#but it didn't really fit the angle i was going for

[carmenized-onions]

Pretty. | Bolting Down Booths

logline; locking down chairs and a sweaty sleep deprived man (for now) (for the night) (platonically) (for now) (what?) (I didn't say anything).

series history, this is the third; First, Second

portion; 4.5k+

possible allergies; Negative self-talk (baby, Tony's mentally ill, get WITH it). We are once again, eatin' meat (beef!). Did I give the reader a curly girl routine? ....Perhaps...

pairing; Carmen 'Carmy' Berzatto & Fem Reader (No pronouns, but 'girl' is thrown around quite a bit.)

is this entire series just a love letter to me wanting to take care of this guy? maybe so. maybe so.

Lifesaver. Lifesaver. Lifesaver.

Alright, fuck, you need to put on something to listen to because the thought isn’t leaving and the cherry lifesaver swirling in your mouth is so ironic that it’s leaving a bitter taste.

It’s after hours at The Bear, just after midnight, and you’ve returned to a clinically cleaned restaurant, ‘Ah… Syd keeps it locked in.’ and you’re thankful that you’re alone because it means everyone’s getting their proper rest. However, it also means your intrusive thoughts are really drilling in tonight.

You drop your phone on one of the booth tables, blasting music at full volume. That’s better. Little more static to work with now. You measure each booth and table for the third time tonight, rechecking that the angles are exactly as Syd had asked. They’re still perfect. Alright, get a move on, it’s not gonna somehow get more correct than correct…

You slip yourself under the table, verifying that the bolts are the proper fit— Also for the third time today. Hey, what if Home Depot fucked you earlier?! It’s important to check! You’re definitely not unreasonably anxious right now! But your power drill is practically screaming to be used at this point, so you acquiesce.

You’re on the last bolt when you hear a click of the front door opening.

“Fuck!” It scares you so shitless you jump and knock the top of your head on the table. You lay down quickly, back pressed to the floor to get a look at the perp. You point your power drill menacingly toward the front door.

Oh.

“Fuck are you doing here?” You and Carmen manage to speak in perfect unison.

There’s a beat before you opt to go first.

“Bolting.” Still lying under the table. You raise your drill upward, revving it a few times.

He swallows, sniffs, and scratches his nose. “Thought you were doing that tomorrow?”

“Technically it is tomorrow.” He scoffs, so you continue. “No, uh, Nat asked if I could come in after hours so I’m not as much of an active tripping hazard.” You gesture to yourself on the floor.

“Smart.” He rubs his eyes. He looks red and pink all over.

“…Thought you were getting off early today?”

“I did.” He clears his throat when you make a face about it. “I—I uh, did leave early, I just, just thought I’d come in and uh… Do some work.”

He rubs the back of his neck, continuing after a beat. “I’m, I’m uh, I’m good— In, in the kitchen.”

You chew at your inner cheek, staring at a very clearly distressed Carmy. His eyes are lined red, hair is in disarray.

“…Did you do it?” Did you break up with your girlfriend?

“…Yeah. I-I did.”

You just nod, thoughtful, before slipping back under the table, finishing drilling in the last bolt. “If you need a palate tester, lemme know.”

“Heard.”

The moment is soft but then cut short by you scrambling to quiet your phone atop your table when a perfectly unfitting upbeat song starts to sing out at max volume. He hides his smile poorly as he heads into the kitchen.

It’s a nice hour or so, in the front of house. You drill each bolt efficiently, grounding each booth and table in their place permanently. Your tunes play at a much lower volume now, careful to not alert the lone chef in the back. The intrusive thoughts have vanished with Carmen around, even if distant. He might not consider himself a brightening presence, but to you, he certainly is a nice lamp.

You stand up finally, finished, doing a big stretch of your arms and a crack of your back. You notice Carmen looking at you through the glass. He looks away, then back again, raising a hand, motioning for you to come in. Looks like you finished right on time.

It smells fucking incredible in here. You’re once again trying to temper your reaction as you pass through the door, not wanting to stroke his ego, but he’s already clocked it. It’s okay, you clock his boyish smirk of pride before he hides it with his hand, so you’re even.

On the steel table, plated— On their one black plate, because he’s not over having to settle for less— Are three perfectly cubed and seared pieces of marbled meat, glazed mushrooms, and some round breaded things that you’re not quite sure about. All perfectly plated and decorated with greens, parsley, specifically.

You step next to him, staring at the plate intently, taking it in visually. “Well?”

He hums in a way that sounds like a laugh, arms crossed. He stares at his own plate just as intently. “Pan-seared Wagyu— Sirloin. Wild mushrooms, basted in the same fat. Hazelnut-potato croquettes—”

“What the fuck is that?”

He doesn’t miss a beat, he just smiles— In a way that looks actually kind of genuine. He likes to teach. “Seasoned mashed potatoes, basically. Breaded with bread crumbs and hazelnut, in this case, and fried. There’s a gruyere center, to this one.”

You don’t miss the fact that he’s not stuttering anymore. He’s right. He’s good in the kitchen. In all the ways that entails.

“Test?” He lifts a fork to you. You take it.

You lean forward, elbow on the table. You take polite, small cuts of each part of the meal initially, it feels bad to destroy what is an art piece.

But then he leans forward, head meeting your level, amusement lilting his voice. “You know it’s a compliment to eat?”

You huff, taking a larger piece of everything to get it all in one bite. Everything is so soft and lush that you don’t need a knife. Goddamn. You take your bite. Son of a bitch.

You thought fucking brisket was good?

“Oh my god.” You put your hand in front of your mouth as you chew, switching your gaze to him. “Carmen, oh my fucking god!”

“Yeah?” His glow is slowly coming back to him, like a flickering halo. “Don’t pull punches.”

“Fuckin’— So good! What is it, fire? Excellent? What’s the top one? I’m angry that it’s this good.”

“Angry is a new one.”

“I’m furious!” You laugh, “I always thought luxury dining was fuckin’ scam, I’m not gonna lie to you. But I— I took one bite and I’m incredibly full and— And, it’s just— It’s really really good, Carm—Chef. Gotta show it to Syd for the menu.”

He nods, smiling, finally, unhidden. “Thank you, Chef.”

He grabs the fork from you to try for himself, but before he can get to his own plate, you press the back of your hand to his chest, holding him back. “Uh, ah, can I do a thing, for you?”

He squints, curiously, putting his fork down. “…Yes?”

You grin, walking around the kitchen the second he affirms it. “Where’s your wine box?”

“Ah… By expo, over…” He points to it.

You pop it open, hand waving over each bottle for the right one you’re searching for. “I’ll pay for it.”

“S’fine.”

A young Pinot Grigio, you go with. Ripe, sweet, airy. You walk by him again, grazing your hand on the small of his back and placing the bottle in front of him. “Open, don’t pour.”

“Heard.” He roots away for the bottle opener.

“And get me a clean knife and cutting board!”

“Fuck are you doin?” He doesn’t complain, getting what you ask for, but he is quite curious.

You sort through the fruit pantry in Marcus’ section, grabbing the most perfect white peach you can— It wouldn’t be perfect by morning, he won’t mind. “I am an occasional bartender and poor man’s sommelier…”

You meet him back at his station, slicing the peach thinly with the knife he’s left for you. “So, when I’m given the chance to pair a meal, I try to.”

You halve the thin slices, then place a few in each glass Carmen’s so kindly set out for you— Tulip bowled cups. You whistle, “You know your shit…”

His eyes light up, just a bit. He shrugs, handing you the uncorked bottle when you reach for it. “My job.”

“You’re good at it.” You pour the wine, proper— No stops missed for Carmen. “Okay, okay, okay…”

You hand him his glass— The one you think you did a slightly better peach placement on. “Alright, now you can have the dish you worked hard on.”

With a small smile, he takes a generous bite of his dish, takes his time digesting it, then sips your wine. He tilts his head, surprised by how much of a liking he’s taking to it. “S’fire. Well worth it.”

You sip your own glass, smiling, you explain before he can ask you to. “Yeah? Good. Citrusy white to cut the fat of wagyu. Or something. Poor man’s sommelier, y’know.”

“Hm.” He sniffs, and you try not to light up when he writes down the wine pairing at the bottom of his drafted recipe card. “Better than me.”

There’s a comfortable silence before he speaks up again. “You gonna head out?”

You squint at him, head tilted. “Are you?”

Once you know one Berzatto, you’ve known them all. Their tells included.

“…Eventually, yeah.”

“You drive?”

“I take the L.”

“Are you on the red or blue line?”

He doesn’t answer. So, that tells you he’s not on the only two 24-hour lines.

“…I’ll take a transfer—”

“When were you planning on going?” You cross your arms; he can tell where this is going and he hates it. You’re foiling his plan.

“When I’m done.”

“Done what?”

“…Cleaning.”

“I’ll help you,” You pick up the cutting board and knife swiftly. “I’ll give you a ride home.”

“I need to get work done—Too.” He takes a while to reply, but when he does, he speaks with haste.

You pause, putting the cutting board down. Let’s do the math here.

He said he came in ‘early’ this morning, but ‘early’ probably meant overnight because of the Fridge Guy. He left early, sure, before the dinner rush— But only to experience his first breakup—If you can call it that. Then he’s come back at midnight again, after everyone else has left. The likelihood he’s slept since the night before his opening isn’t impossible, but if he did sleep, he slept here. And he definitely hasn’t showered. He’s likely been awake 40 hours.

You nod, picking up the board again, walking it to the sink. You stand over it in thought.

“What’s wrong with home, Carm?”

“It’s gonna hit, if I go home.”

He swallows, “Everything’s gonna hit, when I go home.”

Now that you can understand. You nod, scrubbing the cutting board clean. “When your brother died, I holed up at my parents’ for two weeks.”

You don’t turn off the sink, even after you're done cleaning, because if you do, you fear he will hear your tell-tale heartbeat. “When I came back, my plants were half dead and my fridge was a biohazard.”

He sniffs, he’s waiting for the shoe to drop, for you to tell him he has to go home, that it only gets worse if you wait it out, that he needs to find a better way to deal with this—

“You can hole up at mine.”

When he doesn’t reply, you turn your head to look at him. He’s very hard to read but it looks like he’s entertaining the idea. You add, for the sake of levity, “You need a fuckin’ shower, man.”

He smirks, though the amusement doesn’t meet his eyes. “When I shower all my fuckin’ hairs gonna fall out.” He piles his dirtied utensils and boards, sidling up to the sink next to you.

“You need rosemary water.” You grab a dish rag, switching over to dry for him.

“Does that shit actually work?” You both quickly ebb into the domestic flow of handing off dishes. He mumbles ‘left-most drawer’, ‘top-shelf, right side’, and so on whenever you’re confused about where they go once they’re dry.

“It does. I have also had the ‘am I balding?’ crisis. Believe it or not.”

He stares at your hairline so intently you put your hand in front of it, flustered. He finally flicks his gaze back to yours. “If you’re really worried, you can make it pretty easy—”

“I’ll stay over.”

You take a second to register, then nod happily.

“Good. Where’s the black plate go?”

Your apartment is surprising because it’s built on top of an H&R Block, the concrete stairs leading up to it are chipped to hell, and the front door has clearly been graffitied then painted over then graffitied then painted over then graf—

And yet, it is almost certainly one of the best-looking apartments he’s seen in Chicago— On the inside at least.

None of the furniture matches, but it’s nice, it’s eclectic. It’s heavily thrifted and upcycled from furniture you found on the side of the road. That’s the nice thing, about being a fixer—Nothing’s trash if you believe in yourself. You drop your keys in a handmade clay tray— That’s the other thing Carm notices, so much of this is you alone.

The place is a mess, there’s half-finished projects in the corner of every room, tools strewn in odd places. And it’s perfectly welcoming. Warm. In a literal sense, too, because there’s a humidifier going off on a timer in the living room to make what Carmen estimates are your forty thousand plants and cuttings happy.

This is a perfect apartment because you live in it.

Nothing can hit, in here.

He comes back to reality when you reach your hand out to him, there’s a coat hanger in your other hand. Oh. Jacket.

“Oh, fuck.” He peels off his jacket, handing it to you. “I uh, I left your Carhartt at work.”

“S’fine, if I was in a rush for it back, I would’ve asked.” You brush off easily, hanging up the jean jacket in your small coat closet. “Ah…”

Your apartment has a pretty open layout, but you point at everything regardless.

“There’s the kitchen…” It’s on the right at the entry, with an open archway— Which you’re in the middle of rounding the corners on with plywood.

“The living room…” Straight ahead, he can see the half of it that isn’t blocked by the kitchen. You’ve got big windows, with a fire escape. Suncatchers and more plants are hanging from the ceiling by it.

“To the left, down the hall— The only hall, bathrooms on the right and straight ahead is the bedroom, you can put your shit there.”

His brows furrow, you say the last part quickly, and he’s going to say something but you grab the black plate he’s brought and brush past him to the kitchen.

So, he just shrugs off his backpack, “Heard.” And heads down the hall. For now.

It feels odd to put this very fancy, very expensive one black plate on top of the rest of your own cheap dishware— But he insisted you take it, so, here it is.

You march down the hall, going to grab towels for him from your room, but stop short when you hear him in the bathroom, mumbling, “Fuck is this?”

You peek in, “Fuck is what?” You come in when he turns the bottle in his hand for you to look at. You stare at it for a solid few seconds, genuinely alarmed, you look at Carmen with wide eyes.

“Carmy, look me in my eyes and tell me you know what conditioner is.”

“I—I know what conditioner is, but what are all the words for?”

“All the words?”

“Like, strengthening, bonding, texture—”

“Carmen?!”

“Don’t say my name like that…”

“You have wavy hair, too, Bear!” You stare wide-eyed, mouth in an open-mouth smile because if you don’t laugh you’ll start screaming. You swipe away the hair in front of his face, holding the tress between your fingers to get an idea of texture. You’re too focused to clock the way he flinches— At the nickname and the touch.

“We’ve got like, the same hair texture! What the fuck are you using?”

He doesn’t answer, he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

“Carmen…” You can make a pretty good guess. He bristles again. He has discovered does not like it when you say his name with any sort of animosity or disappointment.

“Carmen no… Two in One?”

“…Five in One.”

“Five in One?!” You clutch the sides of your head. “What are the Five?!”

He waves his hands in defense, “It’s—”

“Y’know what, don’t fuckin’ tell me, I don’t wanna know, I don’t need to know.” You cover your face and shake your head. “Just— I will get you clothes and a towel, wash—” You reach into your shower, grabbing your fruity body wash. “—Wash yourself with this, like a civilized person— And just don’t— Don’t touch your hair, I’ll take care of your hair after you shower.”

“You’ll take care—”

“You’ve lost your hair privileges; I will be taking up the arms.”  You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I just—You need a tutorial, please.”

He holds the body wash in his hand, debating this fight or not, “I think five is—”

“Just fuckin’ say heard.”

“Heard.”

Despite everything, you both laugh. You tap the doorway on your way out, yelling to no one as you turn back down the hall. “Corner!” It’s worth it when he laughs again.

Ironically, the one shirt you know will fit him that you have is ‘The Berf’, so you grab that. Pants are a bit tougher, but with enough scrounging through your closet you find a long-forgotten pair of sweatpants your brother left here ages ago.

You approach the bathroom door, it’s still ajar, so you invite yourself in. He’s staring at your skincare products with a clinical fascination, stopping only to acknowledge your presence.

“Alright, alright.” You pop your pile of things down on the sink counter, handing each thing to him individually.

“New toothbrush.” Still packaged. It’s got your dentist’s address on the clear plastic. “Pyjamas. Towel, wash cloth— I think you’re good.”

When you turn your head to look at him, you catch the tail end of him staring— Again, his eye contact is so soft and also scary. And now that the sleep is catching up to him, he’s half-lidded and— Goddamn it he is very pretty, sonofabitch.

He straightens up, sniffing, nodding as a form of thanks, the likelihood he’s registered anything you’ve said isn’t likely— Which is fine, you are now too flustered to care. There’s a boy in your house and you’ve just discovered he’s pretty.

“I’m just gonna wash my face n’ grab a few things and I’ll be out of your way.”

You wash your hands; he unwraps his toothbrush. And without verbally checking in, you once again flow into a silent rhythm. You grab your toothbrush, dole out toothpaste on both of your brushes, and stare at yourselves and each other in the mirror, side by side as you brush.

You make a face, and while he doesn’t fuckin’ guffaw, he does smile, foam peeking through the corners of his mouth, and that’s enough for you.

You rinse— You try to be dainty about it but it’s not, because when has brushing your teeth ever been dignified?

You pump face cleanser into your palm, then nod to him to do the same. Good Carm, he listens. Like a mime tutorial, he follows your actions of foaming it in the hands and properly washing his face. There’s hope for this five in one boy yet.

You pile together your skincare and leave him to shower in peace. More importantly, leave to let yourself lose it in peace.

Oh my god there’s a pretty boy in your bathroom and it’s two in the morning. What the fuck were you thinking? You just invited him over without hesitation? You met him like barely two days ago! Oh my god! There’s a pretty boy in your bathroom! And it’s two! In the morning!

You need to kill the teenage girl in your head because she’s freaking you the fuck out. You were literally being so calm and chill and cool and cool and chill and calm— Oh my god you’re doing it again—

Everything is fine. He’s literally here because he’s experiencing a torrential downpour of awful. You invited him over because you’d invite anyone like that over. Pretty or not. Get your head in order.

You take a deep, mindful breath and exhale, returning to neutral as you meditatively go through your skincare routine and change into your nice pajamas— Y’know, the one modest matching set for when you have guests or go somewhere. Instead of the one usual incredibly stained oversized t-shirt.

You set up a chair by your kitchen sink, towel on the back for comfort. You were serious about the hair thing. Your scalp and his are curly girl sisters, you cannot leave them to die like this.

When he comes out, knots in his back undone, steam wafting, grime finally removed, he approaches you with much more energy, and leans against the doorway. You both speak at once.

“Weird to see you out of uniform.”

You snort; he flattens his mouth into a line to keep from smiling too hard (which, for Carmen, would really just mean smiling with his teeth). But really, it is weird. You’re both suddenly… People. You can see all his tattoos and his stupid gold chain...And he can see you.

You kick the chair with your foot, gesturing to it. “Sit, I’m washing your hair.”

You’re walking past him before he’s got the chance to deny, collecting proper products from the bathroom to use. Y’know. Not fucking five in one.

Once again, good Carm listens, sitting in the chair. Not without complaints, though. “Big fan of babying people?”

You wrap the towel behind his neck, tilting his head back into the sink. If you pretend, it’s like a salon. You hum in reply, blunt, “Yeah, I am.”

“I like to take care of people. In a way, it’s kind of my job.” You re-rinse his hair once the water is warm— Thank God your kitchen faucet is a sprayer.

“You’re good at it.” He’s too comfortable and lethargic to be aggro about this, so he’s just sweet and honest. It’s hard not to beam.

“I try.” You massage shampoo through his scalp, “I know I’m pushy about it, sometimes.”

He sighs, a breath of relief. When’s the last time someone else washed his hair? He’s been cutting his own for years, he cannot remember the last time. Had to have been before New York.

“Were you pushy with Mikey?” He’s not fully sure why he said that, and he’s waiting for you to make him regret asking it.

You just hum, nostalgically amused, “I think I got pushy because of Mikey.”

“Stopped hoping my friends would take care of themselves with the right tools and decided to just take care of them myself.” You rinse the bubbles from his hair. You’re happy to see his wavy pattern returning.

“A lot of work.”

“Not to me.”

You pump conditioner into your hand— And while he’d probably love for you to elaborate on that point, you have to pivot, “Alright, this part you actually should pay attention to— When you condition— Because you will be conditioning, from this point on.”

He just grunts in reply, but it sounds like enough of a yes to you.

“—When you do it, you’ll hang your head upside down and apply conditioner from the bottom— You gotta like, squeeze your hair in it—” You do the proper routine, squelching his hair, does he laugh at the sound? Yes. Yes, he does. “It’ll sound like that. And then rinse.”

You look at his peaceful, amused expression. His eyes closed. “Heard.”

“Are you retaining any of this?”

“I said heard, didn’t I?”

You just scoff, rinsing his hair. You teach him how to scrunch with the towel, but his eyes are so dazed during it you give the poor boy a break and don’t explain that what you’re putting in his hair is mousse. He might have an aneurysm if you use a ‘food word’ in relation to hair right now.

“Alright, alright, the exhaustion is setting in, let’s get you to bed before you start seeing spiders.” You take his arm and hoist him up. Everything is fine until this bozo tries walking to the living room while you’re trying to pull him down the hall. You once again, speak in sync.

“What’re you doing?”

“I’m taking the couch.”

He now realizes why you spoke so quickly about him putting his things away in your room instead of the living room. It’s like you just awoke every Italian ancestor in his bones because he is immediately alert.

“No, you’re not.”

That’s fine because he’s in your household, motherfucker. Your family tree is in the furniture.

“You’re the guest. You take the bed.”

“You’re the host. You take the bed.”

“I’m the one that invited you.”

“And what? You’re the girl.”

At a point, you are both speaking with your hands, words tumbling on top of each other's.

“Bitch—” “It’s just not right—” “I literally made you come over specifically to get proper rest—” “I will be haunted all night by my Nonna if you sleep on the couch—” “The couch is a pull-out, it’s comfortable!” “Then let me use it!” “No!”

This is going nowhere fast.

“My own grandmother takes the couch when I visit. She would throw me off my own balcony if I made a guest take the couch.” Is your hard stance.

And his, “My Nonno would stab me if I let a pretty girl sleep on a couch.”

Now this does immediately shut you the fuck up.

That doesn’t mean he’s won; he’s also shut the fuck up. A slip-up of mutually assured destruction.

You bite back your wheeze of shocked laughter, and you’re very thankful it’s two in the morning now because the moonlight through the window doesn’t entirely catch your reaction of being embarrassingly bashful in this moment. How did the teen girl in you survive? You were so sure you got her…

Your hands hang in the air for a moment, before you finally manage to say, “Either I take the couch—”

“No—”

“Or, it’s a double, so we share it.” You shrug, wringing your hands, “So whichever one you find the least sacrilege.”

God, there’s no simple way to make that not sound like you’re coming onto him, is there? You’re not, for the record. It’s just the fastest solution. You’ve shared beds before, it’s not a big deal— It’s actually only a big deal if you make it one, it’s actually very normal—Get this fucking teen out of here—!

“Fuckin’— Alright!” He huffs after thinking on it for some time, rubbing his forehead in some sort of anguish before marching down the hall.

When you don’t follow, he clicks his teeth. “C’mon, Tony.” His tone is languid and aggravated.

Ah, the sweet sound of a man who has had to compromise— But will be damned if he doesn’t get his part of said compromise. Also the sound of a man who really wishes he hadn't just said pretty girl.

You follow him to your room. Fuck it. Say the thing. You've been trying to keep a level social playing field with him anyway.

“Heard, pretty boy!"

two idiots realize the other one is pretty and nice and try to not acknowledge it (DIFFICULTY LEVEL: IMPOSSIBLE)

Would you believe me if I said I was trying to not do the 'one bed' trope? I really was! I'm not a huge trope guy! But writing it down I was like 'neither of these people would fucking fold'. The only other option would be for both of them to stare at each other in the hallway for 8 hours and come to no agreement. Did not plan Pretty Girl but thank god because it was the only thing that would get them out of that time loop.

It's always my favourite thing when a person who's been cavalier when it comes to boundaries suddenly finds their line (he's pretty) and is now immediately so hyphy. I hope you also messed with this.

Tell me your thoughts!! Favourite bits, lines, etc!! Feeds me!! (Oh, speaking of fed, shout out to Daniel NYC, I did steal their menu for this. I'll probably do it again because I am not a Michelin Star Chef.)

[mayashesfly]

Choice (FRAU)

When Alastor finally realized that Vox's memories of him were all wiped out, his first instincts was to rush to the Vee Tower in a fit of rage.

There was only one person who could've done this, and it must be him.

Valentino had been shocked to suddenly have the Radio Demon at him, choking him to near death in an unsexy way.

Of all the time the Radio Demon just had to rush into the Vee Tower of fucking course he would choose to do so when Vox was away!

(Alastor knew that too well, giving him even more incentive to get his questions answered right now without endangering Vox)

When Valentino realized what had riled up the Radio Demon so much that he'll try to kill him based on his barely restrained death threats and ramblings, he tried to tell him the truth only for his answers to be snuffed out of his throat, choking on his own pheromones and spit.

Alastor wouldn't listen to any of his lies. Vox would've never forgotten him! He knows his old friend like the back of his hand. He would never... never....

It only stopped when Velvette rushed into the room, heaving from how quickly she ran when she had gotten Valentino's distress signal.

Alastor was about to lunge at her despite their silent agreement to never intervene when it comes to Alastor, Valentino, and Vox's weird schtick.

But that was not here and now when Alastor was fucking choking her best friend and business partner to death.

With a click of a button, rows upon rows of tv screen descended from the ceiling.

Showing a recording of the very same thing in different angles.

The timestamp burned on the corner, counting up as the security cameras looked upon the scene of Vox walking around in the middle of the Vee's hangout spot.

He was talking as Valentino and Velvette asked if he really wanted to do this.

He shook his head as he waved of their concern. "It's for the better. Really, I want to do this"

Valentino's hand caressed Vox's cheek on the screen as Alastor's grip tightened.

Before loosening at the next words that came out of his mouth.

"It's time for me to forget Alastor once and for all."

The next words that tumbled out of his mouth didn't register in Alastor's mind as he continued to stare, frozen in place. Staring at the contents of the screen like a deer in headlights.

He didn't see the way Valentino looked at Velvette, questioning. Before she shook her head, gesturing at the remote she had in her hand. Vox's branding on it unmistakable as Valentino relaxed with a small forlorn grin.

Of course he would know to prepare this ahead of time just in case. That control freak fool.

The video continued on as Alastor shuddered. Listening to Vox's plans on erasing his memories of the Radio Demon and how happy he would be since he'll finally be able to fully focus on their business and hanging out with the Vees.

He had even ruined some of his mementos about Alastor to ensure nothing like before would happen again!

Before lines of dead pixels appeared on his screen.

Barely visible despite the numerous angles. Almost purposeful in its design.

But Alastor could see.

There was a choking noise before the Vees slowly walked towards him.

And embraced him in a tight hug.

He felt his throat go dry.

As the dead pixels gather even more before slowly fading away.

And the video cuts off completely.

Alastor continued to stare at the black screen, ears pinned back. Before he lightly shook his head, ears spiking back up as he twirled his cane.

"Well, that was quite the picture show you put on" He said coolly as Valentino's brow perked up, arms crossed in annoyance.

"It's not fucking fabricated if that's what you're inclined to believe" Velvette said as she continued to hold the remote, hand on her hip before she pointed at the screen furthermore. "You saw the damned timestamp ticking away! Fabricating all of those damn angles would be a pain in the arse."

"Ah! But not impossible" Alastor quipped back, twirling his cane back in his hand with a smile. Before he glared at the two.

"There's no going about it, Radio Demon. What you saw was real." Velvette hissed in reply. Barely restraining herself from calling this bastard a foolish fossil.

"Carino, I understand that you're upset" Valentino huffed out, the bruises that the Radio Demon inflicted on him already healing away unlike those inflicted on him by Voxxy. "But Voxxy has already made his choice. There's not much to be done"

"You don't know that" He grimaced.

"Oh but I do. Voxxy even made sure of it" Valentino walked around him as he took out a stick of cigarette unlit. "Made a program himself to ensure any mention or interaction of you would be erased from his mind instantly"

He chose us.

Chose me.

Unlike you.

[self-loving-vampire]

Speaking of plurality, now that the other me is playing FFXIV with people I noticed something interesting.

When playing various games we have some degree of shared muscle memory, which probably should not be surprising.

But the interesting part is that in this one instance it's not all the way there even after adopting my hotkey setup. The most apparent part is that she keeps forgetting she has a mount even though I never do (should learn soon enough though).

Another interesting bit is that she's not really sure which class to play since she wants to go into one that fits her best. She started out as a conjurer (which promotes to white mage) so she could focus on healing but didn't like the druidish nature-user angle of it. I probably should have told her it was like that.

Meanwhile, I am predictably a dark knight main.

[pickled-paintbrush]

I cleared out this bottom cubby shelf under my bookcase and have spent the past month or so crafting a little den for Clementine...looks like she's a fan!

[churipu]

OUTFIT CHECK 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, iatdori yuuji x reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. jjk men being in love with you.

note. i'm back! i managed to fit in writing this in the middle of my midterms, i just finished my qualitative research paper for the midterms and i have 3 more take home exams to do. i hope you like this piece <33

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

you stood in front of the mirror, shifting your body from side to side, eying your reflection from different angles. raising a brow, you heaved out a soft sigh — before eventually twirling to face gojo who had been sitting on the edge of the bed. his icy blue eyes had been gazing at you for as long as you've been standing in front of the mirror against your reflection.

"'toru, do you think i look—"

gojo hushes you, putting a finger onto your lips, shutting you up immediately, "no, you don't look bad, and no your outfit doesn't look weird. you look beautiful," he rattles with a small smile.

"but i just feel like something's wrong with my combination," you said, stepping back to disperse from his finger, "like something's out of place. i just don't know what . . ."

gojo slipped an arm across your shoulder, turning your body to face your reflection, "i don't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, baby — you're really pretty . . . and i look pretty amazing too," he winked cheekily at the mirror, kissing the side of your face.

the male had been sitting on the edge of the bed, paying attention to you analyzing your own outfit for the past fifteen minutes. twirling here and there, stepping backwards and forwards cluelessly. the male didn't see anything wrong with your outfit or you, in fact, you looked absolutely stunning in his point of view.

his comment made you break a small smile.

"is this top too revealing?" you turn your back to the mirror, revealing a slight peek at your fragrant s/c skin.

"baby, baby," he scoffs, "i'm the strongest, i can fight, you know? and you look beautiful in that top, you should wear it often, yeah?" his slender fingers grazes over your exposed skin gently, sending shivers down your spine.

a string of laughter escaped your throat, "i love you, you know that?"

the male leaned in and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, "i love you more. no complaints."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

"do you think the top suits the bottom?" you asked nanami after changing into your third pants of the day — brows furrowed in frustration as nothing seemed to be clicking.

nanami raised his eyes from the book he had in his grasp, "you look beautiful," he complimented yet again for the third time.

"kento, how am i supposed to pick an outfit when you keep complimenting them all? help me pick one, will you?" nanami didn't understand why you were insistent on the 'mismatched' outfit (at least you think it is).

but in his eyes, everything seemed well-matched. he'd say it's a 11/10 for your ability to match these outfits of yours, "how? you look beautiful in them all."

groaning out, you raise two bags. a black and sage green bag, "pick one."

nanami inspected the two bags and then looked back at your outfit briefly, "the sage green one would fit perfectly with your outfit now," he pointed.

"okay. how about a jacket, do you think i'll need one?" you questioned, rummaging through the closet, "you always have a hunch of what i'd feel, it's your judgement."

he pondered your words for a bit, "take a jacket. forecast said it's going to be cold tonight, i don't want you getting sick."

you chuckled and bobbed your head, "right. anything else i should bring?"

"pepper spray."

"check."

"be careful, yes? call me if anything happens," nanami whispers, standing up from the bed — initially he wanted to come along with you to meet your friends. but he thought that he'd be a bother to you so he stopped himself from asking, "i love you so much."

"i love you more," you kissed his lips, to which he returned.

"let's drop you there, hm?" nanami grabs your hips, giving your flesh a slight squeeze, leading you out of the house.

𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐘𝐔𝐔𝐉𝐈

"y/n, do you — oh, wow."

yuuji stood, a hand on the handle of the door he just opened and another on the doorway. his jaw dropped at the sight of you, his partner.

you stood in front of a mirror, blinking cluelessly at his reaction. not knowing whether it was his surprise because of how good you looked or the other way around, "yuuji? do i what?"

yuuji blinked himself back into reality, entering the room mutely, his back leaned onto the shut door, "where are you off to?"

shaking your head you gazed back at your reflection, "i'm just mix and matching for a hang out with nobara tomorrow, does this look funny?"

he shook his head harshly, "no, no, you look really nice! really pretty," yuuji honestly said before inhaling, you quite literally took his breath away.

"really? the color suits?" you asked, pinching the shirt you're wearing, "is the pants a bit too short?"

yuuji stood still, "no . . . you — wow, you just look so pretty y/n. i don't know what else to tell you . . ." he whispers, entranced by your figure as he detached his back from the door to approach you.

mustering out a smile, you gave him a hug, "thanks yuuji, you're the best."

he nuzzled his nose into your hair, "you're so beautiful," yuuji mumbled before kissing the crown of your head.

all of a sudden, yuuji pulls back, his face stern and a frown on his face, "how come you're going out with kugisaki and i'm not invited?" he asks you, narrowing his eyes.

"baby, i promise it's just me and her. i'll get you something special on the way back and then we can watch movies? your pick." you pinched his cheeks gently.

"any movies?"

you nod, "any movies."

"okay! deal." yuuji beams out, kissing your cheek.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[ozzgin]

The wonderful wizard Ozz. I have had this concept stuck in my head like a worm!

Could you imagine a Darling escaping from their Yan, not to run but just to feel the rain on their skin? I've been consuming this prompt like a heroin addict and I can't seem to get enough!

If I were to expand your prompt, I quite like the idea of a Yandere that can't really go full yandere because Reader is just too willing. He loves yandere content and can very much relate, but none of the escalations can happen if, well, the object of his obsessive affection doesn't protest in the first place. Is it too far fetched from what you'd imagined? Let me elaborate:

Yandere! Male x Willing! Reader

AKA: When you want to be a Yandere, but your Darling unfortunately cooperates.

The Yandere has been stalking Darling for months. Journal entries, walls plastered with photos (and the occasional creepshots), recordings. He just can't get enough of his Darling. He loves everything about you and can barely function throughout the day, fantasizing about your life together.

Enough is enough and he finally decides to make you his. He's been consuming media of similar tropes, with obsessed men pleading for a chance and having to force their way in because of rejection and fear. He's prepared for everything. Your tears, your trembling voice, your hands pushing him away. He finds you, approaches you and confesses his feelings, knuckles white as he grips his fists in anticipation. Your eyes widen for a moment, before narrowing in a smile. "I had no idea! Sure, I'll go out with you." Huh? Wait. This wasn't...this wasn't in the plan. Somehow he'd been certain you'd refuse. He must've mumbled the last part out loud, because you respond with "Why would I say no?"

A very good point indeed. You will change your mind, however, once you learn the extent of his love. You're holding his hand and following along as he takes you to his place, completely and utterly unaware of what you're about to witness. He can't truly be your boyfriend if he has to hide his very nature, after all. You might be disgusted, frightened, offended. He can already hear your screams, demanding explanations. It's all out of love. "It's okay if you don't understand", he mumbles to himself, watching your frozen body as you gaze into his room. You take a couple of steps towards the nearest wall, tracing the hundreds of images with your fingers. "Wow. You never mentioned being into photography", you remark, impressed. "It's like an exhibition! But...you might have to work on your angles", you blurt out, a little embarrassed, pointing to one of the creepshots. "This isn't very flattering. Did you take it in a hurry? It makes my legs look disproportionate." He can only stare, taken aback. "S-sorry" is all he manages.

Okay, but don't imagine your life will continue as usual. You've only seen a glimpse of his adoration. Now that you're officially dating, he cannot allow anyone else to have access to you. You have to understand, he cannot protect you properly if you're not under his watch all the time. As much as he cherishes you, he will have to be rough if needed. That's what he tells himself as he shoves the required tools in the trunk of his car, speeding towards your apartment. Once there, he fidgets on the sofa, considering his speech. You seem to be just as uneasy - perhaps you're predicting what's to come? - casting your eyes down and giving short answers. "I think you should move in with me." He states solemnly. You gasp and throw a hand over your mouth, and tears quickly well in the corner of your eyes. "How did you...how did you know?" You say between sobs. Huh? "I didn't want to burden you with my problems, seeing as we just started dating...but my landlord won't renew the lease. I was so scared I'd be homeless."

He clicks his tongue. This isn't very yandere, more like the average couple experience. You bring the final moving box to his car, fitting it in the trunk. "By the way, what's with all the rope?" you ask. "Just move it aside", he sighs. How can he explain it? He's been training, sweating and bleeding for a marathon and right before the whistle, they handed him the first prize. His muscles are aching for the sprint that never happened. Of course he's grateful to have you at last, but somehow he feels like he hasn't proven his dedication properly. You just don't get it, do you? How sickening his love is for you.

As the days pass, he eases into his role of...how does one even call it? Pseudo-captor? When you found his journal, you blushed and confessed how no one before him put this amount of effort into knowing you. All the male contacts from your phone vanishing? It was about time you cleaned up your acquaintances and it was nice of him to help. The AirTags he's hidden in your bags and pockets? You appreciate his safety concerns. Nowadays, with all these perverts freely walking the streets, you can never be too sure.

One morning he wakes up to an empty bed. He jolts up, dazed. Could it be his wish was finally granted? You must've gotten tired of him and tried to escape. Oh, silly little Darling love. You should've known there's no more walking out once you said yes. He checks his phone and pounces out, ready for the hunt. As he sprints along the street, he finds you suspiciously close to his home. Not very smart of you to...what are you even doing? Your hands are raised up, fingers fanned out under the pouring rain. You notice his presence and turn to face him with a wide, childish grin. "I haven't done this since I was a child. When was the last time you felt the rain on your skin?" Only now it occurs to him he's been running in this downpour and his clothes are soaked. He was too focused on finding you.

"I thought you escaped", he almost whispers. "Escape? From what?" You tilt your head in confusion. He places his cold, large hands over your cheeks. "Do you comprehend I'm very much obsessed with you? I'm not joking around. You're never, ever leaving me. You're stuck here forever. I mean it. I really do. I'd rather kill you with my own hands than let you go. Because I love you." You take a moment to admire the intricate patterns of his irises, pupils dilated in a spiraling madness. By the end of his erratic oration, he's panting and digging his nails into your skin.

"I know."

[delulujuls]

tinder buddies | ln4

hi! i have no idea how to comment on that. i've got inspiration from the rumors that are now going on twitter and tiktok about lando and his activity in sm and i thought man, i need to write something in this narrative because sexting with him??? scuse me??? but of course all of this is fiction and and i dont have any statement on the rumors about lan, mostly because all of these are rumors and not facts. anyway, pls leave his poor papaya ass alone and enjoy this instead!

summary: when you met your tinder buddy irl and realize how indeed world is small

warnings: masturbation on cam (both male and female), bit of swearing, in general alott of sexual tention

pairing: fem!journalist!reader x lando norris

Y/N thought that she was good at what she was doing. She thought that despite her young age she fit in the world of motorsport really well. Sometimes it even crossed her mind that she was no different from her older colleagues, what's more, sometimes she even thought that she was better than them. However, she admitted this only to herself with complete modesty and behind tightly closed doors.

Apart from the fact that Y/N was a really good journalist whose career was growing at a surprising pace, at the end of the day she was just a twenty-two-year-old girl who, like many other twenty-two-year-old girls in the world, had her smaller and bigger sins.

Y/N breathed heavily as she entered her hotel room. She set her suitcase and bag aside, taking off her shoes and plopping down on the bed. It was well after midnight, her flight was delayed by several hours and she was simply exhausted by the passing day. Even though she was excited about the events that awaited her in a few hours, right now she was just tired. However, she knew perfectly well what would help her relax before going to sleep. Not so much what, but who.

The girl unlocked her phone and easily found the Instagram icon, clicking on it and going straight to the messages. She entered the first conversation and was about to write some prosaic message, but she didn't have time to type out half of the sentence when a new message appeared in the chat.

"u up?"

Y/N smiled to herself. It looked like she could count on a pleasant end to the day.

"I was just about to ask you the same thing"

The reply message appeared a moment later.

"i was waiting for you to be available. i thought the evening would be wasted"

"And yet you see, surprise"

The person on the other end smiled and untied the drawstring on his sweatpants. He quickly wrote his answer with one hand.

"wanna call?"

"I think you know the answer"

She smiled and reached for the switch and turned off the light, pressing the camera icon with her other hand.

Y/N and the boy she had been messaging with for a little over a month knew next to nothing about each other. She had a private account and a few photos, he had a black icon and an empty profile. He only knew her name, she only the first letter of his. They met on Tinder, their profiles there looked quite similar. She has a few photos, more of the body than the face, he has the same, mostly in black and white. They had never seen each other's faces, but they knew each other's bodies inside and out.

Y/N placed her phone on the table and leaned it against the lamp, which she turned on a moment later. The light from it was dim, but it illuminated her body enough. The angle her phone was at only showed her from the neck down. She was perfect at maintaining her privacy.

"New background?"

He asked, seeing that the surroundings behind her were different from those he had seen before. She pulled her sweatshirt over her head, leaving her in only a bra and a thin t-shirt.

"I'm away from home"

"Work?"

"Too many questions"

There was quiet laughter on the other side. He liked her temperament. He liked her curves even more and the sounds she made when, at his command, she pushed her fingers inside her and brought herself to orgasm. Yes, he liked that too.

"Yeah, you're right. Strip."

Y/N pulled the t-shirt over her head and her interlocutor saw a red, lace bra that he never seen on her before. He smiled and ran his hand over his crotch. He felt a chill run through him.

"You look good, baby. Red suits you"

She laughed and pushed her hair behind her shoulders.

"Is this the first time you gonna tell me to keep my bra on?"

"For now, yes. I'd love to look at it for a while" he squeezed his cock and began to lightly massage it through the fabric. "You know what to do, dont'cha?"

Y/N bit her lip and lifted her hands, placing them gently on her shoulders. She slowly moved them down her body and when she found her breasts, she slowly started massaging them in circular motions. She closed her eyes and tilted her head slightly, hearing the sigh that came from her phone. He watched her carefully, following her every move.

"Take it off," he said after a while, "It's pretty, but I think I prefer you without it."

She quickly took off her bra and threw it aside. He smiled at the sight of her breasts. Y/N returned to them, continuing their massage. As she lightly pinched her nipples, she moaned softly. His cock vibrated at the sound that came from his headphones. He smiled.

"Does it feel good, baby?"

"Mhm, yeah" she answered, looking again at her phone "But you're playing unfair again. I have to see you too."

He chuckled and shook his head.

"You don't let me enjoy you"

He replied and put down the phone, quickly pulling his shirt over his head. He fell back on the pillows and turned on the light on his phone. Y/N smiled at the sight of the familiar, slightly tanned and toned torso. Her interlocutor didn't see it, but she smiled even more when he tightened his hand on his cock, which was now clearly visible on the gray material of his trousers.

"Take off the rest of your clothes and lie down"

He ordered. Y/N obediently lay down, taking off her pants and underwear. When the rustle of fabric could be heard on the other side, he easily freed himself from his pants and tight, slightly damp boxers. He spat on his hand and spread the saliva over his cock, feeling it tighten under his touch. Fuck, what he would give if instead of his hand it was this tiny hand that disappeared between the pair of thighs he saw on the screen of his phone.

The girl complied with his command and he saw her middle finger slowly sinking inside her, only to come out after a while covered with her juices.

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath, "You're so wet, baby."

“I wish you were here and licked me clean.”

Y/N said, rubbing her clit. She felt that she wouldn't need much to reach orgasm.

Her interlocutor smiled under his breath, but she wasn't able to see it.

"I'm afraid that i would make you even more wet."

"Someone has quite an ego here"

"I know my capabilities, baby."

She snorted under her breath and made herself more comfortable, inserting her finger into herself again. First one, quite slowly, and soon she added another one. A long moan filled the hotel room as she began to move them, imagining that it was not her but him who was fucking her. And not with his fingers, but with his wet, hard cock.

"Yeah, just like that, baby. Keep going."

His eyes carefully followed the screen and the activities taking place on it. His hand moved smoothly over his cock, his lips were slightly opened. As he was stroking himself, the glass of his watch on his wrist reflected the light from the phone. He wore it every time they cam together. Y/N didn't know anything about watches, so she didn't know what brand it was or whether it was expensive. They never talked about it, honestly, they basically never had a normal chat. However, he once asked her about the tattoo on her forearm, just below the inner bend of her elbow. He noticed it after the first time they met on camera. When it was all over and they were about to hang up and return to their real lives, he asked about it.

"What does 33 mean?"

He asked when the girl started getting dressed.

"What?"

"Tattoo on your arm"

The girl looked at her forearm and only then did she understand what he was asking about.

"I can't tell you because you'll make fun of me"

Hearing this, he smiled. Not because there was probably some stupid story behind it, but because the girl was concerned about not looking bad in front of him. Even though they absolutely didn't know each other.

"I barely know your name, I don't know why I would make fun of you."

Y/N was silent for a moment, glancing at her tattoo and lightly stroking it with her thumb.

"Do you know Formula 1?"

He smiled and nodded. His reaction, however, was beyond her reach.

"I know a thing or two"

"My favorite driver drives with this number. Well, actually he did, now his number is 1. But for me it will still be associated with 33"

The girl explained. She felt a bit embarrassed to expose herself to him, especially with something like this. However, he did not laugh at her or comment on her confession in any negative way.

"I have a friend who is also involved in motorsport and has the same number. Actually, not anymore, because he also had to change it. But for me it will also be associated only with 33"

Y/N smiled at his words. Sometimes she wondered if they could become friends and get to know each other a little better. But then she decided to come down to earth and remind herself that she had no time for relationships or friendships. Now the most important thing for her is work and career, everything else can wait. After all, no one will satisfy her as much as herself. Right?

"Fuck, I could fill you so good, baby," he moaned, gasping for breath. He felt that he was only seconds away from orgasm "You have no idea how much pleasure I would give you."

The girl's lips were opened, her eyelids were shut tightly. She massaged her clit with her left hand and moved the fingers of her right hand inside her in quick, uneven movements.

"I'm about to- I…oh my god-"

“Yes, baby, thats it" he gasped, speeding up "Cum for me.”

She felt a wave of pleasure wash over her. The moment her back arched, she heard a long "fuck" coming from her phone. He came shortly after her, staining his toned abs with his sperm. He squeezed his eyes shut and tilted his head back, trying to calm his breathing. There was silence on both sides for a moment, neither of them moving an inch.

After some time, Y/N sat on the bed and reached for a tissue, wiping her hands on it.

"I have to go now. I have a lot of work waiting for me tomorrow."

"Me too. I wanted to let you know that we may not be able to have a call tomorrow."

He answered, also wiping himself.

“It's okay, no big deal,” Y/N replied and took one last look at the muscled, tanned torso visible on her phone screen, “Good night. And good luck with your chores tomorrow.”

“Good night, baby. You too.”

She smiled and reached for her phone, ending the call. Exhausted from the previous day and the evening cam session, she just buried herself in the blanket and shortly after fell asleep. The next day, when her alarm went off, she was full of energy despite several hours of sleep. She couldn't wait for saturday's qualifying and all she was thinking about as she was getting ready was whether she would be able to get good material.

As she put on her red bra, she smiled involuntarily as she remembered last night. She wondered if he had already gotten lost in the whirlwind of his today's duties. Y/N quickly got dressed, gathered her things and, putting her pass around her neck, left the hotel. When she got to the track and was in the paddock, she couldn't think about anything else. Her only thoughts revolved around what was going to happen on the track in a few dozen minutes. However, for a split second she wondered what her tinder buddy actually knew about Formula 1. Maybe they could have something to talk about? Maybe she could even take him to some grand prix?

Her thoughts disappeared when she noticed Lando Norris hanging around the McLaren garage. The girl asked the cameraman to prepare the equipment and she would ask the Brit if he would be willing to have a short conversation. She squeezed the microphone in her hand and without thinking, she approached him, introducing herself and asking if it was possible to record a short conversation.

Hearing her name, his heart did a flip. He knew that name very well.

"Sure, no problem"

He replied with a smile, obviously not revealing himself, and ran his hand through his hair. The glass of the watch strapped to his wrist gleamed in the sunlight. Y/N had seen this watch before. Many times.

The girl smiled back and, hearing his agreement, gave a thumbs up to the cameraman. When she raised her hand, the sleeve of her shirt rolled up, and Lando's eyes involuntarily caught the tattoo on her forearm. A slight 33, just below the bend in the elbow.

He felt a sudden wave of heat wash over him. It's a coincidence, right? It must be.

"How's your mood before qualifying?"

Y/N asked, putting the microphone down and straightening her shirt. As she was arranging her collar, Lando's eyes caught a glimpse of her red bra strap. He smiled to himself and looked down. He wondered how many accidents and coincidences had come together in the universe and resulted in this situation.

"What? Something wrong?"

The girl asked, not knowing what made him react like that.

He shook his head and after a moment looked up again. He looked at the girl carefully. However, she was completely lost and looked at him questioningly.

"Sorry, as you can probably see, my mood is great. I'm positive about today's qualifying."

Y/N tentatively gripped her microphone. When the cameraman approached them, they started recording the footage and she had no time to analyze Lando's strange behavior. In fact, it was possible that this was their first and last conversation ever, so why should she care about it. When they managed to record a short material, Y/N thanked him and wished him successful qualifications. After that everyone went their separate ways.

Immediately after entering the garage, Lando found his phone buried in a pile of his things. He quickly entered his latest conversation on Instagram and, without thinking, decided to send the girl a message. Worst case scenario, he'll just make a fool of himself, which isn't a big deal since they don't know each other at all. At best, he would spend tonight as he had long dreamed of.

"ure even prettier than i thought, baby."

Y/N felt a vibration in her pants pocket and without thinking, she unlocked her phone. She was surprised to see a notification coming from Instagram, and she was even more surprised when she noticed who sent her the message. After reading it, she felt a cold sweat break out on her. However, she decided to think and act soberly.

"How do you know what I look like?"

"turn around"

Lando replied quickly and leaned against the threshold of his garage. The girl clutched her phone in her hands and obeyed his command with her heart beating wildly. Lando smiled at her, holding his still unlocked phone. Y/N felt a lack of saliva in her mouth. It's impossible, it's not really happening.

"Are you sure we're looking at the same person?"

She replied, having difficulty pressing the appropriate keys with her fingers. He was amused by her reaction. This whole situation didn't make sense to him. It was crazy.

"im looking at a pretty neat journalist with a mad bunda who has a tattoo with my friend's racing number. and u?"

Y/N blushed. Fuck. It's him.

"I see that your jumpsuit is a little tight in some places."

Lando snorted under his breath. The girl wasn't lying. The whole situation made quite an impression on him.

Y/N bit her lip and looked up. She'd be lying if she said it wasn't arousing.

"u know exactly why its tight"

"I guess I have to find out in real life. The camera likes to lie."

When she sent the message, she looked up again and their eyes locked. The Brit winked at her and quickly replied, turning on his heel and disappearing into the depths of the garage.

"my driver's room in five minutes. ill be happy to dispel your doubts"

[spiceofvy]

Hihi! I have a request. Can I have a skz headcannon when their dick doesn’t fit. Ty!

SKZ - When their dick doesn't fit

cws: gender neutral reader, nsfw, bottom reader, dirty talk, mentions of reader potentially getting hurt, foreplay, fingering, aftercare, corruption kink (Chan), mentioned overstimulation (Minho), praise (Changbin, Hyunjin), slight degradation (Seungmin)

Chan: So cocky. Like really fucking cocky. His corruption kink going brrr. "Oh it doesn't fit? Poor baby never had something big like this inside huh?" Of course he would never try to force anything, knowing that it could hurt you. But man does it give you a confidence boost. Maybe jerks off on your body to "spare you". Cocky boy.

Minho: "Doesn't fit? Well guess I need to loosen your muscles then." And then overstimulates you until you are loose enough for him. Carefully prepping you with his fingers stretching you slowly. Definitely has a bit of a power trip while doing so. So so much aftercare afterwards. Talks you through everything he does and checks in with you the whole time.

Changbin: Also cocky, not as much as Chan but still a good bit, tries to show it less though. Prepares you softly for him, whispering some sweet praise into your ear. Asks you twice if you really feel ready. Very slow, very sweet. "Look how good you take me. Feeling so good on my dick, squeezing me just like that." Very confident in his game.

Hyunjin: Honestly? This is like his number one fear for him. He is so scared of hurting you, that he always goes extra slow. Prepping you twice. Praises you so much during it, "you are doing so well for me my love. So perfect, so beautiful for me." But he is also cool with the two of you getting each other off in different ways when there really should be problems with penetration.

Han: "Wait, are you serious?" Was 100% sure that that is just some porn cliche. Could come on the spot when you tell him. After he understands the issue he gets super super worried about you being hurt, so he definitely is extra careful. But in between his worries, he would totally ask you to record an audio of you saying how big his dick is.

Felix: Oh no! He is so worried about hurting you. After the first "failed" attempt he would prefer to have sex without penetration. it would just make him more comfortable and would ease his mind a lot. Should you try again he would ask you to be on top so you can control the speed and angle that he is entering you in. "It's okay love, go slow. We have all the time you need."

Seungmin: Another cocky motherfucker. Teases you about it every time you have sex. "Are you sure you're trying hard enough? Does my spoiled darling really believe that it's that easy to take my dick?" Lots of aftercare afterward. Praising you and massaging your body all over. Making sure that he didn't push too much or made you uncomfortable.

Jeongin: With big dick comes big responsibility. And he has no idea what to do with it. But is very willing to learn. So he googles, gets scared about hurting you, and masters the art of fingering. And becomes like really fucking good, no need for his dick. But after some time he still wants to try, so he is preparing you with his amazing fingers, and then goes really slow on you. "Are you okay? Do you want me to go slower?"

[russellsppttemplates]

We don't fit together (Lando Norris)

Your lifestyle is so different to Lando's that maybe everyone else is right

Note: english is not my first language. I'm not sure how I feel about this, it's like a love hate relationship with it to be completely honest... I hope it's still enjoyable to read! Update: there's a part 2 here !

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions reader's insecurities about herself and about her relationship with Lando, alcohol consumption

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

Lando facetimes and he's going to a club wherever he is

"Hello, baby!", Lando greeted with a bug smile when you picked up his video call.

"Hey love, congrats on your podium!", you smiled back, now able to congratulate him face to face even if through a screen, "Don't you look handsome, hm?", you bit your lip once he set the phone and clasped his bracelets on his wrist.

The outfit was simple but he made it look so good. He was wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt and a backwards black cap was covering his curls. Had he been right in front of you, you would have already laced your arms around his neck and littered little kisses along the tanned skin.

"Thank you, baby", he blushed slightly, "Max and Kelly are also going to the club where Martin is playing tonight", he smiled, "it's really good and it's supposed to have the craziest nights out in town, so we're going to check it out - I miss you loads, can't wait to go back home", he mused.

"Me too, but I'm glad you're having a good time out there! I'm not going to say I wish I was there because it doesn't look like my scene, but I can't wait to have you with me, love", you giggled.

"That's true, I don't think it would be very enjoyable for you", Lando agreed, "we're leaving in the morning, which will be night time for you, so I'll text you updates and then when I arrive we can have an early dinner in that restaurant you really like near my place and then you could spend the night. How does that sound?", he suggested.

"Sounds good to me", you smiled at the prospect. Time couldn't go by faster.

"I have to go, baby - Max and Kelly are already downstairs waiting for me! I love you and I can't wait to kiss your gorgeous face", he winked.

"Go enjoy yourself, Lan, you deserve it! Give my congratulations to Max and send Kelly a hug from me. I love you!", you blew him a kiss before he ended the call.

Work commitments and some family situations had kept you from going to the race weekend. It was a common thing to happen but it still left you missing Lando like crazy, counting down the hours until he was on your arms again.

You finished cooking your dinner, ate it and then headed to the living room, ready to unwind and start your bedtime routine, getting a selfie from Kelly with Max and Lando in it too, the club lights illuminating then enough to tell them apart.

When you woke up, like promised, Lando had sent you a text saying he had boarded the jet and everything was on schedule. Opening the text, you saw that a few hours before he had also sent you a video.

It was less than a minute, but you could see Martin and Lando at the DJ table, happily interacting with the crowd before mixing some music up and dancing along, "I love you, baby!", Lando said into the phone before he ended the video.

You did your morning workout, showered and while you were having breakfast, you scrolled through your social media, seeing some edits from the race and a couple of videos from the club Lando, amongst other drivers, partied in.

The first one was a different angle from the one you had been sent, someone on the dance floor recording it and sending it to a fan page.

They usually didn't say much other than stating facts about the video, where it was taken, who was in it and who had sent it. This one, however, seemed to spark up the conversation as a lot of people had opinions about it.

He just looks so good 🥵 I'd never be able to leave his side if I was with him!

He always has the best night out spots

He just looks so happy when he's doing it, it's great he has friends who support him in it outside of racing

Scrolling down, a gossip page post popped up. Unlike the other videos, this one was in a controlled environment and it seemed to be from someone on the VIP area. You could see Lando and Martin talking to a group of people before the girl flipped the camera, speaking into her phone as subtitles showed "I can't believe this, it's Lando Norris! Fp you think we should go up to him? I bet he's here alone as usual", the blonde girl said as she swept her hair over her shoulder. She looked stunning, hair curled to perfection and make-up done in such a complementing way it showed skills you knew you didn't have yourself, "I've seen Max and Kelly, and Carlos was just at the bar I think", another girl with short black hair said.

"You know what I mean, he's never here with what's her face", she giggled tipsily.

Dating Lando meant that you were exposed to these type of interactions from people online on a daily basis, more frequently whenever he posted you or you joined him for the race weekend. On the comments, some people alerted the page admin and the girl who sent the video about how offensive it was and how they didn't have the right to talk about you like that, but it didn't seem to do much as other people left their opinion.

He'd be so much better without her, did you see the article where someone at the club said he left with another girl? She's done for...

It wouldn't surprise me tbh, there's only so much it can work before you realise you don't have similar interests and things are not making you happy

Lando would be so good with someone who is in the public eye, can you imagine all the content we would get?

Shaking it off of your body, you closed the app and locked your phone, taking a deep breath as your mind started filling with all sorts of doubts.

At the start, noise from the media was easy to reason with, but lately it was all you could think about. Every week with every interaction Lando had with another woman, they would suggest he was in a relationship despite knowing you were dating eachother. You didn't understand why, but they had even taken the extra step of having someone comment on it and give their opinion on it, as if there was an opinion to give on who he dated and didn't date.

Getting up, your put some music on your headphones and started tidying the house. You couldn't sort your thoughts out, so might as well deal with the mess on your apartment.

"I missed you so much", Lando said once you opened the door, his arms instantly wrapping around your body and walking you backwards, closing the door with his foot, "hello, my love", he said, nipping a few kisses on your neck before he looked up, finally kissing your lips after having spent so long away from you.

"Hello, Lan", you cupped his face, kissing his lips again as his hands roamed along your waist and back, "I'm so glad you're back home", you smiled.

"Me too, especially when I'm greeted like this", he smirked, looking you up and down. In the last two years, you still hadn't gotten fully used to the way he would look at you.

His heart swelled with pride because you were his, all for him and no one else, "I love this colour on you", he kissed your exposed clavicle, "as much as I'd love to continue this, we have reservations to get to", he smiled before licking the spot he just kissed, "let's go, gorgeous", he encouraged, making you get your coat and bag and put on your shoes, ready to go.

.

Lando got VIP entrances to a fairly new club, and since Max was in town, too, you decided to join them on a night out. Despite the opinions everyone on the internet seemed to have, you did enjoy going out, just not every week or even every month. Shutting down your laptop after sending the last e-mail, you went to shower and start getting ready.

Making sure the towell was secure on your head and the robe was soaking up all the water remnants from your skin, you walked up to your wardrobe, running your fingers through the options you had for tonight. Settling in an outfit you felt both comfortable and beautiful in, you were quick to dry yourself and change, grabbing a simple black bag out of your closet and then heading to the bathroom for hair and make-up. You clipped your loose waves away from your face once they were dry while you applied some foundation to even out your skin tone, hiding the dark circles that came with the little sleep you'd gotten that week, bronzing, highlighting and contouring what needed, doing your brows and applying some mascara to your lashes. You weren't too fussed about makeup, choosing to stay on the simpler side of things, not bothering with the little moles and pimples that still showed through as you'd end up with your face resembling a pancake instead.

Checking if you were on time, you grabbed your watch and bracelets and clasped them to your wrist before clasping your necklace on your neck and putting simple hoop earrings, appreciating your final look in the mirror.

Not too much, not too little, but you didn't look like the girls your boyfriend was rumoured to be dating. The article came from a magazine where they had analysed everyone they thought would suit Lando and his lifestyle, and even though you tried yo ignore it, Lando was the first to come to your place and tell you, in person, that he had nothing to do with those girls and most of them he didn't even knew personally anyway, spending the rest of the night in your bed reminding how much he loved you and only you.

Lando was coming to pick you up soon, so you headed to the living room to wait for him. A knock on the door announced his presence, "I'm here to pick up the most beautiful woman in the whole wide world - my girlfriend", he charmed before taking a good look at you, "you're stunning, baby, breath taking", he gasped.

"C'mon, let's go", you urged, your cheeks blushing at the attention he was giving you, "Baby girl, a little twirl for me first", he smirked, as you did it, "we're both one good looking couple, aren't we?", he added, kissing your cheek as you played with the thin chain around his neck, "you look great, handsome, so great", you kissed his throat before closing the door behind you.

As you walked inside the club with Lando, who laced your hand in his as soon as he saw the crowded place, you took it all in.

It would be a lie to say that your senses hadn't been invaded all at once when you stepped into the VIP area of the club, different kinds of substances in the air and some perfume notes invading your nose, lights flashing your eyes as the loud music rang in your ears and drummed on your feet.

Lando carefully guided you through the people - the less crowded zone helping your movements -, always keeping you close as he looked for Max and Martin.

"Hey! You finally made it!", Max said as he greeted you, "Y/N, fancy sering you here! You look amazing as always", he complimented your black pants and emerald green one shoulder top outfit.

"Hi, I'm Martin, have we met before?", he asked after he pulled you for a half hug, "I don't think so, no, I'm Y/N", you smiled at his kindness and welcoming demeanour.

"You weren't joking when you said you were going to bring special company tonight", the dutch DJ nudged Lando with his elbow before fistbumping his hand.

"My special lady only goes out when the music is really good, so you should feel honoured, mate", Lando tsked, kissing the side of your head and smiling down at you. He was so happy you were there with him.

"The bar is over there, c'mon! Let's go and get something", Max suggested, leading the way with Martin right behind him as Lando's hands squeezed your waist again as he guided you to the bar, occasionally nodding to acquaintances you two bumped into.

Getting yourself a drink and Lando grabbing something non-alcoholic for him, "I'm driving us both home tonight, I don't want to do anything irresponsible", he reasoned as the four of you engaged in conversation about the set Lando and Martin would be doing. You had always been a kept to yourself type of person, not really letting people in until you knew for sure what their intentions were, but having Lando and Max there gave you enough ease to chat with Martin too while you waited for them to go up to the booth.

Granted this wasn't your usual choice of plans, you had been out enough times to know what it entailed and what to expect, a lot of people you didn't know coming up to greet your boyfriend, some seeming closer friendships to him that others.

"Are you okay, baby? We'll have to go up in a bit, do you want to stay here or go up there?", he questioned, "I need to go to the bathroom, I won't be long hopefully, but I can meet you up there when I come back - do you think that will be okay?", you wondered, "yes, of course! Just wave at me or Max if anyone gives you any trouble, beautiful", he kissed you, "I love you", he mumbled against your lips, squeezing your hips softly before Martin pulled on his arm.

On your way to the bathroom, you accidentally touched the railing on the stairs when you were set your cup down on the designated area, the liquid on it making your squirm a little as you held out your hand like you had touched poison. For all you knew, it could be something like that.

There were two girls waiting to use one of the stalls, prompting you to gently slot yourself in front of them, "sorry, but do you mind if go first just now? I just need to wash my hand and then I'll be back to the line", you asked politely as they nodded, the first one going to the stall that freed up and making room for you as the other girl stepped out. Her face was familiar as you took a glance in the mirror, and from the smile she gave you through the mirror, you assumed she probably recognised you too.

Washing your hands again when you came out of the stall, you walked to the bar and got yourself a bottle of water, noticing your boyfriend already pressing and tapping the buttons on the mixing table as everyone danced and many captured the moment on their phones while you waited. The booth looked tight and, truthfully, quite exposed, so you decided to stay where you had been previously, still able to enjoy yourself and dance while you watched Lando and Martin.

Max must've thought the same as he spotted you a few minutes later, twirling you around before he set his drink on the high table.

"Ruby!", Max yelled as the girl from the bathroom walked up to him and gave him a hug followed by another girl you assumed was her friend, introducing her to Max before turning to you.

"You're Y/N, right?", she asked, noticing your surprised expression, "sorry, I didn't mean to be so blunt - I'm Ruby, this is my friend Katie", she introduced, "we bumped into you in the bathroom, and it looked like you knew who I was", she clarified, still noticing apprehension from you, "I know Lando - we're acquaintances, I guess", she said.

"I'm so sorry, your face was familiar but I didn't know where from", you apoligised, "I kept going over in my head but I couldn't pinpoint where I knew you from", you gulped.

Up close and in the club environment, you were now sure of why her face was so familiar. She was one of the girls the gossip magazine page mentioned. She was gorgeous and from the way people greeted her, she seemed to attend many parties and nights out at that club.

"It's okay - Lando has told me about you, by the way", she smiled before her friend pitched in, "it's so nice to finally see you here, it's a good thing you came here to see him. I didn't think it would suit you, but it does look like you're having a good time", Katie offered before sipping from her drink.

"Yes, it's quite fun actually, Martin and Lando are a good duo I'd say", you smiled, pushing the backhanded compliment to the back of your mind for now.

"Do you want something to drink, Y/N? I can get it for you!", Max offered and you shook your head no, thanking him for his offer but politely declining as you saw him walk to the bar with Ruby.

"How has your night been, Y/N?", she tried to start up a conversation and appear put together even though it was clear she had drank over her limit, "I never see you here with Lando - he usually hangs out with us when he isn't pretending to be a world famous DJ", she giggled, "so are you enjoying it? I know it's not really your scene".

"It's not my usual, no, but I enjoy a night out every now and again", you remained polite, "He's really happy when he does it and he gets to relax a little and forget his troubles for a bit, it's a good thing".

"He's really funny, yes, and charming too", she hiccuped, "I'm sure people come here for a good night out anyway, but I just know that most of these people here", she pointed to the people dancing, "are here for him because they know he enjoys a good party and they do too - I guess they're hoping their similar interests will cross paths", she smiled.

She was really trying to get to you, and much to your disappointment in yourself, she was successfully doing it.

"That's how he is wired, you know? Parties after parties, living it up with all the luxury he has access to, and at such a young age, he has everything on his fingertips, anyone even! It's just a matter of him choosing what he really wants", she added, straightening herself against the table when Ruby walked back with Max.

"What were you two chatting about?", Ruby asked as she set the drinks on the table, Max doing the same with his.

"I was just telling Y/N how it usually is around here, but tonight they've upped their game because Lando is playing, look at him!", Katie pointed at your boyfriend before she started dancing around.

"He's really fun at these functions", Ruby offered, "looks like it is something he enjoys doing", she said in an earnest tone, and for a few seconds, you wanted to believe she wasn't digging at you like her friend was and was just stating a fact.

Lando had a big smile on his face. His skin was glowing both from his tan and the sheen of the sweat from how warm it was up there, occasionally holding Martin's hand when he hugged him from behind and rested his hand on his sternum. All troubles were put to a halt when he enjoyed his time off with friends doing things he loved.

Once the set was over and the speakers played what you assumed was some random playlist for the moment, Lando and Martin came back to join you at the table, "did you enjoy it, Y/N?", Martin asked.

"I did, it was very good!", you smiled, feeling Lando's hands on your waist before his mouth whispered on your ear, "Hi, baby" and kissed your neck.

"Did you stay here for the whole set?", he wondered, "yes, it looked a little cramped up in there so I stayed here with Max, then Ruby and Katie joined us for a bit", you nodded with your eyes as Katie seemed to notice your eyes on here, waving back at you and Lando.

"Oh, Ruby - she's nice, I met her girlfriend the last time I was here - so that's her friend?", he mused turning fully around to face you.

"Should be, we didn't really talk much", you shrugged your shoulders.

"Did you really enjoy it, Y/N? You can say no and we'll be out of here of you don't want to stay", Lando offered, "I myself am getting quite tired actually", he said as he rested his hand on top of his stomach.

"I did, you did really well up there, and you looked really handsome", you smirked, twirling a curly lock that fell on his forehead.

It didn't take long before people started leaving, the night already mostly done with after Lando danced with you for a bit, noticing you seemed to also have spent most of your battery and wete in deep need of going back home. Bidding goodbye to everyone, you and Lando made your way to his car as he drove you back to his apartment where you had planned to spend the night.

Taking your heels off and putting on your slippers, you waited for Lando to lock the door and join you in the living room, thumbs fiddling with eachother.

Noticing your behaviour, Lando knocked on the door and approached you gently, "You alright, baby? You've been quiet since before we left the club. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better? Is your tummy upset? Or is it your head", he listed the possible causes of your discomfort.

He was however missing the point. It seemed you both missed it until now. For you at least anyway, he still didn't notice it.

Better late than never.

"I'm not judging your choices, it's not my place and definitely not on this... but... do you think we work?", you quesioned, your lips trembling slightly as all emotions seemed to come back to the front. How different you were, how his interests weren't similar to yours, how his happiness was something you were getting in the way of.

"What do you mean if we work?", Lando asked, genuinely not understanding your question.

"We're so different, Lando. Your lifestyle has nothing similar to mine, and I'm not even talking about money - that's a pretty obvious one and something not most humans can do anyway -, I'm talking about being the soul of the party, always ready to go on to the next night out and plan everything surrounding it. I don't do nightlife like you do, I barely do it at all. And that's okay for me as it is okay for you with what you do", you clarified.

"What are you saying, Y/N?", he inquired, a new tone of defensiveness in his voice.

"I'm saying we don't fit together like that", you let the words out, your heart shattering as each syllable came out.

"Y/N, that doesn't mean anything", Lando began, "sure, there are different interests that we don't have in common and that we don't share, but that doesn't make it not work between us! Why would it?", he argued, "it sounds to me like you're calling our relationship out because I like to go out and you don't and I don't agree with it".

"Lando, it hurts, it's painful", you stated, tears falling from your eyes at your admission.

It caught him off guard and his brain shifted somewhere else. To the promise he made you and the promise he made himself. He would never make you hurt and he would never be the cause of your pain.

"Y/N, baby, we can talk about this better when we've gathered our thoughts", he tried even though any suggestion he could make would potentially increase your pain. And he couldn't bear to do that.

"No one would ever see you and see me and say that we were good together, it just took us longer to see what they have noticed so long ago - so much so that they think you deserve someone else", you murmured.

"But I don't need anyone else's opinion when I have you", he mused softly, wanting to take your hand in his but you still fiddled with your thumbs before wiping your cheeks.

"Y/N, I promise that whatever is going on in your head is not the truth - your mins is telling you awful lies. I love you so much and I don't think like that", he tried to reason, "That's not what we are".

"I want to go home", you gulped, "I'm going to get an Uber", you announced, looking at a broken Lando.

"Can I drive you there, please?", he asked, himself feeling like prolonging the argument would only lead to worse but needing to make sure you felt he wouldn't give up, "I'd feel better being in charge of the car taking you home than anyone else at this time", he reasoned.

"You won't ask me anything else? Can we do it in silence?", you asked. The words had a bitter taste on your mouth like they didn't belong there. Chatting with Lando was one of your favourite things in the world, hearing his voice and his giggles, those were the best sounds ever known to man.

"Okay, if that's how you want it", Lando assured, grabbing his keys while you put your shoes back on along with your coat.

The drive to your apartment was agonisingly silent. Lando wanted to ask you where this left your relationship, you wanted to ask him if what he said was true.

"We're here", Lando announced, stopping the car and getting out, waiting for you to get out and meet him by the driver's seat door, "I- Y/N, is this goodbye?", he worked himself up to ask, "because I don't want that, we can talk about his and sort it out, please, this is what we do, love", he pleaded.

"Can we talk about it another day? I can't think straight tonight, and I don't want to say things that will hurt you because of that", you suggested.

"Sure", Lando sighed, "whenever you're ready. I love you, Y/N", he looked into your eyes, refraining from kissing your forehead even though that was all he wanted to do.

"Thank you, for this and for bringing me home, Lan, I love you", you looked back into his eyes.

He was hurt, too, and the last three words you said seemed to have brought anger to the mix as well. There was a grey hue and the sparkle was lost despite the moon glistening.

"Have a good night, baby, I love you more than words can say, and I will fight for you and for us, even if I'm the only one in the battlefield, I'll fight for both of us", he assured.

Part 2

[muwapsturniolo]

✯FreshLove for the Fit✯

pt1

Summary: Y/N decides to DM Chris after receiving threats and things start to escalate between the two.

Warnings: NSFW content, swearing, mentions of jerking off, titties are mentioned, dildos, masturbation.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Y/N was dying of laughter.

Two days ago, one of her favorite content creators decided to go on a spam spree and like all of her posts. She was confused, to say the least, then she became flattered.

Now here she is, full-on cackling as she reads the hate comments she's receiving.

12-year-old girls' calling her all types of names and sending death threats, all because Chris Sturniolo was most likely jerking off to her?

It's hilarious.

She starts laughing even harder when she realizes Chris unfollowed her and unliked all of her posts.

She decides to mess with him a little bit and sends a DM on Instagram

Y/I/N

yo, your fans are cray asf. you need to tell them to leave me tf alone.

Chris's heart dropped when he saw the notification. Y/N was DM'ing him? He hesitantly clicks on the notification and his mouth runs dry when he sees what she said.

He felt like shit.

He isn't dumb, he saw what some of the fans were saying to her online. He thought it was crazy they were sending death threats to her because he was horny and dumb. He decides to respond back.

Christophersturniolo

i feel like shit for the stuff they are saying to and about you. it's not fair at all and I'm sorry.

Y/I/N

LMAO, im playing with you. ion care about these little ass girls. they mad at me because you were horny and jerked your shit to me. shit is funny.

Chris can't help but sigh, and laugh in relief. He really didn't want Y/N to be mad at him.

Christophersturniolo

fuck you had me scared. I'm glad you're handling this well though.

Y/I/N

lmao, i can handle myself very well thank you

Chris finds himself being bold behind a screen.

Christophersturniolo

i like the way you handle yourself.

Y/N smiles and turns onto her stomach, kicking her feet as if she's a schoolgirl texting her crush.

Y/I/N

so i take it you like my content?

She knows he likes it, but she wants to see him admit it. Y/N was a bit cocky, she knows she's pretty as fuck, has a nice body, and that her content is one of the best.

She just likes hearing people say it.

Christophersturniolo

love it actually

Y/I/N

tell me what you love about it.

Christophersturniolo

i love that you wear my brand as your getting off. the way you tweak your nipples through the shirts as you shove the dildo into yourself, chasing an orgasm. i love the way your moans are soft yet so loud at the same time. Don't get me started on your thighs, id love to be in between them all day.

Both of them are staring at their phones, bodies shaking as they take deep breaths. this conversation took a turn none of them were expecting.

Chris can't believe he's talking to a CamGirl who could actually expose this whole conversation.

Y/N can't believe she's even talking to Chris. Hell, she barely has wrapped her head around the fact he enjoys her content.

Christophersturniolo

what would you say if i wanted you to call me

Y/I/N

i would tell you to check my stories tab for prices.

Not even five minutes later, Y/N gets a cash app notification for $200 with the message

"FT me and wear FreshLove."

There's a phone number attached and Y/N is shocked. Her FT prices are only $130 but he sent $200.

She copies the number before pasting it into the Facetime log and pressing the call button.

It rings three times before Chris picks up.

"They look good," both of them think to themselves.

Chris is wearing a pink hoodie that makes Y/N go feral on the inside. Pink is one of her many favorite colors and to see him looking so good laid out in it, she's clenching her legs. It doesn't help that his camera angle is low. She wonders if that's what he would like while his dick is in her throat.

Y/N is in fact wearing FreshLove just like Chris asked (it was more so a demand but that's not the point), and he's trying to contain himself. It was obvious the pink shirt may be a size too small considering it was hugging her chest tightly, allowing her pierced nipples to peak through. His mind is running wild as he imagines fucking her while she's decked out in his brand.

"Hi,"

Chris is shocked when he hears the tone of her voice. He doesn't know what he was expecting, but he didn't expect something so soft and dainty. No wonder her moans sound the way they do.

"Hey..." Chris responds.

"What did you want to call for?" for some reason, Chris is too shy to admit the real reason he wanted to call. How do you tell a girl you only wanted to Facetime, in hopes she fucks herself on her pink dildo so he can jerk off.

"I don't know."

Y/N tilts her head to the side as she looks at him, "I think you know you're just too scared to say it." Her words are taunting,

Chris doesn't like it.

"Not scared to admit anything. I just figured you wouldn't like me telling you to go ahead and grab that pink dildo and fuck yourself for me. I was raised to be a gentleman after all." Chris smirks seeing Y/N get shy. Although her skin is brown, he can tell there's a faint reddish tint to them.

He keeps going, "Don't act all shy, like you don't post yourself online doing the same thing. After all that is how I found you."

Y/N likes being degraded. It's one of the many kinks she has.

"But I won't have you do that, I want to get to know you first."

Y/N is shocked. usually, when she does these calls, the guys automatically demand that she strip and start playing with herself. Although this whole interaction will be transactional, it's a breath of fresh air for her.

The call continues, both of them laughing and talking for more than an hour. The conversations jump from topic to topic. One minute they are talking about music (Y/N was shocked when Chris hadn't heard of Jorja Smith), favorite foods, and movies.

Suddenly Y/N asks a question that's been on her mind, " Why did you send $200 when the price was $130?"

"Because I wanted to" he answers so quick and nonchalantly, it surprises Y/N.

"But you didn't have to, especially if we didn't do anything sexual." When Y/N looks back at her phone, she sees a smirk made its way across Chris's face.

"I have a proposition for you."

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

i actually hate this so much but i did want to put out a second chapter 😭 let me know if yall like it or what you want to happen. im very open to suggestions!!!

[pierregazly]

to live for the hope of it all (part 2) ꨄ charles leclerc smau

charles leclerc x fem!reader / mick schumacher x fem!reader

pic credits: pinterest

link to part 1 | link to part 3

all the love on part 1 was so sweet i just had to get started on part 2 as soon as possible. originally this was only going to be a charles x reader but i like drama and i like mick sooo... it also may seem obvious about what's gonna happen but i have no self control and this is prob gonna be a multi-part xoxo

mercedesamgf1

tagged georgerussell63 and lewishamilton

liked by georgerussell63, carmenmmundt, lewishamilton, and 2,683,222 others

mercedesamgf1 no one tell toto why we needed both his drivers for individual photoshoots... it had absolutely nothing to do with their hands... nothing at all

view all 6,782 comments

username ur telling me yourusername takes over and all of a sudden we're getting this kind of content??? stay with us forever y/n pls

lewishamilton i thought you were taking pictures of my tattoos...

mercedesamgf1 i see tattoos, do you not, sir lewis? lewishamilton please stop calling me sir lewis every time you acknowledge me

mickschumacher im telling toto because i wasn't included in the photoshoot

mercedesamgf1 next post is an admin loves mick post i promise 🙏

mickschumacher

liked by yourusername, roscoelovescoco, mercedesamgf1 and 785,450 others

mickschumacher special thanks to yourusername for always getting my best angles

view all 7,656 comments

yourusername we've discussed this. you don't have bad angles.

username mick is so golden retriever boyfriend-coded, i ship him and y/n so hard

username hoping you get a real seat in 2024, even if it's not for mercedes 🙏

roscoelovescoco missing's ya mick's

liked by yourusername

yourusername

tagged mercedesamgf1

liked by arthur_leclerc, pierregasly, mickschumacher and 360,420 others

view all 3,455 comments

yourusername oh monza my heart and soul... honoured to be spending a gp from the other side of things for once

arthur_leclerc red always fit you better... broke my heart with this post y/n 💔 yourusername mercedes spoils me too much to give them up

username did anyone realize charles and y/n had unfollowed each other??

username im so sad... i really thought they'd get together by monza username we all delulu around here

mickschumacher knew it was gonna be more fun having you hang around the garage with me

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, arthur_leclerc, yourusername and 1,340,592 others

charles_leclerc monza is special thanks to you. thank you all for coming to milan today, you are the best.

view all 9,455 comments

username 🇮🇹❤️

username mother in the likes??? they still dont follow each other omf

yourusername race your heart out charlie

liked by charles_leclerc and 5,665 others

username omg omg omg

username mother is mothering pls get back together (even platonically pls)

f1wagsofficial

liked by username, username, username and 95,691 others

f1wagsofficial rumour has it charles_leclerc and yourusername were seen talking earlier today in the paddock... apparently charles sought her out and one of my dm's said they swore they heard the ferrari driver apologizing profusely... guess that means things are on the mend?

username im sure whatever the fight was about isn't worth tossing out a 22 yr friendship anyways lol

username none of us have any right commenting on this lol

username does this mean y/n and mick ARENT gonna be a thing??? cuz girlypop looked so happy every time she was with him...

username they were also totally snuggling up to each other in some of those photos ppl were posting on twitter like...

yourusername has posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher, pierregasly, and 2,698 others

taglist

@needtokeepfeelingsincheck @sassyheroneckgiant @sillyfreakfanparty @leclercdream @allywthsr @bladestark @adoxra

(please feel free to reach out if you'd like to be tagged for any/all of my works. i apologize if the tag didn't work, some usernames it wasn't working for!)

[cordeliawhohung]

i was wondering if i might be able to put in a request, if possible? simon riley mafia/guard dog vibes? i can absolutely expand with more ideas on that too if you’d like but just overall those vibes are amazing and your mafia works are immaculate ♡ ♡ ♡

sorry this took forever work was killing me lmao. but vibes are perfect! gives me a bit more freedom in writing. hope you enjoy (and thanks for getting me to write more mafia!au stuff lmfao) (:

mafia!141 masterlist

cw: violence, simon beats the fuck outta someone, crude comments, slight in limbo spoilers/foreshadowing but only if you squint? terrible cliches but oh well

It wasn't your first time seeing the glint of a knife in dark light, but it was your first time having a blade brandished at you in a threat.

Really, this was all your fault. Innocent intentions of wanting to bring your boyfriend some takeout from work was what got you caught in that mess, and had you been better at following instructions you would have been inside. Instead, you botched the directions to the VIP section the bouncer up front had given you, leading you into a trap straight out of a horror movie.

You had hardly gotten the chance to round the corner before this man, some wanna-be mugger, slapped your to-go box out of your hand. Still warm and fresh steak, along with a ridiculous amount of chips, flopped out of the container and onto the ground just as you felt your back collide with the wall next to you. Brick wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing to have shoved against your spine, but it certainly beat the wicked curve of the knife that was used to threaten you.

Everything in you urged you to run away, to scream, to fight, to do something, and yet all you could do was stand there like a deer in headlights. The only thing you could focus on was the man's eyes, and how he glared at you so sharply you were certain he could kill you with his gaze alone. He pointed the knife closer to you with his other hand outstretched, waiting for it to be filled.

"Are you fucking deaf?" the man snarled. "I told you to hand over your shit."

Those were the first words that fully registered in your brain, and you couldn't get your voice to cooperate. Your hands raised in an attempt to put some more distance between you and your assailant, yet that seemed to do nothing but only aggravate him further.

"Do you think I'm fucking around? I'll kill you and take it off your damn body if that's what you want," he urged further.

"I don't... I don't have anything."

Those were the first words you were able to stutter out, and you hated that it was the truth. There was nothing on you worth taking; no cash or card, not even any expensive jewelry. Worst of all, you didn't feel scared. A terrible numbness settled over you as your eyes stayed locked onto the blade that threatened to embed itself into your body, and all you could think about was that you hoped it didn't hurt when you died.

"You bitch, don't fucking lie to me. I don't have time to-"

That wretched man never got the chance to finish his words before a metal clinking cut him off, followed quickly by a crunch. The pure silence that followed was then interrupted by a piercing, guttural scream, and it was only then that your mind was able to make sense of the events that took place in front of you.

Simon, your big, beautiful bastard of a boyfriend, found you. How, you weren't quite sure, but you were thankful nonetheless. Most of what took place happened too fast for your brain to fully comprehend it, but you were able to figure out that the knife was no longer in the mans hands, and in fact, his hand no long seemed fit to hold anything at all. Several of his fingers twisted inhumanly, sitting at awkward angles that you knew no fingers could naturally position themselves. He gripped his wrist with his uninjured hand as if he could choke off the pain, but all he could do was sniffle and grovel.

"Watch your choice of words when you're talkin' to her, yeah?" Simon warned.

His huge frame slipped behind the man as he grabbed a hold of the back of his neck where he pushed him to the ground. His knees collided with the cement ground with a sound so sickening you could nearly feel the pain he felt. Even then, Simon didn't let the mugger off easy. His hand slipped into the mans short hair where he yanked his head back, forcing him to look up at you.

"Apologize," Simon demanded.

For a moment, the man couldn't get any words out. It was as if your positions had switched too violently for him to get his brain to work properly, but after a not-so-gentle nudge from Simon, his thoughts seemed to sort themselves. He sniffled as pained tears welled in his eyes, and you hated yourself for almost feeling bad for him.

"I'm sorry," the man sputtered out.

Despite the pain in his voice, it wasn't enough for Simon.

"Sorry for what?" he urged, grip in his hair only growing more forceful.

"Sorry for... for hurting you, I'm sorry," he winced.

"Yeah, I'm sure you are," Simon grumbled.

With a final shove, the man fell forward onto his good hand, nearly missing the now ruined steak and chips that was supposed to be Simon's dinner that night.

"C'mon, sweetheart," Simon urged, bringing your attention away from the crumpled mess of a man in front of you. "Let's clean up."

You didn't start crying until you realized Simon had been hurt. With clothes darker than night itself, his blood had blended all too well into his shirt, obscuring the cut he had gotten on his side. The only thing that had calmed you down was him bringing you into a private bathroom and letting you sit on the counter as he cleaned himself up. Seeing him hurt wasn't something you ever wanted to witness. Really, you never thought a man like Simon Riley could get hurt. Yet seeing the minor cut he had gotten compared to the major wound you would have endured was enough to quell your worries and halt your tears.

"How did you know where I was?" you asked.

Your legs didn't quite reach the floor as the counter was higher than most average bathrooms. You swung your feet as you watched Simon clean his cut with careful eyes. It wasn't deep, thank goodness, though it took him more gauze than imagined to stop the blood flow.

"One of the guys called up saying you were headed through the VIP entrance, and I came down to meet you. When I realized you weren't there, I knew somethin' was wrong. Besides, the cunt's demands weren't quiet," he explained.

Any other time, you would have been flustered being in such a situation with Simon. Behind closed doors in a bathroom of a club together would have already been nerve wracking enough, and the fact he had shredded his shirt was cause for you to be more abashed. But in that moment, you couldn't help but be eternally grateful he had been there, even if he had shattered a man's hand over it.

"I see why John has you hired as a bouncer," you admitted humorously. "I've never seen anyone... dispatch another person like that."

Simon's dark eyes flickered up to you as he finished bandaging his wound, and he moved to the sink to quickly clean his hands of the blood. Once he was clean, he moved in front of you where he stood between your legs, though not at all sexually. His hands came to rest against your side where he gave you a gentle and reassuring squeeze.

"I'd do anythin' for you," he said.

You wanted to explode into monologue. Wanted to tell him that he shouldn't be so willing to do things for you, even if he was capable of it. There were a million reasons why you didn't deserve him, why he shouldn't try and protect someone already damned, yet you couldn't get yourself to speak them.

Noting your silence, Simon pressed a caring kiss against your forehead before pulling away and snatching his ruined shirt off the counter.

"C'mon," Simon urged as he put the soiled clothing on.

Intrigued, you hopped off the counter. "Where are we going."

"To get dinner," he replied. "Bastard ruined my meal, and your night. Figured we could make somthin' back at my place."

The smallest of smiles graced your lips as Simon straightened himself out in the mirror, and when he looked at you again, he nearly smiled, too. You quickly wiped at your eyes as you silently prayed they weren't too swollen, and then with some sort of bravery you didn't know you had, you reached for the sleeve of his shirt with a quiet chuckle.

"I'd like that."

[adoresol]

♥︎ 𓂃 GOOD GIRL — l. anton

1.1k *smut ⚠︎ (dom!anton & fem!reader — oral: blowjob, deep throating/throat fucking, light dumbification, praise).

YOU KNEW ANTON WAS BUSY, watching as he strummed the strings of his cello. you're very well aware of how hardworking your pretty boyfriend was and you always admire him in moments like these but god, there was nothing more that you wanted other than for him to put it down and fuck you.

you were currently laying on his bed, your eyes never leaving his body. thoughts swarmed in your head, growing needier as time passed. you couldn't help but sigh at the lack of attention you were receiving. you were hoping for him to drop the goddamn cello and just come to you, but he wouldn't. so you sighed and sighed and sighed...

“is something wrong?” anton asked, not being able to bear you sighing within every minute that passed. he couldn't focus with you like this, if only he knew.. but he didn't even look to face you, his fingers strumming the strings and his head tilted to the angle of the instrument.

“yes. the fact that your dick isn't in my mouth right now.” beating around the bush was not your forte, obviously.

the second that those words left your mouth, he froze and you could tell that he wouldn't go back to the cello after your comment. his cheeks immediately flushed, gulping before finally making eye contact with you. “um... i'll make it up to you later, i have to practice a bit more.” you sulked at his words, pouting at his response. as much as you love him, moments like this made you wish he had less control. “have you done your homework?” you shook your head at his words, not wanting to deal with anything else but the feeling of his lips on yours.

he placed the cello down and grabbed your laptop, handing it to you and helping you set it up on his desk. “work on this for now, my love.” he said, placing a kiss onto your forehead before going back to practicing. and you tried, you really did try but there was no use. you stared at the stupid homework assignment with no thoughts at all, turning back to look at anton with a frown on your lips. “i don't get it.”

anton never hesitates to get up and help you out, all he wants is his pretty girl to do well. meanwhile, you can't help but let your hand travel to his thigh as he's explaining the prompt to you. your fingers caressing his thigh, reaching to the zipper of his jeans. “baby.. not right now.” he bit his lip, looking down at you. one thing about anton is that he could only restrain himself for so long, and you knew it wasn't going to take much to convince him.

“please? just real quick i swear, just wanna taste you.” you whined, tugging on his pants. anton really did want to resist but the way you looked at him was too much, he gave in eventually. helping him take off his jeans, you smile up at him as to which his face flushes at your actions. the way you smile so innocently up at him as you begin to take his half hard cock into your mouth.

you licked at the precum that had gathered around his tip, nice to know you weren't the only one who was feeling some kind of way. your hands made up for what you couldn't fit in your mouth and the sounds of his quiet moans encouraged you even more. his hand reached down to hold yours as you sucked him off.

“you couldn't wait just a bit? wanted me to help out just for u to be on your knees for me without even listening?” he'd moan as you pushed him further down your throat, his grip tightening against the arm of the chair. “all you care abt is this, hm? can't even focus on something else for iust a few more minutes.” as harsh as he sounded, his voice was dripping with honey. his tone sounded so utterly sweet that you couldn't help but whine at his words. you knew that anton was secretly talking down on you for being so sex driven but you didn't care when he sounded so gentle.

his moans would be so soft and pretty too, they're quiet but so comforting, soft pants leaving his lips that turned into little whimpers. anton never cared about the size of his cock, but whenever he saw how you struggled to fit him inside of your mouth, confidence grew. his hand wrapped around the back of your neck, he didn't realize it until you gagged a bit, but he began gently fucking the back of your throat. anton bit down on his bottom lip, his hair was messily splayed over his eyes. his posture on the chair was slouched, he felt lax with his cock in your mouth. breathing out through his nose, trying to control the sounds that came out from his mouth.

he'd hum as his hips move up into your mouth, feeling his cock hit the back of your throat over and over again. the quiet noises of you gagging on his length made him moan louder, throwing his head back at the feeling. anton knew that you loved it when he'd fuck your throat, but he wasn't the type to be rough with you. so he found himself stuffing you with his cock very slowly. he would keep his cock down your throat for a few seconds before moving you up and down on his length over and over again.

as anton grew more confident in your ability to take him completely, he gently held your jaw as a means for him to fuck your mouth easier. holding your mouth open, his thumb would caress your jaw and he'd coo at your noises. “shh, you got this, baby. you wanted this, right?” looking down to see tears well up in your eyes with your mouth wide open full with his length.

“you look so pretty like this.” anton mumbled, his pants growing heavier as he felt himself close to his release. the words that left his lips made you feel on cloud nine, his praises mixed in with hints of degradation made your panties grow wet with desperation. you took what he gave you so, so well. anton couldn't help but notice the way your thighs rubbed against each other, almost as if you were trying to give yourself some kind of satisfaction. the way he treats you so gently even in times like these made you whimper around his cock, he didn't need to fuck your face to feel good, just the feeling of your throat enclosing around his length was enough for him to shoot ropes of his cum down your throat.

anton slowly removed himself from your mouth, noticing how bits of cum dropped down from the side of your mouth. he smiled softly, looking at you with warmth in his eyes. he reached down to kiss your forehead while caressing your cheek with his thumb. “good girl.”

dedicated to @lunicho because you loved this dom!anton thought and you encourage me the most <3

[woso-dreamzzz]

Creep

Arsenal Women x Teen!Reader

Summary: The man on your train is a creep

You hated taking the tube.

It was smelly and packed and made weird noises that freaked you out. You would get dirty looks all the time because you had to squeeze on with your kit bag and your schoolwork.

But, in particular, you hated this one specific man.

He looked to be more than twice your age, one of those middle-aged finance guys in a fancy suit and enough money to buy three houses but common sense enough to not drive through London during rush hour.

He got on at the stop after you in the mornings and the one just before you in the evenings.

With the strength of the crowd, he always ended up pressed against you during the morning rush, always a little too close for comfort.

The train car rocked violently as it moved out from the station and you immediately felt hands on your hips.

"Sorry 'bout that," He said, leaning down into your personal space," Just lost my balance there for a second."

But his hands stayed firm on your waist.

You tried to laugh it off. "Oh...er, yeah, no problem..." You were frozen in place, unable to really do anything in the packed train with this strange man pressed up against you.

You were lucky that your stop was next and you wiggled out of his grip to exit.

The feeling of his hands on your hips stayed with you as you walked from the station to the training ground. By the time training was over, you had forgotten all about it.

But, in the coming days, he clearly hadn't.

It was like the floodgates had opened. He always ended up pressed close against you, always touching you in some way and you could do nothing about it.

You thought about catching the bus to training but it would just take longer so you just stayed with the train. You thought about getting a later train but the last time you did that, you were a few minutes off being late and doing that more often just felt like tempting fate.

You could cope with it though. You only saw him twice a day (once if you missed the first train back home) and you could easily wedge yourself further away into other people if you really tried.

It was only when he started to show up to your matches that you got the feeling that something could go wrong.

"Fancy seeing you here." He leaned over the railing with one of those smirks that you think the girls with daddy issues at your school would be attracted to.

You didn't quite know how to respond to that so you just awkwardly laughed like you did the first day on the train. "Ha, yeah."

"Mind taking a picture with me? My mates didn't quite believe me when I told them that the fit girl from Arsenal gets my train."

His wording was strange and crept on the edges of creepy but it was an innocent enough request so you took his phone and leaned up against the railing, trying to get a good angle.

He leaned down, his chin resting on your shoulder and goose bumps of fear crept up your neck when you felt his breath there.

"Hey."

You jerked away instinctively as a familiar voice approached. Lia, usually smiling, held a slight grimace on her face as she walked closer. Her eyes flicked to the man then back to you, plucking the phone from your hand.

"Why don't we make it the three of us?"

She didn't let the man respond, easily slotting in next to you and resting her arm around your shoulders so he couldn't put his face so close.

It worked for the most part but, as you plastered a fake smile on your face, you caught him angling his face down to sniff at your hair.

Lia gave him his phone back, pulling you away with her.

"Did you know him?" Kim asked as she joined the two of you, having been only moments away from intervening herself.

You glanced back at him, yelping slightly when you noticed him still staring. "He gets on my train."

Kim looked back too, eyes narrowed. "Come on, I'll drop you home today. You need to be careful on public transport."

"I know."

True to her word, Kim dropped you home. In fact, she continued to drop you home every day after practice so you only had to deal with the man in the mornings.

But, it was on the one day that Kim was sick, that it all came to a head.

You pulled your hood over your head as you began your trek to the train station, huffing in frustration at every step due to the ache in your legs.

"Hey! Wait up!" Leah came barrelling over, swinging one arm over your shoulder and almost causing you to crash to the floor. "Where'd you think you're going?"

"Home?"

"Without me?"

You gave her a look. "Don't you own a car?"

"It's getting serviced. Thought that I would see how you do it."

You rolled your eyes, checking the time on your phone. "We're gonna miss the first train because of you," You told her," But if we get to the station in the next ten minutes, we'll be able to catch the next one."

"Excellent."

You were right, of course. You arrived at the station just as the second train (thankfully much less packed than the first) pulled up. You slipped through the doors, talking aimlessly with Leah as you sat in the first seat you could find.

"Fancy seeing you here."

A shiver ran up your spine.

You hadn't even realised that you sat next to him until he spoke.

Leah narrowed her eyes.

"Oh, er, yeah. Just heading home."

"I haven't seen you in the evenings for a while now."

"I've been getting a lift back."

He nodded along, seemingly uncaring towards the fact that you were clearly leaning away from him. If there hadn't been an armrest in the way, you were sure that you'd have already tumbled into Leah's lap.

"The Arsenal training grounds aren't too far from where I work. We could take a cab back together sometime."

You shivered again, body going rigid as he flashed his too-white smile at you and, almost in slow motion, moved to rest his hand on your thigh.

Leah snatched his wrist out of the air, squeezing tightly until her knuckles were white. "You need to leave her alone," She said in warning, her voice low and dangerous like it was on the pitch," I don't want to see you anywhere near her. In fact, you're never going to see her again."

The train pulled into a station that definitely wasn't yours but Leah still yanked you up and got off with you, snapping a picture of the man on her phone as she went.

"How long has that been going on?" She demanded, not even waiting to get off the platform. "He seemed pretty familiar with you."

Shame flooded your body and you couldn't meet her eyes. "A few months. He crashed into me during rush hour."

Leah sighed, long and drawn out like she was trying to control herself. "Why didn't you tell someone?"

"What use would that do? Men are creeps sometimes. There's nothing I can do about it."

In an instant, you were pulled into her, arms wrapped tight around your waist as you were pressed into her neck.

"I'm so sorry, kiddo," She said," I'm so, so sorry that you've had to put up with that for so long."

"It's fine," You replied dismissively," It hardly matters anyway."

"It does matter. Don't pretend that it doesn't. I heard from Lia that some other creep was at the game against Bristol. Is it the same guy?"

You nodded.

Leah sighed again, finally letting you pull away but still keeping your hand tight in hers. "I'm going to send that picture to the girls and Jonas, alright? We're gonna have him banned from our matches."

"Thank you," You whispered.

"And we'll work out a schedule on who will take you to and from practice, so he can't corner you on the train again."

"Thank you," You said again.

Leah grinned, bringing you even closer than before. "Now that that's sorted out...Do you know how to get home from here? I'm not too sure where we are."

[queers-gambit]

Distraction

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: at a rare family dinner, you have news for your husband.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 5.9k+

note: i didn't want to like him but the pirate baby war criminal does something to me.

warnings: cursing, spoilers, Aemond being a little shit, basically the dinner scene with Aemond's wife. canon-level incest (?) and dialogue. not edited!! ❗️major season one, episode eight spoilers

"How's this?" You asked Amira, your handmaiden, showing her the sixth dress you've tried on. You observed all angles of yourself in the mirror, smoothing over the material of your dress in worry.

"I like it better," she nodded, admiring your figure. "And you can't even tell you're hiding - "

"Mira," you warned, sighing sharply.

"When are you going to tell him, my Lady?" She demanded, helping you into your shoes as you fixed jewelry around your neck, wrist, ears, and fingers. "It's killing me!" She whined lowly.

"Soon, Mira," you rolled your eyes.

"You've been saying that for a month, and now you're starting to show!" She snipped, hands on her hips. "He's not stupid - "

"He's been distracted as of late," your eyes rolled. "He is not paying attention to me right now, I've time to think."

"I beg to differ, but sure, let's be ignorant."

"Mira," you sighed, or more like whined. Your head tilted back and you sighed sadly, pinning her with an exasperated look.

"I'm being honest, Princess, and I'm telling you the Prince absolutely adores you. How he's not noticed yet is beyond me."

You sheepishly admitted, "I might've... Lied a wee bit."

"And said what?"

"I was bloated from bad fish and my cycle," you shrugged. "He doesn't know much different, and he's been coming to bed in exhaustion that he doesn't much stay awake to notice my growing figure."

"Well," she sighed, hands slapping her thighs as she shrugged with defeat, "this dress hides everything better, it fits nice. It's a winner for tonight's dinner... Just - "

"Don't eat too much," You ended for her, smirking. "I know... I know."

"You should just tell him, Princess. Rid us of this game, please."

"I will..."

"He has the right to know," she whispered.

"He will - just once I figure out what to do."

"What do you - "

"Once I figure out how to be okay with this," you sighed sadly. "Look... I just... Aemond doesn't seemed thrilled by the idea of being a father but his mother insisted on lineage. He only did his duty," you shrugged, fiddling with your fingers as emotion caught in your throat, "and I'm nervous to tell him, because... T-Then it's over."

"What's over?" Amira asked softly.

"The marriage," you sniffled, "the bliss, the partnership. I just become a cast-aside-milk-machine."

"You know the Prince would never - "

"Truthfully, Mira, we don't know," you cut her off sadly, "because nobody can predict what Aemond will say or do next."

"He wants to be a father," Mira nodded, but both of you froze when a new voice asked from the doorway,

"Who wants to be a father?"

Recognizing your husband's voice, Mira was swift to answer when you froze in fear, "My husband's brother. He's trying for a baby with his wife and I was telling the Princess how excited he is because he really wants to be a father."

"Hmm," Aemond considered a moment, stepping into the room in-full and letting the door close softly behind him. "Well, speaking of my dear wife, are you almost ready, love? We've dinner arrangements."

His eye raked over your form and when he settled on your face, he smirked with mischief. Gulping from the flush of heat his gaze brought, you glanced at Mira before affirming, "I'm ready, my Prince Ameond."

His brow furrowed as Mira showed herself out, Ameond asking, "Since when do you address me so formally, my love?"

"Oh, well, just - you know, we're going to have dinner with your whole family, Ameond, I just wanted to remember formalities and, you know, my place..."

"Your place," he reaffirmed as he reached for you, "is at my side, sweet girl. You worry for nought, my family adores you."

You sighed lightly, "As if you gave them a choice but only to accept me."

His smirked broadened, "You're right - I gave them none. Come, you're worrying yourself silly. It's nothing, my sweet girl, Father called for this dinner to celebrate us being together."

"Might you promise me something, then?"

Aemond sighed, "You know I cannot break promises to you."

"Exactly," you smirked lightly, feeling his arms tighten around your waist to keep you pressed to his front. You worried he'd feel the small curve of your belly, but distracted him by asking, "Do not antagonize anyone while your King Father is present, my love, please. He's old, he's sick, let us grant his wish of having a meal together - in harmony, in peace..."

He sighed again, letting his eye shoot over your face as you pouted lightly. "All right, my love," he agreed, "I will behave myself while Father is present."

"Thank you," you whispered, thinking that was the end of it. Your Lord husband smiled and took your hand to tangle his fingers with yours, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

"Shall we, my love?" He muttered softly.

"Hmm," you hummed, kissing him again. "All right, yeah, let us go. Shouldn't keep the family waiting."

He smirked, "Come."

Aemond liked keeping you close, moving from your shared rooms and down the halls to reach the private dining room the Royal Family was to take their meal in tonight. Upon entering, you discovered the fires ablaze and torches set to provide ample lighting, making you smile as the room was the perfect temperature for your pregnant, flushed-flesh.

As custom dictates, you bowed to the Queen Mother first; greeting the Hand of the King after, then with similar bows, greeted the crowned heir to the Iron Throne, your birth mother, Princess Rhaenyra. You gaze shifted to your mother's husband, the Prince Daemon, your step-father, and offered him a polite greeting. Truth of it was that you were always cautious of Daemon, and the way he looked at you was hard to decipher; never knowing if he even liked you or not. You skin was toned down from your father's, the late Lord Laenor Velaryon, but your hair was as bright as your mother and father's, and all who shared your blood.

Your marriage to Aemond was a bid for peace after your younger brother, Jace, took the young Aemond's eye about 6-7 years prior. To placate tension, your hand was offered only 2 years ago, and it turned out to be a surprising love-match. You and Aemond grew closer after the years apart, and though you tried to understand all sides of the situation, you knew the truth behind the loss of his eye, and only tried to offer comfort for your husband on day's he became overwhelmingly insecure.

You loved your family, but you loved the man you shared your life with now and did your best to keep the peace.

You greeted your brothers and cousins before looking back at your mother, who grinned in excitement.

Your mother breathed your name and stood from her seat, making you match her excitement as you let go of Aemond's hand to hug her tightly. "Mother," you gasped into the tight embrace. "Oh, how you glow! Pregnancy has always agreed with you. How are you feeling?"

"I'm well, my sweet love," Rhaenyra nodded, pulling away to gently pet a stray hair from your forehead. "Your hair's grown so much in these years."

"Do you like it?"

"You look beautiful, my love, I adore it," she promised, squeezing your hand. "How are you fairing?" She glanced over your shoulder to your husband - who was greeting his own siblings.

"I am doing well, Mother, you do not need worry," you assured. "Aemond is good and kind to me, I promise. I have known only love and warmth from him, and I feel I should both apologize to you for protesting the arrangement, and then thank you for it..." She smiled fondly, caressing your jaw and chin. "It has worked out better than I ever could imagine."

"I am delighted to hear it," your mother spoke with so much love and kindness that a light sheen of tears coated your eyes. "You look well, love," she sighed lightly, petting over your long hair. "You know I miss you daily, my sweet girl. It is not the same without you."

"I miss you, too," you swore. "More than words..."

She sighed, "Well, go on, we should find our seats..."

"We'll talk again soon," you assured softly, giving her hands another squeeze before breaking apart. You nodded to her husband, "Prince Daemon."

"Princess," he nodded back, watching you move around the table to snag Aemond's hand in yours, and together, the two of you made it to your seats at the head of the table. Aemond pulled your chair out and let you sit before taking his seat between you and his grandsire, leaving you between him and his sister, the Princess Helaena.

"Good evening," Otto muttered to you, nodding with a soft smile. "You look beautiful, Princess."

"Thank you, my Lord," you smiled. "You look well yourself. And you, Princess," you directed at Helaena, "that dress befits you."

"Thank you, my Lady," she smiled, "you're glowing... In this light," she spoke with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

"Love?" Aemond muttered, a servant holding a goblet. "Would you like wine tonight?"

"Oh, please," You accepted, Aemond taking the goblet to pass along to you. "Thank you, sweetheart."

"Hm," he acknowledged with a small smirk, raising his own to his lips as he observed the whole of the table and slowly turned in his chair to crowd into you. "Say the word, love, and we'll leave..."

"We're fine," You assured in a soft whisper, bowing your head to speak in his ear. "You are on edge, my Prince."

You could almost physically feel his nerves.

"With reason," he sighed, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck. "Aegon wants a word, my love. I'll be a moment."

"Go on," you sighed, smiling with a nod as he stood from his seat; leaving you with a parting kiss on the top of your head. The table was still being dressed for dinner and the Targaryen-Hightower families all sat around as they all waited for the King to arrive. Aemond and Aegon stood for their conversation at the corner of the table, leaving Helaena to rise to her knees in her chair; giggling with you over whatever riddles plagued her mind in that moment. Otto smiled as he watched you two for a moment.

From your place, you could feel the tension from Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra, knowing all of their feud from your limited years at court prior to tonight. When the doors opened and a procession of Kings Guard was seen, you all pushed from your wooden chairs to stand for the King's arrival; your husband reaching for your waist to stand together as a united front. Aemond always took your union very seriously as your birth appearance only left room for rumors to fester about your brother's lineage, and Aemond took immense pride in calling you wife.

You, who had the color of your father's skin, and the hair color of your mother; you, who was a highly desired prize to the courts; you, who was desired over others, and looked at only as a trophy - but being that you wed a man who had known you your whole life, he treated you as much more. You were proud of your marriage, and stood tall at his side.

The King was carried in a chair that would double as his seat for the evening meal, requiring a set of guards to carry him up to the table before being lowered.

When everyone was allowed to reclaim their seat, Aemond held a hand to the servant boy who meant to push your chair in; smirking at you as he took the liberty himself. Say what you wanted about the lad, but his mother raised him right...

Much could not be said for his brother, but Aegon was not your worry.

Aemond took his seat after, letting his hand drift to your thigh in invitation; smirking again when both your hands tangled with his. You noticed both of your brothers now sat with their betrothed, who were Daemon's daughters with your Aunt Laena - who passed seemingly only days before your father. Both tragedies left your mother, Rhaenyra, and uncle (?) Daemon available to marry, and you remember standing on your ancestral home of Dragonstone, watching the Old Valyrian customs come to life as they wed.

A beautiful ceremony in truth.

Around the table, all members of the Targaryen-Velaryon-Hightower family claimed their seats as King Viserys Targaryen, First of His Name, was set down at the large gap separating your mother and step-mother...

How odd to think about the relations around this table.

As the guards retreated, Viserys croaked, "How good it is... To see you all tonight... Together."

You smiled at Aemond and let your head fall into the crook of his neck when he glanced at you; his arm readjusting to better hold your hand, both attentively listening to the King's words, but not before his chin caressed the top of your head when he returned your brief show of affection.

The tension at the table was nearly palpable, leaving Alicent to ask her husband, "Prayer before we begin?"

"Yes," Viserys agreed.

Everyone took proper prayer form, you glancing at your seemingly confused mother for a moment before to your lap as Alicent lead the prayer: "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith men the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the Gods give him rest."

You ignored the under-breath huffy responses to Queen Alicent wishing for rest upon a man slain in court today, nodding when the prayer was over and lifting your head to reclaim your husband's hand in your own. Viserys continued, "This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our Houses." You nudged Aemond gently when you saw him staring at Jace with unnerve. "A toast to the young Princes and their betrothed!"

"Hear, hear," Daemon mocked as he took up his goblet, your husband spying your smirk of amusement.

And though he lowered his voice so his father did not hear, Aegon's words reached your own ears as he muttered to your brother, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

Jace let his goblet set to the table forcefully, catching your eyes as you subtly shook your head at him. He ignored Prince Aegon's antagonizing words.

"Let us toast, as well, Prince Lucerys... The future Lord of the Tides."

"Hear, hear," his future sister-cousin toasted with a soft smirk.

"You'll be great," his cousin-fiancé assured.

"Love," you reprimanded softly, catching his stare again. He only sighed at you as Aegon was turning to Jace again.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume? As least, in principle? Where to put your cock and all that?"

"Let it be, cousin."

"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed," Jace defended, keeping his voice low so the adults would not hear him.

"Hmm," Aegon sighed, nodding once before sitting forward in his seat. You sighed to yourself, feeling Aemond's hand stroking over the meat of your inner thigh and leaning into his arm slightly.

But all came to a stand-still when Viserys grunted and stood uneasily to his feet, leaning forward on the table to hold himself up. His words were spoken between huffs of breath, "It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table." He looked around with meaning, "The faces most dear to me in all the world... Yet grown so distant from each other... In the years past."

Aemond blinked once, then twice, and lowered his gaze to the table before looking down at you. You offered a silent smile and pet over his hand. But both of your smiles dropped when you looked up again, watching Viserys reach for the latch that kept the golden facemask in place; realizing his intention. You were used to Aemond's injury and scar, but the King's was something else entirely, and with your pregnancy stomach - you were unsure how you would react seeing it.

Aemond's hand squeezed yours when the King dropped his mask and gave a front-row-viewing to his decaying face. Aegon and Helaena refused to look, their eyes set to the table as Viserys looked around; Rhaenyra seeing the extent of his illness, and how his children could not look at him for longer than a few seconds.

Viserys continued, "My own face... Is no longer a handsome one," he snorted lightly at his own joke, "if indeed it ever was. But tonight... I wish you to see me... As I am." Otto watched the King directly, boldly, and your eyes could only handle small glances, focusing on the way Aemond was distracting you with his fingers running up and down your thigh in your lap. "Not just a King," Viserys continued through haggard breathing, "But your Father!" He turned his eye to Daemon, spitting, "Your brother!" His head turned to Alicent, "Your husband." And then he looked to the middle of the table, "Your grandsire. Who may not, it seems... Walk for much longer among you." He slammed the gold mask to punctuate his point, all eyes staring at him now. "Let us no longer hold ill feelings in our hearts. The crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside your grievances." You felt emotion swell in your chest as Aemond's hand paused to squeeze your hand. "If not for the sake of the crown... Then for the sake of this old man! Who loves you all so dearly!"

He panted in exhaustion as he fell back into his seat with Alicent's aid; fixing the mask back over the decaying half of his face. Suddenly, your mother, Rhaenyra, was shooting up from her seat with her goblet in hand; making you sit up straighter almost subconsciously. Aemond fought off his knowing smirk as he watched your mother hold her goblet with intention.

After a moment, the crowned Princess spoke, "I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen." When Alicent had helped secure the gold mask, she looked up in curiosity. "I love my father," she continued to Alicent. "But I must admit that no one has stood... More loyally by his side than his good wife." After a meaningful look, your mother spoke to the rest of the table, "She has tended to him with... Unfailing devotion, love, and honor. And for that, she has my gratitude... And my apology."

When your mother's eyes caught your own as she sat down, you nodded with your own toast, "To the Queen Mother."

The others echoed your words and took their obligatory sip of wine, watching Alicent accept your mother's words. "Your graciousness move me deeply, Princess." Daemon sat forward at the Queen's words, your mother watching her as your own husband seemingly stilled to watch the tense exchange. "We are both mothers... And we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow." Your mother accepted her words, in turn; and the Queen Alicent Hightower stood to her feet, and hoisted her cup high, "I raise my cup to you and to your House." After a moment, she ended, "You will make a fine Queen."

You smirked gently as your mother fought off her emotion, raising your cup again to call, "To Princess Rhaenyra, our future Queen!"

The rest of the table followed suit, and with King Viserys, took their gulps of wine. Aemond smirked and pecked your temple, earning your attention for you to grin at him - feeling as if this was a perfect moment to announce to your husband and family that you were pregnant. But his attention drifted when his brother drained his goblet, cleared his throat, and stood from his seat.

He sighed and kept close watch as you silently turned your attention as well. Aemond knew better than anyone how protective you were of your brothers, and though you shared different traits in appearance, they were still your blood, and you, and your gorgeous green dragon, Kasta, would defend them until your death day.

You could not make out the words Aegon was muttering to your cousin, but you knew the lad liked to instigate; his farce of pouring himself a new goblet of wine only getting him so far.

Whatever was said upset the Prince enough for his hands to bang on the table as he stood; Aegon's smirk assuring you he meant for this reaction. "Jace," you heard Rhaena try to intercede.

But as Aegon made for his seat, your husband stood to his feet, and stared Jace down as if in challenge to say anything. The table all stilled, and even Viserys, who had witnessed your husband ferocity, waited with held breath. "My love," you whispered, reaching for Aemond's sleeve to give a simple tug. "You promised," you reminded softly, begging him to sit down again. But when his fist formed, you stood from your seat to press into his side, whispering urgently, "Aemond, please, do not do this, I am begging you."

His arm slithered around you to keep you at his side as Jace only pounded his fist into Aegon's shoulder in a show of good faith; noting the way Aemond went rigid even under your soothing touch.

Jace toasted with his own goblet, "To Prince Aegon and Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years," Jace glanced from Luke to you and Aemond, "but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And it is obvious the love, devotion, and respect you show my sister - and for that, I give both gratitude and thanks." He paused to look at Aegon, who looked sour at the show of responsibility and educated-tongue. "And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your families good health, dear uncles. Or, should I say, dear uncle, and brother," he smiled at you after, seeing you return it with all-teeth.

But when Aemond's hand tightened on your waist in anger, you whispered again with urgency, "Please, let it go."

Behind you, Jace had gripped Aegon's shoulder, giving a tight squeeze, before another friendly fist pound - making the Prince reply tightly, "To you as well."

"A moment," you called, making Aemond pause in his descent to his chair, and prayed you could cause reason to smile again, "because I'd like to toast my good and loving husband." He offered you a solemn smile, but cocked his head in confusion. "And... I'd like to take this moment, before our families, to share the good news..."

"Love," Aemond whispered in shock, Alicent perking up as Otto did. "You speak what I think you do?"

You nodded, glancing at the table, but telling Aemond, "I'm pregnant. We're going to have a baby, the Seven's heard us at last, my Prince."

There was a round of cheers and applause as Aemond breathed in relief and pulled you in, letting both his hands caress your cheeks as he kissed you tenderly. "Truly?" He muttered, making tears brim your waterline.

"Yes," you confirmed, feeling one of his hands drop to press against you gently swelling womb. "Just a bit over three months in."

He laughed and pulled you in for a proper hug, the table sending their congratulations to you both - and you foolishly thought you were successful in distracting Aemond enough. You took your seats again, him fully turned to keep his arms around you, as the family all muttered in good tidings.

But above them, you could hear Helaena mutter, "Beware the beast beneath the boards."

You didn't get to question it because you were leaning over to give Otto's hand a squeeze - thanking him for his good tidings. Your mother caught your eye after, giving you a bright and happy grin; silently toasting to you, making you return the motion and take a sip.

Thinking you had ended the toasts for the evening, imagine the surprise when Helaena, a usually quiet girl, stood from her seat as if it burned her. Aemond and you both paused to look up, listening as she spoke, "I would like to toast Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. 'Tisn't so bad," she assured sincerely. "Mostly, he just ignores you..." Then, a thought came to her, "Except sometimes when he's drunk."

You honestly didn't mean to, but you laughed a little - eyes widening as you look at Aemond with your hand over your mouth. But he chuckled, too; and dare you say it, but you swore Otto let out a singular chuckle to his granddaughter's words. In fact, you knew he did, when Helaena found her seat again and he nodded at her, muttering, "Good."

"Let us have some music," Viserys spoke, and a moment later, the live musicians struck a tune. Curiosity burned in your gut when Jace stood from his seat, muttered to his fiancé, and then stepped around the table to approach Helaena with an offered hand.

"Jace," You warned your brother when he halted beside you; watching as Aegon could not tear his sights away from his wife as she accepted, and let the Prince lead her to a small clearing for a dance.

Aegon turned and shared a hardened look with his brother. Aemond let his chair push back some to give him a proper view of his surroundings, taking your hand, and encouraging you closer. You sighed with mild worry, muttering, "Won't you eat something, my love? Please?"

He hummed, tearing his gaze back to you. "No, sweet girl, you go on. Eating for two now, aren't you?"

You sighed lightly, "W-Was this alright?"

"What?"

"Telling you here?" You wondered, genuine fear flooding your chest.

Aemond sighed and leaned forward to crowd into you again, despite the head of the table posing with natural privacy. "My love... This is," he sighed lightly and took your hands in his, meeting your gaze, "The best news you could've given me - in any way. But in front of our families? That is special, indeed," he smirked some, leaning in to press a linger kiss to your forehead. "Worry not, sweet wife, for this is joyous news. I am just..."

"Uneasy?" You filled in with a frown. "I know this family likes to push buttons but please do not say or do anything - not with the King here, my love."

"I know," he assured softly, "I made you a promise, I will not break it."

You nodded in response, letting his lips meet yours for a slow kiss, his nose nuzzling against yours before he leaned back in his chair - nodding at your plate to silently encourage you to take another bite.

Some minutes passed and after laughing with Otto over something silly, you caught your husband's gaze again. You offered him a small look before leaning in, making him sit up and bow his head to hear your words, "You're staring again."

He chuckled, "Perhaps I am enjoying the view."

"Oh, of me eating, is it?"

"Of my beautiful wife, yes," he smirked, leaning back again, and leaving you to get sucked back into whatever was being spoken of now. You did not notice how the King gazed fondly at you all, taking note of his gathered family, until he was wincing and moaning in pain.

Slowing your chewing, you watched silently as Alicent called for the guards, and Viserys was then being pulled away, and carried away from the table. You stood with respect as he was dismissed, Aemond's hands smoothing over your waist to guide you back into your seat - a moment before he did the same.

Aemond sat at an angle, not eating, and leaving place at the table before him for the servants to raise and set a roasted pig before him. You eyed it wearily, knowing of the torment your brothers and Aegon put Aemond through for being dragonless in his youth, and tried not to think further of it. You reached to lay your hand on Aemond's knee in comfort, just placing your next bite to your mouth as Luke's snickering amusement enraged Aemond.

"Don't," you gasped after you swallowed when you noted the way his entire body turned to regard your younger brother; sighing in defeat when Aemond's fist rapidly pounded into the table's top as he climbed to his feet and swiftly picked up his goblet.

"Final tribute," Aemond proposed, ignoring the way you sighed and remained still in your seat. When the hall quieted and turned their attention to him, Aemond continued, "To the health of my nephews: Jace," he looked to the boy still-standing, "Luke," his sights turned to your brother that slashed his eye from its socket, "and Joffrey. Each of them handsome," your eyes met Alicent's, as if anticipating his words, "wise..." He paused, the tension brewing to a new height.

"Love, please," you whispered, watching him nod silently, and then finish,

"Strong."

"Aemond," his mother tried, but was ignored.

"Come!" Aemond barked as you slowly stood to your feet out of worry; his arm extending to wrap around you and settle you on his other side - as if to protect you. "With my sweet wife, let us drain our cups to these three..." Aegon rose his goblet with enthusiasm, ever the one to hide behind his brother's brute, words, and strength, "Strong boys."

"I dare you to say that again," Jace barked.

"Why?" Aemond instigated as his head snapped to look at your brother, you sharing a look of unease with Alicent. "'Twas only a compliment." He let go of you as Jace started forward, turning instantly to meet him. "Do you not think yourself Strong?"

Luke stood in anger as Aegon met him, Jace launching his fist into Aemond's jaw - making you wince slightly upon the impact, and making you call your brother's name in protest. You felt Otto raise to his feet and pull you back from the fray, as Aegon smashed Luke's head to the table. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" Alicent raged.

Seemingly unfazed by the fist to his face, Aemond smirked at Jace before pushing the younger boy back off his feet. He sprung up with a growl - making two guards lunge forward to restrain him - as your husband turned with a broad grin and his goblet, still in hand.

Jace and Luke were both restrained as you freed yourself from Otto's grasp to reach for your husband, who sat his goblet down in order to hold onto you. "What was that? Huh? You lost your mind finally?" You demanded in disappointment, hearing your brothers still growling and grunting with effort to free themselves.

Alicent descended upon you two, demanding in a lowered tone, "Why would you say such a thing before these people!?"

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother," Aemond rounded on her, one arm still tight around your waist. "Mm," he considered, raising his voice as he let go of you to turn, "though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Jace broke free and charged forward as Daemon barked, "Wait, wait!" With a silent finger held, he stalked between the two Princes; easing Jace backwards without uttering a word. When the boy was back by his brother and both of their betrothed, your mother was demanding of them, "Go to your quarters. All of you go, now."

Daemon turned and settled his sights on Aemond, making the hair on your neck stand on end with worry as you held your husband's hand tightly - as if it would keep him at bay. Your step-father came to a halt and sighed, still staring at Aemond, and you knew that just because your husband was unhinged, didn't mean you were, and Daemon genuinely made you nervous. He was undefeated and rumor of his win in the Stepstones was told to you directly by your father, who bore witness to the Rogue Prince taking the entire beach by himself.

Daemon was not someone you were eager to cross, but your husband loved a good challenge - and by the look in both man's eye, you knew they had met their matches.

Aemond sized Daemon up for a moment before your hand tightened in his, begging quietly, "Can we go, please?"

He hummed in response and tightened his hand in yours, leading you past your mother and step-father, but pausing when Rhaenyra spoke your name. Your mother reached for you, smiling, "Congratulations, my sweet girl. You'll make a beautiful mother."

"Thank you," you whispered to her, leaning in to kiss her cheek, and whisper, "I'm so sorry."

She winked at you in return, letting Aemond take your hand again and lead you onward into the torch-lined hallway. You sighed when you pushed from the room, leading in the other direction of the guest rooms, meaning, you did not have to worry about running into your brothers.

"You're angry," he mentioned in observation after a few moments.

"No," you answered quietly, leading up to your chamber door. "Just uneasy."

"Over me?"

"Over all of this," you admitted softly, entering first and hearing him follow. When the door closed, you continued, "It pains me to feel and see the divide in the family. And I walk both lines of it..."

"'S not easy," he agreed.

"No, it's not," you sighed, pulling your jewelry off. "And now isn't the time for petty games, my love. We've a child on the way, the time for grudges has passed - though I will not tell you to let this go." You turned to look at him in the firelight. "I know the pain caused, and I know what was taken from you..." He lowered his gaze, making you slowly approach him and reach for either hand. "But I need my husband with me, and not lost to some vendetta. We're having a baby, Aemond, and I'd like for them to know their uncles."

He sighed, nodding as he wrapped his arms up your waist. "Aye... I'd want that, too. But they can't call me brother, please, my love - "

You chuckled, "I will make sure they understand. We do not have to see them often, but the times we do, I'd like for some semblance of peace and normalcy."

He nodded with understanding, "Aye. For you, my love, I can do that."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," He sighed.

"Then please - no more Strong comments," you begged quietly. "They're leaving soon, please, do not instigate this further. You do not have to see them again, but I'd like to see my siblings off."

He nodded, "Whatever you want, my sweet."

"Well, I want my brothers and husband to get along but that's not happening, is it?"

"Not likely," he teased. "But I will do my best to restrain myself."

"I only ask that you try," you agreed, pecking his lips. "Now, are you gonna run off anymore or do I have my husband for the night?"

He smirked, "You have me, my love. I am here with you."

"Good," you smirked, letting a hand snake along the back of his neck to pull him down; searing a heated kiss to his lips.

[ series masterlist ]

[nouvellevqgue]

i. oh my, never seen that color blue · ﹙ charles leclerc ﹚

summary: red is indeed his color, but what if he switched to blue?

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charles_leclerc added to their story!

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username it's all fun and game until when she posted charles doing the same thing she did yesterday

username she knows what she did to humanity when she posted this

username wait... he wore blue?

⤷ username OMG YEAH I DIDN'T REALIZE IT💀💀

username oh. rb charles is coming?

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ scuderiaferrari don't you dare

⤷ username ferrari is scared to lose him but still giving him that junk ass car is making me WHEEZING SO HARD

ˑ⭒ʚ ִtwitter ݁.٭

charles_leclerc

liked by landonorris, yourusername, pierregasly, and 948,201 more

charles_leclerc my favorite one to hold, forever to keep

view all 259,170 comments...

username oh no since when he became poetic😦

username idk but i had either bad or good feeling or nah about this

username blue charles spotted online👀👀

yourusername GUYS WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM IN BLUE???

username y/n honey look, he works in ferrari. FERRARI IS RED (but yk rb is blue)

⤷ redbullracing 👀👀

⤷ username rb admin wdym by that

username her fit is always been the best

carmenmmundt loving your fit match. so much.

lilymhe charles really hit your good angle there

⤷ yourusername i don't have a bad angle😎

⤷ lilymhe oh yeah? wait until i found your year book

carlossainz55 yourusername what did you to him until he get like this

⤷ yourusername promise to you i didn't say anything to him

danielricciardo i've never seen blue looks ever so matched with him

⤷ yourusername so all those dark blue jeans for nothing????

scuderiaferrari our romeo🌹

username he progressively getting more and more blue as i look into his page

sebastianvettel Charles, what kind of book are you reading to be this romantic?

⤷ username oh even seb ask you this because like WHAT THE HELL'S GOING ON

⤷ landonorris wait it's all came from a book he's reading?

⤷ charles_leclerc no, not really 😁

⤷ carlossainz55 you're not good with secrets, charles.

⤷ charles_leclerc i know.

yourusername

liked by brielarson, isahernaez, charles_leclerc, and 729,566 more

yourusername i swear it's blue irl

view all 62,420 comments...

username ASUEHDHEJSJJWSJSJSNSJD

username THE ROMANCE IS BACK

username it's more greenish though

⤷ yourusername but believe me, at some point it's blue. like light blue.

username once again charles with blue accent spotted: plaster

⤷ username i love the plaster tho, it suit his eye color

username WHY ARE YOU GUYS SO DAMN CUTEEE

camilamendes four pairs of pretty eyes

username literally mother and father

nicolezefanya aww you guys are so cute

ellefanning i miss you so much much much

⤷ yourusername miss you too like forever🥺

username isa liked this🥹❤️

⤷ username y/n is her closest friends, thank god they didn't lost any contact

landonorris JUST LET BE SINGLE IN PEACE PLEEEASEE

⤷ username lando is me, truly the man of the year

maxverstappen1 it's green actually, not blue

⤷ yourusername you know it's blue under the sunlight

⤷ catluvr444 yeah max just admit it

⤷ maxverstappen1 catluvr444 i can't believe you choosing to be on her side

⤷ catluvr444 sometimes a girl should make her choice 🤷‍♀️

username couple goals fr

username missing her on the paddock

⤷ username are they breaking up?

⤷ username no, she's busy on her movie project so she can't be with him

alex_albon i see max is already going to do his usual maxplaining in front of me now. help me

⤷ lilymhe omw to the rescue

⤷ username is it because of the blue ore green thing?

⤷ alex_albon apparently yes.

yourusername added to their story!

caption: gotcha