#I travelled the world and the seven seas

[dollya-robinprotector]

The sweetest, sweetest feeling

Is knowing full well that I draw better, understand anatomy better, and improving faster than them...

Sweet, sweet feeling, making me try harder, learn better, and practice with such high determination.

[alexcomet]

Yeah like cool song and all that, like, nice song right? But who WANTS to be abused?

[ask-enchantingdelights]

☁️🫧Sweet dreams are made of this 🫧☁️

[curltee]

Veneer when talking: 💅💅💅

Veneer when singing: 🤠🤠🤠

[yakny]

"the morally ambiguous man before him, encompassing the blurry line between coercion and persuasion"

I present to you: The Handler

[trans-estinien]

Oh no it's unhinged Azem thoughts hours

[princess099]

.

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

[dirtyvulture]

Envy and Venom

Heiress!Natasha Romanoff x CEO!Beefy!Fem!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Summary: You are the notorious playboy who just inherited one of the biggest tech companies in the world. Your first move? Sleeping with the heiress of your rival company.

Word count: 4190

AN: Randomly came up with this idea, it's a little different than my other stuff, but give it a read. :)

DAY 1

“You couldn’t have picked a better person for the job,” you tease, gripping tightly onto your father’s hand as the sea of flashing lights fifteen feet away practically blinds you. The reporters call out for your attention but you ignore them, pausing in the awkward, hand-holding pose with your father so the photo can be plastered across the front page of news outlets around the world. 

“I trust you. Don’t ruin what I’ve started,” your father says, grabbing onto your shoulder and pulling you into a tight embrace. “And please try to keep your…escapades…a little more under wraps, okay?” he whispers into your ear. 

“I’ll try, Dad,” you say, but it isn’t really your fault that the public was so interested in what goes on in your bedroom. Then again, you hadn’t exactly been trying to be subtle when you were fucking your secretary against the penthouse window of your apartment, but people should try to mind their own business more. 

Your father pushes you back and the two of you turn in unison to wave at the crowd once more. 

“Congratulations!” you hear them echoing. “To Envy Industries’ new CEO, Y/N!”

***********************************************************************

Naturally, to celebrate your latest achievement, you host the party of the century, inviting other world-renowned millionaires, fellow tech company gurus, actors, singers, celebrities, and pretty much anyone else who fit society’s thinly-veiled description of “famous.” You initially show up with two models you had already spent the afternoon with, but you weren’t interested in stringing them along and were excited to find some new target to chase after. 

The first hour alone is spent wading through faces you recognize from online but have no personal connection with, and you have to pretend that you’re grateful when they take enough interest and ask about the future of your company. 

“We’ll probably stick to the production of GPUs for a while,” you say, yelling to be heard over the music and rumble of people. “We just signed a huge contract with Tesla, so we’ll be supplying all the hardware they need for their next products. They have a big need for AI software, and we’re one of the few companies that can build exactly what they need.”

“Wow, that’s very impressive.” The short-haired blonde woman suddenly throws herself at you, her nails digging into your bicep so hard you can feel the prick through your burgundy silk jacket.

“Thank you.” You’re not sure you’ve ever seen this woman before in your life and you wonder if she even understood half of what you were saying or she was just trying to get into your pants.

“I’m Carol, by the way. Do you want to get a drink?”

“I would never say no to a drink.” You let Carol lead you to the bar (that you are footing the bill for) and she orders for you, picking an old-fashioned cocktail for you. A decent choice, but if she had read your interview in The Chief Executive Magazine, she would have known that your favorite drink was actually a vodka martini. You join her at an empty table.

“So, what do you do for a living?” you ask out of politeness, taking a sip and letting the whiskey burn your throat.  

“I’m an influencer,” Carol says. “I have one-point-seven million followers on Tik Tok right now. I mostly post fitness routines or travel vlogs. And I also stream video games on Twitch.”

“Ah.” Now it’s your turn to act like you’re impressed when you have no idea what she’s talking about. 

Carol drones on about her next project, which involves a collaboration with another influencer you’ve never heard of. Your eyes scan the people walking by, looking for a new object of infatuation. It doesn’t take long until you make eye contact with a beautiful, redheaded woman, her voluptuous body hugged by an emerald green dress. Immediately, your heart rate spikes as you scan her up and down, not predatorily, but admiringly. The neckline of her dress plunges down to her belly button, a tasteful hint of her cleavage showing through, highlighted by a long  silver necklace with a thin gold bar tassel. 

You perk up, smoothing your hair back and puffing out your chest like a proud pigeon when she starts walking over.

“Congratulations,” the redhead says. “Your family must be very proud of you.”

“My dad didn’t want to give it to me,” you admit, completely oblivious to Carol’s pout as you instantly give your attention to this new woman. “But I convinced him the company would be in good hands.”

“I bet.”

“Can I get you a drink?” you ask, desperate to keep around for the conversation (and perhaps more).

“I should be the one treating you,” the redhead says. She takes the cocktail out of your hands and brings it to her lips. “Hmm. I didn’t think this was your taste,” she notes. “How does a vodka martini sound?”

You know instantly this is the woman you’re taking home with you tonight. “That sounds delightful.”

***********************************************************************

You ditch Carol without a second thought and follow the redhead back to the bar, where she picks up two vodka martinis. She brings you to a private booth, sitting so close to you that your knees are touching hers. You can almost feel her body heat through the fabric of your clothes. 

“To Envy Industries’ long and prosperous future,” she says, raising her drink in a toast.

“Cheers.” You clink your glass to hers and drink half of it in one long sip, smiling in satisfaction. “I didn’t catch your name,” you say.

“Natasha.” It sparks a familiar memory, a name you’ve heard before. But she’s so intoxicating that you give it no second thought. Natasha is one of the most gorgeous women you’ve ever seen in your life and you can’t believe she’s sitting here talking to you and you alone.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you say, formally offering her your hand. She shakes it, and you gently bring her hand up to your lips to kiss her knuckles.

“Likewise,” she says, crossing one perfectly toned leg over the other, her foot nudging the back of your calf. “Not to eavesdrop, but I overheard you mention a contract with Tesla. Say what you want about that company, but you can’t deny the evidence that they’re one of the highest valued companies in the world. I wouldn’t be surprised if Envy Industries is soon up there with them.”

“Exactly.” Your interest in this woman skyrockets, because you know she isn’t bullshitting you. She isn’t like Carol. She knows what she’s talking about. 

“We’ve been trying to strike deals with the automotive industry for years,” Natasha goes on, “But you’ve beat us to it. And now that you’ve partnered up with Tesla, you’re basically unstoppable.”

“Not quite,” you correct, now unable to stop yourself from unraveling the schemes of your company’s next five years. “Our research on artificial intelligence is just getting started. We just applied for ten new patents within computing technologies and we’re on track to absolutely dominate the market for discrete graphics processing units by the end of the year.” 

Natasha grins at your enthusiasm and you feel yourself blush in embarrassment. You know the media often labeled you as stupid, reckless, irresponsible, unfit to lead, and constantly bashed your sexual appetite, but you were all those things and a technology genius. Your father had built this company from the ground up, but you had been there alongside him the past six years. While everyone classified your promotion to CEO as nepotism, you felt you had rightfully earned it. 

“I don’t know how you do it,” she comments.

“Well, it definitely wouldn’t be wise for the new CEO to be giving away all the secrets, now would it?” you chuckle, even though you’ve definitely already said more than you should’ve. 

“Your success is no trade secret.” Natasha turns her whole body to face you. The attention she’s giving you is almost more than you can bear. Your heart pounds against your chest. No woman has ever made you this excited before. “But if you want, maybe we can go somewhere a little more private, where you can share whatever else you’d like.”

“Hmm.” It was rare for another woman to be so bold with you. But you’ve never lusted after another woman like Natasha before. Arousal heats up in your stomach as Natasha leans forward, resting her hand on your thigh and squeezing it teasingly. Her breath fans over your face and you can smell the vodka and her cherry lipstick. You lean forward to meet her, moving like you’re in a dream, fireworks sparking in the back of your head the moment your lips touch. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with the carnal desire to drag this woman up to your penthouse and have her squirming underneath you, crying out your name as she comes undone.

“Um, would you like to…” You can hardly think straight. “My room…apartment…is upstairs…if you want to…”

“Show me the way,” Natasha says, standing up and offering you her hand.

***********************************************************************

Your brain is swirling in a fog as you follow Natasha to the elevator. You don’t even register any of the people you pass, fully aware of the fact that someone will report this headline to the National Enquirer, at the very least. But all the worries of the future disappear the moment the elevator doors close and Natasha throws herself at you, her legs hooking around your narrow waist and her heels digging into the small of your back. Your hands support her supple bottom, squeezing in appreciation as her lips crash against yours in a desperate frenzy. 

You stumble into the wall, smashing your hand onto the top floor button and feeling the elevator start to rise, but not fast enough. 

“Lucky me,” Natasha pants between kisses. “Getting to go home with the newly-christened CEO of Envy Industries.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman here tonight,” you respond, heat rising between your legs. “Of course you were coming home with me.”

Natasha glows with the praise and pulls your head into her chest, where you instinctively lick and nip at the flesh of her exposed breasts and she keens at the attention. When the elevator doors open again, you stumble out with her still in your arms, your feet automatically taking you down the path to your apartment. Thankfully, your apartment door opens automatically when your key card is in range, so you’re able to kick it open with your foot, without having to put her down.   

You carry her straight to the bedroom, dropping her on the freshly-changed sheets you had housekeeping put on after you were done with the two models from earlier. You can hardly remember your time with them and your body is practically vibrating in anticipation like you haven’t had sex in years. You crawl on top of Natasha, lowering yourself to kiss her again, this time with more passion and her arms snake over your broad back, pressing your body against hers.  

“I need to get you out of this dress,” you pant, desperate for skin-to-skin contact with her. 

“You first,” she says, releasing you as you sit up, yanking off your jacket and throwing it to the floor. You’re annoyed at your choice of shirt, a white button-up that has way too many buttons, as you impatiently pop them off one at a time and remove your bra. Natasha watches you with hunger in her eyes and you’ve never felt more proud to reveal yourself to another partner. The daily, painful 2-hour visits to the gym and strict adherence to a customized diet showed in your chiseled physique, your biceps bulging like you had baseballs under your skin, your perfect washboard abs, and your thighs were sturdier than tree trunks. 

“Fuck,” she mutters, reaching up to run her hand across your abs like she can’t believe you’re really in front of her. “I could look at you all day.”

It’s a common reaction most people have, but it definitely heats you up more when it comes from Natasha. “Your turn, gorgeous.” 

She sits up and turns around so you can access the zipper of her dress. You sweep her hair to the side, stealing a kiss to her neck because you really can’t help yourself. Natasha hums in appreciation and you lower her zipper slowly. Her dress pools at her waist like a glimmering green puddle. She isn’t wearing a bra so your hands immediately gravitate to cup her breasts, and she arches her back against your bare chest. 

“Are you gonna fuck me the same way you do to every girl you have in here?” she asks, placing one of her hands over yours and guiding it down her stomach, where your fingers part through her soaking folds. 

“If you want me to,” you say, pressing deeper into her and she whines at your touch. “But I’ll give you whatever you want.” Normally, you enjoy being in full control in the bedroom, but you are absolutely willing to give that up if it pleases Natasha. 

She suddenly pushes your hand away from her center; you can still feel traces of her stickiness on your fingers. “Do you have a strap? I want to ride you.”

Your stomach flips at the thought of her on top of you, grinding down on you until she finishes. Her heaving bosom in your face for you to suck and kiss while she enjoys the orgasm you gave her. 

“Yeah, let me grab it.” While you launch yourself off the bed to go fishing around your nightstand drawer, Natasha nudges her dress to the floor and delicately removes her long necklace, settling back comfortably on your king-sized bed while she waits for you. You take off your pants and pull the harness over your waist, turning back to the mouth-watering sight of her naked and ready for your taking. Her body is toned and curved in all the right places: clearly, she respected her body as much as you did to yours. There are few things you love more than a woman who takes care of herself.

You climb back onto the bed and Natasha pounces on you while you’re still getting into position, holding onto your biceps to pin you down. You catch sight of her glimmering wetness as she drags herself along your abs, pressing back against your cock until it rubs against her butt. You reach over to grab the bottle of lube always present on your nightstand and squirt a generous glob onto your strap, not that it looks like Natasha will need it. 

“Look how wet you are. You’ve been waiting for this all night, sweetheart?” you tease, your hands running up and down her sides. Natasha takes you by surprise when she shoves you back against the headboard.  

“Shut up and let me fuck you,” she growls, her voice dangerously dropping an octave. Natasha lifts herself up to line herself with the head of your cock and slides down in one move. The slick noise as it fills her is downright sinful. Your big hands wrap around her tiny waist, guiding her to bounce in an aggressive rhythm as the two of you watch your cock disappear inside of her. 

“Fuck, Y/N,” she moans, throwing her head back, red hair spilling over her shoulders. “That feels so good.”

“Look how well you’re taking me,” you praise, your hips jerking up to match her rhythm. Even though you can’t necessarily feel it, you swear her pussy is clenching around the toy, greedily sucking you in and requiring physical effort to pull out. Your own clit is throbbing as the toy bumps it every time Natasha slams down on your thighs. 

“Deeper, babe. Go deeper,” Natasha begs, moving her hands from your shoulders to the headboard, grabbing it so firmly you hear the wood crack. You change the angle of your hips, punching them up to satisfy her command. The bed frame creaks and shakes; you know your father would be unhappy to hear he has to order you a new one so soon, but you can’t be bothered to care right now.

“Fuck, right there. That’s it,” Natasha moans, rolling her hips with such fluidity it makes your stomach clench. She looks down at you, admiring the flex of your muscles as you do your best to please her, a singular bead of sweat running over your collarbone and sliding down between your breasts. 

“I’m close. I’m almost fucking there,” she warns, her hips beginning to lose their rhythm. But you keep your intense pace, until your abs are cramping and you’re certain there are bruises on your thighs. Your own arousal burns like a ball of white-hot fire and you so desperately want to make this woman cum you will gladly ignore the ache of your own orgasm for hers. 

“You’re fucking me too well, baby. I’m gonna lose it,” Natasha pants and the praise almost breaks your control. She throws her head back as she finishes and you bury your face in her heaving chest, tasting the sweat on her skin and sucking one of her nipples into your mouth. Her hand abandons the headboard to tangle in your hair, yanking almost painfully at your roots while you feel her cum spill onto your lap. She pushes your head away once she’s done, your lips parting from her nipple with a string of saliva, and lifts herself off your cock. The two of you are panting in unison, while you’re still fighting the simmer of arousal in your gut.

“Hmm, that was nice. Do you normally let your partner finish first?” she asks, resting her hands on your chest again. “I didn’t think you were the type.”

Your face burns in embarrassment because she’s not wrong. “Um…no,” you admit, knowing full well you could lie, but you feel like she’ll be able to see through it.

Natasha smirks. “Such a gentlewoman with me,” she says, bending over to kiss you, this time much more softly than before. 

“Only for you,” you murmur back, shocked at how whipped you already are for her. 

“You want me to help you finish?” Natasha asks, pushing the strap aside to brush her fingers across your hot center. Your hips jerk off the bed, almost launching Natasha into the air. “I’ll take that as a yes,” she giggles, climbing off your lap and helping you pull the strap off your waist. You’re practically frozen in anticipation, watching with bated breath as Natasha scoots herself down the bed and lowers her head between your legs.

You melt at the feeling of her mouth against your center, perfectly hot and wet. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue glides through your folds, lapping up the mixture of body fluids like it’s some kind life-saving elixir. 

“Shit, baby, that feels amazing,” you moan, burying one of your hands in her red tresses, motioning with your hips that you want her deeper. She obliges by wrapping her lips around your clit and giving it a few hard sucks that have you seeing white stars behind your eyelids. You let go of her hair, afraid you’ll tear it out and grab onto the Egyptian cotton sheets tightly. Her tongue pushes into you and you swear you convulse around it, already leaking into her mouth when she’s only just started to go down on you.

Natasha’s arms wrap around your powerful thighs, trying to force them apart as you close them around her head. You don’t mean to put her in awkward, even dangerous position, but you can’t think about anything other than the pulsing in your center, soothed and encouraged by the heat of Natasha’s mouth. You dig your heels into the mattress to prevent yourself from bouncing across the bed at the rocking motion your body had adopted to maximize your pleasure. Every time her tongue slips into you, the muscles in your stomach contract so sharply it almost hurts, and when she laps at your clit, the stimulation is so great you feel immediately dizzy.

“Natasha,” you pant, unable to hold out any longer. “I’m gonna…Please let me…” 

She presses into you with even more enthusiasm than before and your body seizes as you release yourself into her mouth. Natasha eagerly collects all your slick, her red lipstick smeared on the insides of your thighs.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you moan, feeling your high is going to last forever. But just the sensations start to fizz, you realize Natasha still has her iron grip on your legs, keeping them spread apart.

“I want another,” she demands, in a sultry tone that almost pulls the second orgasm from you right there.

“Natasha,” you whine, fearing you are too sensitive to deliver her wishes. You twist your body back and forth, half-heartedly trying to free yourself. But Natasha won’t let you, lowering her head to your heat and taking what she wants. Overly stimulated, every muscle in your body goes rigid as fireworks of pleasure, bordering the line of painful, explode inside of you. Natasha’s tongue somehow reaches even deeper than she had the first time, the tip pressing against your front ridged wall and you lose it for the second time in minutes.

“Oh, fuck!” you cry, your back arching off the bed but Natasha holds your waist down, determined to not let a drop of your essence go to waste. Your head is spinning and your body is like a live wire of excitement, twitching and trembling until you have no more energy left and and you melt into a limp mess.

Natasha kisses up your abs, between your breasts and licks at the column of your sweaty throat. Her lips finally connect with yours and you can taste a hint of yourself mixed with hers. You can’t wait to taste her straight from the source, but it’s going to take a bit of time to find the strength to move after two back-to-back orgasms. She wraps her arms around your torso, nuzzling into the side of your chest and inhaling deeply.

There is a long, but not uncomfortable silence as you two of you find your breath.

“I’m not letting you leave until you sit on my face,” you finally say. Natasha looks up at you with a satisfied grin.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she says, crawling up so she can do just that.

***********************************************************************

The moment Natasha made eye contact with you, she knew you were done for. You were far too predictable. She knew exactly the kind of woman you chased after. She knew what she needed to say to catch your attention, to convince you that she deserved a private moment with you.

You were too easy.

When you were so busy looking at her lips, trying to figure out when the right moment to kiss her was, you didn’t notice her take your phone out of your pocket, plug a flash drive into the charging slot, and return it back to your pocket in record time.

As you carry her in the elevator, your face buried in her breasts while she slips a tiny audio recorder into the pocket of your blazer. Through the fog of pure lust for you, Natasha struggles to but succeeds in making a mental map of your apartment. Where your office is, how many computers you have.

After numerous orgasms, she’s sufficiently fucked your brains out and cuddled with you long enough for you to pass out into an impossibly deep slumber, she gets up and heads into your office. She doesn’t need more than five minutes to hack into your devices and steal all the data saved on them. She chuckles to herself at how easy the task is; if she had known it would’ve been this simple and enjoyable, she would’ve come after you a long time ago.

Natasha gathers all her things and excuses herself from your apartment without a good-bye.

***********************************************************************

DAY 2

When you wake up the next morning, your mind a haze from the absolute debauchery that occurred the previous night. You rub your eyes and roll over, finding yourself naked and alone in bed. There is a deep soreness in your body, in almost every muscle, and some you haven’t felt for a long time. Natasha’s scent of vanilla and cherry lingers, but she’s nowhere to be found.

“Fuck,” you grumble, reaching for your phone on the nightstand. It’s been blowing up with notifications, which is a little unusual, but you assume it’s mostly from friends still congratulating you on your promotion. You open a text from your best friend and work partner, Tony.

From Tony: You fucked up, dude.

He included a link to a TMZ article. You click on it, half-wondering if it’ll send you to some troll site. The headline reads:

New CEO of Envy Industries Y/N spotted getting cozy with Black Widow Corp. heiress Natasha Romanoff 

Everything clicks to you now.

“Oh, fuck.”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

AN: Click here for Part 2!

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[princesseggisalittlesad]

Sweet dream I was inspired by the song: Sweet dreams are made of this Who am I to disagree Travel the world and the seven seas Everybody’s looking for something Some of them want to use you Some of them want to get used by you Some of them want to abuse you Some of them want to be abused Emily Browning — Sweet Dreams

I'm planning a frame-by-frame continuation of this art

[folkloresthings]

TOLERATE IT / FA14.

in which the older sister of lando norris finds herself teetering dangerously towards the precipice of her brother’s, significantly older, colleague.

( fernando alonso x norris!reader )

track one: gold rush. track two: delicate. track three: labyrinth. track four: false god. track five: happiness. track six: the 1. track seven: daylight. track eight: lover.

✩⡱ warnings: age gap! reader is 25, fernando is 41. some cursing and sexual references.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by pierregasly, christianhorner, and 938,847 others

f1 We are so delighted to announce our new F1 x Red Cross Ambassador, Y/N Norris! Y/N went straight from Oxford University into the world of charity work. She has worked with the Red Cross for over 4 years and will now be working alongside Formula 1 in our ongoing support of the charity’s campaigns. Keep an eye out for our future fundraising events, auctions, and other exciting things!

view all 798,211 comments

landonorris go sister that’s my sister!!

danielricciardo does this mean more y/n in the paddock? because that will make race weekend so much more enjoyable

⤷ yourusername indeed it will honey badger 🫡 if you ever need a sub to drive for you, i’m in

user nepo baby job. she’s only working with f1 because her brother’s lando norris

⤷ user it’s f1 we’re talking about, they’re ALL nepo babies. at least y/n has been working with charities for years, it’s not completely random

fernandoalo_official great news!! see you on the paddock yourusername

comment liked by yourusername and 849 others

hungary was warmer than you had expected, that humid sort of heat that made you feel yucky no matter how many times you’d showered. but amongst the sea of sweaty drivers and mechanics, it could have felt much worse. lando had given you the grand tour of the paddock and track but duty called, and with your brother called off to some interview, you were left trackside.

there were no cars due to be on the track, so you were able to get as close as possibly. for years you’d gone to your brothers races, listened to his fanatic rants, and tried so hard to understand why he loved the sport so much. but now, standing and looking out at the quiet track, you started to understand the beauty.

“hello, again.” you jumped a little, the voice cutting through the peace. when you turned, you found fernando on the other side of the pit wall, looking at you through the gap in the fence. you chuckled, feeling caught, looking up at him.

“hi there,” you greeted, blinking innocently. but behind those eyes were little innocence, same as his own. you hadn’t slept with the driver, you weren’t that quick, but the night he’d spent in your apartment was long. wondering kisses, stolen touches, hesitance to leave. you both wanted more, but neither wanted to give in.

“you’re tagging along for the season, then?” he asks, eyes gleaming with possibility. you nod, humming quietly. as excited as you were for this job, another kind of excitement came knowing you’d be seeing fernando every weekend. “first time in hungary?”

“no, second. i travelled with some of my girlfriends during uni and we stopped in budapest for a few days — though i don’t remember most of it,” you admitted, cheeks turning red at the memory. he laughed, head thrown back with pure delight. it made your stomach twist endlessly.

“well, let me refresh your memory. i’ll take you to dinner tonight,” he offers, charming as ever. your brows raise, trying to differentiate his flirtations from his sincerity. “consider it a congratulations on the new job.”

you’re getting ready to refuse, knowing how lando would react and the complications it would bring, when fernando’s hand slipped through the pit wall railing, brushing over yours until it rests on top. you look down, noticing just how much bigger his hand is than yours. stronger, too, with more defined knuckles and much more worn down from years of driving.

“please say yes,” he whispers, even though there’s no one else around, and squeezes your hand softly. you sigh, meeting his deadly gaze once more.

“alright. but i want italian food.”

INSTAGRAM.

liked by charles_leclerc, fernandoalo_official, and 877,153 other

yourusername how’d you turn it right around?

view all 619,553 comments

user A MAN’S HAND

lilymhe literally the prettiest girl ever

carlossainz55 hermosa 😍

⤷ user is carlos the mystery man ??????

landonorris i let you out of my sight for five minutes JEEZ

landonorris now who is he so i can break his hands

TWITTER.

IMESSAGE.

writers note: lando stop cockblocking. also that b&w pic of flo is one of my favourites ever i can’t stop staring at it

[0rb1s]

Y'all wanted the Pokemon Au y'all getting the Pokemon au, explanations for the Pokemon and more Au info under the cut. Feel free to put questions about the Au in my Ask box

The Au is focused on Pirate captains being Pokemon trainers and their crew their Pokemon, with exceptions like non pirate characters who have Pokemon based on their personalitys.

The world is a mix out of the op world and Pokemon universe, so instead of canon Pokemon regions the regions are based of the op islands, as an example, Luffy is from the Goa Region and travels to other Regions like the Alabasta region or Wano region, in order to beat the strongest trainers in each place he visits in order to become world champion.

Luffys team

Zoro as Chine-Pao: Zoro is often associated with tigers (big cats) and obviously his swords. Luffy also meets him for the first time while he is tied up, wich can parallel how you optain a Chien-Pao wich is locked away

Nami as Liepard: Luffy would meet Nami as a Purloin, wich are known for tricking and stealing from people, her title is also “Cat burgler”

Usopp as Inteleon: Luffy would meet Usopp as a Wobble, since he's such a coward at the start of the series. He would evolve into Drizzile during Water 7 and latter into Inteleon. Inteleon was kind of a no brainer since it's the only sniper Pokemon.

Sanji as Cinderac: Cinderace's Signature move is a Flame kick of sorts. Luffy would meet him as a Raboot, and evolves intomCinderace during Enies Lobby. (British opla sanji…)

Chopper as Sawsbuck: Reindeer, Cheery blossoms.

Robin as Runerigus: Robin is an archaeologists who specifies in finding all of the poneglyphs so her Pokemon being made out off rune tablets makes a lot of sense. Plus the ghost typing can be a hint to her title of “Devil child”

Franky as Blastoise: Franky is basically a weapon himself so making him the literal Tank turtle makes sense to me, also remember the Squirtle with the sunglasses? yeah.

Brook as Houndstone: There aren't a lot of skeleton Pokemon so there was little choice. Houndstones is part of the Ghost gym leaders team, who is a Musician.

Jinbei as Empoleon: Jinbei used to be one of the seven warlords of the sea and is a very honorable person wich works with the personality of Empoleons. He's also shown using a Trident as a weapon.

Kobys team

Milotic: Both of them start of as ugly little loser boys but have one hell of a glow up /affectionate + Milotic would be a great swimming buddy.

Lycanroc: (dog boy koby is so real to me) Dog Pokemon, though more commonly Arcanine, are used as police Pokemon, most likely given to him by Garp.

Gallade: The Fighting type fits Kobys swinging hand approach well and the Psychic type his Observation haki plus being quite the noble Pokemon.

Togekiss: A flying type to reference his Moonwalk ability and generally seeming like a Pokemon would put the effort into raising.

Lucario: dog.. Again, Another Pokemon I feel like Koby would put the effort into raising, fighting type, and the Aura gimmick just matches the vibe as well yk.

Blissey: A healer Pokemon that would assist both hurt trainers and Pokemon, god knows it's good to have one on you when you travel with Luffy.

[unholyhelbig]

I just want to say I'm already hooked on the beast you made me. I can't wait for the next chapter!

Center picture Cred: Jadiakallisti

Title: The Beast You've Made of Me [Part 2/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Wordcount: 5151

Summary: When reader wakes up in her own grave, she's suddenly aware of a past that spans lifetimes, but she's not the only one. Two Avengers are tasked with keeping readers past a secret, or at the very least, controlled.

Warnings: Blood, fatal injuries, animal bones, mentions of death, containment, and horrible grammar because I don't proofread

[a/n: Thank you all for the overwelming support on the first chapter! I truly didn't expect that much reception. I'm going to be traveling for the next week so the next chapter might be delayed a bit]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

1917, Rural Pennsylvania

A sweeping river cut through the patch of sweetgrass on the south side of the farm. It emitted a gurgling sound that often soothed your nerves. There was a rocky clearing sandwiched between the tree line and the plain of grass that had become a perfect spot for you to settle in and read the hard-covered books you’d gotten from the corner store.

Your father would bring back any book you requested from the city during his travels. You devoured them faster than he could provide them and had read ‘Eight Cousins’ ,Lousia May Alcott’s foray into the adventures thirteen-year-old Rose, enough to nearly tear the pages from the binding.

The book itself held the clean honeyed scent of the earth, of the secluded spot that you called your own. Your muscles would thrum from loading the bales of hay into your fathers ford. Your fingers were calloused, and dirt caked around your ankle in a dark ring. All of that vanished when you cracked open the book about a girl that was so much like yourself.

It was easy to lose yourself in the paragraphs, the hum of the river sometimes lulling you to sleep. Your mother would pack you a sandwich on warm, hand-kneaded bread, usually some salted meat and mayonnaise. She’d pack sweet tea and send you on your way, knowing that you wouldn’t return to the house until you saw a flicker of a firefly.

Today, you’d fallen asleep under the sun. The book was discarded, and your forearm draped across your eyes. It was easy to drift, and easier still to dream about leaving the small dairy farm for something bigger- the very city that your father would return from with new literature and arts, and spices that made your mouth buzz with flavor.

You were in a haze when the ear-piercing scream cut through the air as if it were a natural solid. Your ears pinched at the sound, heels digging into the coarse sandy shore. Maybe it was a dream. It could have been an animal that had sunk its pointed teeth into the artery of another.

So, you waited, panting with your heart in your chest and the corner of the book barely lapped by the muddied water. And there was this sound. It was no fox caught in a trap or bovine tangled up in the barbed wire fence around the property- no, this was familiar. This was your sister.

Helena was quiet, often described as demure and borderline submissive. Despite being younger than yourself she carried a certain poise about her. Mother would often boast about how she would have no trouble finding a husband, how the boys already fawned over the child of hers that was not feral and unkempt.

Her cry was the loudest you had ever heard her and it had you on your feet, scrambling up the bank. Once past your small world of wonder, you were greeted with an endless sea of sweetgrass that was waist high in some areas.

A warm breeze created waves against the landscape, the farmhouse a small speck among the expanse of land. Your head was spinning, it was hard to track exactly where it had come from. It took another cracking screech to set you North.

Your legs pumped until you were consumed in a blind speed. You’d been renowned for your quickness, for your dedication to get from point A to point B. The kids in your town often joked that you were steadier than a steed. Not only were you the fastest in the class, but the fastest in the county according to some. Still- only a child of fifteen, and no man would want to wed someone with speed. It wasn’t a practical skill.

There was a pit deep in your stomach whirled, instinct knowing precisely where Helena was yowling from.

Jorge had gotten there at the same time you did; his brow was leaking with sweat and he panted against the hot air that surrounded you both. Your older brother was tall and lanky, serpent-like with beady black eyes and pitch hair to match your father’s. His shirt hung low against his midsection, his skin pale despite his hours in the sun working the fields.

“Stay back, y/n.” He demanded sharply.

The old well was a mere foot in front of you both but neither made the effort to move forward. The aged wooden plank that covered the stone shaft had been splintered through the middle, worn from age and weather.

Helena’s soft cries echoed up. When your father had first acquired the property, the previous owners explained that it had been boarded up after of the bulls had fallen down and snapped it’s neck. It was too large to pull out and they left it to starve and then rot.

Your father never let any of his children peer down into the well. You wondered if something had pulled Helena here, or if she had simply forgotten of it’s existence. Jorge dropped down to his knees and did a cautious crawl as if his own two feet couldn’t’ hold him anymore.

You saw the exact moment his skin became waxier, almost a gray porcelain paleness that had a green tint. He was swallowing too much, his white shirt coated in the red clay dirt.

“What?” You asked, voice breaking “What is it?”

“Go get Mama.”

It would have been easy to listen to your brother. He was the man of the house when your father wasn’t there but with him pleading for your mother, for an adult, you got a rancid taste in your mouth.

Against your better judgement you edged close enough to the abandoned well. The sun was setting in a fire-filled orange haze with enough color and angle to get a good view of the bottom; a slosh of fallen grass and rainwater, and muck, and yes; the bones of a beast once left to decay and rot in its own silence.

Your sister was wedged within the ribcage of the befallen bull, almost as if she replaced the beating heart that stopped pulsing long ago. Her hands gripped at the sun-bleached bone, knuckles nearly the same color.

It took you a moment to make out the slick, and the red that stemmed from the center of her stomach. The head of the bull had shattered under her weight, all expect the stretching length of it’s curved horn. That was wedged through her abdomen, surrounded in a vibrant rose red that puddled and had already coated her hands.

Prints from her struggle were against the limestone edges of the well. Her eyes pleaded up at you; your kind and caring, and animal-loving sister was trapped inside the remains of one. You fought back the urge to vomit, the rash thought that if the bone ripping through her flesh didn’t kill her, then infection would.

“Y/n get mama!” Jorge hissed again, and this time you didn’t hesitate. You nearly tripped over your own boots with the fever it took to back away from the scene, the metallic scent of blood mixing deliciously with the turn of rotted soil.

You had never run so fast in your life.

Wanda Maximoff had never felt the cold that wormed its way to her bones before. It was the type of cold that almost wasn’t, a stinging, horrible feeling that had her startled from the folded metal chair. It collapsed within itself as the blinked the wine-dark color from her eyes.

She stumbled backward, only to be brought back to the starkness of the room by a soft grip on her elbow. Wanda allowed herself to be held, if not for stability but for comfort. Steve Rodgers had a welcoming hand on the small of her back, the other steadying her.

He was a solid force, and her reaction stirred him.

“Fuck,” the expletive fell from her lips, “Jesus Christ.”

There was quietness to the room in the aftershock of the fallen chair. It was nicer than a standard holding cell. The walls were cream colored, triple enforced to keep people like you inside. There was a bed bolted to the wall, a bunk that was almost like a summer camp endeavor.

A charged glass wall was blocking you from the rest of the world. It was seemingly unbreakable, and in this moment, so were you. Wanda didn’t want to test the glass, nor did she know how to make sense of the memories- your memories- that had flooded every inch of her body.

You were asleep, chest rising and falling at a normal pace, as if none of what Wanda had just seen was flitting around your mind. Soft snores pushed past your lips, one arm hanging over the side of the bed while the other followed the flow of your breathing as it rested on your chest.

Wanda didn’t understand the secrecy and the precaution that surrounded you. The Avengers compound was a constant ebb and flow of different heroes, Inhumans and mutants. What made you so different? What made you an 0-8-4?

It was a term that Natasha had used only once that was usually attached to objects, not a person. It was an object of unknown origin and in that case, it was a power-filled object from space. Space. She’d been through different dimensions, but that, for some reason, struck her as terrifying.

0-8-4’s were never brought here, but then again, they’d never been alive either. Steve had told her that your energy signal was off the charts, and that they wanted her to dig around your head. Something that she denied doing at first. It was an invasion of privacy.

But, there was a certain pleading within Captain America’s eyes that scared Wanda more than the personal rules she set for herself when it came to her power. What she had seen, what she had felt was barely scraping the surface of what your mind contained. She wasn’t keen on pushing past that barrier for the conclusion of that story. Was it even yours?

“What? Wanda, what is it?”

“I… I don’t” She shook her head, eyes hardening as she stared into Steve’s “Where did you find her?”

He hesitated to answer, his eyebrows furrowing before he looked away from the witches’ prying eyes. She’d been part of this team for years now and they were still reluctant with what they were willing to share. Wanda clenched her jaw, then unclenched it before her stare flashed back to your resting form.

There was a small frown that creased your features. You looked so… harmless. You had shifted, folded into yourself as if you were scratching the surface of what flashed before her. Your arm was folded under your head, knees flush to your chest. A small, beautiful whimper escaped you.

“She’s in distress, Steve.”

“Discomfort, more like. It’s better for all of us that she stays in there for right now. The last thing we want to do is harm anyone but if that requires some temporary-“

“Imprisonment?”

“Containment.” He said firmly, eyes hard. Wanda crossed her arms over her chest but stayed silent, letting him continue. She was sure she wouldn’t have been asked if not for her ability to worm her way into minds, to rearrange things. “What did you see?”

“A memory, one that can’t possibly be hers. The timeline doesn’t fit, this is a woman in her mid-twenties and who I saw was barely a teenager on a farmstead. To experience that much tragedy, that much fear and heartache.”

She started to pace, trying to not only work through her own thoughts, but yours as well. It could have been a story, and she was convinced of the fact save for the vividness. There was the feeling of grass tickling her arms and the sharp, undeniable stench of blood.

“Her younger sister died, fell through some rotted wood and fell to her death.” Wanda’s fingers pressed against the edge of her hairline. “She could have lived, but I have my doubts.”

He lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at her. His expression betrayed his compassion towards you, his stance uncomfortable with the topic. While the revelation was heartbreaking it hardly made you extraordinary. They’d all lost people, none had stirred Wanda as you did.

Wanda’s stare found his after darting to you once more, “Steve, I have the sinking feeling that what I saw was only scratching the surface. There are hundreds, maybe thousands, of memories that were pressing in on all sides.”

The sensation of being observed is what pulled you from your fitful sleep. Exhaustion had washed over you like a tidal wave, all at once and leaving your mouth dry like a spoonful of salt. There was a stiffness that rivaled that of the grave you’d crawled out of, and you hoped that it was all a dream.

You were in your bed, in your apartment, after having one too many drinks. It was a horrible stretching nightmare that had plunged you into one sea of darkness from another. But even you weren’t that naïve.

Just as you felt a stranger’s eyes on you now, you had felt the dirt under your nails, the cold sodium-filled takeout as you attempted to chew it. More than anything, you remembered the burning feeling of the Black Widow pressed fully against your back, bending you over Jenn’s kitchen counter.  

“I would prefer if you kept the feeling of my wife’s body against yours out of your mind.”

You shot up with a dizzying amount of quickness, heart suddenly in your chest. There was an imbalance to the bed that you were laying on. It was smaller than your own and unfamiliar. The room was stark white. It hurt your eyes and you had to blink the color away. You pressed the heels of your palms close to your eyes.

It felt as if you were locked in a glass shower with an audience and stage lights. The more you looked, the more you realized it was a room, something with no personal effects but a bed and a dimmer switch that you itched to utilize.

A pitcher of water was on an end table. It wasn’t color exactly, but it was more than the rest of your surroundings. Possibly with the worst manners you’d ever exhibited, you drank straight from the pitcher, not remembering the last time you had a drink. Suddenly, you were parched enough to soak your collar.

Despite your audience, you continued until you felt your stomach protest. You used the back of your hand to wipe away the moisture, black dirt was smeared across your skin. It was then, and only then, that you forced yourself to look past the walls of your prison, your enclosure.

“I didn’t mean to startle you,” The woman said, walking close to the glass. You could see her clearly now, there was an heir of recognition about her, in the same way that there had been with the Black Widow.

“You were in my head.”

“For a while. It’s my job. But your thoughts are also deafening.”

“Sorry,”

This woman was intoxicating. Alluring and beautiful in her presence. Her hair was tied up in a messy bun, a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt hugging her form. You weren’t positive what time it was- what day it was- but it could be late into the night. She looked like she was roused from sleep, and a part of you felt guilty for the fact.

“Don’t apologize, sweetie.” Her voice was much more tender than it had been a few moments ago. “You can’t control being brought back from the dead. A lot of trauma comes with that.”

You stood shakily and walked closer to the glass. They’d taken your shoes and the tile under your feet was frigid. You crossed your arms over your chest and shivered into yourself. You didn’t want to think about the fact that they had undressed you, probably taken your clothes for testing. Instead they left you in a blue set of scrubs.

You averted your stare from your own reflection, not willing or ready to look too hard. You’d much rather look at this stranger, your heart not slowing, your head pounding. Nothing but a simple pane of glass separated you.

“And I was brought back from the dead, wasn’t I? That wasn’t a fucked-up dream where I got hit by a car and then poof God, if there is one, decided that me of all people was worth bringing back.”

She lilted her head, quirked an amusing brow at you. A chill flushed down your spine and seemed to fizzle out at your toes. This woman was gorgeous and terrifying and made you want to squirm. But if this was prison, you had to assert dominance. Right? That’s what Wentworth taught you.

This cell didn’t look or feel like Wentworth, and this Warden had an amused smile tacked to her lips like she had heard your every thought. And she had. At least you assumed that she did. She’d mentioned her wife earlier, and the woman’s body against your own was plaguing you like a runaway freight train.

When she didn’t say anything, you clawed to fill the silence “I want to talk to Bruce.”

“Bruce? Honey, he’s off world.”

“Off… world.” You laughed, softly at first but then almost manically, tears forming in your eyes that you wiped away with your cold fingers. “No, no, that’s really cool. I worked a 9-5 and now I can’t talk to Bruce because he’s in Outer Space.”

“Maybe not outer space, maybe another dimension.”

You leveled her with a humorless glare. She had both of her hands up as if she wanted to comfort you, or the caged animal you had become. You had to give her credit, she seemed just as horrified as you were. She offered up a dim, faltering smile.

There wasn’t a way for you to process this in a gentle manner, there was no one to guide you through it other than Jenn. She’d done this before, lived a whole life that was flipped upside-down and she’d come out on the other side. It was the uncertainty that scared the hell out of you.

“You were in my head earlier,” You stopped suddenly, pressing your fingers against the glass. The woman didn’t flinch. Your frantic breath fogged with each exhalation. “Do you know why I came back?”

She shook her head, “No. Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

“No.” A weak chuckle, you let your hands drop. “At least we’re on the same page.”

The nurse they allowed to enter through the side of the containment unit took cautious steps towards you that made your chest ache. All your life, people had said how welcoming and kind you were; how they were never afraid to come to you with their worries. It had bothered you before the incident, before your death, but now you missed seeing the stare of those who didn’t harbor any fear.

She was small, a mouse of a thing that had pale blonde hair and startling blue eyes. Her name tag read Julia. Your mind rushed with the paths she’d taken to this place. She must be interning here, much too young to hold a classification herself.

Your finger twitched on your knee, palm sweaty. It’s heat radiated through the thin blue fabric of the pants they’d provided you with. You hated needles, always had. But, you struggled to stay still and the effect that had on poor nurse Julia was making you fidget more.

There was a scent about her. It was under the layers of hairspray, nail polish, and shea butter. It was a sweet metal that made your stomach swirl. Was it her sweat? You’d never smelt anything past walking by the bomb that was the boys locker room, and it certainly had never been this tantalizing before.

Your eyes met hers, crystal blue and uncertain. “You’ll just feel a little pinch”

This is when you pulled your gaze back and instead focused on the cream colored walls. There was no problem with needles, you’d dutifully sit for your flu shots, but something about the sharp edge pushing through a layer of skin and fat before hitting your vein made you nauseous.

“We just need enough to run a few tests.” Julia soothed.

She was a normal nurse in that one, small way. Your mind was itching, blood seeming to congeal. It refused to cooperate and her burning touch was all but dominant against your skin. You both waited for the small tube to fill with black liquid. 

Finally, you felt her press the gauze against the crook of your arm and withdraw the needle. Another small pinch and then a massive relief. Her smell hung around you and filled the room. There was an undeniable urge to sink your teeth into her. To taste her.

You’d stopped the elevator just hours before to assess your penchant for brain consumption, but this wasn’t that. This was an intoxicating pull. This was animalistic, the same rush of emotion that had flooded you without prompting during your earlier conversation.

Julia squeezed your shoulder calmly, not entirely over her own reservations, but on the penance that she was a nurse and this was her job. You kept yourself rooted to the bed, fingers digging into the wood. She left the room and you could hear the compressed lock reseal you inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

That sweet odor lingered, and your reaction to it scared you more than anything. The wood beneath your fingertips splintered, and suddenly that anger, that fear, rolled away to shock. That wasn’t… normal. None of this was normal, but you weren’t exactly picked first in sports either.

You were a middle kid, a I guess I wouldn’t mind having you on my team kid. Suddenly your fingers were cutting through wood like it was butter. You let out an indignant squeak and shifted the blanket until the slashes were covered.

“Is everything alright?”

Wanda, you had learned that her name was Wanda, occupied her usual spot in front of the window. A slick sweat covered your forehead. She was holding a small tray that had a steaming bowl of soup and a delicious hunk of French bread.

“I figured you were hungry,” She lifted her chin towards the panel next to your door. “May I?”

“I’m at your mercy.”

And you were, truly. You hadn’t seen anyone but her since you’d woken up. There were shadows of others, people that made the pit in the center of your stomach grow three sizes. You knew exactly what they were doing, you watched enough true crime with Jennifer to know.

Here was this beautiful and powerful woman offering you food and words of comfort, and you allowed yourself to fall for all of it. Listlessly. Because what did you have to lose? You’d already died, and the thought of putting your family through the heartache of resurrection and then possibly enough committal to the ground was too much.

So, let her Stockholm syndrome you. The food smelled divine.

Wanda didn’t hold the same fear that Julia had. In fact, once the compression of air signified that it was okay for her to enter, she did so without hesitation. She set the food down on the equally dull side table and lowered herself onto the corner of the bed, making herself at home.

She’d changed into a pair of jeans, a simple t-shirt that had the outline of SHIELD on its sleeve. You frowned, for a company that does everything in its power to keep itself hidden, they sure loved that stupid bird so much.

“Go on, sweetie. You can eat.”

Wanda had a command about her that made you fold and listen despite any reservations. You took up a spot on the far end of the bed and shoveled the first spoonful into your mouth. An explosion of heady flavors coated your tongue, coaxing a low moan from your lips.

Blush rushed to your cheeks at the spark in the set of stormy eyes that watched you like a hawk. You rushed to break the tension. “So, what’s the plan here? Run a bunch of tests and keep me locked up?”

“Somewhat.” She paused, carefully thinking of her next words. “Y/n, I have the ability to get inside the psyche. Not only can I read every thought, every action, but I can control them too. It’s not something I like to do, nor something I want to. Not without permission.”

You frowned again. You certainly hadn’t given her permission to enter your mind before, and she tensed at the realization. But, you took another bite of soup and swallowed down the spiced broth. What’s done was done. You didn’t expect her to ask, much less admit to her wrongdoing.

“I prefer to ask. Can you tell me what you do for work?”

“Paralegal, the bar seemed like too much stress. But I’m good at my job. I was good at my job before a car turned me into sidewalk art.”

“Right, and your family, what about them?”

There was no desire to think of them and their perfect lives that you’d shattered with your death. Your mother used to sit in the tepid air on the porch swing, downing a glass of wine before she turned to you with tears in her eyes. She’d urge you to be careful working in the city. She’d plead for you to come home. More than anything, she’d utter the phrase a mother should never outlive her daughter.

“My mother is a seventh grade biology teacher and my father runs a painting business that’s been operating my whole life. They’re not very exciting people. They must be worried sick about me.”

Wanda nodded, “Any siblings?”

“Not anymore.”

She stilled at your words and didn’t pry. You were well aware of the fact that she could push through your deflections and learn the information that she wanted to know. But, you respected that she didn’t. Instead, she stared at you, and you stared right back, suddenly not hungry.

Wanda was someone that you felt the need to open-up to. Unlike the brief encounter you had had with her wife. Not that you let that word stick with you, not in the same way that her touch did. Again, you had to push the thoughts to the back of your mind, even if Wanda wasn’t prying.

Instead, she placed a warm hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers through your body. You suppressed a whimper at the sudden contact.

“I had a brother named Pietro. He was fast, unnaturally so. Neither of us ever wanted to be heroes, we didn’t think about the future like that. So, when the Avengers, these so-called saviors of the world, recruited us, we knew about the dangers. But it still shocked me when he died. He was my brother. He wasn’t supposed to be fragile like that.”

You stared at her with an amount of tenderness in your eyes that she wasn’t used to from the others. They cared, sure, but in the way that a co-worker would care enough to purchase cut flowers and a ‘sorry for your loss’ card. You were different.

“They’re our protectors.” You swallowed hard, mouth dry “when something drastic happens, it doesn’t seem real.”

“It still doesn’t.”

There was a lapse of silence that pushed memories in your direction. The burning cold weather on the day your own brother had died. You remember the scream that died in your throat and the way you’d knelt in the cracked snow until you couldn’t’ feel your legs or your fingers. It took an EMT with a heated blanket and a horror story about hypothermia to pull you to your feet.

“Jonathan.” You whispered.

She let out a questioning hum, pulling her feet from the floor and making herself more comfortable on the less-than-comfortable bed. “Your brother?”

“My older brother. I followed him around like a lost puppy, but he never complained. He was a hockey player and a damn good one too. He’d use the lake behind our house in Jersey to practice and one winter the ice broke underneath him. He drowned, and I was too weak to save him.”

Wanda let out a shuddered breath. You couldn’t read her facial expression. It was a mix of confusion, or sadness, but not pity and that was something you appreciated. You’d had enough pity, just as your family had enough grief without you adding to it.

She opened her mouth to reply, but both of you were startled when three quick knocks shattered the silence. The Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, stood on the other side. She showed no interest in breeching the containment unit. Instead, she leveled her wife with a dark stare and held up a folded piece of paper.

“Excuse me,” Wanda whispered, giving your leg a settling squeeze.

She left the plate and exited the holding cell. Her words were muffled, but those unripe green eyes that Natasha possessed kept flicking to you nervously. She too, didn’t’ show pity. It was interest and if you were being honest, you thought you saw the smallest spark of fear.

Wanda took the paper from her wife, squinted at something you couldn’t’ see. You felt like you were at a parent teacher conference, just out of bounds of hearing but you could see their body language; the way that Natasha itched to move closer to Wanda, the fingers that the taller woman pressed to her lips, thumb creasing the paper.

Finally, Wanda turned back towards the glass. Natasha met your stare without issue, hitting the intercom on the other side of the cell. It was her who spoke, her raspy voice falling from the speaker.

“In the spirit of transparency, we want to be honest with you about your blood results.”

You stood from the bed, moving to one side of the barrier. They were intimidating like that, standing shoulder to shoulder with a natural beauty. It made you want to shrink. If not for the paper in their hands you would have curled into yourself at the sight.

“Don’t tell me I’m dying.”

“No, honey.” Wanda shook her head, “Quite the opposite, you’re getting stronger.”

“I don’t understand.”

Natasha lifted an eyebrow and pressed the paper against the glass so you could read it. None of it made sense, it was lines of DNA that looked like musical notes. You shook your head, giving her a confused look.

Natasha scoffed, peeling the paper from the surface of glass. Wanda bit her thumbnail nervously. “According to these…You’re Asgardian, Kitten.”

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[asumi2020202]

Burn them all

Other name:Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor.

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader

Summary: Never once have you been to the place you were you belong. Always thinking you were an outcast. But one day you were invited. Feelings developed. Friendship made. When the war came, and they harmed one you hold dear, they realised that the same blood runs in both the father and the daughter. The act done by her, made even the gods pray for the people.

Au: Viserys I had a son before Rhaenyra. But due to him being unstable and bloodthirsty, Viserys exiled him. This son of his was Aerys II or 'The Mad King' as some may say. Due to him being exiled, his wife also left. Y/n Targaryen was born when Rhaenyra had given birth to Jacaerys. She was younger than her brothers, Viserys II, who had died while fighting some rogues and Rhaegal, who was murdered. She had an older sister but she was killed in front of her so she killed first when she was the age of seven. Y/n travelled the world, saving the slaves she found with her three dragons who were given to her by her father. She gave freedom to the slaves and poor. The world got to know her as The Khaleesi of the Great Grass sea, The Unburnt, The Mother of Dragons, The Breaker of chains.....and the Daughter of Death.

A/n: Hello! This story is based on an Au. I request you to read the Au before diving into the story or else it may not make sense. The timeline is mixed with Daenerys' because you take her place in this story. The reference picture took sometime to draw, you don't need to think of it permanently because it is only a reference.

About reader: She is younger than Aegon, Aemond and Helaena. She is loved by both sides. She has heterochromia (I love people with heterochromia). She wears an eye patch like Aemond.

Before reading:

Timeline: During Lucerys' trial to the Dance Of the Dragons.

The reader has 3 dragons. Namely- Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal.

Rhaenyra only betrothed Lucerys to Baela.

Tilted notes are translations of high valyrian.

Blood and cheese are not involved.

WARNING: mentions of rape, violence, blood.

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"Khaleesi, a raven has arrived from Kings Landing....."

"Ah, it seems he finally found me. Jorah, get everything ready, we will leave for Kinds Landing at dawn."

"At once my lady.."

_________________________________________

Music recommended: Dragonstone

Lord Vaemond stood before the king, Viserys, who looked like he was waiting for someone . After some minutes, when no one came, he spoke " Let the Petition start".

Just as Lord Vaemond was about to speak, the doors opened.

"Y/n Stormborn of House Targaryen, First of her name, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Queen of the Mereen, The Unburnt, The Breaker of Chains... And the Mother of Dragons." Missandei spoke.

All eyes turned at the door as there stood Y/n Targaryen holding onto the hand of her best friend Missandei.

"Ah my grandchild, you recieved my letter. I always wished to see you in person, I only ever heard of you through the gossips of others saying a Targaryen girl conquered nations and freed slaves.

I longed to see you myself" Viserys said to whom y/n replied.

"I longed to see you as well your grace, I only ever heard of you through the lips of my brothers and sister. Even if I wished to meet you, i couldn't, as my family was exiled."

"I exiled your father and no one else. Your mother loved your father so heartily that she left with him. She was devoted to your father. But past shall be left behind my child, for you are now home."

"I understand your grace. Thank you for accepting me here and allowing me to be present in this trial." All eyes left y/n and focused on the upcoming trial.

With that King Viserys started hearing the petitions. Lord Vaemond had insulted Rhaenyra and her children in the heat of the moment.

"I think my lord it would be wise to honor the words of your brother and Princess Rhaenys as her granddaughter is to be married to Prince Lucerys Velaryon." Y/n Spoke, keeping her calm.

"And would do you think you are to advice me. She- "

"Say it" whispered Daemon.

"Her children are BASTARDS!. She is a whore and you are a bitch who can't mind their business, who know, you might turn out like your father." Vaemond screamed.

"Please I ask your not to judge a daughter by the sins of her father" said y/n.

"I.... Will have your tongue for that." As Viserys took out his dagger, Daemon easily cut Vaemond's head in and angle that the tongue hanged freely.

"He can keep his tongue" said Daemon. "Disarm him" spoke the guards.

"No need" said Daemon.

When Daemon slashed Vaemond's head, Helaena sought comfort in Alicent's body, while the brothers remained unfazed.

_________________________________________

As the trial came to an end, Helaena shyly started a conversation with y/n wanting to know about her while Rhaenyra, Lucerys and Jacaerys approached y/n.

"Indeed. None who stay with me or serve me are slaves, rather they are free have their own will and knowledge which I value." Y/n talked with Helaena finding comfort in her.

"Y/n." Spoke Rhaenyra. "Yes your grace?"

"Please do not call me your grace, you are my own flesh and blood. Just call me your aunt." " Very well then aunt Rhaenyra "

"Would mind sharing the stories of your journeys with us niece?" Said Helaena.

"Sure, but I must see my children first, come, I shall show them to you"

As the four followed y/n, Jacaerys felt uneasy at the thought of her having offsprings that are not with him as he felt infatuated with her the moment he saw her.

Near the dragon pit, they saw three dragons unable to be tamed.

"Umbās" wait. Said y/n to the men.

"Do not bring them to the dragon pit and chain them, they are but free beings like humans, let them soar in the sky with their wings."

"Yes your grace" said the men before leaving.

"Meet my children, Rhaegal" referring to the green dragon. "Viserion" the goldish brown dragon. "And Drogon". The black dragon with red highlights.

"You have three dragons?" Asked Jacaerys, relieved that the children y/n referred to are not humans.

"Yes, according to my brothers, my father gave the three dragons eggs that his dragon laid to me as I was his only daughter and the youngest. "

"Your brothers?" Asked Rhaenyra. "Yes, Viserys and Rhaegar, I named my children from them."

"Where are they now?"- Helaena.

"Dead"...... "I'm sorry for your loss" Each one replied.

"It's alright, it is in the past. I have learned to cope with it. Leaving that aside, I'm new here so I don't know the place, I need someone to show me around."

"Ah, Jace would be more than happy to show you around my niece." - Rhaenyra.

Jacaerys nodded. Grateful that his my knew his affection for the new girl.

As Jace led y/n away, Rhaenyra started a conversation with missandei.

"How did a slave girl come to advice y/n Targaryen?"- Rhaenyra asked. To which she replied "She bought me from my master and set me free."

"Free? And what if you wish to go to Naath tomorrow?"

"Then she will give me a ship and some resources to sail away."

"You truly believe that?"

"Yes. I believe in her. All of us who came with her from Essos, we believe in her. She's not out Queen because she's the daughter of some king we never knew. She's the queen we chose."

_________________________________________

King Viserys threw a feast for both his grandchild returning home and lucerys' betrothal.

"I would like to announce a thought I have come upon." Viserys spoke as all eyes went to him.

"I would like to bethroth my grandson Prince Jacaerys to my granddaughter Princess Y/n. She has been away for too long and it seems right that jace gets bethroth as his younger brother has already been."

"I agree father"- Rhaenyra said. Alicent nodded her head and smiled at Rhaenyra.

Jacaerys felt happy as Lucerys teasing poked him.

"Well you'll finally get to lay down with a woman. You do know how the act is done right?" Aegon whispered to Jace.

"Y/n?" Questioned Viserys. "Do you agree to this announcement of mine?"

"If it pleases you Grandfather then yes I agree" y/n replied as she smiled ate Viserys.

The night, for once after ages, was happy and without violence. Helaena and y/n danced together. Rhaenyra and Alicent laughed together. Viserys felt warm at the sight.

That was until Aegon usurped the throne upon king Viserys' death.

_________________________________________

The day Aegon usurped the throne, the family had been divided. Alicent knew that war was inevitable.

The blacks resided in Dragonstone along with y/n and her dragons. Both parties desperately wanted to gain more houses on their side.

Helaena joined the blacks much to the surprise of both sides. All she said was that " I do not wish to partake in this war, I joined the queen to ensure the safety of my children. I have no wish to rule."

Rhaenyra sent Jacaerys to the north as a messenger. He was to inform Lord Cregan Stark of the upcoming war and get their assistance.

Before going, Jace promised y/n that he will return safely, kissing her goodbye.

While Lucerys was sent to Storm's end to earn the favor of Lord Borros Baratheon.

_________________________________________

After both the brothers left, a day or two after Rhaenyra had gone to labor. Unfortunately visenya, Rhaenyra's child, was a stillborn with dragon scales.

As she burned on the pyre, Rhaenyra leaned on to y/n instead of her husband Daemon. That ver evening came the news that Lucerys Velaryon was killed by Aemond Targaryen and his dragon Vhagar.

The shock was too much to handle for Rhaenyra. Y/n knew what this meant. No one could survive the rage of a mother. Y/n wrote a letter to Jace, informing him of the situation.

_________________________________________

Y/n stood near the beach of Dragonstone, watching as vermax and her betrothed returned.

As Jace landed, she gave him a look of sorrow. She hugged him as he wrapped his hands around her tightly, finding comfort in her.

After sometime, she led him to Rhaenyra. She stood as she saw both the mother and the son break down in each other's arms. Rhaenyra extended and arm, asking for y/n to join, which she took without a second thought.

_________________________________________

Y/n was in the council when she noticed that her missandei was not there. The commander of the Unsullied entered the room. Giving his respects to the queen, he turned to y/n and spoke something to her.

What he had said had shocked her. It was visible on her face. Her breathing became uneven. She placed her hand on her forehead. Jace coming to her side in an instant and held her.

"What is the matter?" Jace asked.

The commander replied "Aegon kyvāna naejot execute se khalēsi ráqiros mishanje hemtūbis. Ziry vestretan bona lo ziry wishes naejot rhãenagon zyhon mēre mōrī jēda, ziry līs sagon ry dārys tegorīr ry dawn hemtūbis.

Aegon plans to execute the khaleesi's friend Missandei tomorrow. He said that if she wishes to meet her one last time, she must be at kings landing at dawn tomorrow.

This must be because of Aemond's death. y/n thought.

"I must leave at once, prepare Drogon." Y/n commanded as the commander nodded and left.

"You can't leave alone." Argued Baela.

"But I can't abandon her!"

"Let Jace go with you, if an ambush does occur, both of you will take your dragons and leave at once." Rhaenyra said, knowing full well how much it can hurt to lose someone you love.

Y/n nodded and sprinted out. She and Jacaerys approached their dragons and flew to kings landing once they had climbed on them.

_________________________________________

Y/n stood their on the ground, holding onto Jacaerys' hand as she saw Aegon, Otto, Missandei and a guard standing on a tower. Upon seeing her, Aegon had smirked at her

He asked missandei "any last words? Because now is the time."

Missandei looked away from Aegon and to y/n. After a second the guard took out his sword and angled it.

Y/n could feel her tears trickling down her face. Missandei looked at her and Said "Dracarys!". And she was beheaded.

Y/n spared Aegon one last look of hatred as she left kings landing with Jace.

_________________________________________

Upon her arrival, all could see her sorrow and anger. They knew even if there had been a chance before, there is no chance now to avoid war.

" prepare the soldiers, we will attack at once" y/n commanded to her commanders of both the dothraki and Unsullied.

She turned to Rhaenyra and said "be prepared to take back that throne, it will not be so easy with both daemon and Rhaenys along with their dragons gone."

"We will attack tomorrow which will take them by surprise as some of your army is in kings landing itself, you only need to inform them of the plan."

"Hm.. I will send a raven"

_________________________________________

As all left the room, only Jace remained with y/n. As Jace walked upto her, she broke down causing Jace to run upto her to catch her.

"She died alone, she died for me and I couldn't protect her" y/n cried in Jacaerys' chest as he held the head to his chest, shushing her and telling her everything will be okay once the war has ended.

_________________________________________

Rhaenyra, Jacaerys,Y/n, Rhaena, Baela, Cregan Stark were all dressed up for battle.

They were reaching the beach where the armies: Dothraki, Unsullied, Northerners and the rest were assembled.

As they approached , they saw a dragon falling from the sky. It had an arrow piercing it heart and neck.

Upon realisation, y/n ran to the dragon. Wailing out "no.. no no no!.... Not him as well."

Baela and Rhaena held a hand on their mouth in shock. Jacaerys could feel your sorrow as Rhaenyra held her head down. Even though Cregan Stark didn't know her well, he felt a sense of guilt upon seeing her crying face.

"He had no fault. Why did he had to die? Why my little child? Why my Viserion?" Y/n cried as she held the head of her 3rd dragon.

As if on que Rhaegal and Drogon landed as the dragon watchers brought the dragons of others with them. Drogon and Rhaegal sensed your sorrow. They laid their heads and bodies on either side of you, softly whimpering.

"I am his child aren't i?........ I am the Mad King's Daughter. The same blood flows through both of our veins."

"Y/n..." Jace softly whispered.

"Nyke jāhor keligon syt daōrun ēva nyke avenge ziry" Declared y/n.

I will not stop until I avenge them.

A sentence every human on that lives, fears.

She gently let go of the head of Viserion. She stepped in front of her soldiers. Rhaena and Baela had left on their dragons for their part of the plan.

"Jāhor ao ossēnagon issa enemies isse poja āegenka ármor?" Spoke y/n.

Will you kill my enemies in their iron Armor?

The dothraki roared as the Unsullied stomped their spears on the ground.

"Jāhor qūvy ilagon poja dōron lenton?"

Will tear down their stone houses?

They did the same movement again.

"Jāhor ao sagon rēisīr issa?"

Will You be with me?

Again the same.

"Sīr?!! Se forever??!"

This time the sound was extremely loud.

Y/n spoke those words while her tears ran freely.

Jacaerys and Cregan had left, leaving behind only Rhaenyra and y/n.

The commander of the Unsullied came to her "Khaleesi what are we to do? We await your orders." Y/n looked at her family with a look that looked as if she is dead, her eyes hollow and had rage in them.

She looked away from them and to her commander and said " burn". The commander was puzzled.

"Khaleesi?"

"Burn them all..... Burn each and everyone that rebels."

She turned to the Unsullied and declared her orders-

"Dovaogédys!"

Unsullied

"Aeksia ossēnātās!"

Slay the masters

"Menti ossēnātās!"

Slay the soldiers

"Qiloni pilos lue vale tolvie ossēnātās!"

Slay every man who holds a whip.

The soldiers marched forward , the ships sailed, their arrows prepared.

"Y/n.. you have stained your hands with blood by giving those orders." Rhaenyra gently spoke.

"My hands have been stained long ago, back when I was only seven. I don't fear anything anymore. Do know how I stained my hands ?"

_________________________________________

Flashback:

"No no no! Let her go!! Take anything you want but let her go!!" A seven year old girl screamed.

"I wonder how a stark and a Targaryen is living together?" A man asked.

"Eh, we don' care bout' that do we now mate? We've got double luck" A second mam replied.

"Letz use this one first shall we?" The first man smirked and said.

A seven year old y/n saw her stark sister whom had saved her get raped in front of her.

She scream for them to let her go desperately trying to cut the rope tying her hands together with her hidden dagger.

Both men were focused on their pleasure. The stark girl was screaming in pain when y/n finally broke free.

She took her dagger and shoved it into the 2nd man's neck causing him to hold his neck as he bled out.

The first man kicked her in the stomach as he tried to hold her. Y/n had kicked him in the crotch, he screamed in pain. As y/n got a hold of her dagger, she stabbed the man repeatedly. Her face and body covered in the blood those men. Her golden and violet eyes shone from the fire that burned in the fire place.

When she calmed down, she hurried to the stark whom she thought of as her sister. She felt the warmth of her sister slip away from her grasp as she cried and screamed whilst being covered in blood.

_________________________________________

Rhaenyra felt tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She felt sympathy for the little girl of seven who had to suffer so much pain.

"I never knew my parents, I only ever heard the rumors and stories from my brothers before they were murdered.

People say that my father killed many with wild fire before he died. I will show them what a raged Targaryen looks like."

With that y/n flew away to the battlefield with Drogon and Rhaegal.

_________________________________________

Jace felt as if he was getting suffocated . Too many men were sticking together and was getting squashed.

Suddenly roars were heard in the sky. There she was. Y/n Targaryen. With her two dragons.

"Dracarys!"

Half the men were burned to death. The dragon continued to burn the enemy soldiers.

Sunfyre had confronted Drogon. As the dragons rebelled against each other, y/n jumped from Drogon and landed on sunfyre, piercing her sword through Aegon's chest as he fell from the saddle.

She landed on the ground as Drogon took off to burn more soldiers, y/n approached Aegon who was cowering.

"Who are you exactly?!" He asked.

"The daughter of ......Death.." with that she beheaded him. As she continued slaying, she didn't even stop, going on a rampage.

_________________________________________

When the war came to an end, Jacaerys searched for his lover like a mad man. He may have been tired but he searched refusing to give up.

When he found her, he stilled. Her eye patch was gone. Behind her was Drogon and Rhaegal whose were beside her. In her arms was the head of Aegon the Usurper.

Her eyes to the full display for the world. Her golden eye shoned in the sun for the first time in forever. Her body was covered with blood, it dripped from her head. Tears were streaming down her face.

( The reference picture took a some time to draw)

Reference picture:

Jacaerys caught y/n before she fell. Her head on his chest as her vision faded.

_________________________________________

Y/n and Jacaerys had cut their hands and held them together. Cut their lips and drank from the same cup. The septa reciting the vows that they were to take. As the vows end, the two of kissed passionately infront of all.

Their wedding had been the old valyrian way. Lord Cregan gave both of them two dire wolves, one pitch black and one as white as the stars above.

Many were lost, but they must get past the memories for themselves and the future generations.

_________________________________________

10 months later from their consummation day. Y/n laid in their chambers. Panting and sweating. She tried her best to get the babe out of her.

Each moment that passes, Jacaerys felt the urge to barge in the room. One scream of agony threw him off as he opened the door and went beside his wife, supporting her from the back.

"I can't do it Jace. It's too difficult." She pleaded.

"Yes you can avy jorrāelan. I am here with you." Jacaerys replied.

My love.

"My lady you must push!" Said the midwives and maester. Y/n grunted and muffled scream escaped her as pushed with all her might.

A cry could be heard. "A boy my prince" said the maester.

A second of relieve washed over y/n before she was in pain again. "It's seems the princess is having twins, quick hurry!" Spoke a midwife.

After 5 hours of struggle, there laid two boys on each of the arms of the parents.

"My prince I must take the children to the wetnurse for their feeding" spoke a maid. "They will feed from their mother, me and my wife have decided it." Replied Jacaerys.

Y/n smiled at his words as the maid adjust her robes so both her son's could feed from her at the same time. As the maid left the room, Jacaerys placed his hand on his son who was attached to your right breast.

"What names do wish for avy jorrāelan?" Spoke y/n.

My love.

"How about you name the left one and I name the right? We both shall have our turn." Replied Jace.

Very well then what name do you suggest?- y/n.

"Daenys, to honor Daemon The Rogue Prince and Rhaenys The queen who never was." Jace spoke.

"Ah my beautiful Daenys." - y/n.

"What about you my love?" - Jacaerys.

"Rhaecerys, to honor my brother Rhaegal and your brother Lucerys." Spoke y/n .

Jace could feel tears build up. Suddenly Rhaenyra burst in with the others.

"Where are my grand babies?"- Rhaenyra.

"Here mother." Jace handed Rhaenyra the children before fixing his wife's gown because she was to tired as he referred.

"What are their names?" - Rhaenyra.

"Daenys and Rhaecerys" spoke y/n.

As Rhaenyra left , Jace put the babies in their cribs which was situated in their room upon the lady's request. He kissed her passionately, thanking her for the everything she gave him.

........She burned her enemies for her child and best friend. She burned them all. And would not hesitate to burn them again if they dare try to harm her family....

......After all.

...............Zaldrīzes buzdari iksos daor....

A dragon is not a slave.

-Lillian

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

Of All Things, I Became an Oceanid

You always imagined that if you woke up in the world of Genshin, the possibilities of being a Visionless wielder of elements and a slew of romantic shenanigans would lie in your wake. But when you instead find yourself in the body of an Oceanid with romance likely out of the question, your only conclusion is that the gods of reincarnation isekai hate your guts.

cw. you're an oceanid

pairing. navia x reader, kaeya x reader, childe x reader (separate)

notes. don't feel like being an oceanid today? well go ahead and go to the series masterlist and see what your life could be if you were something else in genshin.

So you're an Oceanid now.

You suppose there are worse things you could have turned into. God, imagine if you turned into a hilichurl or something like that. Yeah, you'll take being a graceful water being over a hilichurl any day.

You can talk, you can wield Hydro and you can go literally anywhere you want as long as water is present. It's honestly not that bad of a deal, you can be Mx. Worldwide if you so desire it.

As for finding company with your fellow lochfolk? That's not really much an option, all things considered. As it stands now, Oceanids follow one simple rule.

You stay in your lake, they stay in theirs and you call it a day.

Kaeya

Considering Springvale's small pond is already taken, you decide to call dibs on Starfell Lake since after Rhodeia made even the waters of the Dawn Winery bitter, you figured it would be better to try a source lake not connected to her spot in Liyue

To be honest when it came to being an Oceanid, you figured you didn't really need to become the companion of any of the characters

You're more than content to stay in your lake and mind your business. But truthfully, it does get boring, so when you saw Kaeya's reflection peering into your waters, you popped your head up to say hi almost instinctively

Apart from a brief look of surprise, that's the extent of your attempt to seem regal and mysterious in front of the Calvary Captain

"A water faerie so far from Fontaine? I can't believe my eye; this is the certainly the last thing I was expecting to see while out on a stroll."

It's not everyday you meet something so exciting and considering what happened after encountering the Traveler and Paimon, Kaeya decides to listen to his instincts that there'll be a lot to come from interacting with you

Because of this, Kaeya is a frequent visitor to your lake besides the people who occasionally stop by to clean the statue of the Seven

You ask him about the daily gossip of Mondstadt and he asks you about the life of being a water faerie, a fair trade even if most of your information is based on your memory of the Genshin wiki page and the limited personal experience you have

Kaeya's made a joke about how your meeting is something one might read in a romance novel, much to your embarrassment

Is he serious or no?

It's not like there haven't been any Human/Oceanid relationships in this game so it isn't completely out of the ordinary when you think about it...

At the same time though, you don't want to look super eager

One particular night, a long silence fell over you both when you asked him about his family. He tells you a bit about his past, about being adopted into the Ragnvindr family and his present less than savory relationship with Diluc

You ask if he's lonely to which he asks in return "do I seem lonely?" yet there is no bite in his tone nor is there any sarcasm either. his gaze is thoughtful but miles away from your lake

"Yes" are the words on your non-existent tongue yet you can't bring yourself to say it, all while a warm hand brushes against your watery cheek much too quickly

Navia

Being an Oceanid in Fontaine pre-Neuvillette's judgement was pretty much impossible, thankfully you airdropped into Teyvat after that deciding to call an area near Poisson your home

As to how you met Navia, you heard her crying by the sea as she does sometimes after getting new flowers for the grave of her father and much like the Spring Faerie of Springvale, you answered the call and swam to the surface

She thought maybe you were Melus or Silver, or maybe some other lost soul of Poisson. You quickly let her know that wasn't actually the case, much to Navia's initial disappointment

But Navia is an optimist, first and foremost. So she won't let the reality of the situation get her down and would ask you a bunch of questions. Afterall, Oceanids are thought to be practically extinct in Fontaine after Egeria's death so she doesn't want to waste the opportunity to learn more about you

And boy do her questions range from genuinely thought provoking to so silly it leaves you both in a fit of laughter

It's a first meeting that does Navia good, there she was so sad and then you came and turned the entire situation inside out. She promises to make you macarons as thanks, if lochfolk can even eat

Truthfully, you don't know if you can either. It's not like it's necessary to eat as you are now but fuck it you want to find out for yourself

Navia is also quick to invite you live in the waters of Poisson in general, or at least settle in if you ever want to visit and see the town for yourself

You take her up on the offer to have, if anything, a change of scenery and to see more people out and about than you normally would

You truthfully enjoy a nice yap session with Navia, it's never boring when she's around even if the most you're doing is watching her dish out orders from your comfortable pond in Poisson

But the best hangout sessions you have are when you are a good distance from the place and she can chat with you freely. She'll bring a basket of snacks, a blanket to sit on and you'll chat the day away

Sometimes she'll even bring a sketchbook and attempt to draw your portrait. Navia isn't the best artist but you enjoy looking at her artwork nonetheless

A small secret of her heart though is that Navia is quite sure that as a young girl she dreamed of something like this. Meeting an Oceanid by lakeside and falling in love before willingly being taken into the depths of Fontaine to eternally perform a watery dance of love

Maybe she can't do some of those things as the boss of Spina di Rosula, but maybe the former... maybe she's just been reading too many romance novels

Childe

When it comes to Childe, you truly lucked out in becoming an Oceanid when you lost the isekai 50/50. Because if you were something couldn't talk like a Thunder Manifestation or a Geovishap... you'd be assed out

For he, Tartaglia, is constantly finding ways to become stronger and that includes fighting mythical beings he comes across

But hey, Childe is no barbarian. Anything that can talk and beg for its life, for the most part, isn't a viable option for honing his skills

So congratulations, you narrowly avoided becoming a hashtag in someone's twitter bio twice in a row

Childe quickly laughs off your near brush with death and he dodges the spout of water you send his way. Sadly, he's somewhat charming when he says "come on, in my defense I didn't think you had any real intelligence! Now that I know we can easily become buddies, I'm sure!"

Maybe it's guilt (you doubt it), maybe it's a bit of youthful wonder permeating his soul (you're sure it's this), but he makes it a point to visit you while he is in Fontaine

Yeah, you lost another 50/50 by being airdropped into Fontaine during its Archon Quest but miraculously the water isn't painful. Maybe it's because you're technically not from this world and it grants you some sort of immunity? You're not sure

You are sure of, however, the fact that Childe comes to visit you like he gets paid for it

Apparently he wants to chat it up with you so he has plenty of interesting stories for his younger siblings when he visits them next time he is in his homeland

You sadly have a soft spot for it seems for war criminals that also happen to be family-oriented so you indulge him begrudgingly despite the rocky start to your friendship

When he gets arrested, you don't see him for a while and you admittedly grow worried when he doesn't show up even beyond the crisis of the prophecy coming to fruition but isn't like you can just discreetly find a fatuus in a city, let alone a Harbinger

Childe comes to see you soon enough though when he's recovered a substantial amount (barely any at all)

He laughs at you worriedly berate him for being so careless. "I just had to make sure my favorite Oceanid didn't miss me too much, that's all"

[shy-sapphic-ace]

List of queer books I read, loved & recommend!

(There isn't any particular order, I wrote these as I remembered them)

Master Of One - Jaida Jones & Dani Bennett (mlm, fantasy, very cool worldbuilding and magic system, funny, cool characters)

Legends & Lattes - Travis Baldree (wlw, fantasy, very soft & chill vibes)

The Priory of the Orange Tree - Samantha Shannon (wlw, high fantasy, cool worldbuilding, kinda reminds me of LOTR but with more dragons and feminism and lesbians)

Even Though I Knew The End - C.L. Polk (wlw, supernatural noir, cool 1930s detective story with angels & demons, I loved this one!)

The Love Interest - Cale Dietrich (mlm, science fiction, very cool concept)

The Darkest Part Of The Forest - Holly Black (side mlm, fantasy, cool fae lore)

The Weight Of The Stars - K. Ancrum (wlw, not quite science fiction but space stuff is involved, lovely and complex characters)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz (mlm, fiction, very nice in general, there is also a sequel)

The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue - Mackenzi Lee (mlm, historical and vaguely fantasy, nice story but I preferred the sequel honestly)

The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy - Mackenzi Lee (wlw, the sequel to the one before, more fantasy elements than the first, asexual main character!!)

Gallant - V.E. Schwab (no romance, but in the background one of the characters(?) uses they/them pronouns, very cool dark fantasy vibe)

Stranger Than Fanfiction - Chris Colfer (gay main character, trans main character, coming-of-age, nice book)

Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda (yes it's the Love, Simon book, mlm, fiction, pretty nice)

They Both Die At The End - Adam Silvera (mlm, sci-fi ish but mostly fiction, cool ideas, but the ending is sad! Very amazing book though, I haven't read the prequel yet)

The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo - Taylor Jenkins Reid (wlw, bi main character, historical fiction, cool story, just a neat book in general)

This Is How You Lose The Time War - Amal El-Mohtar & Max Gladstone (wlw, sci-fi, very cool time travel stuff!! and very beautiful, it felt like reading poetry most of the time)

One Last Stop - Casey McQuinston (wlw, background trans & pan & queer characters, sci-fi or fantasy idk, but time travel, I loooved this book, great)

The House In The Cerulean Sea - TJ Klune (mlm, fantasy, THIS BOOK oh my gosh you should read it!!, just cute and lovely and good)

Under The Whispering Door - TJ Klune (mlm, fantasy, this book is also sooo amazing, great character development and awesome relationships and stuff, it's been a while since I read it but it was so good)

And They Lived... - Steven Salvatore (nblm, fiction, about gender identity and learning to love yourself, read it a while ago but it was very nice)

I Wish You All The Best - Mason Deaver (nblm, fiction, about finding your identity and people who care about you, very cute and sweet)

The Song Of Achilles - Madeleine Miller (mlm, historical, very good in general)

Carry On - Rainbow Rowell (mlm, background wlw in the third book, fantasy, it's a trilogy, basically Harry Potter if it was gay and also better)

Silver In The Wood - Emily Tesh (mlm, fantasy, very pretty, lots of fae stuff and lovely descriptions, it has a really good sequel too)

Pretty much anything by Alice Oseman (all cute and lovely and great, though I've only read Radio Silence so far I hear only good things, Solitaire is on my to-read list)

I Kissed Shara Wheeler - Casey McQuinston (wlw, fiction, it's been a while but I liked this book)

The Falling In Love Montage - Ciara Smyth (wlw, fiction, this book was so cute and funny and deeply emotional it made me Feel way too many things, I'd definitely recommend it)

What Big Teeth - Rose Szabo (a bit of queerness all around, fantasy, werewolves and monsters, this one was pretty cool!, lots of original ideas for the world/character building)

His Quiet Agent - Ada Maria Soto (mlm, asexual, fiction, about like spies but this book was so gentle and sweet I wanted to cry in the best way possible)

Some By Virtue Fall - Alexandra Rowland (wlw, historical fiction(?), theatre drama!! rival romance!! duels!!, a very good read in general)