s address the elephant in the room,” you said, leaning closer to the mic. “Yes, I had lunch with Paige Bueckers. Yes, someone took a picture. And yes, the internet is apparently losing its collective mind over it.”

Your co-host snorted. “Losing their minds is an understatement.”

You continued, your tone carefully measured. “Look, I get it. Paige and I have this… weird dynamic that people seem to find entertaining. But let’s not get carried away. It was just lunch.”

You paused, glancing at your co-host, who was giving you a look that said really?

“Okay, fine,” you added with a smirk. “It was good lunch. Paige has decent taste in food. I’ll give her that.”

The rest of the episode was a mix of humor and genuine reflection. You acknowledged the frenzy without feeding into it, carefully steering the conversation back to your comfort zone: sports.

When the episode ended, the reactions were immediate, and once again, your mentions lit up. But this time, amidst the chaos, there was a surprising amount of support. Fans praised you for addressing the situation head-on, while others couldn’t resist shipping you and Paige even harder.

And then, just as you were about to log off for the night, another message from Paige popped up:

Paige: “Just listened to the episode. Solid take. But next time, give me a heads-up before you roast my food recommendations on-air.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you typed back: You: “Noted. But no promises.”

Paige: “Fair. By the way, I’m free this weekend if you want to give me a chance to redeem myself. Lunch, round two?”

Your heart skipped a beat, but you played it cool: You: “We’ll see, Bueckers. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Her reply was instant: Paige: “I never do. But I’m annoyingly persistent, so good luck with that.”

You set your phone down, a small smile tugging at your lips. The noise might not die down anytime soon, but for now, it felt… manageable.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind the attention so much anymore.

[corroded-hellfire]

Tiny Dancer - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Summary: It’s your daughter Eliza’s first recital and Eddie couldn’t be prouder

Note: This idea came to me and would not leave me alone until I wrote it 💕

Warnings: older!eddie, dad!eddie

Words: 1.9k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Why did I have to wear a tie?” Luke complains, yanking at his buttoned-up collar. 

Eddie leans forward so he can see Luke around Ryan, who is seated between them.

“Because this is a special occasion. Your sister’s first recital.”

“They’re three-year-olds,” Luke hisses in a whisper, one hand gesturing towards the empty stage. 

“Hey,” Ryan says to his brother, “she cheered louder than anyone for you at your baseball game. You can do this for her.”

Eddie nods at his oldest in thanks. 

Luke turns to you and asks, “Think her hair is still all up in the bun?”

Wrangling your daughter’s dark curls into the ballerina bun on the top of her head had been a massive undertaking. Some spirals were shorter than others, so there were always a few popping out right as you would go to secure the hair with the white bow. It was an immense test of patience to try time and time again all while Eliza became more antsy and less appreciative of you tugging on strands of hair. She ended up with enough hairspray on her little head to make her hair as hard as a helmet. 

“It’s out of my hands now,” you say, wiping your hands and holding them up in defeat. “If Ms. Benson wants to deal with a curl going rogue, that’s on her.”

The lights dim and eight little ballerinas walk onstage, all with hands on their hips, poofy pink tutus flaring out just below them. Their instructor, Ms. Benson, follows them out to make sure they’re all in the spots they should be. 

Eliza is the third ballerina from the left, and she looks so precious you think your heart might burst. Her white tights and ballet slippers somehow aren’t stained even though they’d been in your house longer than forty-eight hours. The pink leotard and tutu give her the regal air of a princess, though that might just be Eliza’s own aura. She’s nothing if not captivatingly glamorous. It looks like all of her unruly curls are still on their best behavior, but it would be hard to see one or two offenders that sprang loose from the audience anyway.

You peek over at Eddie and see him beaming as he looks at your little girl up onstage. He feels your gaze and turns his head to meet your eyes. The pride on his face makes your heart melt against your ribs. Eliza hasn’t even done anything yet and Eddie is over the moon.

“She’s so beautiful,” Eddie whispers.

“Like her dad,” you reply, giving him a wink. 

He playfully rolls his eyes, but you don’t miss the touch of pink that colors his cheeks. Luke puts his hands on his stomach and pretends to gag. Eddie thunks him on the back of the head. 

Ms. Benson finishes her inspection and gives the girls a thumbs up. She scurries off stage, all ballerinas still with hands on hips. None of them can truly stay still, though. A few are swaying, one is twisting from side to side, and Eliza shakes one little leg, her knee bouncing up and down. You’re unsure if it’s due to nerves or anticipation. 

A few moments later, the speakers above the stage crackle to life. The opening notes of music tinkle and the voice of young Shirley Temple singing On The Good Ship Lollipop floats through the air. 

Eliza and her fellow dancers start to move, tapping the slipper on one foot on the stage in front of them, then switching to the other foot. It’s hard to tell what foot they’re all supposed to be on, since it’s split about fifty-fifty with what foot each girl is using. 

On The Good Ship Lollipop

It's a sweet trip to a candy shop

Where bon-bons play

On the sunny beach of Peppermint Bay

Arms go above Eliza’s head as she spins around, little feet stomping around in a small circle rather than spinning on one foot. Once she’s facing forward again, her arms come down to shoulder level and her knees bend and straighten, bend and straighten, as the ballerinas bounce. Again, all girls are going at different times and speeds, so it’s hard to know on which notes they’re supposed to be up or down on. 

Lemonade stands everywhere

Crackerjack bands fill the air

And there you are

Happy landing on a chocolate bar

Next, it’s one hand back on the hip and one hand waving out to the crowd as the dancers rock from side to side. You specifically remember Eliza practicing this move at home and she kept reiterating how her toes needed to be pointed on the foot she wasn’t balancing on. Only two other girls have their toes pointed at the appropriate times, so you can tell they didn’t take this step as seriously as your daughter. 

The moves of the eight tiny dancers are clunky and mismatched, which makes the performance all the cuter. When they all walk to the right on tippy toes, they’re at varying heights, some more flat-footed than others. On the march back to the left, one girl stomps so hard you can hear the clacking of her slippers. 

With arms out, the girls do one more twirl and then take their bows. 

The crowd breaks into applause and the small girls smile, appreciating the praise for their performances. The ballerina farthest on the right jumps up and down in excitement and the one on Eliza’s left waves furiously to her family. But Eliza stays in her final position, grinning from ear to ear as she looks out at you and her guys. 

“Yay, Eliza!” Luke cheers. 

Ms. Benson comes out, leads the girls in one more bow, then ushers them all off. The applause is still going.

“There’s my ballerina!” Eddie grins and catches Eliza as she runs over and leaps into his arms. He presses a smacking kiss to her cheek and squeezes her in his arms. “Mwah!”

“I did good?” she asks as the other girls reunite with their families all around you. 

“You were wonderful,” you tell her, leaning in to give her a kiss on the opposite cheek. “Did you hear me cheer for you?” Luke asks.

“Yes,” Eliza says with a giggle. “So loud!”

“Of course, it’s Luke,” Ryan says. He ignores Luke’s jab to his ribs as he reaches up and presents his sister with a bouquet of white flowers or different varieties.

Eliza beams and takes the crinkling plastic wrapping from him. She leans in to sniff the flowers and giggles as a few brush her nose.

“I got flowers!”

“For being the best ballerina ever,” you tell her.

“I love! Can you hold ‘em, Daddy?”

“Of course, my little ballerina.” He takes the bouquet from her with his free hand.

Ryan pulls on the bottom ruffle of his little sister’s tutu. “You look like a pretty poof ball.”

“Mama, can you take bow out?” Eliza asks.

“Sure thing, sweet pea.”

Eddie bends down a bit so you can see the top of her head. As gently as you can, you unwind the bow from her hair, wincing when you accidentally tug on it. Tough little girl that she is though, Eliza doesn’t whine.

Once you get it out, you do your best to stifle a laugh. It’s not good enough though, a snort of laughter breaking through your hand covering your mouth. Luke and Ryan laughing as well doesn’t help, either. 

“What?” Eliza asks with a pout.

“Sweetie,” Eddie says, also with a small chuckle, “I think Mommy used so much hairspray on you that your hair is stuck up in a bun all by itself.”

She gasps and her hands go to the top of her head. She feels around the stiff hair, moving backwards to the curly bun that hasn’t fallen one little bit since you took the bow out. Short fingers inspect the bun and Eliza turns to look at you with panicked eyes.

“Mama!” she cries. “My hair!”

“It’s okay, Liza,” you tell her, not able to help a small giggle coming out with your words. You pat her back soothingly. “As soon as you take a bath, it’ll be good as new.”

Your words visibly calm her. Her shoulders lower, though she still keeps her hands up on her hair. Now that she knows it isn’t stuck that way, she’s able to find the humor in it. Small giggles turn into loud laughter as she begins to shake her head from side to side like a wet dog getting out of the bath. Her hair hardly moves, only wobbling a little when she really whips her head around. 

“Do you want me to put your bow back in since we’re going out to eat?” you ask.

Eliza gasps. “We are?”

“Yep! Wherever you want,” Luke says, but adds under his breath, “despite my begging.”

“Yes, bow please.”

“What do you want to eat?” Ryan asks as you secure the soft white bow back around her stiff bun.

“Mmm…pancakes!”

“Ooh, breakfast for dinner,” Luke says, nodding his head in approval. “Nice choice. I’ll gladly wear my fancy schmancy suit while eating a waffle.”

“Okay, you can take off the tie now,” Eddie says. “I don’t feel like washing syrup out of it.”

“You don’t feel like washing syrup out of it?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at your husband.

Eliza pats her dad’s shoulder three times, as if she didn’t already have his attention.

“Mama does wash.”

“You tell him, kid,” Ryan says to his little sister. 

“Why you taking the girls’ side?” Eddie asks as you all begin to head towards the doors.

Ryan looks over at his little brother who is wrestling to get his tie off over his head. It’s currently stuck around his eyes and Luke just keeps tugging on it. 

“I’m not on his side,” Ryan says, looking back towards his dad. 

“Well, help him!” Eddie scolds Ryan.

“I gotcha, Luke,” you say.

A few strategic pulls and you have the knot undone, the green tie falling away into your hand.

“Thanks,” Luke says as he reaches up to rub his nose. “How’d you learn to undo ties?”

“Taking dad’s off,” Ryan says with a smirk.

Both you and Eddie whip your head towards Ryan with wide eyes. Luckily, both of his siblings are too young to get his innuendo. The further he gets into his teenage years, the more subtly inappropriate comments he makes.

“Dad doesn’t wear ties a lot,” Luke says.

“You’re right, Luke,” you say, ruffling his curls. Then you step closer to Ryan and wrap your arm around his head, your hand closing in over his mouth. “And you need to watch yourself, Mr. Teenager.”

Ryan mumbles something beneath your hand and the muffled sound makes Eliza laugh. When you still don’t move your hand, Ryan licks it, and you yank it back. Eliza laughs even harder at that. 

“You think it’s funny?” you tease, wiping your saliva-coated hand off on your daughter’s tight-clad leg. She squirms in Eddie’s arms, her legs kicking and almost catching him in the crotch.

“Ewww!” Eliza squeals. 

“I don’t have germs,” Ryan says.

“Yes, you do,” Luke and Eliza say at the same time. 

“Can I eat at a different restaurant?” Ryan asks.

“Nope,” you say, looping your arm through his. “You’re stuck with us.”

“Yep!” Eliza echoes. “You’re stuck!”

[lxndonorris]

his lucky charm - Lando Norris

Y/N x Lando Norris Theme: Smutish, light touching you're Lando's lucky charm for qualifying x word count: 1440+ taglist: @game-set-canet gif by me open for requests, reader or ships welcome :)

The bustling Suzuka circuit hums with anticipation as the Japanese Grand Prix approaches its crucial phase—qualifying. Dressed in the vibrant Mclaren team shirt and cap, courtesy of Lando's team, you find yourself standing in the heart of the Mclaren garage, surrounded by the familiar hum of engines and the frentic energy of race day preparations. 

Your heart races just as fast with excitement as the Mclaren standing a few feet away from you as you watch Lando prepare for qualifying, his presence commanding attention even amidst the chaos of the garage.

You approach Lando's Mclaren, tracing its cold outline with your fingers, completely lost in your thoughts, when hands run along your waistline, pulling you back into a warm embrace. Right away, the familiar scent of Lando's cologne gives him away as he rests his head on your shoulder, humming right into your ear.

Turning around, you smile at the sight of him wearing his racing gear. A surge of admiration washes over you. The sleek lines of his racing suit accentuate his athletic physique, highlighting every contour and muscle beneath the fabric. He looks every bit like the confident and skilled driver that he is. 

His curls frame his face perfectly, adding a touch of youthful charm to his rugged appearance. The hint of stubble along his jawline only serves to enhance his allure, giving him an air of casual confidence that is utterly irresistible.

There is something undeniablely magnetic about seeing him in his element, his passion and determination shining through in every movement and gesture.

"How do you like my baby?" He tilts his head teasingly and lets his hand glide across the car as well, following your prior movements easily.

"Just as pretty as its driver." You smirk, a rush of warmth flooding through you as you trace your fingers lightly over his chest, feeling his firm muscles even though his suit.

Lost in the moment, you almost forget where you are, the world around you melting away as you stand in your own little bubble of intimacy. The scent of his cologne envelops you, a heady mixture of excitement and desire lingering in the air. 

With a tender kiss, Lando prepares himself for the challenge ahead, donning his helmet and gloves with practiced precision.

"Good luck." You say when he approaches you one last time before jumping into the car. With an appreciative nod, he climbs into the cockpit of his Mclaren, and you can't help but feel a surge of pride swell within you. 

With a headset in hand, you tune in to the team's communications, eager to follow Lando's progress. The voice of his race engineer crackles to life, providing updates and encouragement as he navigates the twists and turns of the Suzuka circuit.

With each lap, your heartbeat matches the rhythm of the roaring engines, and your breath catches in your throat as you follow Lando's progress with bated anticipation. And then, the moment of truth arrives.

"P3!" comes the triumphant cry over the radio, followed by Lando's own celebration—a moment of pure elation, a testiment to his passion and skill. The exhilaration in his voice is palpable as he giggles through the radio again; his joy infectious and uplifting. In that moment, you feel an overwhelming sense of happiness wash over you, knowing that you might have played a small part in his success.

As he emerges from the car, his face flushed with the thrill of earning part of the second row, you watch with admiration as he celebrates with his mechanics, his confidence and self-assurance radiating from every pore. And then he turned to you before taking his helmet and balaclave off, revealing a bright smile and his eyes filled with an unmistakable spark of affection.

With a swagger in his step, he approaches you, pulling you into him, relishing the warmth of his embrace, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat echoing your own. Adrenaline and excitement surge through your bodies, binding you together in a shared moment of triumph.

"You're my lucky charm," he whispers huskily, his words sending a shiver down your spine. 

Blushing, you steady yourself against his frame while his hands are on your waist, holding you close.

You can sense a shift in his demeanor—the excitement of qualifying ignited a fire within him, and his touch feels more possessive and urgent than before. As you stroke his firm chest, you feel the tension in his muscles, his racing suit stretched taut against his body.

His breath is ragged against your ear as he whispers again, his voice even huskier and rougher with desire. "You have no idea how much I was thinking of you during the last lap. It made me so...hard."

You feel a rush of heat flow through you at his words, a delicious thrill coursing through your veins. You let your hand roam his chest once more before you let it wander down his body. When he bends his hip against the palm of your hand, his desire now firm against your touch, you let out a quick sigh, swallowing in a dry throat.

"I can't stop thinking about you," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your hand on my skin, it drives me crazy."

"Lando." You growl, his words sending shivers down your spine. The intensity of his emotions radiates from his entire being; his desire is tangible in every glance, every touch.

But even amidst the intensity of your shared desire, there is a tenderness in his touch, a depth of emotion that transcends the physical.

"You're unbelievable." You stroke his chest again, and you feel the rumble of soft growls vibrating against your fingertips. You can't help but smile, delighting in the primal response elicited by your gentle touch. 

His reaction, however, only serves to fuel the flames of desire burning within your belly, igniting a passionate intensity that pulses between you.

"It's true, though." He purrs happily, and you run a hand through his hair, "I felt you so close; it was amazing." Feeling the soft strands of his messy hair beneath your fingers, you can't resist running your hand through it again and again, relishing the tousles feel against your skin. His hair, disheveled from the intensity of qualifying, only adds to his irresistible charm.

"So I helped you?" You breathe as you caress his cheek, tracing the contours of his face with gentle strokes. 

With a soft smile, Lando leans into your touch, his eyes reflecting the depth of his emotions. "You always do." He smiles warmly.

As your hand lingers on his chest, a mechanic's voice breaks through the moment, reminding us of Lando's obligation to attend the qualifying celebration with Max and Checo.

You feel a pang of disappointment at the interruption, wishing for just a few more minutes, but you know that duty calls him, and Lando earned the right to bask in the glory of his achievement alongside his fellow drivers.

With a reluctant sigh, you withdraw your hand, watching as Lando exchanges a quick glance with me, his eyes filled with an apology and a promise of more time together later. You nod in understanding, offering him a reassuring smile as he turns to follow the mechanic toward the others.

As you sit among the audience, watching the press conference unfold, your heart swells with pride, seeing Lando bask in the attention he so rightfully deserves. His confidence and harisma shine through as he fields questions from the media, his responses poised and articulate.

But amidst the flurry of activity, your gaze keeps returning to Lando, drawn to him like a magnet. And as your eyes meet, a silent understanding passes between you. 

You can't help but smile as you notice Lando's unconscious gesture, his hand drifting to his chest in a subtle yet unmistakable motion. It is as if he is reaching out for you, seeking the comfort and warmth of your touch even in the midst of the conference.

All of him is longing for one thing: you.

Then, a question from the press jolts him back into reality. His gaze falters as he struggles to recall the question, a hint of embarrassment coloring his cheeks.

With a playful giggle, he apologized for his momentary lapse, his charm quickly winning over the crowd once more as he answers the question with ease.

But as he glances back at you, a mischievous twinkle dances in his eyes, and he can#t help but bite his lip. 

With a knowing smile, you return his gaze, your eyes filled with a mixture of love and desire., knowing that this is far from over.

[zarnzarn]

1/2/3/4

reverse Odyssey au where polites is still on the ships when Poseidon arrives, and that last bit is enough to push Odysseus to beg him to stop, to spare the men he spent ten long years fighting hard and bitter to save. 593 men is no less amount after all, not for a small island like Ithaca, only three generations old. he'll do anything, anything at all, blind him, torture him, kill him- just let his men go; they were not the ones to blame.

Poseidon considers, staring down at the king with the odd grey eyes that he knew the origin of. Athena would be furious, after all- so why not take away the one thing her favoured pet was known for?

the crew rushes towards their captain, their king, as shouting emerges from the other boats, as he hits the deck convulsing, grasping at his throat. the cries of his men rend the air as his legs melt into oceanspray, remerging as a fish's tail, Odysseus gasping for air wildly, his tongue a mess of mangled flesh on the main deck, unable to talk or breathe.

they have no choice but to pick him up and tip him into the sea, and they watch in horror as he falls beneath the waves and with a flick of the tail, disappears.

six hundred men chase their king down, following the odd silver glint that appears once in a while above the blue water, following the strange cursed monster that Elepnor sees when he falls drunk into the ocean one day. follow him all the way back to Ithaca, where the people gather on the shore to cheer their arrival.

telemachus is all of ten and untameable at the return of his father's ships, running past the guards and the priests to the dock, where the soldiers and heroes are all setting down the ramps, strangely quiet, unsmiling in the face of ten years of gore and bloodshed being done. Penelope catches up to him, laughing as she cranes her head up, scanning the ships to see which one- which one had-

she only has to time to see euroluchus' shame-filled tears and polites guilty devastation, feeling her heart slowly sink to the ground, when there's suddenly a splash and an outburst of screams and propped up on the dock is a man with a fish's tail and familiar curls and razor-sharp teeth and eyes that are solid grey. the soldiers cry out in horror and thunder down the ramps to them as the monster reaches out- and Penelope can't do anything, frozen, as it reaches out and places a webbed hand with deadly claws on her son's cheek, caressing almost; and her breath catches when it looks back up to her, and she knows the face as well as her own, knows the grief and fear and knows it is her husband-

Then the pounding footsteps from the closest ships and the guards behind reach them, and Penelope only has time enough to scream to stay their weapons, already shoving Telemachus behind her and reaching out to shield off any spears or arrows from battle-strung men who'd shoot first and ask questions later-

Instead she only feels the brush of cold skin under his fingertips for the briefest of moments and then she's caught up in a fisher's net, tangled and alone. More nets are thrown, men crying out for their captain with desperation and fear, Polites running straight past her and leaping off the dock to swim after him-

But her husband is a descendant of Hermes, and Odysseus is gone.

Penelope listens to the story that night and does not cry, sitting straight-backed in the face of her family sobbing around her, of the five hundred and ninety-three men staring at her with grief and guilt alike, of being the only widow in the kingdom. Pets Telemachus' wild hair and remembers his father's, and thinks.

"You have told me much," She says finally. "But I'm still to hear a single, solid plan."

The room rustles as all the heads swing to her.

"Plan?" Eurylochus says finally. Anger burns as soon she looks to him, but she pushes it down firmly- rage will not win her anything.

"Yes. A plan," she says, "To bring my husband back home."

Telemachus unfolds at her feet and stares up at her with a hopeful grin, echoed slowly on the faces of the men around the room. Penelope smiles back.

"My husband spent ten years fighting for his people to make it back home," She proclaims. "Let's wait at least that long before we give up on him, yes?"

The answering cheer shakes the walls of the palace and echoes through the streets of Ithaca.

[ozai-the-bonsai]

Like Lovers Do

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daemon would dream about marrying each other before both of you became victims of political marriages, very much against your wills: he was sent to the Vale and you to the Riverlands. However, when your lord husband passes away, you return to King’s Landing, only to find out that your childhood sweetheart is now wearing a crown of his own.

A/N: I am finally back for the Daemon x reader fics, you lovely people! I hope you still remember me after that loooooooooong gap... Anyways, I once again wrote too much and couldn't even get to the point I was heading - I intended this story to be a one-shot but it seems I will be writing another chapter for the spicy stuff ;) I hope you enjoy it! (I am also open to any Daemon requests you might have for me!)

Warnings: I am not a native English speaker, strong language

Taglist: @throughgoeshamilton @mirandastuckinthe80s @xicesam @mariamyousef702 @eddiemadmunson @dont-try-pesticide @sweetybuzz25 @hc-geralt-23 @schniiipsel @ttae-yong @syrma-sensei @asiludida164 @kaitieskidmore1 @irmavanity-blog @pax-2735 @trickrtreatart @shanzeyxsyed @random-human02 @scarwicht @xcallmetaniax @instabull @niiight-dreamerrrr @my-dark-prince @stargaryenx @abaker74 @babywolff @sonnensplitter @bi-narystars @softtina

You had almost forgotten the way his voice sounded.

Fourteen long years had it been, the last time you were given the privilege to let your eyes wander on his handsome face as long as they desired.

You had expected time to have changed you in all the possible ways anyone could ever imagine, the years you had spent at the Riverlands being no different than a bird in a cage did harden you to your very core; however, the moment his sweet voice reached your ears again, you felt yourself melting just as you did when you were six-and-ten.

For the first time in fourteen years; for the first time after you had left King's Landing, you were feeling the warmth in your heart again, waking up from its deep slumber, melting the frost that used to be your heart.

At first, you hadn't even believed it when you heard the whispers roaming the castle about the return of the Rogue Prince.

"Prince Daemon is back," the whispers had said, "and he is wearing a crown."

King of the Narrow Sea? You had thought to yourself, following the crowds into the Throne Room. Is he going to challenge his brother now? Have the years turned him completely mad?

And now, you were watching him, King of the Narrow Sea, give up his crown to King Viserys.

He really is back.

After the ceremony in the Throne Room was over, the Royals and the Small Council moved to the Godswood to celebrate the Prince's victory over the Triarchy. You weren't quite sure whether it was expected of you to join them; however, upon seeing the way your father looked at you, you decided to follow them. Your heart was racing as if it was trying to break free from your chest.

Your father's position in King Jaehaerys’ and after him King Viserys’ Small Council had allowed you an easy, enjoyable life within the walls of the Red Keep, allowing you to share the early years of your youth with Prince Daemon, growing up alongside him.

Until he decided it was time for you to marry a rich lord and be shipped to the Riverlands, of course. You had known long before your father made his decision that you would, sooner or later, have to marry someone - preferably some lord from one of the Great Houses.

However, you had expected your father to come to you with this delicate matter first, instead of shaking hands with the lords as if he was doing some kind of trade.

"I do not care about some stupid lord in the Riverlands," you had told your father upon hearing the terrible news about your future. "I am going to marry Prince Daemon, Father. How can you even begin to compare him with any other man in the Seven Kingdoms?"

"Prince Daemon is going to the Vale," your father had responded in a cold voice. It made you realize he had wished for you to become the Prince's wife perhaps even more than you yourself had. "It has been decided that he is to take Lady Rhea Royce as his wife." Upon seeing the tears beginning to form in your eyes, your father had held your hands. "I am sorry, my sweet girl, but there is no other way."

Even though you had known all these years, deep down, that your father's only wish was for you to have an easy, wealthy life (and at the meanwhile keeping his good connections, and establishing relations with the strong houses), the anger you had been feeling never really faded away.

Yes, you had led a wealthy life for the last fourteen years; however, being the second wife of a (compared to your six-and-ten self) fairly old lord had taken all the happiness you had ever known from you. It was almost as if you had forgotten how to enjoy life...

After arriving at the Godswood - since the Red Keep was enormous, it always took ages to get from one place to another - you too poured yourself a glass of red wine as you stood beside your father. King Viserys and some other members of the Small Council were talking with Prince Daemon, mostly about the war against the Triarchy.

Somehow, it seemed like Daemon didn't even notice you were there, maybe he didn't really recognise you after all those years - you couldn't say.

Until King Viserys saw you standing next to your father, the Master of Coins.

The King's face lightened with a bright smile as he turned his eyes to his younger brother, placing his left hand on Daemon's shoulder. "Brother, you surely remember Lord Beesbury's lovely daughter," the King spoke with a delightful tone. "She has, too, recently returned to King's Landing."

The world froze around the two of you when Daemon's purple eyes met yours. Every other person standing there with you faded away, and all the other sounds melted into silence until it was just you and him, the same memory playing in front of your eyes.

"I am going to make you my Queen one day," Daemon whispered in your ear. "I promise you."

You were out at the Godswood, sitting under the moonlight - both of you had to be around sixteen, it was shortly before the calamity that was your marriage.

You raised an eyebrow in his direction. "So you plan on winning me and the Iron Throne?" You asked him, only to earn a cocky smirk.

"You would be surprised to see what I am capable of, my Lady."

I have seen what you are capable of, my Prince, you thought as you came back to reality. You were breathing heavily. Capable of winning a war without the support of the Crown, earning your very own crown - but you still gave it up to your brother.

To prevent the awkward silence from getting any longer, Daemon quickly wore his famous smirk as he nodded at the King. "Of course, how could I not," he spoke with a charming aura surrounding him. Taking a step towards you, the Prince held your right hand gently and brought it to his lips. "It has been many years, my Lady." The Prince told you. "Though, it is somewhat unfair that the years have not touched your beauty, not in the slightest."

The poker face, which only showed a humble smile fitting of a lady of your position, would never give away that you were, in fact, dying inside. Feeling his lips and his touch for the very first time in fourteen years had hit you like a wall of bricks.

"You flatter me, my Prince," you spoke with your best I-am-a-noble-lady tone. "Congratulations on your victory."

Before continuing the conversation with his brother and the other Lords, Daemon gave you a small nod - only you realised that he had allowed his eyes to linger on your face longer than they needed to.

[Time Skip}

"I wasn't expecting to see you here again, after all those years."

Hearing his velvet voice, you raised your head to look at Daemon, who was standing to your right. Fixing your silver dress and crossing one leg over the other, you waited for him to continue speaking.

"Why aren't you at the Rivenlands?"

You raised an eyebrow at the Prince as you responded while mimicking the same cocky tone he always used. "Why haven't you been at the Vale all those years?"

The edge of Daemon's lips curled upwards as he shook his head, he was wearing a red, long-armed tunic under his long, black cloak - proudly carrying the colours of his House. "Your attitude hasn't changed even in the slightest, love."

You rolled your eyes at him, keeping your attitude, not letting it falter under the heavy weight of the love your heart still carried for him. Of course, it would have been a lot easier to give into your heart's whispers and welcome him with arms wide open; however, you had grown overmuch furious with him over the years.

First and foremost, he had broken off every damn contact with you at an instant as soon as you had left King's Landing. You haven't heard from Daemon for fourteen years. News and gossip about his doings had reached your ears, of course, but not from Daemon himself.

And second, it had hurt you too fucking much when you saw he had done nothing to fight for your love. As the Prince, he could have had more of a say in the matter than you, but all he had done was tell you goodbye and disappear into the night. That was the last you had seen of him, fourteen years ago.

At first, you had thought that perhaps, Daemon had found the idea of marrying Lady Rhea Royce more appealing than marrying you. Until the news had reached the Riverlands about the Rogue Prince's failed marriage - not long after, he had returned to King's Landing, never to visit the Vale ever again.

Rhea Royce had never been what Daemon desired, and apparently, you too - else, he would have at least tried to find a way to arrange something, anything.

Placing your hands on your lap, you asked. "Can I be of further assistance to you, my Prince?"

"You can start by providing me with an answer, my Lady," Daemon said, arching an eyebrow in your direction. "Why did you return to King's Landing? Has your lord husband got a place in the Small Council now?"

"He has passed away," you spoke with a low voice while playing with your fingers. "A few months ago."

The Prince licked his lower lip. "I would wish to offer you my condolences, love," he spoke, "but I have never liked the sight of that cunt."

Your eyes widened with shock upon hearing his words, you hissed between your teeth. "Seven hells, Daemon!" The Prince shrugged in a careless manner. "Show at least some respect to the dead!"

"Will you be staying here?" he asked, earning a nod from you. "Why not stay at the Riverlands?"

This time, you turned your eyes away - his intense gaze was making you feel dizzy. "There is nothing for me there, at the Riverlands. My late husband's eldest nephew holds the Lord title now." Taking a deep breath, you leaned forward to pour yourself some wine. "You see, we didn't have any children to inherit my late husband's position, hence there was no more need for me."

Upon feeling Daemon's hand closing on top of yours, you quickly raised your head to look at him. Gently, the Prince took the carafe from your hands to pour you a glass of wine. With slow movements, he handed you the glass.

"I thought the whole idea behind you marrying that old man was to provide him with heirs," Daemon spoke, his purple eyes lighting with curiosity. He didn't even explicitly ask about the reason behind the failure but you could easily read it from the way he looked.

"We did try, for years, but..." Taking a moment, you took a big sip from your wine. "He could have tried with a dozen other women for another ten years and it still wouldn't have changed anything."

Daemon pursed his lips upon understanding the meaning behind your words. "I see, this explains why he didn't have any heirs from his first marriage, too." You nodded. "Good riddance, should I say now? At least you are free from that burden of yours."

"As if you cared about me or my burden," you snorted. Upon seeing the confused look inside his eyes, you first drank your half-empty glass - all at once - and then stood up. Raising your head, you looked Daemon in the eye, your faces standing dangerously close to each other. "It has been fourteen fucking years, Daemon," you spoke with a low voice but still, your fury could be heard in every word. "And not one fucking raven from you. You just walked away from my life, as if I meant nothing to you!"

Towards the end, your tone tended to become higher, thus you took a deep breath to keep yourself under control. From the corner of your eye, you could see Queen Alicent and your father taking a curious look in your direction.

With his left hand, Daemon held you firmly on your right wrist as he whispered, looking down at you. "You meant everything to me," he put emphasis on each word. "Don't you dare act as if you don't know it."

Your chest brushed against his with every breath, you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. At that very moment, the only thing you wanted was for Daemon to push you against the stone wall behind you and kiss you until you couldn't remember your own name anymore.

With slow movements, Daemon leaned into your ear, his warm breath brushing against your neck. You didn't even realise you were pressing your lips against each other - your breaths were heavy, your head felt dizzy and you slowly got drunk with his smell surrounding you.

"Do you have any idea," the Prince whispered in your ear, his voice full of sex appeal. You could melt right then and there, inside his arms. "How many nights I have spent, thinking about you?"

Back then, when you were both young and in love, Daemon had never touched you other than sharing small kisses (and rarely not-so-small kisses) for you wanted to wait until marriage.

In retrospect, you believed your younger self to have been too naive and, well, young - after seeing one could in fact do whatever they desired as long as it was discrete enough.

Now, all the lust and desire you both had been bottling up for years came to the surface.

Holding onto the last bits of your will, you took a step back, putting some visible distance between Daemon and yourself - so that you could think clearly once more.

"Then why," you asked, your voice sounding weaker than you wanted it to. "Why did you disappear from my life?"

The Prince cast a quick look at the curious people around you - some of the council members seemed kind of interested in your conversation with Daemon since they were sending curious looks in your direction every other second.

Muttering something under his breath - he was probably cursing at the nosiness of the people - Daemon quickly put on one of his most charming smiles. "Perhaps the lady would like to grant me the honour of dining with her this evening," he spoke with his velvet-like voice as he took your hand and brought it to his soft lips. The mild wind was causing his silver hair to sway ever so gently. "Where we can discuss further, as long as she likes."

Your heart skipped a beat.

Of course, you knew what his true intention was. This invitation was more than just a dinner where you could both scream at each other about the fourteen years you have lost - it was also to make up for all that time.

Your brain was shouting at you, telling you that you were making a big mistake - the Prince was still married, even though his marriage had been a bigger failure than yours - but your desires were stronger.

"I would love to, my Prince." The words left your lips before you could even think.

Daemon winked at you before leaving Godswood. "I will be waiting for you in my chambers, love."

[pinejayy]

╰➤ This is Goodbye...

featuring: trafalgar law

summary: law knew the dangers of being in a relationship, but he dread the day when your life was going to be put in danger...and when that day comes around he's shocked..not wanting to hurt you ever again he decideds to put an end to things...

warnings: angst!! established relationship, law is kind distance, blood mentioned , getting stabbed mentioned, law says some mean things in the end, break up..

✦•··········• 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃 •··········•✦

Law knew the dangers of being in relationship, he knew the dangers of his life and what it brings to the people around him. But when he saw Bepo carrying you body...he couldn't move...this is his fault. He is supposed to protect you from the dangers of the world but he couldn't...

......

At the moment the Hearts Pirates were in a new island gathering supplies, while Law stayed back on the Polar Tang to finish paperwork, he told them he'll join them once he's done with his work. You tried staying behind with your boyfriend but Law didn't like that idea.

"You know… it's not fair for the others that you’re not bothering helping out." He mumbles, not looking up from his paperwork.

"Aw! Come on Law! I just want to spend time with my boyfriend." You couldn't help but pout at his words. "And I'm sure the Crew won't mind." Walking closer to him, standing next to him. Leaning down to where he was sitting and you began placing small kisses along his neck. "You know we have the ship to ourselves, you know what that means."

Law grumbles and shrugs you off. Basically shooing you away. "Come on Y/N-ya I'm trying to work here." He still didn't bother to look at you, he was too focused on his work.

'Do Pirates even have Paperwork?' You think to yourself. ‘What kind of paperwork does he even do?’

"Right...work." Mumbling and you stood up, your voice sounded defeated. Which made Law sighs and he puts the pen down, and his eyes finally meet yours.

"Come on, you know my duty as a Captain comes first. I love and appreciate you but I can't drop something I'm doing just to please you." He began saying, and he saw the frown and disappointment on your face grow even more. To which he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Please, don't take my words the wrong way."

You look away, trying not to cry. You didn't want to make this worse for him. "I know...but it's been awhile since we've had alone time and us time. I know your duties as a Captain comes first, but I'm your partner. And you need to start acting like it because right now you're doing a terrible job at it." You say, mumbling the last part.

To which Law eyes darken as he stares into your eyes. "Excuse me? I'm doing a terrible job at being a so called boyfriend." And he stood up, his tall frame towering over you. "Would a terrible boyfriend deal with your constant whining and constant annoying clingy attitude." Scoffing at you, and you were about to open your mouth to speak but he quickly beat you to that. "Would a terrible boyfriend give you expensive gifts, a roof over your head, a bed to sleep on and affection?"

"I...no....sorry I didn't mean to say that, I'm sorry it just slipped out. It's just been awhile since we've been on a date or something like that..." You began to ramble, your voice cracking slightly. Which made Law sigh heavily and he took a step closer and he grabbed your chin so you could look him in the eye.

"Look.... I can admit I've been distant-"

"Very distant!" You spoke up, cutting him off mid sentence and he tightened the grip on your chin slightly.

"As I was saying, I know I've been distant but if it means that much to you we can go on date later on." He said, and to which your face immediately lit up. "Really!?"

Law couldn't help but melt slightly as he saw your face light up. Letting go of your chin he nodded. "But on one condition. You need to help the crew gather supplies and what not. Now please get going, I still have paperwork to finish." He said and sat back down on his chair and went back to his work.

To which you smile slightly, and you lean in and place a gentle kiss along his check. "If you say so Captain. I'll see you soon." You teased slightly and soon after you walked out of his office which left him alone with his thoughts.

Now the more he thinks about it he has been distant with you. No wonder your needy attitude has been through the roof lately. Sighing to himself, he went back to work. Maybe if he could finish faster he can help the crew out and after that you two could go on a date and get that needed alone time.

......

Law spent the next hour in his office alone, he was about to finish until his office door swung open and he was about to yell at the person that didn't bother to knock but when he looked up he saw Penguin panting and trying to catch his breath. "Captain! Trouble!"

"What!? What happened!" Law yelled out and he stood up and walked over to Penguin.

"While the crew was gathering supplies, Y/N was with Bepo. Both of them were gathering medical supplies and well....uh a group of low life pirates jumped Y/N when Bepo wasn't with them!"

"WHAT! WHERE ARE THEY! HOW BAD IS IT!"

Before Penguin could get a word in Law ran past him, and ran to the deck and there he saw you. Bepo was carrying your unconscious body, you seemed to be covered in blood and bruises.

"I'm sorry Captain! This is all my fault! I didn't mean to leave Y/N alone! But those men came out of nowhere and jumped them!" He began to cry softly, and held your body close. "I'm sorry." The poor bear began to cry even more, Law looked at Bepo.

"Bring her to the infirmary." He said, and with that Bepo quickly nodded and they rushed over to the infirmary and once in the room. Bepo placed you on one of the beds.

Law didn't waste no time to check on you, first he checked on your breathing. Which was a bit slow but other than that normal, then he checked all over your body to see if you had any broken bones and so far nothing. Until his hand brushed against your side and he felt something wet, looking at his hand he saw blood and immediately lifted your shirt and you had a deep cut. Most likely a stab wound.

He didn't waste no time to patch you up. And the more he looked you he felt dread...your beautiful face was brusied up. You were laying here bleeding out.

Why didn't he just go with you in the first place? Why did he have to stay back to finish his work! Why didn't he just allow you to stay in his office! All these negative thoughts were running around his head. But he quickly pushed those thoughts to the side and paid attention to you.

And after what seemed like hell for him, he finally patched you up. He made sure to wrap your side well. He cleaned all the cuts you had around your body.

He just sat besides you, holding your hand. Bepo was there. He didn't want to leave your side. "I'm sorry Captain...this is my fault." And to which Law immediately cut him off before he could say anything more.

"No, it's not your fault. It probably happened so quick. Please don't blame yourself, and take a look at Y/N-ya, they are safe and well.”

Bepo frowns and wipes his tears and nods. "Okay Captain.. please inform me once they wake up please."

Law nodded. "I will. Thank you Bepo." He said and with that Bepo walked out which left Law alone with you. He looked at your body, and frowns. He couldn't help but blame one person for this.

Him...it was all his fault. If only he could be there for you. In your time of need and he wasn't there. He was angry at himself, and angry at the men who did this. Law grumbled and rubs his head. And he stood up and he was pacing around the room.

You could have been killed today! And it would have been his fault..he knew this life was dangerous and he didn't want to drag you close to death. He cares about you too much. Law let out a heavy sigh, his eyes carried a mix of irritation and resignation. He pinched the bridge of his nose, clearly conflicted. He needed to keep you safe no matter what...even if that means letting you go.

Yes...he needed to let you go. Right? That's right choice. To keep you safe?

He couldn't help but feel a few tears slip out. He didn't want to let you go but he had to. He didn't want to lose you. And if you were to die because he couldn't protect you he would never forgive himself. As he was lost in his thoughts he heard a small voice.

"Law?"

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts and wiped his tears and turned his head over you. And you tried sitting up but he quickly placed a hand on your shoulder. "Hey.. easy. Please take it easy."

"What happened?" You whimper and lay back down.

"You got jumped. But lucky for you I patched you up. So you just need some rest. Please get some rest." He said and stood up to which you tried to grab his hand but he quickly moved his hand out of the way. No he can't...it's only going to make things harder for him.

"I need to go tell the crew were changing plans. Heading to a new island." He said and stood up and just patted your head. Looking down at you, he can tell you were hurt but he didn't want to make himself weak to you. Not now.

"Please get some rest. You're going to need it." He said and began to walk out. You were calling for his name but he ignored it. Leaving you alone in the infirmary. While he went back to his office and buried himself into more work. And as he was working tears began to pour down and to his work. Making his paperwork wet. He couldn't help but cry to himself. He had to break things off before it's your life.

....

A few days passed by and Law didn't allow you to leave the infirmary. He kept on telling you needed rest but in reality he didn't want you near him. You'll only make things harder once he breaks things off.

But the rest of the crew kept you company. They were all so kind, everyone would bring your favorite snacks and gifts. But Bepo wouldn't want to leave your side. He still felt guilty. Bepo would sometimes even sleep on the floor of the infirmary just to keep you company.

While Bepo got your favorite snacks for the day, he was telling you that you guys landed on a new island. "Captain said we're landing on a new island!" He said with a smile across his face.

"Oh that's nice, I could use some fresh air." You say and there was a soft knock and Law walks in the room. "Hey Law." You say sweetly to him.

He just nods. "Bepo can you give us some time, I need to apply new bandages for Y/N." He said and Bepo nodded. "Sure thing Captain. See you soon Y/N!" He said and walks off.

Once alone Law pulled your shirt up so he could look take a look at your bandages. Sighing to himself, he took the time to apply new bandages on you and cleaned the wound itself as well.

"So. We docked the ship and I'm sure you want some fresh air right."

And you quickly nodded. "Please."

Law just nodded and without saying anything else he grabbed your hand and began to lead you out of the infirmary and towards the deck of the ship. And once you guys were out in the open you couldn't help but breath in. He was still holding your hand, giving it a slight squeeze. He couldn't help but look at your face, your beautiful face. This is the last time he's ever going to stare at those beautiful eyes, smile and your face.

He sighed to himself and helped you off of the Polar Tang. And you look around the Island and your blood went cold.

This was your old home...why would Law bring you back here. You hated this place…it brings up too many painful memories..

Letting go of your hand, you guys didn't move to far from the submarine. "You're going to stay here."

"What? No...I don't want to. Law what are you saying." You began to panic slightly.

He didn't answer your question and suddenly there was a blue bubble around you guys. "Room.... shambles." He mumbles and suddenly your bags and all your belongings were behind you. And you began to panic even more and tried to take a step closer.

"Keep your distance Y/N.." He growls out which made you stop in your tracks.

Tears began to stream down your face. "Law...what are you doing."

"Being in this relationship was a mistake, this whole thing was a mistake. You're no longer needed. I already got my use out you." He began to say, but deep down he hated himself for saying this, he hated watching your face react to his harsh words. The way you were crying. "So please do something useful for once and get out of my sight and leave."

"Law...honey.." Your voice cracked and you cried even more. Once he heard your voice cracked it took all his will power not to hold you. But he stood his ground. He wanted you to hate him. It'll make this easier for him and this break up.

"Are you stuipd!? I said you're no longer needed! I already got my use out of you!" He snaps out, which made you back away from him. "Good you're finally understanding. Look I'm a pirate. And all Pirates are greedy."

"But ..I thought we had something..." You continue to cry.

He scoffs. "Oh please did you think you were the one? My true love? You thought I was gonna settle down with you?"

You couldn't even form a sentence, you always thought Law was the one for you...and he sighed and turned around. "This is goodbye.." And with that he began to make his way back to the Polar Tang not even sparing you a final glance.

You stood there, watching the love of your life walk into his ship and slowly the submarine began to emerge underwater and slowly the Polar Tang began to disappear from your vision. And once it was gone you drop to your knees and began to cry your heart out.

"Law....please come back..."

Crying to yourself and you crawl towards the water, wanting to throw yourself in the deep ocean, to follow Law but you couldn’t.

“Law….LAW! PLEASE COME BACK!” You began to cry out….but nothing.

You were left alone…the love of your life just broke your heart and you didn’t know what to do..

[damnfeelings09]

So long, London - Shadow version

“I saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist

I kept calm and carried the weight of the rift”

You were at home, the house you shared with Shadow. It was a beautiful and cozy place. If only you still enjoyed being there. At first, everything was fine; Shadow loved having you close, even though he didn't show it very enthusiastically, his small gestures of love towards you always made your heart melt. However, lately, he had been very distant. It had been weeks since he kissed you, and don’t even talk about intimacy. Shadow was always very busy with his work, going from mission to mission, trying to save the world, but that’s what heroes do, right? So why did you feel so… alone?

“Pulled him in tighter each time he was drifting away.”

Every chance you got, you made sure that when Shadow came through the door, there was food ready, a comfortable and cozy place, a home that covered all the bad from the outside. But it was no longer enough. Every time you tried to start a conversation, Shadow refused, claiming he was too tired, had other things to do, and didn’t want to be disturbed. He locked himself in his office and you didn’t see him for days. You didn’t even share the same bed anymore. You tried to deceive yourself, of course, The Ultimate Lifeform doesn’t need rest, you thought, as you curled up and wiped away the tears before going to sleep.

As the weeks passed, you became immune to his indifference. Shadow didn’t try anymore, and neither did you. Both of you only shared the table out of habit. Is this how it feels when love ends?

“I stopped trying to make him laugh

Stopped trying to drill the safe.”

Right now, you were in the room with a bag full of your belongings. You couldn’t take this indifference anymore. The suffering was killing you, and he couldn’t even notice. You quickly grabbed what you could from your drawers and put it inside. Near the door, there was a photo. In it, you and Shadow were sitting on the edge of a hill, happy, smiling. When did all that happiness evaporate? Where did all that happiness go?

“Thinkin, how much sad did you think I had

Did you think I had in me?

Oh, the tragedy ...”

You pushed the photograph to the floor, the frame shattering into a thousand pieces at the same time as your heart did. Was this really what you wanted? The pain in your chest was devastating. There seemed to be no way out of it; you just needed it to stop. How could you stop a heart that lost its only reason to beat?

“I stopped CPR, after all it's no use

The spirit was gone, we would never come to.”

It wasn’t too late. You could still go back, leave everything as it was, and Shadow would never know. The thought of staying made your heart hurt less, but for how long? How much longer could you bear it? Before the pain consumed you completely, what else were you willing to give?

“And you say I abandoned the ship

But I was going down with it

My white knuckles dying grip

Holding tight to your quiet resentment.”

As you picked up the glass shards, you remembered the last fight you had. It was early, Shadow had promised he would spend the day with you. You woke up so excited, happy that finally your boyfriend would have time for the two of you, but when you went downstairs, you found him about to leave through the door.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to spend the day together,” you said, fiddling with your fingers, a nervous tic that always appeared when you were anxious.

“Something important came up” Shadow said, opening the door.

“I thought I was important” the anger consumed you from within. You had spoken without thinking. “At least pretend that you’re trying” You quickly covered your mouth, as if you could erase what you had just said. Shadow just sighed and gripped the doorknob tightly.

“You think I’m not trying?” he asked, anger building up on his voice as he turned to face you “I always push myself, I want to live my life, to enjoy it. Just like you do! But the death of my family is on me, and if I wasn’t created, none of it would’ve happened. It’s on me, I’m the one who has to pay for it. It’s all on me, so gods forgive me if I don’t have time for spoiled stupid little brats” he said, next thing you knew is that Shadow had disappeared using his chaos control, didn’t even bother to open the door, leaving you stranded. You stayed there at the edge of the stairs, trying to hold back your sobs, but as seconds passed, the weight became unbearable and it all came out. The pain was so deep that you couldn’t breathe, as if life itself was slipping from your hands. That day, when Shadow came back, he didn’t dare speak to you.

“My friends said it isn't right to be scared

Every day of a love affair

Every breath feels like rarest air

When you're not sure if he wants to be there.”

When you told Rouge and Amy about it, they were ready to hit him so hard that even his ancestors would feel the pain. But you didn’t let them, because you loved him, despite everything… you loved him. You still love him, right?

“Just how low did you think I'd go?

Before I'd self-implode

Before I'd have to go be free.”

“You swore that you loved me but where are the clues?” you whispered as you held the photograph in your hands, caressing it, wishing to go back to that day. You inhaled, filling your lungs with fresh air, allowing yourself to feel that pain, hidden, denied, buried among what you thought was love. For a moment, you let it take control of your body, each second more unbearable than the last. You couldn’t go on like this, you weren’t going to go on like this. Shadow wouldn’t take everything you were and turn it to ashes. Yes, you loved him, but you wouldn’t let him drag you into his misery. He had taken what once was a home and turned it into a cold, dark place, where light couldn’t reach you, at least not until you allowed it.

“And I'm just getting color back into my face

I'm just mad as hell cause I loved this place.”

You turned the photograph around, took the pen that was on the table near the front door, and wrote your farewell. You placed the paper back on the table with your keys, and as your heart agonized, you gave the final goodbye to your home, the only one you’ve ever known.

“Had a good run

A moment of warm sun

But I'm not the one

So long, Shadow” - Moon.

[shy-writer-999]

Summary: Let's balance out the end of kinktober with some toottthhhhh-rotting levels of sweetness. We'll make up for it tomorrow!

CW: Afab reader w/GN language. Teeny tiny bit of smut. Short and very sweet!

MINORS DNI. NSFW CONTENT.

What do you look like when you’re angry?

How do you grieve?

When you’re sad, do you shut down? Do you curl up in bed and heave sobs, or do you favor silent tears trailing down your cheeks?

Among others, these are the things Law wonders when he thinks about you. He wants to know you—to really know you. To be privy to your faults, habits, and your quirks. The things about you that no one else sees. Intimate moments of suffering along with the day-to-day.

Do you talk to yourself when you’re alone?

What does your hair look like right when you get out of the shower?

What’s your favorite time of year?

His heart contorts into alien shapes when he sees you. He clams up. You have no way of knowing the intensity of his emotions, the weapons of desire that his heart and brain exchange. The magnitude of your presence assails his senses, quickens his breath, stops his heart.

He’s well acquainted with the way you laugh and the way your lips turn into the smile that he looks forward to every day. He tries to act normal around you, and he succeeds. He succeeds too well, in fact, he’ll never have a chance with you until he does something out of the ordinary.

He stares sometimes. You notice that, at least. But you try to play it off.

Law can only tolerate so much anguish until it bubbles over.

When he works up the nerve to kiss you, his hand lingers on the small of your back. Your eyes are open from shock and you’re rigid. You’ve mused on how his lips feel, if his kisses along your jawline would tickle, if he would run his fingers through your hair. What would his fingers feel like entwined with yours?

But Law’s thoughts about you go deeper than that. He passed that point—the point of fantasizing about being intimate with you—months ago. He still indulges, of course. When he does, he’s fixated on what your face would look like pleasure-ridden and fucked out. How your breasts would feel in his hands.

The day that Law kisses you, he makes you blush first. He’s awkward, or, if not awkward, something akin to it. When he smiles at you, sits by you at lunch, and finds you in the some random corner of the ship later, he knows that today is the day.

The desire and ardent admiration are festering inside of him and he can’t take it anymore.

He wants to know what your skincare routine is and hear your scratchy morning voice. He wants to wash your plate after dinner, to treat you as nicely as you deserve. He wants to give you the world, but your lips haven’t even met yet.

When they do, the world fades away. You melt into his embrace; rigidity dissipates when you realize that he wants you—that your desire is mutual. It’s like getting struck by lightning; an electric current sends sparks where your skin meets.

His rough hands feel soft as they cup your cheeks. When he pulls away, he holds you there for a moment. It's silent as he watches your cheeks dust pink and your eyelashes flutter.

“I think I love you."

oy vey my heart hurts. i need this man stat. TT^TT

here's my masterlist and here's my october posting schedule.

tomorrow is the last day of kinktober!!! :0

finally, trick or treat? (tumblr links)

[inseobts]

Paths Diverged, Hearts United

Trafalgar Law x Strawhat!Reader

After liberating Wano you get offered to join a new crew and you decide to follow your heart.

A/N: it’s been years since I last wrote and posted something and it’s the first time I write about one piece so please be gentle with me lmao

Tags: sfw, bickering

Masterlist // ko-fi

The celebrations of Wano’s liberation has finally calmed. The Straw Hats, the Heart Pirates, and the Kidd Pirates stood together at the edge of the Flower Capital, each crew preparing to part ways. The bonds forged during the war were strong, but now the time had come for each to follow their own path.

You stood near the Sunny, your gaze fixed on the horizon. The others are laughing, bickering, and preparing their ships, but your thoughts are elsewhere. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the adventure that await you with the Straw Hats and the unspoken pull you feel toward Trafalgar Law.

“Y/N,” Kidd’s gruff voice cut through your thoughts. You turn to see the fiery redhead striding toward you, his usual smirk replaced with something softer. “You know, you’d make a hell of a lot more sense on my crew. We’d make a killer team.”

You chuckle, appreciating his attempt to sound casual. “Thanks, Kidd, but you know I’d drive you crazy.”

He snorts “You already do.”

His expression grew serious for a moment. “But if you change your mind, the offer stands. No strings, no pressure.”

You smile, giving him a playful shove. “Thanks, but I think the Sunny’s where I belong.”

As Kidd walks away, Law approaches from the Heart Pirates’ side. His usual stoic expression tinged with something unreadable, his golden eyes locking onto yours.

“Strawhat-ya,” he says, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re really staying with Luffy, huh?”

You nod, heart pounding in your chest “Yeah. I can’t imagine leaving them. They’re my family.”

Law nods, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting yours again. “Good choice” he says, though the tightness in his voice betrayed him.

The night before the departure, you found Law standing alone by a small koi pond in the garden. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a silver glow over him.

You approach quietly, nerves fraying with every step.

“Law” you called softly.

He turns, his expression softening when he sees you. “Couldn’t sleep either?”

You shook your head, coming to stand beside him. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you like a fragile thread. Finally, you took a deep breath.

“There’s something I need to say before we leave” you began, your voice trembling slightly.

Law’s brow furrows, concern flickering across his face “What is it?”

You clench your fists, summoning the courage you need, “I’ve been holding this back for too long. I care about you, Law. More than I probably should, considering we’re on different crews. But I wanted you to know… I actually have feelings for you.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished. Law’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he was completely silent.

Then, to your surprise, he stepped closer, his hand brushing against yours.

“Y/N,” he says softly, “I’ve spent so long keeping people at arm’s length. But you—you’ve made it impossible to do that. I like - I love you too.”

Your breath hitched, and before you could respond, he leans down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and full of restrained passion. The weight of both your unspoken feelings melted away as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s embrace.

The next morning, the crews gather at the docks. Luffy is as loud as ever, already shouting about the next destination. Kidd’s crew is preparing to set sail, and Law’s crew is doing the same.

You stood with the Strawhats, you heart torn but resolute. You exchange one last glance with Law, a silent understanding passing between you.

As the Sunny pulls away from the harbor, you stood at the railing, watching the Polar Tang grow smaller in the distance. Law stood at his own ship’s deck, his hand brushing against the pocket where a small piece of your vivre card rested.

You are on different paths now, but your bond is unbreakable.

Weeks later, you found yourself staring at the horizon again, your fingers brushing against the matching piece of Law’s vivre card you kept tucked away.

“Thinking about him again?” Nami teases, coming to stand beside you.

You smile sheepishly. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Nami says with a grin. “It’s about time someone tied you down, even if he’s not here.”

Luffy bounded over, laughing. “Don’t worry, Y/N! We’ll see him again! And when we do, you can make him blush all over again!”

You laugh, your heart light despite the ache of missing him. You know you’ll meet again—after all, your love is as constant as the sea itself.

[lenny-link]

i LIVE for your sniperscout art they're so silly it feeds me so well :'') mind sharing headcanons or just random thoughts you have abt them?

sorry anon for taking a whole year to reply to this i took all the time to ‘study’ them and write what i like about them or basically how i hc this ship :,> (also trying to come up with new hc that i haven’t read before)

My Sniperscout headcanons/thoughts:

- Sniper, the stoic assassin with a heart as cold as ice, had never expected to have his life turned upside down by a ball of energy and bad puns named Scout. He was the first one to develop feelings. His job consisted of a lot of staring, and well his sniper rifle wasn’t the only thing with a long scope, Sniper’s gaze would linger on Scout, tracing the messy dirty blonde hair, his athletic form and the way his lips moved like a silent film, noticing details about him more than a simple teammate would.

- The loudmouth, messy-haired kid was everything Sniper wasn't: impulsive, loud, and always looking for trouble. Yet, somehow, Scout would find his way into Sniper's quiet life, his laughter chasing away the monotony of Sniper's days, filling the silence with his made up stories and infectious enthusiasm.

- Sniper refuses to admit his growing fondness for the ball of energy that had invaded his quiet world. Scout’s jokes might have been bad but they chased away the deafening solitude of Sniper’s days.

- Scout, on the other hand, being the you youngest and loudest, craved attention he barely found from his brothers let alone the 8 mercs he worked with. But with Sniper, he wasn’t ignored he was listened to, Sniper listened really listened. He would even laugh at his lame jokes! In Sniper’s silence, Scout didn’t have to fight for space or attention. He was simply allowed to be himself, bad jokes and all and Sniper would just smile. Slowly a different kind of warmth would blossom into Scout chest, a warmth beyond friendship.

- Sniper actually enjoyed learning about American culture from Scout. He would develop a surprising fondness for baseball and apple pie, though he’d never admit it.

- Regardless of the fact that they have only a three year age gap (yes my hc is that Scout is 26 and Sniper is 29) they felt like creatures from different planets!: Sniper, the farm boy raised on outdated ways, and Scout, the city kid with a modern swagger (lol) yet this difference somehow only strengthened their bond.

- A bond that was fueled by shared laughter, puns, Aussie slangs, and a mutual dislike for Spy. They loved to elaborate pranks on him and call it a date, much to the Frenchman's chagrin lol.

- Despite his "Professional with Standards" persona, Sniper would feel like a lost puppy when Scout wasn’t around during their off hours, subconsciously fidgeting and always looking for him. Yet refuses to call himself soft.

- Sniper, a man of action, would expressed his affection through whatever small gifts he can give, he would bring funny-shaped rocks, odd plants or flowers he found in the woods to Scout as a souvenir of his lil adventures in the woods, and Scout would usually mock his weird finds playfully yet would collect them all on the shelf of his dorm.

- Scout, meanwhile, being the hopeless romantic is, had his own unique way of flirting, his goofy sweetness and awkward affections (0 rizz, but weirdly endearing) melting even the frostiest corners of Sniper’s heart.

- He'd always make up excuses to be alone with Sniper, "accidentally" forgetting his backpack in the van just for an extra ride back. (i was actually working on a comic about this as a continuation of Scout forgetting his necklace at Sniper’s van). He'd linger in doorways, his hands brushing against Sniper's in a clumsy attempt for physical contact.

- The first time their skin met in a hug, Sniper, being a touch starved man, melted like a hot candle. He became addicted to the warmth.

- He never initiates contact himself since it never was his style, but eagerly cling when Scout did. He'd hold on like a koala bear, clinging to the warmth like a lifeline lol.

- Scout, on the other hand, thrived on physical connection. From fist bumps on the battlefield to playful slaps on the bum (earning a hilarious reaction from Sniper every time), he craved it all

- Although Sniper hated PDA, a weakness exposed by Scout's touch. Scout, initially confused by the battlefield indifference followed by clingy cuddles in their private moments, eventually understood and learned to cherish this weird rhythm of intimacy.

- Sniper had a secret passion for knitting, he often knits sweaters, hats and socks for Scout, another way to gift Scout and to silently demonstrate his love. (i think this one is basically canon lol)

- Sniper’s van had become their mobile love nest, cuddling under the moonlight, sharing stories and dreams until they fall asleep.

- Whenever Scout's boasting gets out of hand, Sniper would silence him with a quick, playful kiss. Scout, flustered but secretly delighted, pretends to be annoyed but can't hide the blush creeping up his neck.

- Sniper who loves to show his gruff stoic exterior, gets all flustered and shy when Scout gives him genuine compliments. He’d mumbles something under his breath and hides behind his hat not used to being complimented, revealing a new weakness for Scout to exploit.

- Scout, despite his outward bravado, secretly worries about Sniper when he's on dangerous missions. He would hide it by throwing playful punches and jokes, but his eyes betray his concern.

- They fit together like puzzle pieces. Sniper, the touch-starved soul, finds solace in Scout's constant physical affection, his warmth a contrast to the coldness of his sniper's lonely lifestyle. And Scout, the braggart with a hidden insecurities, finds comfort in Sniper's quiet protectiveness.

hope that wasn’t too boring to read :>

[wanderingelvis]

hi!! so my birthday is tomorrow or the 27th of february and i was wondering if you could do an Elvis imagine and the Memphis Mafia throwing her a surprise birthday party? of course no rush or pressure i hope you have a wonder day ! - 🦢

headcanons for a birthday at graceland with elvis and the mafia 🎂🥂 (kinda possessive elvis!) 🧚🏻 Masterlist 🧚🏻

birthday's are special at graceland.

and yours, is no exception.

see, elvis spoils you every day, he showers you with affection and gifts that it's often overwhelming but you love feeling loved and you love soaking in the feeling.

but today, on your birthday, well, that's when elvis' generosity goes into overdrive.

he's like the captain of a ship, ordering the memphis mafia to do various tasks that will make your birthday extra special.

usually, jerry's scanning crowds making sure no-one is going to attack elvis but today he's blowing up pink balloons to decorate the interior of graceland with.

and of course he doesn't mind, he loves you as much as elvis does.

they all do in fact, jerry, sonny, red, charlie, lemar, you've got a hold on all of their hearts.

it's how sweet you are, even when they've had an intense and rough day, you'll be the sunshine that they crave.

like when jerry got in a scuffle with some guys trying to get too close to elvis and he cut his knuckles pretty damn bad, you sat by his feet, tending to the wound with a warm damp rag and clean bandages, trying to tell him jokes that maybe weren't all that funny, but when you said them, well then jerry had to laugh.

you're like a tonic.

and god, you were intoxicating.

so when it's your birthday, the entire memphis mafia ensure they're pulling out all the stops.

when elvis wakes you up, you're an adorable sight to see, your hair is slightly strewn and you blink several times before the realisation hits that it's your birthday, and suddenly, it's like you're a bush-baby, and the excitement begins to build.

"happy birthday, kid." elvis says, kissing your forehead as you gaze up at him from your shared bed, the kiss eliciting a soft giggle from you that practically melts elvis' heart.

even though you're still a little sleepy, elvis leads you out of the bedroom, your small hand in his larger, more calloused one.

and you practically jump out of your skin when a chorus of "surprise!" and "happy birthday!" roars around the living room, all of the men of the mafia, watching as elvis leads you to them.

of course, it's then that the stage fright hits, and your nerves bundle up inside you, the attention on you causing you to turn and bury your face into elvis' chest.

as if he's your comfort blanket.

but this only elicits another chorus of sound, but this time laughter, and 'aww's' from the men, cooing at just how sweet you are.

"think someone's got a lil' bit shy!" elvis chuckles, wrapping his arms around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back before leaning down his head to check on you.

"y'okay bunny? it's just the guys, they wanna celebrate y'big day with you baby, see," elvis coos at you, coaxing you into peeking at everyone as he points to the pink balloons over the archways. "jer got up extra early this mornin' to blow them balloons for you baby." elvis tells you and you start blushing, that feeling of feeling loved swelling inside of you.

it's already too much for a little thing like you to handle, and you've only been awake for 20 minutes.

once the stage fright is shaken off, elvis keeps a hold of your hand, leading you through the dining room and the living room, letting you see all of the pretty decorations that he and the memphis mafia have done for you, from balloons, to ribbons, to birthday breakfast pancakes.

and being the good girl you are, you give every one of the big, old men a cuddle, thanking them for making your birthday so special.

and even though elvis knows your cuddles are harmless, he never lets you out of his sight.

he trusts you, of course he does, and he trusts his men, of course he does, but there's just something so irresistible about you.

he knows his men are loyal but you're so heavenly that he knows you're worth risking everything for.

so he always keeps an eye on you.

because no-one else will ever have you, only him.

so he knows he needs to keep you happy.

and of course, that means presents, and extra special ones as it's your birthday.

and what could be more special than your own little puppy?

when elvis gives you the puppy, you can't help the tears that pool in your big, wide eyes.

"really? for me?" you ask with a slight tremble, you're not really ready to believe that the puppy is all yours.

"all yours baby." elvis smirks, he's proud of himself for the gift.

so there you are, with elvis' kitten with her own little puppy.

elvis and the mafia have invited everyone round for a party to celebrate you and by the time the evening rolls around, it's a full house.

the smell of champagne and cigars fill the rooms as does the sound of laughter and chatter.

and of course, you remember your manners, making sure to say hello to everyone and thank them for coming.

even if you have to go on your tippy-toes to whisper in elvis' ear because you need his help - you can't remember that guests name.

as the party continues and elvis is showcasing his new gun collection to sonny and charlie, the two men puffing on cigars, you're sat on the fluffy white carpet, by elvis' feet, your sole attention focused on your new puppy, who you're affectionately playing with.

elvis' talk of guns being interrupted with your sweet giggles at your puppy.

but it's not long before the staff come round with more glasses of champagne for everyone and you can't help yourself, you just want to have a little bit more.

only a little.

so you tap on elvis' trouser leg, catching his attention as he leans down to where you are on the floor beside him.

"please may i have a glass of champagne?" you ask softly and you know the look that he gives you all too well.

"just one more." elvis tells you with that coy look on his face. "can't have my baby being sick on her birthday now, can i?" elvis chuckles and you reciprocate, taking the glass that the staff hands you after elvis nods at them to confirm it's okay to give you one.

you love how elvis looks after you and knows what's best for you.

but the excitement of your birthday is quick to take it's toll, and it's not long until your head is firmly led on elvis' lap with your eyes closed.

elvis' lap is a good enough substitute for your bed, you think.

but obviously, elvis disagrees, and after about fifteen minutes of stroking your hair as you rest your head in his lap and lay on the couch by him, he decides it's time for your bedtime.

"c'mon little one, time to get you to your bed." elvis coos, waking you up ever so that you can say your goodnights and go with elvis to your bedroom.

and it's not before elvis instructs you to say goodnight and thank you to all of the memphis mafia that are sat around you in the living room.

"give the guys a kiss goodnight baby, say thank you fr' makin' y'day so special." elvis chides, patting your butt so prompt you to say your goodnights.

see, elvis is a possessive man, and he knows that his men adore you, and after a few drinks, he can't help but enjoy watching as you innocently go around, placing a kiss on each of the mafia's cheeks, not thinking anything of it, whilst the men won't stop thinking about for the next month, wishing they were as lucky as elvis to have you.

because there's nothing elvis loves more than having something that everyone else wants but can't have.

and for him, that's you.

because now, he gets to take you upstairs, undress you, kiss you up and down your body, taste you, fuck you.

and the mafia will still be thinking about that kiss on the cheek.

but all you feel is loved, and you love feeling loved.

and elvis loves you better than anyone.

and that's why birthday's at graceland are so special.