#I would do unspeakable things to and for him

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter One

Neither of them want to get married. Its a marriage of convenience, not of love. They can find it in themselves to love each other, but life has other things in mind.

Mafia!au

"Check," said Y/N as her Queen took his Knight. He had no moves himself, none that would win the game for him. In one more move Y/N could take his King, winning the game.

Lando stared at his sister, annoyance and amusement written on his face. "How did you get so good at chess?" He asked and leaned back in his chair. There was no point making his next move, not when she was going to win anyway.

With a smirk on her face, Y/N made that final, winning move. "I played a lot with my mum while you were off with dad."

Off doing unspeakable things.

While Y/N and Lando had the same father, they didn't share a mother. Landos mother had died when he was young. Nasty business really. He and his dad were alone until Y/Ns mother came along.

Landos dad and Y/Ns mother weren't meant to fall in love. It just sort of... happened. She gave the Norris boys so much love while being ruthless with their men. She fell into place in their world and, before she knew it, she was the heavily pregnant Mrs Norris.

A lot of people didn't realise Y/N and Lando were only half siblings. Some didn't realise they were related at all.

After having a baby girl, Mr Norris wanted to keep her away from their world. He already had Lando set up to take over from him, as head of the Norris family, working for the Hamiltons. But Y/N wasn't supposed to be involved.

"How is dad?" Asked Y/N as she packed away the chess set. Y/N hadn't seen her father in near two weeks. His health was deteriorating and he spent all of his time and energy working. Lando would be taking over as head of the Norris family but it was only once his body was in the ground. That was going to be any day now.

Lando cleared his throat and turned towards the window. "Don't be surprised if he calls you into his room any day now," he answered.

Oh. That wasn't good news. Y/N placed the wooden chess set back on the desk that used to belong to her mother and turned back towards her brother. "You have your first meeting with Mr Hamilton, don't you?" She asked, nervously chewing at her nails.

Lando narrowed his eyes towards her. "You've been listening in, haven't you?"

"Only sometimes," Y/N answered, sitting in her mothers chair. Sometimes she'd be there for hours, sitting behind the desk, pretending she was as involved in the Norris Family as her mother once was. They were big shoes to fill. “I could go with you, you know?”

“No!” Lando shouted, slamming his fist down onto the table in front of him.

Y/N jumped back. This was what her brother had been bred and raised for. Already he was ruthless and calculating, every bit the man their father had been trying to turn him into. “Dad wouldn’t allow it and neither will I,” he spat and stood from his chair.

Lando was already dressed in one of his best suits. He had attended several meetings with Mr Hamilton before, but none without his father. This was his first. He wasn’t yet head of the family, but he was going to act like it. At these meetings he was used to being seen and not heard, but this was his first time speaking. It was on behalf of his father, yes, but the words were still coming from Lando.

He marched out of the study, leaving Y/N there. He didn’t apologise for being harsh; it was the only way to keep her safe.

Y/N watched her brother go. As soon as he was gone, Y/N began trying to pull open the desk drawers. They were locked, had been ever since her mother had died. But she was desperate for some way to be close to her mother; it was lonely in a crime family when you couldn’t be involved with the crime.

When she couldn’t get into the desk, she stood and walked out of the room.

The halls were full of portraits. Members of the Norris family that had since passed on. there were family portraits, too. One of little Lando with his mother and his father and one of Lando, Y/N and their parents. Further down the hall there was a portrait of Lando’s mother and another of Y/N’s mother. Mr Norris loved both of his wives equally, that was clear to anyone.

Two men stood on either side of Y/N’s door. They were silent, unspeaking. The guns Y/N knew they had on them were saying enough. She walked past them, giving just a curt nod and pushed the door shut behind her.

Just because she wasn’t a part of the crime family didn’t mean her father didn’t want her protected. There were men outside of her door and men under her window. There were at least two at every entrance; nothing came in or out of the house without them knowing.

She sat on her bed and looked towards her window. Normal girls could go out and spend time with their friends. They could go out and get dinner, sit at a bar with a cocktail in hand. They could go out to the club and dance the night away. But not Y/N. She had to sit in her room and dream of a life she could never have.

There was a polite knock on her door before it opened. Oscar Piastri, a young man on loan from Mark Webber in Australia, popped his head around.

“You okay?” He asked her.

When she nodded, he strode into the room and sat on the bed beside her. Her best friend, the only person allowed to be this informal with her. If any of the other men tried, Lando would have shot them where they stood.

She shook her head. “Come on,” Oscar said and laid back, knitting his hands together over his stomach. “Talk to me.”

So, she did.

***

Lando was in the big leagues now. When he was a boy he used to sit on the side lines, taking notes for his father. But now he was up at the table with the other heads of house. Charles Leclerc of Monaco, Carlos Sainz Sr, one of the heads of family from Spain. There was Sergio Perez from Mexico, Jos Verstappen from the Netherlands and more.

At the head of the table was Lewis Hamilton. He ran everything, kept all of the families together. Before him there had been Schumacher and then Vettel. Hamilton was a wonder boy. He’d risen up in the ranks in the button family before breaking away and starting his own. It had started a war, a war that Hamilton had been quick to put an end to.

He was in charge of the crime family now.

Lando listened as Lewis ran the meeting. He spoke to each family member, a man from his organisation taking notes. “We have a newcomer at the table today,” Lewis bellowed, leaning forward with his hands clasped in front of him. “As we all know, Norris isn’t in the best of shape. So, in his steed, he has sent his son, Lando.”

Lando has a tight smile as he waved to the rest of the room. He’d met them all before, Sainz and his father were once friends. He’d spent a lot of time with his son when he was younger.

Finishing the meeting, Hamilton dismissed everybody. “Ah, Lando, can I speak to you for a moment?” He asked as he lit a cigar.

Lando walked over to him and accepted the cigar he offered to him. “What can I do for you, sir?” Lando asked, sitting in the seat beside his own.

Hamilton took his cigar from between his lips. “As you know, your father and Sainz haven’t always been the best of friends. There has been something brewing between your families for a while now and it is my job to squash it. Your father, Sainz and I have been having talks for years now, and we came to one conclusion.”

Lando cleared his throat. He hadn’t smoked very much before, but it was a habit he had been picking up since his father’s health started declining. “What might that be, sir?”

“Your sister.”

Lando’s face paled. His eyes went wide, and his mouth felt metallic. “What sister?” His protective instincts kicked in, but he couldn’t do anything in front of Hamilton. Lando felt sick.

“Before your mother died, she came up with a plan to unite your families. Your sister is to marry Sainz Jr and you’re to make sure it happens, okay?”

Hamilton gave Lando no time to reply. He put out his cigar and walked away, leaving Lando still sitting at the table.

He couldn’t stand up. His chest hurt and he needed to empty his stomach. Lando stood from his seat and rushed out of the room. He made his way through the halls and out to his car. He couldn’t throw up in Lewis Hamilton’s bushes, could he? No, Lando had to get home.

Driving around the fountain, Lando sped back home. He could hide his sister away, couldn’t he? Send her somewhere that didn’t have any of the families in power. Their house in Monaco was a no go, not while Charles was in power. Maybe their house in Belgium, but too many families in power surrounded the country.

Driving home was a blur for Lando. He couldn’t allow his little sister to marry into another crime family. And it was a plan his stepmother came up with. She was the one hellbent of protecting Y/N in the first place; how could she let this happen?

As soon as Lando was out of his car, he threw up onto the gravel driveway. He threw up until he had nothing left in his stomach. Lando couldn’t face going inside, not yet. He couldn’t tell her, not yet. How was his father allowing this?

Lando wanted them answers. He wanted them real bad.

Leaving his car where it was, Lando marched towards the house. He threw his eyes to somebody at the front door and stormed past them. Up several flights of stairs and towards the furthest bedroom. When he walked past Y/N’s bedroom, his steps faltered. She was in there, and she had no idea what was waiting for her.

Lando burst into his father’s bedroom. It was a horrible sight to see, him laying in bed hooked up to oh so many machines. He stared at Lando as he walked over to the desk, grabbed the chair and dragged it back over to the bed. “Dad,” he said, staring at him.

Mr Norris didn’t respond. He stared at his son, waiting for him to continue.

“I had my first meeting with the heads of the families today,” Lando said, his leg bouncing. “Hamilton pulled me to the side to talk about a deal Helena made with Sainz. Do you already have an invite to Y/N’s wedding? Or am I the last to find out? Well, aside from Y/N, of course.”

Mr Norris coughed. “Has she met with him yet?”

“What?”

“Has Y/N met with Carlos Sainz Jr yet?”

Lando shook his head. “No, she hasn’t.”

“Arrange it for the end of the week. I want the ball rolling on this as soon as possible,” said Mr Norris. He waved his hand, dismissing his son, but Lando ignored it.

“No,” he said and stood up. He pushed his hair back, knocking it over. “No, not until you tell me why! Why are you throwing Y/N to the lions when we’ve spent the last twenty years trying to protect her?!” He shouted, fury written on his face.

Mr Norris shook his head. "You know what will happen if we do not make peace with Sainz. Set up a meeting between Y/N and Sainz Jr."

With no other choice, Lando left the room. He stopped just outside of his father's door and punched the wall. The men guarding Y/N's door watched, but they didn't let their gazes linger.

Lando let out a shout as his fist connected with the wall, but he didn't register the pain. There were more pressings things at hand.

He marched down the hallway and pushed his way into Y/Ns room. "Lan!" She cried when he pushed the door shut behind him. "How was your meeting with the heads of family?"

This wasn't something he wanted to talk about. Especially not with Y/N. But, what other choice did he have? He was supposed to arrange a meeting between her and Carlos.

Lando stood by the window, looking out into the gardens. "We've got something we need to talk about," he said, refusing to look at her.

"What's the matter, Lan?"

With a sigh he turned around and sat on the bed beside her. "Before your mother passed, she set up a business deal using the help of our dad, Hamilton and Sainz. This business deal actually involves you."

"Me?" Y/N gasped as she stared at her brother. "What could I possibly have to do with anything?"

Lando sucked in a breath. "You know the problems we've been having with the Sainz family? Well, your mother, our father, Hamilton and Sainz had been working together to try and rectify this. Before she died, your mum came up with a solution."

"Lan, just tell me," she muttered, picking at the skin around her nails.

This was the hardest thing he would ever have to do. "Y/N, you're getting married," he said quickly. "It was your mothers ideal, so there can't be any other solution."

Y/N was quiet for a moment. Married. She was going to be getting married.

"I didn't want this for you, but we have no other choice," he continued. "Please, Y/N, try to understand."

"No, Lan, I understand. I get it," she mumbled, placing her hands in her lap. "I know its something I have to do. Just, tell me, who am I going to be marrying?" But Y/N was pretty sure she already knew.

"Do you remember my old friend, Carlos?"

A/N: yes, I still have the novel version in the works. @nurse-floyd is the only person who's had the privilege of reading it so far, but this fiction is a taste

[inkmonster21]

I’m Just Next Door

Series Masterlist

John Price x Single!Mom

3. Hot Neighbor

John had been intentionally bumping into you, finding ways to cross your path daily, to catch your attention. And you, overwhelmed and slightly oblivious, hadn't noticed a thing. That's why you needed him - to guide you, to take charge, to give you what you desired but didn't realize you needed.

But would you allow him to do as such?

Would you be able to overlook his two failed marriages? Would you understand the scars he carried, the ghosts of his past sins? Would you embrace the type of man he was?

Hard. Tough. A man of violence and control. A man who’d done horrible, unspeakable things in the name of duty. A man, who in all honesty, couldn’t be considered a good man.

You sighed as you walked into the kitchen, the baby monitor screen on and clear. It was silent, just the white noise of your little one's breathing as she slept peacefully.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. "She’s finally down," you said aloud, a victorious sigh escaping your lips.

Your best friend was perched on your kitchen counter, already pouring two glasses of wine. "I’ve got this cute new hire," she said, a mischievous glint in her eye. "He saw the picture of us from your birthday and practically swooned."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes. "Oh, don't even start with that," you replied. You had no interest in dating. No one had managed to catch your eye. No one, except for the man that lived right next door.

John Price.

But you'd keep your desires for him to yourself.

Your friend shook her head, exasperated with your reticence to date again. "You have to get out there eventually," she chided, sipping her wine.

You just shook your head, refusing to rise to her challenge. "I've got better things to do than spend time with someone who’s just going to waste my time," you replied, taking a sip of your own wine.

“Oh come on,” your friend replied, "there must be someone you’re interested in. Anyone you've noticed?" Her voice was teasing, a playful smirk on her face.

You rolled your eyes, knowing where this was going. "No, I haven't noticed anyone. I’ve been too busy with the business and my daughter," you said, trying to sound convincing.

She smirked, seeing right through your attempt to shut down the conversation. "Oh really? Not a single man has caught your eye at all lately?" she pressed, clearly enjoying playing the role of matchmaker.

You sighed, knowing she wouldn’t drop the subject. "I mean… there is… just this one,” you begrudgingly admitted, knowing you’d regret the admission. You quickly added, "But it would never, ever happen! It's just a fantasy." You knew it was a useless sentiment, but you said it anyway.

Your friend raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "I need to know everything about this."

You shook your head, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. "It's nothing, really. Nothing will come of it." Your voice sounded unconvincing, even to your own ears.

Your friend smirked slyly, clearly reading your body language. "Oh, come on, don't hold out on me now. I can see it written all over your face."

You sighed, realizing there was no escaping this interrogation. "I have a tiny, little, itsy bit of a crush on my very hot neighbor, okay?"

Your friend quickly got up, quickly moving over to the window, determined to get a glimpse, "Oh my god, you have a hot neighbor?"

You couldn’t help giggling as she tried peeking out the window, desperate to catch a glimpse of your hot neighbor. “Stop!” you said through laughter.

She laughed but finally pulled away from the window. “You have to tell me all about this hot neighbor of yours now.”

You sighed, recounting the events of meeting John and the subsequent encounters, the way he’d swung your daughter at the park and paid for your lunch. How his strong hands had felt on your waist, and how it felt like sparks flying.

"But," you said, "he’s just being neighborly."

Your friend rolled her eyes, not buying your excuse. "You daft cunt, you don’t really believe that, do you? He’s giving you all the signs he wants you," she said, sipping her wine.

You shook your head, trying to brush off her suggestion. "It’s just wishful thinking. I’m sure he’s just being friendly. It’s not like he’s interested in a divorced mediocre artist with a child."

She shook her head, exasperated. "You’re so dense. You could have a guy drooling at your feet, and you’d still think he’s just ‘being friendly.’”

"I just happen to be a realist," you countered, folding your arms across your chest. "I know how men can be. He’s not interested in me, he’s just being nice."

You added, "Plus I think he's nearing 40. He doesn’t seem the type to be messing around with a mid-twenties single mother, I’m sure of it," a hint of sarcasm in your tone.

Your friend just rolled her eyes at your comment. "Age is just a number. Plus, 40-year-old men are usually more mature, less likely to pull the same old bullshit men our age do."

"Yeah, they just have different bullshit to pull," you retorted, taking a hearty sip of your wine.

She chuckled at your response. "Fair point," she agreed, "But at least they’re more stable. More likely to have their ducks in a row, you know?"

You shrugged, her logic was making sense. 40-something-year-old men were likely more responsible, financially stable, and better with money and children. You definitely didn’t want to mess with men your own age.

"Maybe," you replied, begrudgingly acknowledging the possibility. You knew your friend had a point - stable career, responsible, mature. All things you should want in a man.

John had noticed the unfamiliar car in your drive the moment he arrived home. His mind immediately started racing with questions. Were you dating someone? Was it serious?

He knew he had no right to be jealous he hardly knew you. But the thought of you with another man, some faceless stranger he didn’t know, it twisted his gut with inexplicable jealousy.

He tried to gather information from his own house. A glance at your home confirmed you were not in your bedroom. He felt a small breath of relief that you weren't doing anything in there.

From his vantage point, he could see your telly was on, and the sound of your laughter carried from the kitchen. You seemed to be having a good time with whoever was in there with you.

It was killing him not knowing who was in there. He wanted desperately to know who was sharing that laugh, who was making you smile.

He watched, and listened, trying to catch a glimpse, a hint, something that would satiate his curiosity.

His heart sank as he saw the light in your bedroom turn off. You were going to bed with this person.

He couldn't help but feel a crushing sense of jealousy and disappointment. The thought of you with another man, sharing a bed with someone who wasn't him, drove him crazy.

He knew he had no right to be mad. He had no claim on you. You were just a fantasy in his mind, a beautiful image he couldn't shake from his thoughts.

But the thought of you with another man, someone who wasn't him, made his blood boil.

He wanted you. He desired you with every fiber of his being. Your laugh, your smile, the way you looked at him.

Morning came, and the unfamiliar car was still parked in your driveway. John couldn’t help but shake his head as he left his house for the base.

He noticed your door opening, and he stopped in his tracks, watching to see who was exiting your house.

First, you stepped out, your little girl in hand. You were just as beautiful as yesterday, dressed casually yet still alluring. You had a small, tired smile on your face.

Your little girl was the first to see him, waving and calling out enthusiastically, "Hi Mr. John!" Her voice was cheerful and innocent.

He smiled at the sight of you and your little girl, his heart skipping a beat. "Hi sweetheart," he replied, his voice softened by the sight of the two of you.

He turned his gaze to you, his voice low and gravelly, "Morning, love." The term of endearment slipped effortlessly from his lips.

“Good morning, John.” You tried to hide your reaction, but he noticed the way your cheeks darkened at his words. It pleased him to no end to see your reaction.

"We're going to shopping today!" Your little girl announced with excitement. Her cheerful exclamation echoed throughout the air, her enthusiasm contagious.

John chuckled at her excitement, his attention briefly torn from you. "Is that right, sweetheart?" he asked, looking down at her with a warm smile.

“Yeah, we are,” You let out a sigh and spoke up in a playful tone, calling out to the open door, "Whenever the driver gets out here!"

His mind raced with speculation about the person who was about to step out of your house. Who was the lucky man that got to drive you around? The man who got to spend time alone with you?

To John's surprise, it wasn't a man who stepped out, but a woman. She closed the door behind her and joined you and your daughter.

Your friend couldn't help but roll her eyes, a playful smirk on her face. "You act like I take forever," she huffed.

You chuckled, playfully wiggling your daughter's hand in the air. "I don't say when we go," you quipped in a mock-bossy tone, "we're on the boss' time!"

You introduced your friend to John, a warm smile on your face. Your friend's eyes flicked between you and John, and a smirk played across her lips as she took in the interaction between the two of you.

John politely greeted your friend, his deep voice resonating through the air. "Pleasure to meet you," he said, his gaze flickering back to you for a moment, as if unable to look away for too long.

Your daughter's eager voice rang out, "Let's go!" She was clearly excited and ready for their shopping trip.

Your friend scooped up your daughter and opened the car door, her excitement matching your daughter's. "Let's do it!" she exclaimed, full of energy and ready for the adventure.

A wave of relief washed over John as he realized it wasn't a romantic partner leaving your home, but merely a friend. The jealousy that had been bubbling within him quickly dissipated, replaced by a sense of satisfaction and possessiveness.

"Have fun today, love." He gave you a slight nod, his voice low and gravelly. His eyes were fixed on you, the possessiveness in his gaze subtle but impossible to ignore.

Your cheeks felt warm under the intensity of his gaze. There was something different in the way he looked at you, possessive and protective, like you were his and his alone.

You smiled, meeting his gaze with a mix of hesitation and something else... desire? "And you have a good day at work," you replied, your words almost a murmur.

John couldn't help but notice the way your cheeks flushed with color, the way your eyes sparked with a mix of hesitation and something else, something that looked like attraction. He smirked a bit, a little thrill passing through him at the sight.

"I will," he said, his voice gruff and gravelly. The possessive look in his eyes deepened as if he were claiming ownership over you just by looking at you.

You quickly got into the passenger side of your friend's car, your daughter buckled in the backseat.

Your friend glanced over at you, a mischievous glint in her eyes, "So...that's your hot neighbor?" she teased, her smirk growing wider as she observed your reaction.

A mix of embarrassment and excitement flushed your cheeks. "Shut up," you said, trying to sound casual, your attempt at nonchalance undermined by your flushed cheeks.

Your friend chuckled and began to drive away, and your daughter, clearly hearing the conversation, excitedly repeated, "Hot neighbor." Your cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as you shot your friend a glare.

Your little daughter piped up, curious, "What that mean?" Her innocent question hung in the air, your friend trying to suppress a laugh.

Your friend couldn't help but respond with a smirk, "Means your mommy likes Mr. John." She took a glance at you, clearly amused by the turn of events.

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Oh my god..." you murmured, mortified by your friend's bluntness.

"Oh come on, it's adorable." Your friend teased, her smirk growing wider. "The way you get all flustered and red when you see him. Never seen you that way.”

"I don't get all flustered and red," you insisted vehemently, but even you knew you were lying.

"You totally do get all flustered and red," your friend teased, her smirk turning into a full-on grin as she continued to tease you.

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

Tag Game: Scenes I will never forget

Rules: Share 5-10 scenes you can't forget. Not your favourites, the ones that got stuck in your brain for any reason.

Tagged by @my-rose-tinted-glasses - thank you!💜

So when I first saw this game, I thought of all those scenes that are like a punch to the gut --

Like when Gi Tae asked Lee Wan "Have you been well? Without me?" in Our Dating Sim. Or Joke answering "Does it hurt?" with, "Not as much as what you did to us," in Jack and Joker.

But then I thought I should define it as the most rewatched scenes of all my shows. The scenes that crawled inside of my chest and never left again. The scenes that I find myself waiting with bated breath for friends or family to see for the first time so I can watch their brains get rewired in real time. The scenes that are absolutely iconic and unforgettable, that I sometimes rewatch all on their own just to live in the feeling that they gave me.

In no particular order:

Goblin

The end of episode 2 and beginning of episode 3 is THE HOOK y'all. If anyone watches the first couple of episodes and feels ambiguous about the drama, they see this scene and inevitably think, "holy shit." It's epic. It's legendary. It's grabbing you by the throat. (Bonus: it knows it's epic because it's later parodied by the show itself in episode 10!)

Hannibal

To be fair, this entire show is just one epic, unforgettable scene after another. The dialog is so on point and the acting so stellar and the cinematography so stunning! Nevertheless, this scene is THE SCENE for me. This very brilliant Italian police inspector is just acting with so much confidence that Will is on the side of the angels, and this is the moment the penny drops. Will suddenly appears to be... dangerous.

Another Miss Oh

The moment these two snap and go from a knock down drag out physical altercation with bloodied lips into the world's best kdrama first kiss... Well. I feel things. I need to call the fire department because my screen is nothing but flames.

Vincenzo

In his very first scene, our resident pyromaniac cutie tossed his lighter behind him and casually drove away through burning Italian vineyards as if it was another Tuesday (as any true anti hero would). It sets the stage for the whole series. This man means business, and he's not here to play nice or be redeemed. When he gets his revenge, people die.

The Worst of Evil

Look, everyone knows in this house we're suckers for pathetic men covered in blood, but this is... gah. Our baby fought his way through a sea of heavily armed gangsters until his cream colored suit was drenched in blood and all he could smell was blood and there was blood on his literal eyeballs and when asked why -- he. HE. Looked STRAIGHT INTO THE EYES of the man he's clearly come to love with the unbearable weight of all his guilt and the unspeakable enormity of his feelings and says this. While his wife is standing right there. An insane scene for insane people!!! A scene that makes you pause the show and go lie down in a dark bedroom while you hug your pillows for two hours before you can hit play again.

The Glory

There are many ways to say "I love you," but this one beats them all for living in my head rent free. He sees her scars and knows what they mean and is possessed by the unshakable devotion of a man who has finally found religion and immediately says HE'LL DO IT. HE'LL BE HER EXECUTIONER. TELL HIM. OUT OF ALL OF THEM, WHO DOES SHE WANT HIM TO KILL FIRST? Be still my heart! My insane boy who is haunted by his own desire to intimately stab and kill the man who killed his father WANTS TO BE USED BY HER. Is there any scene more wildin' than this one?

No pressure tags to @twig-tea @spicyvampire @bengiyo @lurkingshan @theside-b

@wei-ying-kexing-apologist @pharawee

@absolutebl @telomeke @thisautistic @aousboom @avorbl and anyone else who wants to play.

[rheaxsethi]

Rhea didn’t move right away. The warmth of his hand on her jaw, the weight of his forehead resting against hers—it all rooted her in a way she hadn’t expected. It wasn’t comfort so much as clarity. This wasn’t a moment born out of convenience or weakness. It was something rare and sharp and unspeakably human. The kind of thing she used to scoff at, back when pretending not to care was easier than admitting she wanted something real. Now, real was staring her in the face. And it hurt in all the ways that mattered.

His words didn’t surprise her. They cut, sure—but with the kind of honesty she respected, even when it stung. She hadn’t kissed him thinking it would fix anything. She didn’t believe in fixes anymore. She believed in glimpses—of truth, of longing, of possibility—and that kiss had been all three. A silent confession from someone who didn’t know how to say please, just let me feel something real again. “I know,” she said softly, her breath catching in the narrow space between them. “I didn’t do it expecting to be forgiven. Or trusted.” Her voice cracked on the last word, the emotion catching up to her mouth before she could smother it. Her hand came up to touch his cheek, not to soothe or seduce, but as if trying to memorize the shape of something she might never get again. “You think I don’t trust you? Maybe I don’t. But that’s not because I don’t want to. God, I wanted to and even that day at the festival, I thought about staying--but Duke, it was getting...heavier than I expected.” And she wasn't used to that. Hell, Rhea was a lone wolf, people didn't get close to her and even if they did--they left when they saw the truth of who she was inside.

She took a breath—the kind meant to hold grief at bay. Then she stepped back—slow, deliberate, like peeling herself away from the gravity of something that could have wrecked her if she let it. Her fingertips lingered at his chest, just over his heart. She wondered if it was racing like hers… or steady, like he already knew how this would end. “You don’t trust me,” she echoed, voice quiet but steady. Her eyes were tired, clear. “And I don’t blame you. I’ve spent so long disappearing before people could push me out. But for once… I wanted to stay.” A pause. Her throat tightened, but she kept going. “Even then, I didn’t give in to that instinct. I stayed. I came back. And now—you’re the one telling me to go. So… I guess that’s that.” She didn’t wait for permission. Didn’t wait for him to change his mind.

She stepped away—finally, fully—resigned to the quiet ache that this might be the last time they'd ever meet like this. That whatever thread had once pulled them together was fraying fast beneath the weight of what neither of them could say. Of course he wouldn’t want her now. She was a liability. A risk. And in his world, that was the same thing as dangerous but meant to be eliminated. So now--Rhea wondered if it was just a matter of time.

The kiss hit him like a freight train he never saw coming. One second she was talking about loyalty and choice, the next her lips were on his and every coherent thought scattered like dice across felt. His body went rigid, not from rejection but from pure shock, because this wasn't supposed to happen. Not now. Not when he was still nursing wounds from her disappearance, still trying to figure out if she was someone he could trust or someone who'd eventually burn him. But here she was, kissing him with all the intensity of a woman who'd been holding back for months, and Christ, he'd thought about this exact moment more times than he cared to admit. Just not like this. Not when everything between them felt so raw and unresolved. The shock lasted maybe three seconds before his hands found her waist, pulling her closer as he kissed her back with months of pent-up frustration and want. Every instinct told him this was a mistake, that mixing emotions with the mess they'd created would only make things worse. But feeling her fingers curl against his collar, tasting the desperation and honesty in her kiss, made it impossible to pretend anymore. This wasn't just physical attraction or some game she was playing. This was real. Messy and complicated and absolutely terrifying, but real. He kissed her like he was trying to communicate everything he couldn't say out loud, all the nights he'd wondered where she was, all the anger and worry and stubborn attraction he'd been carrying around.

When she pulled back, he couldn't move, couldn't speak, couldn't do anything but stare at her with his forehead pressed against hers. Her confession about not fixing anything should have irritated him, should have made him push her away and remind her that trust wasn't rebuilt with a single kiss. Instead, it made perfect sense. Nothing was fixed. He was still angry about her disappearance, still worried about what her knowledge of his world could mean for his crew. She was still someone who ran when things got difficult, still someone who kept secrets behind those careful eyes. "You're right," he said finally, his voice rougher than he intended. "It doesn't fix anything. We’re still who we are and I still cannot trust you. Just like I’m sure you can’t trust me when you fled that day." But he didn't step back either, didn't put distance between them like logic demanded. His thumb traced along her jaw without conscious thought, like his body had made decisions his mind wasn't ready for. “You should go.” He finally said, not knowing what else to say to her.

[impuls1veworm]

I’m not kidding anymore, I need Davrin in a way that’s concerning to modern feminism

[kenm4vhs]

sorry for the noise that’s just me barking

[alot0ftea]

ANTHING 4 YOU MY KING

[sabaliciouss009]

ugh i would let him use me nd abuse me guys 😖🙏🏼

also please don’t be afraid to follow me i love all uu guys 😚

and thank you for 20 notes on my first post 🥰🥰 !!

[cinnamonbungirl]

my heart stops everytime i see these pics of him

GOOD LORD

[c2-eh]

oh my GOD

[ihavenointerestinreallife]

thinking about homelander and tracking his s/o’s cycle… 18+

—

definitely don’t think he’d have an app or anything like his partner would, he’d just know. he’d know exactly when your emotions are high, the moment the bleeding begins– and he’d definitely know when you were ovulating.

in fact i think knowing your ovulation window is one of the things he’s the most knowledgeable about. he dreams about fucking you every single night that you’re in that time period, and you’d be stupid to think you were getting away with getting pumped full of his cum just once in a day.

you see, homelander’s biggest desire– after reforming america to his image, that is– is seeing your belly swollen with his offspring. if there’s anything that could excite him more than the reflection of himself in the mirror, it would be the physical embodiment of himself in your arms.

so when you’re home one night, windows open and fans blaring, your sticky body sprawled out on the bed wearing practically nothing trying to escape the heat, you weren’t surprised when your lovers footsteps were faster and more eager to get to you than normal.

he could see you from a mile away in just a small tank top and panties– could smell the sweat on your body, the heat between your legs especially. his silhouette stood in the doorway, wind from the outside messing up his hair from the day. he looked animalistic with his lips thinned down into a frown and his eyes slightly crimson.

the two of you exchanged no words, only sounds. sounds of skin colliding, the bed creaking underneath his weight, and homelander finding his head between your thighs before you could blink. he relished in the way your cunt was already sopping for him before you even saw him, as if your body knew he was coming.

your head fell back against the headboard with a small thud, but all you could worry about was how sensitive your clit was versus how it normally is, and how when his gloved fingers slipped inside you thought you were going to cum right then and there.

and honestly, you would, and you did. usually he’d force you to beg to even become deserving of such a reward, but tonight all he craved was forming you into his perfect image of a mother. he felt your walls clamp tightly around his fingers, and he thought right then and there you were the woman he was destined to be with.

when he came back up your lips collided feverishly, teeth almost clanging together with how eager the two of you were. the heat had ramped up, but all you could complain about now was the clothes separating the two of you from being skin to skin.

the fat tip of his cock rubbed teasingly against your clit, “could smell her aching for me from the elevator, fuck..” you knew he couldn’t tease you for much longer, it only took a moment for him to push past your opening and stretch you apart. your cunt had become accustomed to the burn that accompanied him, but instead of pain it always brought you pleasure.

“i– fuck– i’ve been in this fucking apartment all day just needing you, craving you.” you whined, hands reaching out to grab at his hair. homelander said nothing, instead laughing in response, because he’d be a fool if he didn’t already know.

“i know baby, i can tell by the way your pussy is gripping me, shit, it’s like you haven’t been fucked in weeks,” he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to make eye contact with him, “but we both know i’d never let you go that long without getting fucked like the whore you are.”

your walls clamped around him at his words of degradation, your fists tightening in his scalp. he laughed at your reaction again because he just knew this would happen, he’d been waiting for it for days.

“you want me to cum inside this pretty little pussy? huh?” his grip on your jaw is steadfast, his speed in which he thrusted into you only increasing as he got closer to his release.

“yes, please homelander,” he loved when you used his supe name during rough sex, “need you to cum inside..”

his breath hitched at your own admittance, thrusts slowing for a moment before catching their original speed again. “if you want it so bad, cum then. cum on my dick like i know you fucking want to, you little slut.” his tone was harsh and demanding, and you felt your stomach warm with some kind of sick butterflies.

your thighs began to shake underneath him, and with a couple more thrusts you gave in to the white light begging to shroud your vision. your walls clenched and signaled your orgasm, thought it was quite obvious from the gush of fluid that coated his pelvis.

homelander came right then and there, finally allowing the load he'd been holding in to coat your insides, fulfilling the silent promise that he'd get you pregnant.

[ringosmistress]

[blissfulbluee]

Sang-woo is better than me because if I encountered Gi-hun in this ugly lame ass outfit you wouldn’t be able to get me off of him.

[nottrusttworthy]

Callum Turner — someone in the mirror

[kenm4vhs]

god he's so batshit insane 🥵

[whoisspence]

he NEEDS to stop doing the tongue thing or i'm gonna actually lose it