#his friends and family would bring it up every know and then

[imaginaryf1shots]

Hidden | Max Verstappen

WC: 1.5K

Max x wife!reader

Summery: May has always a private person, but is he that private that he could hide his wife of 8 years and 2 year-old son.

Warnings: none

AN: This is a little something, while I’m working on two big fics

Masterlist

Max Verstappen is many things, and when people ask you to describe him they always have a lot to say. He’s a great driver, at the top of his career, he’s aggressive, he’s sarcastic, definitely has an unhealthy relationship with his skinny jeans. He’s also incredibly private, not much is known about him that he doesn’t want to be known, how he does it is a mystery.

You both value your privacy, and any post made of you before he made it to F1 was deleted the second there was a possibility he would join. You were both young, and you knew how much hate some wags get and you didn’t want that. While Max was off racing, you were back home finishing your studies, the moment you finished high school and you were both 18 you got married. A small wedding with only family and very close friends in attendance. Some of your families were against it at first, saying you’re too young, too naive but you never listened to them. Both you and Max knew what you wanted, and there was not stopping you from getting what you wanted.

You finished Uni and when Max moved to Monaco you did too, you met some of the drivers, the ones close to Max, you met some of the team that were also close to him. And you even attended a few races, but no one paid you any attention, thinking you’re just a fan.

However the last time you made it to a race was well over a year and a half ago, you gave birth to your baby boy last winter, and after a hard delivery and a long recovery, where Max stuck by your side through it all. Your boy is almost 2 and he misses Max every time he’s away from home.

”Are you sure this is the right time?” Max asked you as you got yourself ready, Karel happily playing with his toys next to Max on the bed.

“I mean we’ve been married for 8 years now, and dating for three before that.” You point out and finish the last touches to your make-up. “We have a son and I want him to grow up seeing you do what you love to do, I don’t know when you actually want to retire, so let him see you do it before it’s too late.”

You walk over to your husband and sit in front of him with a smile.

”You’re right.” Max leans over and presses a kiss to your lips, that leaves you craving for more, Max pulls back leaving you chasing after his lips. The dutch driver laughs and lets you close the gap, your lips meeting for a bit longer, before you have to pull back or things would escalate.

“Don't forget your ring.”

“Already wearing it.”

Walking in the paddock with your son on your hip and your hand in Max’s turned a few heads for sure. It was the tack of the paddock, Max has a girlfriend and a son? There’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that the boy you’re holding is anyones’s but Max, he’s a literal mini Max, with the small red bull merch and everything.

”Oh my god! Loca.” Lando said seeing you both, your son wiggles in your arms. He loves Lando who he sees a lot when you’re all in Monaco. Lando is one of the few people who knew about you for so long and he’s seen Karel mere days after he was born. “Come to uncle, Lala.” Karel leans out of your arms and easily goes to Lando’s. “I didn’t know you guys were bringing him today.”

“We weren’t 100% sure.” Max explains and you give him a look. “Okay, I wasn't 100% sure I’d want to bring him.”

”Well, I’m for one glad that you did.” Lando said entertaining your son.

”That makes the two of us.” You say smiling, as Max pulls you closer to his side.

After Max is sure you and Karel are comfortable at RedBull, he goes off to do his round of interviews and media duties. And it's just his luck that, he's on the panel today.

And it didn't take long before he was being questioned about his family.

“Question to Max, you seem happier today, does that possibly have something to do with your ring and those that came with you today?” Max chuckles, he looks at his wedding ring. On the panel today with him, Charles who knows about his family, Lewis who has no idea, Oscar who has no idea and Pierre who has a suspicion but hasn't been confirmed by Charles.

“Eh, if you're talking about this ring, yes. My son is here for the first time, he's finally old enough to come.” Max is smiling but just because his family came means he's suddenly open with the press and will spill everything.

“You have a son?” Lewis asked confused the gossip hadn't reached Mercedes yet.

“I'm not over the ring, you're married?” Pierre asked, Oscar was looking super confused at the RedBull driver, he heard Lando talking about Max and a child and wife but he thought it was the other Max not this Max.

“Karel's here?” Charles asked, smiling.

“Yeah, I have a son, he's almost 2 and I'm married.” Max said as if he didn't Just drop the biggest news in F1 at the moment.

“You knew about it?” Pierre asked his friend feeling left out, Charles looked cheapish and shrugged.

“It was a secret mate.”

After the panel the drivers waited for Max to ask him some more questions.

“When were you married?”

“Did you get married because of the kid?”

“What's his name?”

“Why did you hide them?”

”When can we see him?”

and so on and so forth, Max knew that this would cause quite a stir in the media but he had no idea the other drivers would be interested.

”Okay calm down everyone, let the man speak.” Lando, the latest person to join the circle said. He wrapped his arm around Max’s shoulder. ”Let me answer the oblivious stuff. His name’s Karel, he was born during the winter break of last year, he’s a carbon copy of Max, and yeah, I knew about everything for a few years.”

Lando looked so smug with himself for being in the know.

”And you’re married? Never saw you wearing a ring before.”

“Yeah, got married when we were 18-“

”EIGHTEEN!!” There was a gasps and repetition to the number 18.

”Mate, that’s over 8 years ago.” Pierre said with wide eyes, he’s been Max’s teammate and he was married and he had no idea.

”Yeah, we were dating for 3 years before that, and decided to just do it.” Max explains, he was itching to get back to the garage and see his family. But he had to stand there for a few more minutes to answer all their questions, which he was comfortable with anyways.

You could see a few of the drivers shaking their heads as they dispersed from the circle in disbelief. The gossip and new information was hot, it will be all they can talk about this weekend.

You were out of his driver’s room, and standing beside Max’s car talking with a mechanic as Karel was looking at his dad’s car in fascination. It’s the car he saw every week on the TV.

“Hey.” Max greeted coming in and giving you a quick kiss, he took Karel from your arms and kisses his cheek. “How’s everything?”

”Good, Karel wants to get in the car.” You inform your husband, smiling as your son nodded his head furiously.

”Dada, car.” Karel says cutely and points at his father’s car.

”You can sit baby, don’t think you’ll see anything but you can sit.” Max says and places his child into the cockpit, RedBull cameras snap pictures and take videos.

”Future RedBull champion in the making.” You tease Max and grin, Max had this adoration look on his face. “You should get in and put him on your legs so he can see.”

Max does as you say, he hands you Karel, who you shower with kisses making him giggle and push your face away. Max gets in and you hand him Karel who he places on his lap, the child now able to see out of the car.

”Here Max.” One of the mechanics hand him the steering wheel, and Max puts it in.

”Dada, drive.” Karel says and takes a hold of the steering wheel, Max helps him turn it right and left, it’s. too heavy for him to do it alone. You take out your phone and also film this moment.

If there was ever doubt about bringing Karel, just seeing them making memories and enjoying themselves proves that it’s the right thing to do. There’s no guarantee for how long Max will stay in F1, the motorsport is forever changing and you’ve always wanted Max to make these memories with your son. And if Karel continued showing interest in cars as he does now, there’s no doubt in your mind that you’ll be back at karting tracks soon enough, and replete the cycle that you went through with Max with your son.

Max looks at you and smiles, you couldn’t help but lean over and press your lips to his, in a sweet and short kiss.

”It’s good that I can kiss you whenever now.” You comment and wink at Max before you pull back.

“Lucky me.”

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life

#max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #f1 x reader #max one shot #max imagine #max verstappen x reader #mv1 fic #mv1 imagine #mv33 #mv1 #mv #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader #f1 fic #max x wife!reader #f1 wife!reader

[sluttywoozi]

This Is Devotion | csc x f!reader

You've spent your whole life taking care of yourself. Seungcheol thinks it's time someone else took over.

Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~4.0k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: smut

Warnings: alcohol mention (they meet at a bar), daddy kink, sugar daddy vibes but he’s a bf first, fingering, praise kink, v light choking, condomless piv sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, breeding kink and impreg kink but mainly at the end, wants to wife you up fr

Reader Notes: eldest daughter, on birth control, gets carried by cheol

Seungcheol didn’t really expect to meet the love of his life at a bar on a regular Friday night, but as soon as he saw you, he knew you were something special. And as soon as he spoke to you, got to know you, he knew he wanted to learn more. 

The way you carried yourself didn’t make you seem the most receptive - you were closed off, seemingly disinterested, but when he started to back away, intending to let you enjoy your night without him as you appeared to want, you got this look in your eye like he was doing exactly the opposite of what you desired. 

So he stuck around, asked if he could buy you a drink, keeping a respectful distance between your body and his even though he felt like you were a celestial being with your own gravity pulling him in. He learned a lot about you that night - what you do for work, what you do for fun, whether you’d be open to him taking you out - but he didn’t learn what it was that made you so standoffish when he first approached you. 

That didn’t come until later, until the fourth date and the family talk. Over a dinner he spent hours preparing, you told him that you were the eldest of three children, and that you’d practically raised your younger siblings yourself. Your parents worked hard, too hard to spend much time or energy on you, so you raised yourself too. 

You took on two jobs to pay for college because most of your family’s money was spent on your younger siblings' extracurriculars, and you graduated with honors but with no one to cheer for you, to celebrate you. They were all too busy, apparently, though Seungcheol didn’t know what could possibly be more important than you reaping the reward of all the effort and stress you had put into your schooling. 

He tried to tell you that you deserved better, but you were adamant that you were used to taking care of yourself, to being alone. You said that the friends you made along the way were your new family and that they treated you better than you deserved. 

Seungcheol could have talked until he was blue in the face about just what it was he thought you deserved. 

He knew you wouldn’t hear it though, so he took it upon himself to show you instead. 

It wasn’t long after that date that he asked if he could be your boyfriend, and as soon as you said yes, he vowed to himself that as long as you kept him around, you would know what it was to be taken care of. 

He started slow. First, it was making sure your car always had gas and your oil changes were always up to date. You used to drive it almost to empty, and he knew that was bad for both your fuel pump and your stress levels, so he would pop into your work every so often to bring you your favorite little treat and grab your keys to fill it up. You always gave him your credit card and he always took it, but never once did he make use of it. 

Once you grew accustomed to that, he moved on to being your driver for girl’s night out. You would always text him while you were in the uber so he knew you were safe, but after one too many sleazy guys flirted with you and your friends, he stepped in. You had already shared locations with each other (again, for safety reasons), so when you texted him that you were gearing up to go, he told you to cancel the ride and look for his car instead. 

He drove every one of your friends home and saw them up to their door before taking you back to your apartment, lovingly removing your makeup, and getting you into pajamas. He tried to tuck you in and leave, but you caught his hand and tugged him into bed with you, snuggling up under his arm before promptly knocking out. Knowing that you felt safe enough to fall asleep with him was his favorite form of payment. 

You had one, maybe two outings a month, and Seungcheol was happy to keep those nights clear of plans so he could make sure you and all your friends got home safely. It was just a bonus that every one of those nights turned into a sleepover with you wrapped up in his arms, warm and soft against him.  

It wasn’t until a few months in that he started spending more money on you. He loved to buy you snacks and milk teas and lip gloss but he knew there were things you wanted that were simply out of your budget. He also knew you would never let him pay your rent so you could buy those things, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t buy them for you. So he would take you out shopping under the pretense of needing something new himself, keeping an eye on what your eye lingered on and making note of it in his mind. 

The first purchase was a necklace you loved so much, the sight of it made you gasp. He was getting his watch repaired and you had wandered off to look around, and when he heard that gasp he knew instantly that whatever it was, it would be yours. It took him all of two minutes to flag an employee down, ask them to package up the item you loved, and add it to his total. 

When he presented it to you, you tried to say it was too much, that you couldn’t accept such a gift. He pouted until you sighed and moved your hair out of the way, allowing him to put the necklace on you and smiling a small, pleased smile as you felt at the delicate chain and pendant. 

After that came dresses and shoes and cookware and other things you would never let yourself splurge on but you also wouldn’t want to say no to. You worried for his finances but Seungcheol was a smart spender before you, and he earned and saved enough that every gift for you barely made a dent. It was money he was happy to spend, especially when he got to see you wearing or using the things he bought you. 

You would joke and say he wasn’t just your boyfriend but your sugar daddy, and he laughed, at first. 

Then, he thought about it more, thought about how he lived to take care of you, to show you what you deserved, to make sure you were happy and healthy and safe, and he realized that maybe he was your sugar daddy, in a way. 

Hearing you call him daddy for the first time still almost sends him to an early grave, though. 

It happens when he’s balls deep inside of you. Your thighs are hitched up high on his waist and your arms are wrapped around his neck, holding him close enough he has to brace himself on his forearms and fold his knees on either side of your hips. It’s not like that’s a hardship, not when he can press his forehead to yours and breathe your air, staring into your eyes as he fucks in and out of you, your pussy perfectly formed around his aching cock. 

He loves feeling close to you like this, and the closeness is the only reason he hears it. 

“Daddy,” you sigh, in the smallest voice he’s ever heard from you. 

He stills immediately, his dick throbbing and leaking inside of you as he tries to hold off his orgasm, his heart thumping so hard in his chest, he’s fearful it’ll jump out of his ribcage and straight into yours. 

“What did you say?” He asks, because he’s sure there’s no way you called him that, independent and self-reliant as you are. 

“Nothing,” you respond much too quickly, and he wants to press further, but your voice is nervous and your face is tense, and he doesn’t want to push you if you’re not ready. 

So he keeps going, fucks you until you cum and then fills you up, dragging you into the shower after so he can rinse you clean and get you into some warm pajamas.

Seungcheol wakes before you the next day, uses the time to stare at you and think everything through. 

You’ve always had to take care of yourself, always had to fill other cups before your own, until he came along. Over the year and a half that he’s spent with you, he’s made every effort to take the load off, to tend to you in ways that you’ve never experienced before. You’ve softened up over time, gotten used to him protecting and nurturing you, and you’ve rewarded him with your trust and your love. 

It makes sense that you would call him daddy, and it makes sense that he would fucking adore it. 

So when you start to stir, he tucks you closer to him, your back aligned with his front and his hardening cock pressed into the plush of your ass. One arm is draped over your waist, his hand covering your breast, and his other arm is stretched out beneath your neck, bent at the elbow to band over your chest and hold your shoulder. You’re completely wrapped up in him, and as soon as you hum and tilt your hips back into his, he kisses up your neck and murmurs, “Let me take care of you, baby. Let daddy do the work, huh?” 

You gasp and wriggle in his hold, but he hugs you tighter and says, “That’s what you called me last night, right? I don’t mind, sweetheart.” 

“Are you sure it’s not… weird?” You whisper quietly, and he can picture the anxious expression you must be wearing. He gently sinks his teeth into your neck before responding, “It’s not weird to me, baby. You know I love taking care of you.”

You relax muscle by muscle, and by the time his hand wraps around your thigh and pulls it up and out, you’re boneless against him. “Can you hold that leg up for me, honey? I’m gonna touch you.”

“Okay, daddy,” you sigh sweetly as you take over for him, his entire body lighting up at the sound of you saying that word with such ease. 

You’re drenched when he slides his fingers between your legs, pushing aside your pajama shorts to touch you bare and groaning at the feeling of your soaking heat. His fingertips glide as he drags them from your entrance up to your clit, soft little sounds escaping you when he presses circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

He thinks this might be the wettest you’ve ever been for him, and he luxuriates in the feeling of having cracked your code, of knowing that you’ve never been more open or trusting with him before. It means he’ll have to treat you delicately, but Seungcheol is nothing if not devoted, dedicated, committed to being everything you could ever need.

He works you up just like this, with his fingertips soft on your clit and his lips gentle on your neck, mumbling little promises about how daddy will always make you feel good, always love you, always put you first. 

“I want you inside, daddy,” you cry, and he feels himself throb against you, leaking in his boxers and desiring you more than the air he breathes. 

“Cum for me first, baby, I know you can do it.”

To help you along, he slips two fingers inside of you, his thumb taking over on your clit, pressing insistently as his fingers curl, searching for the spot that always makes you gush. He finds it quickly, grinding with his fingertips as he wraps his other hand around the base of your neck, barely squeezing. A grin stretches his lips when you start to move with him, your walls clenching down on his digits as you get closer and closer to the edge. 

He knows you’re right there by the sounds escaping you, by the way your cunt is fluttering around his fingers, by the arousal seeping out with every dig into your sweet spot. It’s really just a matter of timing and luck that you break when he says, “You’re such a good girl for daddy, show me how good you are and cum.”

The whine you let out is enough to have him bucking into you, the sound so plaintive and vulnerable that he wants to wrap you up tight in his arms and never let you go. Your pussy weeps around his fingers, sucking them in deeper and squeezing in pulses, your walls gripping them strongly enough that he feels the phantom pressure around his cock. 

“So fucking perfect, so sweet and beautiful and wet for me, baby. Fuck, I love you,” Seungcheol pants into your throat, dotting the soft skin with kisses and little bites. 

“I love you. Will you fuck me now, daddy?” You try to turn your head to look at him and he breathes, “Yes, baby,” before freeing his fingers with a slick sound and sucking them into his mouth. He hums at the taste of you as he shifts away, giving you enough space to roll onto your back and kneeling between your legs when you spread them. 

He’s fucked you from behind before and he will again, but right now he wants to gaze into your eyes, watch your lips form around the word he didn’t know he’s been aching to hear. 

You’re too pretty for him to not look at you anyway, especially as he tugs one thigh up around his waist and pushes the other up to your belly. He loves getting you into position, loves the way you stare trustingly at him and let him move you, loves knowing that you believe he’ll never do anything but bring you pleasure. 

He tucks his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and pushes them down, grinning bashfully and feeling his ears heat as your eyes immediately drop to his cock. He’s insanely hard for you, flushed and leaking and desperate, and he feels himself twitch when you whimper, “Daddy, please, I need you so bad.”

“I know, sweetheart. I’ll always give you what you need,” he promises, pushing your pajama shorts to the side again and taking hold of his dick to line himself up. 

He can’t resist gliding the head of his cock through your wet folds, grinding into your clit before sliding down and starting to sink inside. A groan escapes without his permission but he doesn’t try to swallow it, wants you to know what you do to him, how you make him feel. 

Being surrounded, enveloped by you is the best sensation in the world, the grip of your wet heat dizzying and comforting and more than enough to drive him crazy, no matter how many times he’s felt you before. 

Your cunt is heaven on earth, like nothing else he’s ever experienced, and he considers it his sacred duty to make sure you never forget that. 

“Perfect fucking pussy, baby, god,” he moans, barely halfway inside of you and already feeling the flames of pleasure licking at his spine. 

You flutter around him at his words, your arms rising to wrap around his neck and draw him in close, mirroring the exact position he had you in last night.

You must realize it too because your breath hitches before you tilt your head up and gently press your lips to his, mumbling, “Daddy,” into his mouth as he finally bottoms out. It makes him twitch inside of you, makes his hips roll into yours, makes his heart feel so full, it aches. 

He almost can’t bear to leave you but he knows he’ll have to if he wants to fuck you, so with only a little reluctance, he draws back, fighting a shiver when cold air hits the wetness on his cock. 

You dig your heel into his ass and urge him forward, your eyes needy and your gasp desperate as he bucks into you and fills you again. You used to need some time to adjust to him, but you take him often enough now that he can move within you smoothly, your generous arousal easing the way even as your walls cling to him. 

The rhythm he sets is slow, measured, but he slides in deep and hooks his hips up on the way out to drag over your sweet spot, your pussy just getting wetter and wetter around him. The sounds are obscene, the slap of his hips meeting your ass and the squelch of his cock reaching the end of you loud compared to the peaceful silence of the early morning. 

Every time he gets inside of you feels like the first but is somehow better than the last, and he knows that doesn’t make sense but he’s senseless when it comes to you anyway, his logic and reasoning replaced by tenderness and infatuation. It’s even worse now that there’s this added facet of caring, of responsibility, this knowledge that you’re entrusting him with a side of you he’s sure no one has ever seen before. 

“How is it, baby?” His voice is ragged, tight and rough with lust when he speaks, but his tone is as gentle and loving as his thrusts are. 

A minute passes before you can respond and he practically watches the words form in your head, his gaze heavy on you as you put them together letter by letter. 

“So good, daddy, you make me feel… whole,” you sigh blissfully, your fingers twirling the hair at the nape of his neck and your inner muscles clenching around him. 

He can’t hold back the shiver this time, not when your response floods him with greedy affection and a covetous sense of possession, one that goes both ways. He belongs to you as much as you belong to him, and he knows you belong together just like he knows that the sky is blue and the earth is round. 

It’s frightening, almost, to think that there’s nothing on this planet that he loves more than he loves you. But it’s worth the risk, worth the vulnerability, worth the fear to get to be the one who makes you feel whole. He can’t help but hope he’ll be the only one who does for the rest of your life. 

Which is a dangerous vein of thought considering the fact that he already has a 3 carat diamond ring hidden in his study, just waiting to be slid onto your left fourth finger. 

He’s inches from disentangling himself from you to go get it, but this is neither the time nor the place. 

Instead, he leans in and ardently locks his lips with yours, breathing into you all of his passion, all of his sincerity. You kiss him back like you can taste it, adjusting your leg around his waist so you can hold him closer, his movements in and out turning into a slow, dirty grind. 

“Love you so fucking much,” he murmurs into your mouth, his mouth stretching in a grin when you mumble back to him, “Love you more, Cheollie.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, baby,” he chuckles brokenly, pleasure starting to knot low in his belly, his cock growing harder and his balls tightening as he gets closer and closer. 

“Agree to disagree,” you laugh breathlessly, tugging his hair and gasping sharply when he snakes one hand between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit. 

You squeeze down around him, your pussy molding to his cock like he was made for you, made to fill you where you’re empty, and fuck, he’s sure he was. Every part of him was built for loving you, there’s no other explanation for how flawlessly you fit in his arms, his life, his heart. 

He can tell you’re nearing the edge, your walls spasming and your eyes glazing over, and he holds off his own release even as it spools in his stomach like molten twine. Breaking before you simply isn’t an option; breaking after you is, but he knows well that any nirvana he could reach is infinitely better when he reaches it with you. 

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart? For daddy? I’ll fuck you full of my cum if you do,” he promises darkly, already envisioning himself spreading your legs and watching his seed seep out of your stretched pussy. 

“Yeah, daddy, I’m- I’m-” 

A weak cry cuts you off, your mouth stuck open as tears dampen your lashes and leak down your temples. Your cunt clamps down around him in pulses, so hot and wet and tight that it draws out his own orgasm, his heart pounding as his cock jerks and spurts cum deep inside of you, so deep he wonders if it’ll stick. You’re on birth control but he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t want to make you his wife then breed you full, get you pregnant, leave no room for doubt that he both loves you and fucks you like you deserve. 

The thought makes him hard enough to keep going, to grind into you and push his cum even deeper inside, his fingers still swirling circles around your sensitive clit. It’s not long before you’re digging your nails into his shoulders and keening for him, your thighs shaking and your back arching off the bed as you fall to pieces again. 

He slides his arm beneath your shoulders and hefts you up against him, burying his face in your neck and holding you close as he cums inside of you for the second time. This one leaves him a bit teary eyed too, thoughts and wishes and desires racing through his mind, visions of the life you could share making him swallow down a sob. 

You sense the shift in his emotions, your fingers carding through his hair and your voice soft as you tell him that you love him, that you always will, that you’ll spend all the rest of your life making sure he knows. 

Seungcheol feels like this is his job but the comfort you bring him is worth admitting that he can be just as needy as you. 

He stays tangled up with you for what feels like ages, long enough for the sweat on his back to dry and the arm underneath you to fall asleep, and when he emerges, he feels like a new man. 

A new man that still wants to lay between your thighs and watch his cum leak out of you. 

You’re not shy about it anymore, happy to let your legs fall open and drag your nails over his scalp as he rests his head on your soft inner thigh, his eyes locked on your glistening cunt. 

“Prettiest pussy in the whole wide world,” he mumbles dazedly before glancing up at your face and correcting himself, “Prettiest baby in the whole wide world.”

Minutes pass before you squirm in discomfort and he peels himself away, accepting that it’s time to get you in the bath. 

“C’mon, honey, up you go,” he says quietly, reaching for your hands and starting to pull you, his biceps tensing when you refuse to cooperate. 

“Carry me, Cheollie,” you beg rather adorably, and he doesn’t even have it in himself to roll his eyes as he leans in close enough for you to wrap your arms and legs around him before straightening up with you attached to his front. 

He hefts you up higher against his body, one arm around your back, the other under your ass, and says, “That’s daddy to you, baby,” as he lumbers to the bathroom, not so secretly pleased to be needed by you. 

AN: i didn't really ever see myself writing full blown daddy kink outside of kinktober but here we are and im not mad about it!!

inspired by discussions with my anons ily all i hope you like it

#svthub #k vanity #seungcheol fanfic #seungcheol x reader #seungcheol smut #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol imagines #scoups x reader #scoups smut #scoups imagines #scoups x you #choi seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol smut #choi seungcheol x you #choi seungcheol imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen smut #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt smut #svt fanfic #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨

[i-cant-sing]

Mmmhhh thinking about Yandere Batfam reacting to a reader who runs a very popular blog where she absolutely bashes Batman and Robins- and the batfam takes your criticism very seriously. Maybe not at first, but then Damian (the easiest to tick) got pissed off when you wrote how "he's just a kid in a cheap Halloween costume" and when Damian gets pissed off, he whines. He whines and whines and whines until Dick and Bruce finally listen to him and do something about it. That's when they find out about the extensive threads about them, criticising meticulously each and every action of theirs, how they're causing more financial harm to Gotham and allowing themselves to be idolised and causing more people to comit crimes just so that they could have their 5 seconds of fame with Batman. And ofc theirs a whole page about the Batsignal.

I mean, Damian and Tim have already found out who runs the page (though they had a little bit of a hard time sniffing u out. You were good at covering your tracks). While Damian and Tim are busy going to "have a talk with you", Bruce is at home reading your entire blog about Batfam and realising how some of your points.... kinda makes sense. So, he buys the app where you write your blogs, then has Damian bring you over to the Wayne offices, where he explains he just wanted to meet the person running the blog that generates the most readers on the app. You, just a 23 year old student who's blogging as a side hustle.

You're obviously stunned because why are you meeting Bruce Wayne and also confused because again, why are you here exactly??? Bruce just says that he likes your insights and would like to know more, and he's happy to pay you by the hour you spend talking to him and also on the blog.

He's very much determined to make Batman and Robins be good in your mind, and not that he cares much about what people think about him, it doesn't hurt to have good PR for heroes, lest people should try revolting against Justice league and only end up hurting themselves. There's only so much he could do to calm his metahuman friends.

You're again- CONFUSED, but you like money. The only thing you tell him is that you get to write whatever you want, complete creative control and that you can write about anyone you wish. Ofc, it doesn't register to Bruce that you could possibly write against his family- against his name.

So in the beginning, things are going great. Reader continues making calculated judgements and comments about Batfam and how they could possibly improve themselves, the batfam takes note and tries to do most of the things. Then you'd write something that could almost be seen as praise for "changing their old ways" and they all feel a little bit proud. They don't realise it but some members of the batfam (like damian and Dick) start craving your approval of their actions.

Perhaps something happens, maybe you don't find it fun to write about the bats anymore, so you shift your mind towards a new topic-

The Wayne's.

You research a bit, finding it a little odd at Bruve Wayne's generosity to be adopting random ass kids, a super duper clean record, no scandals or anything- it just- it doesn't feel right. No one's that clean. They have to be hiding something.

So when u can't find anything against them, you let your imagination go wild and start making conspiracy theories, kinda feel like reader goes in her gossip girl era to stir things up so that someone would come forward with something- anything.

Bruce's eyes almost bulge out as he reads the blog's headline-

"The secrets of Gotham's favourite billionaire playboy!"

Shit- did you figure out he's batman?

Nope. In fact, you covered everything but that. From theories about him adopting troubled kids for PR, to the Wayne family actually being a chauvinist cult, to conspiracies about his ties with the Rothschild, his philanthropic donations being a front for illegal activity, the Wayne Manor holding lavish nsfw parties, and even a classic "they drink virgin maiden blood!"

Bruce stood in your apartment, eyes narrowing at your sleeping form on the couch.

"Bruce? What- how did you get in?" You don't remember unlocking your door.

"What is the meaning of this?" He pulled up your article on his phone.

"Huh?" You took a closer look, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Oh. Yeah, I wrote that."

"Why?"

You shrugged. "I was bored."

"What?" Bruce could feel himself getting angry. How could you be so nonchalant about the lies you wrote?

"You know this isn't true." "I do." "Then why did you write it?" "I told you, I was bored. Besides, you told me I could write about anyone." You get up with a sigh. "I don't get why you're so worried about this. Barely anyone reads this stuff."

Bruce's brows went up. "There's a 1000 plus views on this already!"

"What?" your eyes twinkled. "A thousand already? Its not even been 24 hours since I posted. Wow, people really do enjoy conspiracy-" you shut up when you saw his glare. "Right, sorry."

"Take it down, now." Bruce orders, brow twitching when you just walk past him and into the kitchen, pouring yourself some coffee. "Why?" you asks after taking a sip.

He glares at you. "Because it isnt true-"

"Then give me something that is."

Bruce stared at you. Is this... is this your way of wanting an interview?

You sighed. "Look, just let me interview you family, I promise to only write the truth and only the truth. No conspiracies, I swear."

"Or I could just fire you. Better yet, have you sued for defamation."

You nodded. "You could, but honestly that would only bring more attention to the articles and more conspiracies would arise. Besides, you and I both know you cant stop me from writing even if I'm in jail."

Bruce watched you walk upto him, holding your phone in your hand. "Come on, just one week- one week at your place, I'll even let you read the article before I post it. If you dont like it, I'll delete it."

I mean... it did sound like a pretty good bargain. Besides, at his home, youd be in a more supervised space.

So here you are, standing in the lobby of the Wayne manor as a posh butler leads you to Bruce's office. Of course Alfred will be a part of your articles. He's too fancy to not be.

And so over the course of a week, you dont really find anything particularly intriguing about the family, even after you interviewed each member. You're mentally groaning at the thought of writing yet another boring article... that is until you accidentally discover the batcave (ok not accidentally, u hid a recorder in Bruce's office and u heard the man discussing about it with Dick)

Anyways, it didnt take long for you to discover the cave, and it took you even less for you to write a scandalous article.

"RICH MAN COSPLAYS AND PRACTICES HIS JUJUTSU SKILLS ON THE MENTALLY ILL! SEE PICTURES OF WHERE HE ROLEPLAYS IN MASKS!"

Unfortunately, before you hit "post", your phone is snatched and you're knocked out.

When you come to, Bruce is sitting in front of you looking beyond pissed while you're tied up in your seat.

"We had a deal, Y/n." Bruce gritted out.

"So? Deal was off the moment I found out you were Batman." You shrugged.

"We had a deal-"

"You really expect me to just pretend like I'm blind after I found out who you really are? Do you think anyone would just give up on a scoop this big?" You tilt your head at him.

Bruce narrowed his eyes at you. "Scoop? Thats what this is to you?"

You nodded. "Sure, you're a hero who fights crime and brings "peace" to Gotham, but who knows for sure? After all, thats how you want the world to see you." You lean as far as your restraints allow you. "I dont trust you, Bruce. Not one bit. There's just- this gut feeling about you. Nothing personal, but I dont get good vibes from you."

"Is that so?" Bruce raised his brow before sighing. "I guess there's no reason to let you go then."

"What?"

He nodded to himself. "Yes, if I let you go now, you'll only cause more trouble for me, but also for yourself. If you post content like that, people will target you- yes, I definitely cant let you go. You're an impulsive idiot who'd endanger herself just to not be bored."

Your eyes widen. "You cant kill me."

Bruce scoffed. "Dont be ridiculous, I can, but I wont. I just want to take care of you, protect you from yourself." He stood up. "I did a little bit of research on you too, yknow? You keep your personal life super private, I have to give credit to you, it wasnt easy to find out about your family. But... money makes the mare go."

Your throat dried as you saw a glint in his eyes. He knew... he couldnt-

Bruce's footsteps echoed as he neared you and ruffled your hair. "Poor you... having to deal with a schizoprenic mom." He leaned down to smile gently at you, but you could sense the sinister intent.

"Dont worry, she'll be taken care of at Gotham Asylum while you stay with us."

girl idk where i was going with this, i just needed to get it out of my drafts (i have another long incomplete draft about platonic yandere dick x gymnast reader where he basically is intrigued by this mini tonya harding who lives for her dead beat father's approval who doesnt give a shit about her unless she comes first. so its upto dick to adopt u and make u a part of batfam)

#rich man has weird ways of adopting kids that dont consent to adoption #yandere bruce wayne #yandere batman #yandere batfam #yandere batfam x reader #yandere dc #batfam x reader

[elizaleclerc]

intertwined, sewn together 🌊

lando norris x reader

summary: fem reader & lando share a sweet day w friends on a yacht <3

song: not a lot, just forever by adrianne lenker

author’s note: love this sm my heart ugh!! fluff & cute summer vibes. kinda grumpy x sunshine ; allusions to a bad childhood <\3

word count: 1.8k

You reclined on the plush deck of the yacht, basking in the warm rays of the sun as they caressed your stomach. The smell of sunscreen and tanning oil lingered in the air, leaving a sticky sheen on your skin. You relished these lazy days on the yacht, surrounded by your friends Lily and Carmen who chatted animatedly next to you.

Lost in the pages of your book, you barely registered their conversation as you lay with one elbow propped on the ground and the other hand holding the book, using it as a shield against the bright sun. However, your peaceful reading was interrupted by the rowdy boys behind you. Alex, George, Charles, and Lando were engaged in a game of cornhole, their shouts and cheers growing louder with each round. Their competitive banter blended with the sound of the cornhole sacks hitting the wooden board, making it difficult for you to concentrate on your book.

With a deep sigh of frustration, you carefully placed the book down and turned to your friend Lily, who was sitting next to you on the deck of the yacht. The sound of raucous laughter and shouting from the boys had grown increasingly louder, making it difficult for anyone else to carry on a conversation.

"Could they be any louder?" Carmen asked, her voice barely audible over the noise.

You nodded in agreement, “I know right, it’s like they are the only ones on the damn yacht.” You turned over, and, now laying on your stomach, you propped yourself up on your elbows and watched the boys play.

Your eyes were immediately drawn to Lando, his intense focus on the game evident in the way his brow furrowed and his arms swung the sandbag with ease. You couldn't help but admire how effortlessly he moved, his muscles flexing with each throw. His fingers ran through his messy summer curls, adding to his charming and carefree appearance. He was perfect in every way, and just knowing he was yours made your heart soar with happiness.

Lily and Carmen resumed their conversation, still reclining on their backs. You found yourself growing quiet, a natural state for you. Your introverted nature preferred observing to actively participating in conversations.

As a child, this led to struggles in making friends. Some labeled you as mean, but the truth was that you simply had little patience for most individuals. Your shyness was often viewed as a weakness and your silence as threatening, but slowly you emerged from your shell. Childhood experiences had left you with deep scars, ones that most people could never imagine. For a long time, you kept these memories buried deep within, trying to forget they were real. But then Lando came into your life, and he helped unravel all the pieces of you that had been hidden away. He didn't run away or judge you; instead, he loved every part of you as if you were made just for him. And because of him, you met others who saw and appreciated the real you as well.

That’s why you loved these people on the yacht. Not just Lando, who you’ve been dating for three years now, but even his friends and their girlfriends. They were lively at times, but they could be calm and relaxing too, having real and deep conversations. When you started dating Lando, they welcomed you with open arms, and the group quickly felt like a newfound family, one that you desperately needed. 

Lando was sunshine personified. His deep, rich laugh was infectious, bringing out the same pure happiness in everyone around him, including you. You couldn't help but notice how his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he laughed so hard that tears formed in his eyes. And with his perfectly tanned skin and light brown hair, he looked as if he had been sent down from the Sun itself just for you to love and for him to love you back even more fiercely. His genuine empathy and understanding towards your struggles made it feel like he could see right into your soul, and his persistent effort to get to know you only further solidified your growing feelings for him.

The two of you truly seemed like opposites, but everyone around you saw how much love was between you and Lando. As you watched him play cornhole, a small smile spread on your lips. It was inevitable, Lando seemed to just have that effect on you. 

“Lando, looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Charles shouted to him as he must have caught you staring. Your face flushed, even more so with the sun beating down. Lando caught your eye, shooting you a wink. 

“Good, I’m on fire! Best game I’ve played yet.” Lando proudly proclaimed, which made you grin even more. 

Carmen turned on her stomach now to watch along with you. “George, baby, how are you doing?” She asked him. 

Lando was the one to respond though, “Oh, he’s playing like shit. You better take his place.” Everyone bursted out into laughs, everyone except George, who always got slightly offended at jokes made at his expense. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” George sighed with a wave of his hand. “Let’s play another game, I’ll beat you this time.” 

“That’s what you said five games ago,” Alex laughed, which caused the guys to break into another fit of chuckles.

You were enjoying watching them play, but as the sun beat down on your skin and sweat began to form on your brow, you knew it was time to take a break. Walking over to the cooler, you grabbed a cold bottle of water and some freshly cut strawberries. The icy liquid provided instant relief as it cascaded down your throat, while the juicy sweetness of the strawberries left a refreshing aftertaste. 

Feeling rejuvenated, you made your way to the edge of the yacht and settled into the welcoming shade. As you gazed out at the vast expanse of ocean before you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of tranquility wash over you. The rhythmic lapping of waves against the boat and the gentle breeze caressing your skin were soothing in a way that only being on the ocean could provide.

Lost in your thoughts, you reached for your book and lost yourself in its pages. The sound of laughter and splashing from your friends faded into the background as you immersed yourself in the fictional world within. Time seemed to pass quickly as you turned one page after another, until you noticed the sky beginning to change color. A soft orange glow now painted the horizon, signaling that sunset was near.

You moved from your spot on the yacht and went back out to see what everyone else was doing. Lando was laying out on a large sunbed, clearly exhausted from his hours of playing cornhole. As you looked around, all of the boys were laying out too. You couldn’t find Carmen or Lily, but you assumed they were still trying to soak up the last bit of sun they could for the day. 

“There’s my pretty girl,” Lando smiled as you approached him. You stood beside his sunbed as he kissed the top of your hand. “Where did you run off to?” 

“I went to read for a bit. It was kinda distracting earlier when you and the guys were playing.” You explained. He motioned for you to cuddle up next to him on the bed. As you tucked yourself by his side, he smirked. 

“Distracting because I was so good looking?” He bantered and you rolled your eyes. 

“No, because you guys were being so loud.” You joked and he faked a frown. You smiled, “But you’re also very good looking.” 

He tilted your chin up so he could kiss you softly, taking in every bit of you and the strawberry taste still on your lips. As you laid your head back on his chest, he ran his fingers through your hair, playing with it lazily. “I love you a lot you know”

You traced your fingers along his torso and grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I know.”

“Good. Just making sure you don’t forget it.” He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his warm breath mingling with the soft breeze. As the sun began its descent towards the horizon, you both sat on the sunbed, watching the stunning display of colors in the sky. The vibrant oranges and deep blues blended together like a masterpiece, filling you with a sense of awe and wonder. Despite all the pain and suffering in the world, moments like this reminded you of the beauty and magic that still existed. You could feel the warmth of the cooling sun on your skin, leaving a subtle tan as it slowly made its way towards the horizon. The peacefulness of the moment was enough to lull you into a blissful sleep.

~

Charles propped himself up on his cushioned chair, and saw you asleep on Lando’s chest. “She knocked out, huh?” He smiled at Lando.

“Yeah, guess so. The sun makes her tired sometimes.” Lando replied in a low voice to try and not to wake you up. 

“You know, I never heard her say she loved you back earlier.” George remarked from the other side of Lando. 

“She doesn’t have to, I know she does.” Lando replied, which confused the guys. He saw their perplexed expressions. “You know it took her a long time to say it in the first place but…I’ve known her long enough to where I know it without her having to say it.” 

“I still don’t understand.” Alex piped up next to George. 

“I mean, cmon, what’s so hard to understand? You saw the way she watched me earlier. Her eyes said it all. And the other day when she peeled oranges for me without me asking? And yesterday, when we got home, she rambled to me about the book she was reading. You could just see the light and love in her eyes. She never used to be that way, not when I first met her.” Lando knew the other guys still might not get the full picture, but he remembered how you were before you guys started dating. He remembered how you would shut out the world and not let anyone in. He knew that you used to not express how much you liked things or even smile when you ate your favorite foods.

He knew you loved him, he knew it went without saying. You were his everything, and simply being nestled next to him, feeling the gentle rhythm of your breath against his side, was enough to make his heart swell with love. No amount of conversation could match the pure joy of watching you smile or hearing the sweet melody of your voice. The two of you were intertwined, sewn together as the perfect pair.          

#f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfic #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

[coryosbaby]

18+, MDNI !!

Family friend! Billy The Kid teaching you how to kiss and it leading to much more <3 pulling him into your pretty pink room, pushing him onto the frilly sheets in the dark hours of the night. It’s a sleepless one— you and Billy had been up all night and your parents are sleeping soundly in their beds, clueless to their daughter’s secret pact with their beloved acquaintance.

You make sure to lock your door just in case.

The cowboy in front of you sprawls out on your mattress, foot grazing your ankle as you tell him a story about your friend Camille’s adultery.

“And she… she slipped her tongue in his mouth!” You exclaim, wide eyed and innocent. Billy mouth quirks up into a smile, his eyes moving to your pretty, plump lips. “I don’t know if I’d like that, Billy, not one bit.”

“How’dya know if you haven’t tried it?”

“I…” you blanch for a moment. “I dunno. I guess I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t do that anyway. ‘S bad.”

He gives you an amused smile. Your parents, of course, have spewed this narrative to you since you were a child. “No sex before marriage, no datin’ or kissin’ or huggin’” — Billy’s always been on his own, making his own decisions, and he thinks you should be able to do that too. He can’t deny the way your innocence gets his cock hard and bulging through his pants, though, and how badly he wants to corrupt every single part of you. Parents be damned, you’re one of a kind. Sweet and gentle, soft in all the right places, homely. Billy loves that about you. He’d marry you if he could, but even so, your parents would never allow it. They’d know right from the start what he was up to if he asked for their blessing.

His hand makes its way to your knee. He rests it there and massages the soft skin that’s exposed due to your nightgown riding up. You can’t help the flush that makes its way up to your cheeks.

“We could try it,” he suggests gently. “If you want to, darlin’.”

Your eyes widen as you look at him, and your fingers move up to the ribbon in your hair and twirl it around.

“I dunno, Billy..”

“‘M not gonna force you,” he replies. “Just a suggestion, that’s all.”

It’s silent for a moment, Billy awkwardly looking away. What if he fucked up? What if you told your parents?

“Okay.”

It surprises him when you say it so timidly.

“Alright,” Billy replies, then clears his throat and pats his thigh. “C’mere, sweetheart. Get in my lap.”

A smile spreads across your face, and you shyly crawl over to him on all fours before you press yourself down into his lap. Your thighs move to either side of his hips.

“Like this?”

“Just like that.”

Billy has to restrain himself as he sees your light blue cotton underwear peek out from underneath your nightgown. His hand splays across your lower back, pulling you closer. His other hand moves to your cheek.

You close your eyes, waiting for the moment when Billy leans in. His lips hit yours in a small peck, thumb grazing your jaw. You reciprocate as best as you can, and your lashes flutter open when he pulls away, your brows furrowing.

“That’s it?”

Billy can’t help the laugh that spills out of his mouth, loud enough that your hand slaps over his mouth.

“It ain’t funny!” You whine. “Be quiet, you’re gonna get us in trouble!”

He pulls your hand off of his mouth, a grin splaying across his face.

“Sorry.”

When it quiets once again, you lean into him.

“Can we do it again?”

He nods. Both of his hands wrap around your waist this time, and he presses his now smiling lips to yours again. This time it’s more desperate— Billy got one taste and now he can’t bring himself to stop. You let out a tiny whine, pulling away when you feel his tongue press against your lower lip.

“Billy, we can’t do that.”

“Says who?” He leans up against your ear, hands travelling lower, lower. He’s hungry for you, practically starving. “I won’t tell.”

The way he says it, raspy and deep, sends a shiver down your spine. You can’t help the way your thighs clench together, a moan leaving you when the hem of your nightgown is flipped up and Billy grips your ass in his palms. His mouth slots against yours again, leaving your head spinning as you allow his tongue to slip into the warm canal of your mouth. Your own tongue slides against his, the strangely pleasant taste of his saliva making you dizzy. A throbbing overtakes that special spot between your legs, and you grind down against Billy’s fabric clad thigh. He groans, wrapping a hand around your hair so he can pull off of your lips and move to your neck instead.

“Billy,” you whimper out, when you feel his fingers graze the inside of your thigh. “Billy, I feel all tingly.”

“It’s because you need me,” his fingers reach the crotch of your underwear, and his thumb presses against your clit through the fabric. You gasp, mouth falling open as he rubs it in slow circles. “See, sweetheart? Right here.”

“I-It.. it feels…”

“Good?” Of course it does, you’re practically soaked through your panties. “I know. You can make me feel good, too.”

“I can?” Your eyes brighten, and he nods, removing his fingers so he can begin to unbutton his pants instead.

“Mhm. You got me all tingly here, too.”

You look down as he pulls out his hard cock, dripping with arousal and ready for you. A dark thatch of hair sits at the base of him, a vein running up the middle and leading to a pretty pink tip. He gives it a few harsh strokes, pumping it up and down in his fist.

“Lay on your back for me, honey.”

You obey instantly, excitement curling in your gut as your head hits your pillow. Billy hooks his fingers into your panties and drags them down your legs. You blush when he pushes your legs apart, and the boy in front of you curses under his breath when he catches sight of your cunt all swollen and needy.

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs. “Such a sweet little thing….”

He slides his cock between your folds, and you let out a tiny cry. It feels so different from before, so much better, if possible. You look down to see his cock’s aroused head moving in and out between your cunt lips, your thighs becoming slick with your arousal.

“That’s it..” Billy breathes, and he looks almost angry as he uses your slippery cunt. “Good girl, all wet ‘n warm for me.“

You moan at the sight of his muscled arms on either side of your hips as he touches you, your fingernails scraping against his shoulders. Billy leans down to give you another kiss. You return it, your teeth nipping his lower lip. It’s hard to think straight with the way he’s rubbing up against you so prettily.

He grinds against your cunny, using it like a soft pillow for his length, his breath heavy as he watches your little clit swell with arousal. He looks down at your hole, teeny tiny against his big, fat cock, and wants to stretch it so bad that it almost hurts.

But that’ll have to wait— right now, he needs to get you nice and ready, used to these new feelings and sensations. To help you become comfortable.

After a moment, sweat collecting on his brow, Billy pulls away from your lips and moves close to your ear.

“How’s it feel, darlin’?”

“I love it,” you reply to him, almost instantly. “You’re— you’re so handsome. You’re making me feel so..”

You trail off with a whine when his tip accidentally catches on your needy hole. He groans, letting out a string of swears. You clench around nothing, your instincts kicking in as your brain becoming fuzzy and empty.

“I need it— need it there, Billy. I want it inside.”

“Not there, baby. Not yet.”

You want to cry at his words, but not before an unknown feeling is building up in your core. The friction applied to your clit and the thought of Billy sinking into your gummy walls has you biting back a sob. He notices your changed expression, watches the way your legs suddenly tighten up and clamp down around his hips.

“Nghhh.. why does it feel like that?” Your eyes clench shut, confusion and desperation taking over you. “S-Somethin’s happenin’, Billy…”

He smiles, gripping his length in his hand so he can press it harder onto your clit, sliding against it and watching his cock become coated in your juices.

“Let it happen. It’s a good thing, baby— gonna feel so good.”

Your orgasm overtakes you faster than lightening. You arch your back as wave after wave of pleasure takes over you, colors flashing behind to eyelids. It’s the greatest you’ve ever felt, the greatest you ever thought you could feel, and Billy follows soon after with a moan against your neck. His warm cum squirts out onto your mound, glazing it in sticky white, and he desperately slides against your slit until you’ve milked him completely dry. You look down at the mess you’ve both made, his spend dripping onto the sheets. With his face against your breast, Billy chuckles.

“I bet Camilla’s gonna hear a hell of a story tomorrow, isn’t she?”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

#Billy the kid #Tom Blyth #Billy the kid x reader #Billy the kid x fem! reader #Billy the kid smut #Billy the kid fanfic #Billy the kid Drabble #Billy the kid blurb #Billy the kid oneshot #Tom Blyth x reader #Tom Blyth fanfic #Coriolanus snow

[marieracingteam]

A Flower to a Lilybug – ls.18

stepdad!Lance Stroll | more

word count: 1612

summary: The story of how Lance finally met Lily, or the story of how Lawrence became a flower before he became a grandpa.

Lily was just two years old when Lance met her mom, which meant that Lily wasn't really aware of all that was happening in her life.

She knew she had a mum and she knew, somewhere, she had a dad. Dad, however, was never around so she didn't really think much of him or his family, whom Lily had barely met. She also knew that mum had a mum and a dad who lived far away and she only saw once or twice a year and a few more times over the phone.

But that was pretty much all. For Lily, mum was her everything –and for the most part her only thing– for her whole short life.

That was until Lance came through.

Her mum and he had been talking for a whole year before she agreed to start calling their dates dates, but not before he met her daughter and she gave them their blessings.

Lance of course had accepted her pace, how could he not when he knew she was just protecting her daughter and herself after being betrayed by her last partner?

And because he knew how much she needed everything to be perfect, he tried extra hard to make everything perfect on that first day.

Maybe a little too hard.

He had spent long hours thinking about every single detail. He had even asked his father for help like he tended to do.

Maybe that is why he was so nervous when he first met Lily. The now three years old, in response, got also shy, probably sensing the grown-ups expectations.

“Hello Lily. I am Lance, mom’s friend. Mom has told me a lot about you and I wanted to meet you” he said while offering the girl his hand.

“Hi you!” she squealed before running back into the living room where she was playing with some dolls.

However, the dinner had gone more smoothly. At least at first. Lance had relaxed enough to make conversation with the little girl and Lily had quickly forgotten that she didn't know him when he started to ask her about the things she loved.

He had thought about gifting something to the little girl, but his father had told him to not buy the girl with expensive gifts. So instead he had learned to do paper dolls like Lily's mum had told him she loved to do.

Lily was so close to liking him when her mum started to breathe strangely.

“Peanuts” she screamed, grabbing her neck and making Lance run to where she always kept an EpiPen in her bag.

If he hadn't been so worried about the woman swelling up in his backseat, he would have probably been stressed about the crying little girl he had left with his father at home.

Because he loved his father, he truly loved the old men, but he could be scary and he knew he was bringing down his chances of winning the little girl’s heart by the second.

“Sorry, love. The bakery must have mix up the cakes. I don't know how that happened. I am so sorry. I told the man a thousand times to not put any nuts” Lance said again and again while he ran to the hospital.

The woman just laughed at the situation and when Lance looked at her through the rearview she was smiling. He didn't know then, but that was the first time someone had cared so much about her and her daughter.

And Lance didn't have anything to worry about, because back at home his father was doing all the hard work with Lily.

“So…” Lawrence said looking at the little girl who was sitting on the sofa eating ice cream “I heard you like doing paper dolls”

“Yeah” she answered, licking the spoon clean “And you?”

“Not my expertise, but I can see the charm in it”

Lily just looked up at him. When she had calmed down after the old man explained to her that her mom was fine but she needed a bandaid to be perfect, the girl had started to analyze the man.

Her mum had told her beforehand all about her friend and the get-together they were going to have that night, but she didn't expect any of that. Her mother had forgotten to tell her that after dessert they would run out and leave her alone at home with an unknown man.

Lily knew she was just a little girl, but wasn't that what her mother had told her not to do?

“You are weird, Flower” the girl finally said after deciding that she could trust the strange man with the funny name. If her mother trusted him enough to leave her in his care, who was she to not do it?

“Why is that?” Lawrence asked sitting beside her on the couch. 

The girl just shrugged her shoulders. Her mother had taught her that it was wrong to say those things to people, especially older ones. The previous comment had slipped out of her mouth.

In her defense, Lily would say that Lance's dad was strange indeed. Lance too. Her mother's friend had sweaty hands and had dropped his spoon more times than she had. Plus, mom's friend's face turned red all the time. All the times her mom spoke at least.

But Lance's dad was even weirder. All his hair was white, all. Plus he was the oldest person Lily had ever seen, even older than Mom's friend from work who had just turned 40 recently and invited them to her party. The man was tall and was wearing a suit like on TV. Lily had never seen anyone on the streets of her town in Canada wearing one of those outfits beyond the movies.

Plus, Lance's dad had let her eat the ice cream straight out of the container to stop her from crying, which was weird, because her mom never let her do that. But she wasn't going to complain.

“And what is that Flower thing?” Lawrence asked finally.

“Your name, duh” Lily responded with the spoon still in her mouth.

See? Weird. The man had just said that was his name.

“My name is Lawrence” the man corrected.

“Florence,” she said back before making the connection “flower”.

The man laughed a deep laugh that reminded Lily of movie villains. And he looked like one. If he didn't have such a funny name, Lily probably would have been scared of him. “I am not a flower”

“You look like one” the girl responded, sure of her opinion.

“Why is that?” the man pressed, amused at the conversation.

“The white petals” she said pointing at his hair “Do you know how to braid?”

Lawrence laughed again. Lance had told him a lot about the woman he was meeting and had told him some things he was discovering about her daughter, but Lawrence did not expect the pleasant surprise that was meeting first the mother at a gala and then the girl, even if it was under those circumstances.

The mother was polite and affectionate with his son. Lawrence had been doubtful of her at first, as he always used to be when someone new came into their lifes. But at no time had she shown interest or asked for anything in exchange of her company like other used to do. If Lawrence was right, and he usually was, the only reason she was still with Lance was because she was really interested in his son.

And the girl. The girl had been a breath of fresh air.

It had been a long time since Lawrence last was around small children. His children were already grown and despite his insistence, his daughter had not yet made him a grandfather.

Even if the girl wasn't exactly Lance's, if everything went as his son expected that night, this wouldn't be the last time Lawrence would see the girl.

And, at that moment, he felt like it was in his power to help make everything happen that way, even if he himself had shown him his reluctance when he found out that the woman his son was with already had a daughter from a previous relationship.

“Yeah, I do. Do you want one braid?” he offered.

“No” she said still licking the empty spoon.

“Lance also knows how to braid. He is very good at it” lied the man. He didn't truly know why he was doing it but he guessed that he will need the extra help impressing the little girl after almost poisining her mom.

While waiting for her mom to come back, Lily decided the man wasn’t that bad anymore. And he was a flower after all. A flower who had ended up braiding her hair into smalls braids and had cut the paper dolls Lance had brought for her. 

He was still a little weird and a little scary looking but he wasn't that bad.

And he was comfy. She had found that when she laid her braided head in his chest while playing with the dolls. 

And! When her mom asks her tomorrow when she wakeds up on her own bed surrounded by all her plushies, she will say that the flower was a magician. Which was a pretty impressive story.

Even when she had swore she wasn't going to fall asleep until her mom came back, the flower had charm her into sleeping while rubbing her belly, like she did with her mom's friend's puppy.

She may not know a lot about old people or grandparents but the flower wasn't that bad himself. And maybe his son wasn't so bad either.

#f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #formula 1 #formula 1 fanfic #f1 angst #lance stroll #lance stroll x reader #lance stroll imagine #lance stroll fanfic #lance stroll fluff #ls18 x reader #ls18

[joonieskinks]

dbf!Simon Riley who has always kinda just been around. Your father and him have been good friends for years, always coming over and hanging with the family, no one minds. You’ve always been comfortable with him, interested in his company and found him attractive of course.

dbf!Simon Riley who can’t help but start to notice you more so as you’ve gotten older and become of age. Well, he always thought you were endearing and a sweet girl, never in a creepy way- but now that you’ve developed into a 20 something, he sees you in a new light. You’re the same way but with him too. Sure, you’ve had your little fantasies about the older man, but now as a grown woman you were determined to be seen different, and now to act on them.

dbf!Simon Riley who agreed to come over on his motorcycle one summer day and help your dad with his truck. Only, your father had to run and aid with work, asking you to help Simon with whatever he may need. Leaving the two of you alone together, a hot, sweaty Simon shirtless before you and yourself in a little sundress. Truly intentional on both sides.

dbf!Simon Riley who comes into the living room to ask for some water, just in his jeans. The sight makes you shift in your seat on the couch, twisting your legs together to help alleviate the ache between them. Fuck, he looks so good. You wonder how he’s never been married in all these years, cause certainly you can’t have been the only interested party.

dbf!Simon Riley who watches as you writhe on the couch, trying desperately as to not gawp at him. Yet he makes an effort to let you know he’s very much interested. You’re alone together, you two know each other well enough, you’re hot, he’s hot - why not? He’s wanted you for longer than he would care to admit. He just needs you to make the first move over him. Especially with your dad, him not wanting to be creepy and all... but Simon very much wants you.

dbf!Simon Riley who never breaks his gaze on you, watching as your eyes darted everywhere to the floor to his defined arms, to the door to his pants. It makes him smirk at how coy you're being with him, but he's not a patient man today.

dbf!Simon Riley who approaches you from across the room, your eyes shooting up to meet his. They widen as he kneels before you, his toned stomach just pressing against your knees, as if he's asking to be let in. You're embarrassed as you slowly spread them for him, a clear wet spot outlined on your panties. But Simon can only cuss under his breath at the sight, fuck- just for him? He feels like a lucky man indeed. He leans in closer to you, hovering just above your lips, daring you to please make this a reality. Finally, the man you've dreamed of after all this years, he wants you too. So how could you be expected to resist?

dbf!Simon Riley who moans into your mouth at your contact, pushing you back onto the couch until you're trapped beneath him. His length straining against his pants, grinding against your core. He can't help but want to explore every inch of you now that you've given him permission- your breasts, your throat, your folds. It doesn't take long for him to push your dress up and your soaked panties down, along with his belt and jeans discarded. Simon needed you now, no time to take you to the bedroom. He thinks that he'll have plenty of time for that later.

dbf!Simon Riley who brings your legs to his chest as his thick length slips into you, pumping deeply, trying to hit that spot inside you that makes you see stars. He's absolutely determined to make you forget everything but his name in this moment. God, he wants all of you, and he's certain 1000 times with you will never be enough. Simon thinks you look so gorgeous taking him over and over again till the tears start to leak from your eyes, till you're begging for one more release. His girl now, he thinks.

dbf!Simon Riley who thinks about taking you out on his bike together, who thinks about waking up to you in the morning and sneaking kisses when your parents aren't looking. All while making you cum around his cock, your back arching and mouth falling open. Till he fills you up and you're squeezing him relentlessly.

No, he's never been the relationship type, but he thinks deep down maybe you'll be the one to change his mind.

#joonieskinks #simon riley x reader #ghost simon riley #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod imagine #simon riley ghost smut #simon riley smut #simon riley imagine #mw2 ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #dbf!simon Riley #dbf!ghost

[professor-beaker]

(Warning: very long rant about growing up religious and aroace. Might delete this in an hour. Idk)

Dear mom and dad,

Do you remember when i was 14, and had my first kiss? You probably dont- for you, it was just another sunday. He was one of my only church friends, and he pulled me, alone, into one of the music rooms after sacrament meeting. You encouraged me to go with him, because you could read the signs i couldnt. He was very polite, but when we kissed and he grabbed my hand on the way out, it felt more wrong than anything id experienced before. I ran back to you, crying, and you walked me through rejecting him. You basically told me that i was just too young, that it would get better, but it certainly didnt feel that way at the time. Every time youve reminisced on it since, it was only to laugh at my expense. At my naievety.

I tried to take your words to heart. I tried to listen each time our church would preach about how essential families were and each time you told me how happy you two were. It didnt work.

Do you remember when i was 15, and i told you, mom, that adopting sounded way better than having biological kids? You got so offended, and i had no idea why. I still dont. You told me it was a natural part of life, that we were supposed to bring children into this world. I tried to explain my reasoning- why would i want my own children when there are those who are suffering on their own? When the thought of procreation made me sick?- but you dismissed it. It was just another day.

Do you remember the brief period when i was 15, when i dated a girl? I assume you dont, because you never found out. I lived in constant fear, because the comments you would make at the dinner table described lgbtq+ as an affront to God, as unnatural. I had thought that men were the problem, and she was my first real partner. But nothing changed, it still felt wrong, and we fell back into only being friends. I hadnt told you about that until today, because i knew exactly what youd say about it. I knew exactly what youd say about me.

Do you remember the boy i met when i was 16? The one with the curly hair and the kind smile. You were always pushing me toward him, because you saw how he looked at me (i saw, too- and i didnt like it). He took me to homecoming, and prom, and danced too close to me for my liking. You always asked if we were a thing yet- and when i said no, you smiled knowingly. I hated that smile. And you smiled that smile for years.

I reconnected with him when i was home over winter break. We hung out once, i told him my sexuality, and he barely reacted. When you asked how it went, i told you i rejected him romantically, but we were still friends. Do you remember what you said, mom? You said, "so you broke his heart and left." I cried that night.

Do you remember when you found my aroace pins a month ago? Im at college in a different state- a religious college you wanted me to go to- and you still made it your priority to berate me for it. I dont know if you could tell how angry i was over the phone, but when you said "asexual and things are just looking for attention", it broke my heart.

Because i figured it out when i was 17. Because it took me two years to finally accept it in a religion that very strongly emphasized the family unit. Because i finally felt accepted, i felt heard, i wasnt being dismissed at every corner. Because i had something to explain why i was like this.

Because i finally didnt feel broken.

I never doubted that you loved me- not once, ever, in my life. Not until you started degrading me for something i couldnt control. Not until you started pressuring me to date people i would much rather be friends with. If youre not going to love all of me, then do you even love me at all?

I hope you know that i still love you, despite everything. But i hate the way you talk to me now, the way you talk to others about me. And i hope that one day, you, too, will realize that im not broken, or affronting God, or unnatural. I hope you realize that im still your child.

I hope you realize im still human.

#aroace #aromantic #asexual #arospec #aro problems #aro #ace #lgbtq community #lgbtqia #lgbt pride #religion #literally just a rant #i am not expecting notes on this at all

[milliesfishes]

The Heir

(requested)(@kayleigh--23 <3) [fem reader] contains: pregnancy angst, arranged marriage, pressure to become pregnant. pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem reader summary: (au) You thought being married to Coriolanus Snow would be enough, but when there is pressure on the two of you to have a child, the events that follow are life changing. author’s note: Oh I do adore pregnancy angst. Another take on the arranged marriage trope, please enjoy!

"...an heir."

You could barely hear the words through the door. Your husband of one and a half years and an old Snow family friend, a man called Mr. Vesta, had disappeared into his study an hour ago and they hadn't allowed you in. It had sounded important, and you couldn't help it, you needed to know what it was. Especially after you'd heard your name mentioned more than once.

With one ear to the door, you'd caught bits and pieces of the conversation. None of it made sense in your mind, this new bit of information least of all.

Coriolanus Snow was the least objectionable option when it came to marriage. Not that you'd had a choice at all in the matter, but for your own peace of mind you pretended. You pretended it hadn't been a strategic political move on his part to marry someone from your family. You pretended Mr. Vesta wasn't overbearingly and old fashioned-ly invested in the image the two of you presented as a married couple.

The goal was to make him president. You knew that much. And Mr. Vesta, as well as having known Coriolanus his entire life, had experience in running for office. But you knew very little else. Politics in Panem were a mystery to you, and at times they could be archaic. At least, the things everyone wanted you to do were.

The dresses you had to wear, the people you were seen with, how you acted. Hell, the arranged marriage itself seemed that way to you. But this was how it was done. Your own mother had married your father for similar reasons, though her situation had nothing to do with politics, only social gain. Yours was both.

You went into the marriage with a positive attitude. This will be what you make of it, you'd been told. You figured if you walked in with a positive attitude and determination it would work out the best it could.

But then you met your husband to be.

He was handsome but cold. Charming but manipulative. Attentive at times but distant at most. Every good thing about him was punctuated by a flaw. He'd make a good politician, you'd noted.

The wedding was a blur of photographers and fed lines. He'd barely acknowledged you, and you knew every look, every touch was false. It cheapened the whole experience for you, and a resentment built up inside you.

At least after the wedding night he'd allowed separate bedrooms.

Maybe you'd have felt guilty about your feelings toward him if he'd shown any sign of fondness toward you. But he didn't. He ignored you most days, except when he needed your influence or your image or your body.

Which is why now, in the present, you hardly worried about the consequences of eavesdropping. If they were talking about you in there, you deserved to know.

"...bring her in..."

Forgetting your confidence, you scurried away as quietly as you could, returning to the sitting room, where you'd last been spotted by them. Picking up a book, you pretended to read until Mr. Vesta, an older man with a beard, came in and said that your presence was required in the study.

Ignoring the way he'd spoken to you in your own home, you followed him back through the study doors, nodding at everyone in the room before your eyes moved to your husband.

Coriolanus was sitting behind his desk, a look of discontentment on his face. What had they been talking about in here? You moved to his side automatically. He may have not been your number one pick, but he was the safest person in the room for you to stand by.

Putting your hand on the back of his chair, you looked between them. "What did you need from me?"

"We're here to discuss a proposition," Mr. Vesta said, looking entirely too comfortable. He nodded at your husband. "Snow?"

Coriolanus took in an almost frustrated breath and turned up to you. He held eye contact with you for a moment before speaking. "It has been suggested that we..." he inhaled through his nose. "...produce an heir."

You blinked in surprise, doing a double take. When you looked at the other man, you could see that this wasn't a joke. They were serious.

"...No," you said in disbelief, looking back at your husband. "This was never part of the arrangement."

"Things change," Mr. Vesta said, giving you a pointed look. "It is imperative that you produce an heir by the end of the year. A male heir."

That sentence was so offensive to you that you had to look away for a moment. When you gathered your manners back, you said, "Why is this suddenly so important? Isn't us being married enough?"

"Coriolanus is the last of the Snow name," Mr. Vesta said, seeming to think he was providing an explanation. "It would have to happen eventually. In the best interest of keeping the old family names around."

"I don't see how that serves your interests," you said stiffly, and Coriolanus grabbed your hand, squeezing it as a warning, the cool of his ring pressing into your skin.

"It was of the utmost importance to Crassus that I, specifically, see this through," the bearded man said in stern tones. "He hoped his son would be able to carry it out on his own-" he gave Coriolanus his own pointed look- "but since he has not, it was time for me to step in. Not to mention that having a son would increase political gains greatly. Seeing that an old family is still strong."

You were dazed. It all felt so ridiculous to you. Of all the things they'd made you do for this role, this had to be the worst. They were asking you to not just sleep with a man you hated, but to bear his child. And Coriolanus himself looked less than happy about it.

"Within the year," Mr. Vesta repeated, and he stood up. "Both your image and your obligations to your family depend on it." He nodded stiffly at you, then left. You never got the impression that Mr. Vesta was all that fond of you. He didn't see you as a person, more as a machine that broke now and then but was ultimately served its' purpose.

Once he was gone, you turned to Coriolanus, your expression horrified. "You're not seriously thinking about this are you?"

"We don't have a choice," he said, his voice dangerously quiet.

"Yes we do," you protested, kneeling by his chair, grasping the arm. You were trying to look him in the eye, but he was avoiding you. "We're already married. Your image is intact-"

"But my family isn't," he said sharply, turning suddenly to look at you. "You don't understand. I have a responsibility to continue the line and Vesta reminded me of that." He ran a hand through his hair frustratedly. "I apologize that I didn't disclose this before but it's not optional."

"Coriolanus-"

"You think I want to do this?" His voice was irritated, and he stood up suddenly. You did too, surprised.

"No, but-"

"We have to," he said angrily, pacing. "I don't want to do it either but there are no other options. I need Vesta's support, and unfortunately that comes with the wishes of my late father."

You were silent, tears pricking your eyes as you realized this was really going to have to happen. Scoffing in disbelief and trying to hide your emotion, you buried your face in your hands.

He sighed, and you heard him move closer to you, his polished shoes making a distinct sound on the hardwood floor. "Sweetheart...I'm sorry. I am. But you're my wife. You know that means fulfilling certain...obligations."

Coriolanus took your hands in his, removing them from your face. "We'll make the process as quick as possible, okay?"

When you nodded, there was a ghost of a smile on his face. "That's a good girl. The sooner you're pregnant the sooner it'll be over with."

It was terrifying how well Coriolanus knew himself.

The domineering persona he'd built up when entering the political game may as well have become him. It was a skill he'd honed- the art of pretend.

But every thorn had its flower.

You.

Before meeting you he had high hopes for marriage. He'd hoped you'd be tolerable to look at, decent in conversation, with half a brain. Someone who'd please him, but nothing more.

But you were far beyond that.

Upon your first meeting he knew he was doomed. You were extraordinarily beautiful, with a pretty laugh. And so clever. You'd discussed literature and art so naturally, easy as breathing. Within the first hour of knowing you he knew he could fall deeply, madly in love with you.

And therein laid the problem.

Love was not the goal. In fact, love strayed so far from the goal that it was almost the opposite. If Coriolanus fell in love with you, it would ruin him. His mind, his soul, his pursuits. He'd gone to Vesta afterward and asked if there was anyone else, anyone at all. Surely there was some other girl who was less...enticing, but still had good connections.

Vesta hadn't seen a problem with the arrangement. He'd chided Coriolanus for it. He had the most sought-after woman in the Capitol. Your social status would make him more favorable in the eyes of voters, as would seeing him in love. Seeing no other options, Coriolanus had agreed.

To marrying you, not being in love.

He'd endured the game, accompanying you to dinners and galas, and going through with the wedding, all the while keeping you at arm's length. Coriolanus resolved that the only way to keep himself from falling in love was distance. And distance he maintained.

Except for at public events, he avoided you. Occasionally, he'd beckon you to his bed, whenever he needed to relieve some stress or tension, but that was the extent of it. He couldn't help himself- you were just so perfect. And you were his wife after all.

No matter how he justified his actions, it still felt wrong.

With Vesta's newest demand Coriolanus felt his control over the situation slipping. The old man didn't know what he was asking of him. Honestly how could he have, but it was still frustrating. He was asking them to produce a child as casually as one would ask a favor.

The worst part was seeing how distraught you were over it. A bit of his heart had warmed at seeing how you'd come to stand by his side but it was squashed quickly by what he had to tell you.

An heir. And not just an heir, a son.

Coriolanus could have strangled Vesta. It was ridiculous how invested he was in such private affairs. But his father's old friend was experienced in an area he desperately needed help in: politics. So, he had no choice but to accept.

Seeing you on the verge of tears had nearly broken him. He allowed himself to comfort you, just a little, convincing himself that that was what any husband would do, even if he didn't love his wife, which Coriolanus certainly didn't.

You fell pregnant quickly, which he was thankful for. For his sake but surprisingly, more for yours.

Naturally, he kept close tabs on you while still trying to maintain the distance he'd determined was the best solution for the situation. Reports were delivered to him daily.

You were quiet most days, hardly speaking to anyone. He felt guilt over that. Vesta and their public relations team had determined that for the first bit of pregnancy it was best for the two of you to stay out of the spotlight. That meant you were hardly able to leave. And with his insistence on distance, well...it was inevitable that you'd be lonely.

As the months progressed, his reports contained more concerning information. You were losing weight at an alarming rate, becoming more drawn. The baby was doing exceptionally well thanks to the doctors he'd brought in. But you...you were suffering for it.

He saw evidence of this when he was standing at the window of his study one day, taking a pause from his work, when he saw you in the rose garden wandering amongst the blooms.

The reports had not done your condition justice. Even from the window on the third floor he could see how thin you were, even with your belly swelling.

Beautiful, he couldn't help thinking as he watched you. Even in your current state, you were glowing. He tossed a look over his shoulder at his papers, a mountain of work he suddenly did not feel like doing. then in a split-second decision, he abandoned his study and headed down the stairs, rolling up the sleeves of his white shirt.

Heading into the rose garden, he hesitated at the sight of you. You were bent slightly over a flower, lifting the rose to your nose. The corners of your lips turned up slightly as the fragrance hit you. Turning slightly, you caught sight of him, and straightened, your hand sliding over your belly immediately. "Coriolanus."

"Sweetheart," he greeted, stepping closer.

You looked a little puzzled. "Did you need something?"

He felt a little dazed, unsure really why he came out here. "No...I just..." Coriolanus was now less than a foot away from you. "I wanted to see how you were."

Your expression grew slightly more surprised, but you stayed graceful. "I see."

"Yes," he said, unable to stop looking at you.

Biting your lip, you looked to the side, fingers splayed out over your belly. "I'd have thought you'd gotten enough from your reports."

He blanked. "You know about those?"

"You aren't very discreet," you said, giving a tight smile. "Besides, I know you. You're nosy."

He sniffed a laugh at that. "It's hardly being nosy when it's concern for my wife."

Silence.

Your hand fell off your belly and you moved to examine another rose, a white one. "I didn't know you cared for my wellbeing."

He followed you, tracing your steps. "You're carrying my child, sweetheart."

"Not by either of our choice," you said softly. You reached over your belly to touch one of the rose petals on the outside of the flower. "It is an obligation."

"And yet here we are," he said, picking the rose. He snapped the stem, tucking it behind your ear, his hand sliding under your chin, lifting your eyes to his. "Making the best of our situation."

Your doe eyes as you looked up at him nearly melted his heart. Coriolanus wished he could paint a portrait of you as you were right now: belly round and full of his child, one of his family roses in your hair. You looked so utterly his.

"You haven't been well sweetheart," he murmured, thumb stroking your cheek. "Even if I wasn't getting reports-"

"I'm fine. As fine as I can be," you said quietly, trying to avoid his eyes. "Growing a child is taxing, believe it or not."

"This is different." Coriolanus took your hand, which hung limply in his. "I worry about you."

"There is no need for it." You walked over to a stone bench, sitting with both your hands beside you. Your dress fell over your belly in such a way that your knees were not visible. The little detail made you all the more endearing to him.

"Darling." Coriolanus sat beside you, taking your hand once again. "I know this is hardly ideal, but I need you to try."

"What on earth do you think I have been doing?" you asked, looking up at him.

"You're fading," he said simply.

Taking in a breath, you turned slightly to face him. "I'm doing the best I can. I'm pregnant, you'll have your boy. There is nothing more to ask of me."

"Part of that obligation is taking care of yourself," he said, looking you straight in the eye.

"Am I not doing enough?" you exhaled softly. "I don't know why you're so concerned. You've ignored me for the brunt of our marriage. You do not seem to feel any affection for me. I don't see why you should care."

"You know exactly why I care," he insisted, his tone growing frustrated. "I cannot watch you wither away into nothing."

He stood up, holding out his hand. "When is the last time you ate?"

You bit your lip, casting your eyes to the side as you thought. "This morning."

It was nearly the evening. "Come. Let's find something."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly.

"Sweetheart," he said earnestly back, extending his hand further. Even though he wanted to stay distant, there was a protective urge festering inside him, one he couldn't ignore like he'd done in the past.

You pursed your lips for a moment, then seemed to decide something. Taking his hand, you carefully stood up and let him lead you back up to the house.

As he found you something to eat, he thought of his earlier promise to himself not to let himself fall for you. He knew deep down that you had the potential to entrance him, make him adore you. Despite his aversion to this trait of yours, he knew he couldn't keep you at arm's length any longer. Not when your health was on the line.

Perhaps he could resist but stay close.

Your pregnancy progressed with a few things to note.

The first being that your health improved greatly. You were kept under watch, and your weight became less concerning. You found yourself feeling better, a little less tired all the time.

The second notable thing was the sudden closeness of your husband.

Since the day in the rose garden, he had become warmer towards you, more open. He took meals with you every day, diligently making sure you'd eaten enough.

One evening he summoned you to his study, surprising you.

"Is something the matter?" You stood in front of his desk, slightly worried. You'd rushed up so quickly that you hadn't put your book down, your finger still marking your place.

"Will you sit with me?" he requested, gesturing to the seat in front of him.

You tilted your head, sitting down carefully, hand over your belly. "Is everything alright?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "I just...wanted you to be close to me. Read your book."

Slowly, you nodded, leaning back in your chair. You opened your book and began to read, peering up to see that he'd begun writing again. Slightly confused but surprisingly pleased that he wanted you near, your eyes found the page again.

Shifting in your chair, you did your best to get comfortable, but it proved to be a difficult task. Your belly didn't exactly make things accommodating for you. Doing simple tasks with ease was becoming increasingly harder.

Apparently, this fact was noticeable to your husband as well. He set his pen down. "Darling?"

You looked up. "Hmm?"

Coriolanus patted his lap. "Come sit."

Tilting your head, your brow furrowed confusedly. "You want me to-?"

"You're uncomfortable," he said, leaning back in his chair, his arms open and ready for you. "Come."

Hesitantly you stood up, book in hand, and went around the desk to sit across his thighs. He secured an arm around you, a little over your belly and you leaned back against him comfortably. "Is this okay?"

"More than," he said, smiling just a little. "Stay here."

And with that, he went back to his papers, working with one hand and keeping you against him with the other. You returned to your reading, perfectly content against him.

This became a routine of sorts. You'd come shyly into his study; he'd hold out an arm for you and you'd sit on his thigh and read. You began to look forward to it, to this time you spent together. His touch was somehow comforting to you.

That was the third thing to note. How much you liked his closeness. The way he went out of his way to make sure you were comfortable, to make sure you weren't lonely.

That wasn't to say there weren't challenges.

At the first gala you attended with him since becoming pregnant, you knew it was going to be a trying affair. Coriolanus was attentive, whispering to you that he'd get you out as soon as possible.

Dressed in a white gown that accentuated your pregnancy, you knew pictures of you and Coriolanus would be splashed across every headline. Keeping that in mind, you did your best to be gracious, to smile and say the right things.

But, three hours into an event that would surely last all night, you found yourself becoming weary. You tugged at Coriolanus' arm, which you'd been glued to all night, but he didn't notice. He was speaking with a senator, engrossed in conversation.

His wife turned to you, starting to speak. "How have things been so far? With the baby?"

You smiled tightly, not upset with her, but tired. "Very well. It's been a wonderful experience."

"How lovely," she smiled, eyeing your figure. "It is a wonder to be sure. A great deal of people have thought you'd never give him a child."

You didn't quite know how to respond to that, so you merely smiled shyly.

"And you're certain it's a boy? We certainly don't need any more young girls around here," the woman laughed, oblivious to your discomfort.

"I suppose we'll see," you nodded, stifling a yawn with your hand and tugging at Coriolanus' arm again. He didn't respond.

"I suppose you aren't eating enough then," the woman noted, raising an eyebrow as she caught your yawn. "If you were you wouldn't be so tired. Or thin for that matter. I know when I was-"

"Darling," Coriolanus cut in, turning to you. "I believe it is time for us to leave." He nodded politely at the woman in front of you and escorted you out, one hand holding one of yours and the other on your back.

Once you were alone at home, you started to cry, a hand over your mouth as you let yourself break down. Your fatigue, the unsolicited advice, the comments on your appearance...it was all too much. You couldn't stand any of it.

It was just another reminder to you of how alone you were. You had no friends- the women of the Capitol were less than inviting, only speaking to you out of obligation and jealousy. And your husband...well, you weren't sure what to think of him at the moment.

Knowing you needed to move around to calm yourself down, you left your room, wandering down the hallway. You tried to keep your breathing even, a hand on your heart as you walked.

You stumbled upon the ballroom, opening the door and wandering inside. The vast emptiness of the large room made you feel small, and you marveled at the feeling. Sometimes being married to Coriolanus made everything feel more heightened. But being alone in this large room made everything feel smaller...less important. It was wonderful.

There was a piano in the corner of the room, and you meandered over to it, running your fingers along the keys. In your training as a socialite, you'd had several lessons in the instrument, but it had been a long time since you'd played.

You sat on the bench carefully, positioning your hands on the keys and beginning to play an old favorite. Muscle memory was your companion, and your fingers moved nimbly and easily. It was comforting to know that you still knew how to do it, that not everything in your past was easily forgotten.

When you looked up after you finished playing, Coriolanus was standing in the doorway. The corners of his mouth were turned up slightly, and he walked over to you. You turned slightly on the bench as he did.

Your husband knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his and bringing them to his lips. He lifted his eyes to meet yours, seeming to take you in. You were still in the same white dress you'd worn to the event. He squeezed your hands. "I'm sorry. I know tonight was hard."

Closing your eyes, you nodded, trying not to cry again. "I'm okay." Coriolanus was still looking up at you when you opened your eyes, and you gave him a small smile when you saw how sincere he was in his apology.

"Are you tired?" he asked softly, searching your eyes.

You shook your head. Somehow your fatigue had vanished somewhere in your walk through the halls.

"Okay." He nodded and stood up, helping you stand as well. "Will you come with me?"

It was a genuine question, and you nodded at it, somehow trusting him more in that moment than you ever had before.

He led you upstairs and up to a door you recognized as his room. You hesitated before going inside but ultimately decided to follow him. Coriolanus kicked off his shoes and sat you down on his bed, hands in yours. "Are you well?"

"Yes, I'm fine," you managed, looking down at your joined hands.

"Darling," he murmured.

"I just...it gets so lonely sometimes," you said softly, looking up at him.

"Oh, sweetheart," Coriolanus lifted your chin, searching your eyes. "I had no idea."

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. "It just gets to be too much sometimes."

His hand came to your face, thumb stroking your cheek. "Sweetheart." You opened your eyes. He brought his forehead to yours, the gesture surprisingly comforting. "I'm sorry. I never meant for you to feel this way."

"I feel like I'm all alone in this," you said quietly, rubbing a hand over your belly.

Coriolanus pulled you closer to him, his expression softer than you'd ever seen it. He kissed your temple. "I'm sorry sweetheart. I know that's my fault."

"It's not. Not really," you murmured, leaning into him. "I know you didn't want this."

"That doesn't mean you should suffer for it," he kissed your forehead. Then Coriolanus took your face into his hands, and you leaned into his touch. "I want you to know how grateful I am for you."

You softened between his hands, looking up at him with doe eyes. "Grateful?"

"Grateful," he clarified, looking over you, your body and your belly. "Grateful because you have given yourself wholly to me. You're doing all this for me. And you might say you didn't have a choice. But you did. And you chose to do this for me. Whatever the reason is, I am grateful for you."

You were stunned at this, your lips parting slightly. He saw you. He had seen you and he cared. A tiny smile made its way onto your face as you looked up at him. "That means a lot."

"You deserve more than a lot," he breathed, his hands sliding from your cheeks to your shoulders. "After everything...what you've given me..."

His voice was husky. "Nobody's ever done anything close to this much for me. You..."

"Coriolanus," you whispered, your lips ever so close to his. Months ago, you never would have allowed it, never would have gotten so close. But things were different now. The child growing inside you had changed everything.

"I'll never let you feel alone again," he breathed. "Never let you feel undervalued, unappreciated...nothing less than what you are."

"And what's that?" you asked.

"Beautiful," he murmured. "The beautiful mother of my child. A woman who is more than I deserve."

"Hardly," you looked up at him, feeling like you were seeing him for the first time. His expression was caring, his touch gentle. He seemed so different now than he was at the start of your marriage.

"Let me show you." Coriolanus muttered, hands coming back to yours, lifting them and kissing your fingers once more.

Your heart pounded, breath quickening, and you nodded. He set your hands down, moving his hand to the zip of your dress and pulling back slightly to look at you. You nodded and turned so he'd have easier access. He slid the zip down carefully and you helped him move the dress over your shoulders and down your body. It ended up as a pile of fabric beside his bed.

Gently, Coriolanus laid you back onto the bed, eyes roaming over you. He appeared entranced by you. Your skin was glowing, your body curvier, belly swollen. His lips parted. "Beautiful," he breathed, leaning down. Your lips were terribly close to his...

You took the final step and pressed your lips to his, capturing them in a kiss that started innocent but quickly became searing.

He pulled you in by the waist, pressing you against him. You knew from experience that Coriolanus' kisses were hungry, but tonight he must have been starving. The way his lips moved against yours was sinful, but you wanted it, wanted it bad.

Your hands moved of their own accord, tugging at his shirt buttons and discarding the garment once it was unbuttoned. His pants were the next to go, joining your dress and his shirt on the floor. When he kissed you, his hands wandered over your body, reaching for the clasp of your undergarment. His touch set you on fire.

When he'd gotten you completely bare and he was in the same state, he pulled back, not kissing you for a moment, just looking. You squirmed a little under his gaze, which was intense although caring. "What is it?" you questioned softly.

"Breathtaking." He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "You...carrying my child...you're very nearly a goddess."

That made the corners of your lips turn up sweetly, and you pulled him down for another kiss, his body hovering over you, careful not to put too much weight on your belly.

As you laid tangled in his sheets in the aftermath of it, your body was more wholly satisfied than it had been in a long time. You looked over at him, smiling softly and resting on your side. He reached out and rested his hand back on your cheek, stroking your soft skin. You felt a connection with him then, for the first time since your pregnancy began.

Coriolanus leaned down and kissed you, his lips soft and feather light. He moved on the bed, so he was facing you. The soft light combined with what you'd just done made him look a way that pulled at your heart.

His eyes never left yours. You recognized that look. He was making sure you were comfortable, that you felt safe. Usually, you only saw that look at public events but seeing it right now after something so intimate sent a flutter through you.

"Will you stay tonight?" he murmured, one hand in your hair.

"Yes," you breathed. He opened his arms and let you snuggle close. As you drifted off, you felt one of his hands wander to your belly, caressing it gently. It was the first time he'd really touched it your entire pregnancy.

For the first time, you began to think of the baby in your belly as yours too. A baby. Your hand ran over your bump, and you smiled softly. It was both of your child. As much yours as it was his.

And you didn't mind it one bit.

He had vowed not to fall for you.

He had spent countless hours convincing himself he hadn't.

But after the night of the gala, he couldn't deny it anymore.

Every time Coriolanus looked at you, whether it be at the breakfast table when the sunlight filtered through the windows and hit your face just right, or when he looked up from his work every night when you were on his lap to see your concentrated face as you read, he felt the tendrils of feeling close around his heart.

He found himself becoming more affectionate with you. He used your pet names in an abundance, and he always felt like he needed to be touching you. You were the bright point in his life.

The last months of your pregnancy were bliss. Vesta rarely called on him, so he was free to spend all he free time with you.

Walking in the gardens, reading side by side. He'd press a kiss to your temple now and then, keeping you close, making sure you were well.

He feared childbirth for you the closer you got to it. Thoughts of his own mother, and the stories he'd heard of swam through his head and he held you a little tighter because of it.

Now he insisted you sleep in the same room as him, wanting to keep an eye on you. Sometimes he'd wake in the middle of the night and just watch you sleep, making sure your breathing was steady, wanting to be around in case you needed anything. He was paranoid you'd go into labor while he was asleep.

And of course, when you finally did, he was.

You woke him in a panic, the bedsheets soaked, telling him in hurried tones that it was time, that the baby was coming. He leapt into action immediately, sending for the doctor. The two of you had fallen asleep in your bedroom tonight, and when he tried to move you, you whimpered and shook your head, a cramp rippling through your body.

The doctor arrived, and everything was a blur after that. He never left your side, even though the sight of you in pain made him feel faint.

Before the both of you knew it, the baby was out, and you were collapsing back into the pillows, your body exhausted. Coriolanus looked over to the doctor, who was holding his new baby...

Girl.

Coriolanus stood up, his heart racing. A girl. Vesta would be furious. He was just outside the door after all, expecting the news any moment now.

He went to stand by the window as the doctor handed you the baby, gathering his thoughts. What would he tell Vesta? More importantly, what was the man going to do? His blood started to boil as he thought of Vesta hurting you in any way for this.

Looking over at you with the baby girl in your arms, close to your chest, he was filled with a sense of wonder. You'd grown his child, pushed it out of your body, and he was supposed to be upset that it wasn't a boy?

The door burst open, and Vesta revealed himself, looking over the scene. You rushed to cover yourself, and Coriolanus moved to your side, making sure you had some privacy.

"For heaven's sake Vesta," he said protectively. "You couldn't have allowed us ten minutes."

"Not when the bloodline is at stake, my boy," Vesta said, grinning. "So, your son?"

"Not a son," you spoke up, cradling the baby close to you. You smiled down at your daughter, who was fast asleep.

The man's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"

"Exactly what she said, Vesta," Coriolanus said in quiet tones. "Not a son. A daughter."

Vesta's face grew cold. "This is unacceptable. A daughter isn't good for the family."

"And yet," Coriolanus folded his arms, still standing in front of you.

"She will have to be hidden away. We'll tell the public the baby died," Vesta moved forward, as if to take the child from you.

You shook your head, holding the baby tight to your chest. "No, no don't."

"To have a firstborn daughter isn't good for your image," Vesta reached out for the baby. "Your wife is clearly defective in some way. We'll have the child taken away. Given to another Capitol family."

"No," you cried out, looking fearfully up at Coriolanus. You looked so scared, and the surge of protectiveness that shot through him was amplified with what you said next. "Coriolanus, don't let him take her."

As Vesta moved toward you, Coriolanus stood in his path. "You won't be taking our daughter."

Vesta's face grew sterner still. "I beg your pardon?"

Coriolanus was unmoving. "A son will come eventually. But in the meantime, our daughter will be claimed as ours."

"Your image-" Vesta started.

"Will not be ruined by a child," he cut him off. Coriolanus took a step toward Vesta, his frame tall and intimidating. "Since I enlisted your help in my career, you have been rude, demanding, and disrespectful, especially toward my wife." He glanced back at you. Your eyes were wide as you held the baby.

"If I ever see you insult my wife again," Coriolanus started, his voice quiet but deadly. "Even if I hear of it, I will not hesitate to disappear. You see, since last year, my resources have grown exceptionally. I suppose I have you to thank for that."

Vesta was silent, looking shocked at his words.

"Now get out before I have you escorted," Coriolanus pointed at the door. "Out."

Vesta huffed, straightening his suit. "If your career collapses, you'll only have yourself to blame." He cast a dirty look at you. "Well, I suppose not only you."

And with that, the older man left.

Coriolanus stood there seething for a moment. He had half a mind to run to his study and call the right people to have Vesta taken out right now. But he controlled himself. Later, he thought.

For now, he turned to you, kneeling beside the bed and pushing sweaty strands out of your face. "I'm sorry sweetheart."

"You stood up for me," you said, smiling softly as you looked up at him. You looked down at the baby. "You didn't let him take her."

"How could I?" Coriolanus murmured, leaning in and nudging his nose with yours, which made you smile again. "How could I when I..." he swallowed. "When I love you too much to let that happen."

Your eyes widened a bit, your smile sweeter. "You love me?"

"I think I've loved you ever since I've known you," he said, the adrenaline from the interaction with Vesta seeming to give him courage. "And after this..." he reached down to the baby, stroking her soft little cheek with his finger. "I can't keep it in anymore."

You watched as he sat on the bed next to you, encircling you and the baby in his arms, pushing a kiss to your hair. He smiled, a real smile he always found himself wearing around you.

"I didn't think I'd be able to love you when I married you," you said quietly, looking up at him. "But somehow I do."

He lifted your chin, kissing you briefly. "You love me?" He'd repeated your words, which made you smile.

"I love you," you confirmed, looking into his eyes. You looked so tired, but happy. He'd never understood before how one could feel happy because of someone else's joy, but now he did.

He kissed you again, wrapping his arms tightly around you and the baby, around his little family.

The sun rose that morning, the dawn of a new day, but also a new life for him. He now truly had his wife and his daughter, both so loved.

And he was loved too.

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo snow #the hunger games #the hunger games fanfiction #married to young president snow #coriolanus x you #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas #tbosbas #tbosas fic #tbosas x reader #Spotify

[arcaneafterhours]

in which i try to cut the clark family some slack

did not proof read this bear with me

@womp-womp-waa gift for u

"I just don't understand what I'm doing wrong."

Jessica started therapy 4 months ago. She figured it were for the best, with how much she was working. Regular breakdowns, stress and work was really starting to get to her, and she concluded it would be counterproductive to continue to ignore her problems. Recently, however, she has come with a new issue.

See her son, Aiden, was growing increasingly distant. She supposed she should have seen it coming, with how often her and her husband were away on trips. Jessica had figured he would be fine, he had several things to do. She had made it out just fine with her parents being away, why wasn't he?

"He has plenty to do, friends to hang out with, every gaming console I could find---" She cut herself off with a sigh, bringing one hand up to cover her face. "I know I work a lot, but theres nothing I feel like I can do. I don't understand why he's so distant. Theres extracurriculars, sports, everything of the like."

She stopped again when she caught on to the fact that she had been talking without pause. It was always good to take a break every once and awhile, as she had learned the hard way. Jessica loved her son, he was so talented and smart. And yet he never seemed to be happy.

The woman before her nodded slowly to her words. "What extracurriculars does he do?" She asked, avoiding Jessica's gaze in favor of writing notes on her clipboard.

A mental list almost wrote itself in Jessica's mind. "He plays soccer, he takes violin and piano lessons. Oh! And recently he's started archery," She began, mentally counting off whatever she could. "Honors classes, chess club, the schools student council---"

"And how old is he?" "Aiden is 13."

"Doesn't that sound like a lot for a boy that age? When did he tell you he wanted to do all of this?"

Jessica took a moment to mull on that. Actually, when did he? Lots of them were originally her idea, he simply agreed to them. That was all she really took. A simple nod, a small agreeing hum. She took that and ran with it.

Her mind started to race before she could catch it. It was all for him, wasn't it? She wanted him to be successful, just like she was. She achieved it with hard work, and by taking advantage of every opportunity she got. That was all she wanted. She just wanted her boy to have a life full of potential she knows he has.

She shut her eyes.

"Am i overworking him?"

---

Jessica cried on the way home from that appointment. She cried often, but not like this. She always cried from stress, from how much she had to get done, it was all so much that she just broke down. But she got it done anyway, didn't she? This time she wasn't sure. She was the cause of her child's problems, and oh how she felt terrible. She needed to fix this.

As she drove home, a memory came to her.

She was young, perhaps a little older than her son is now. She came back to an empty home, only getting a note from her parents that they would be back at an unknown time. Her room was a mess. Thinking now, Jessica didn't know why she didn't think to clean it. Only, at the time she had just come home from a club meeting, and immediately had to get ready for her softball game.

She remembered how exhausted she felt. All the time. About absolutely everything.

And yet, she had done the exact same thing to her son.

Jessica was failing him.

---

It was nighttime. She didn't know if he was still awake. She stood outside his door. She had been for five minutes. Would he even want to see her at this point? She had barely seem him today.

One knock. Then another.

Aiden was sitting on his bed when she came in. She didn't know what he was doing. It didn't look like much. Slowly, she sat down beside him.

"How was soccer practice?" "It was fine."

He didn't sound enthusiastic at all.

Jessica took a moment to observe the boys room. It was a wreck. It ripped her heart in two.

"When is your next trip?" "We leave next Friday." She mumbled. He only nodded, looking away. Jessica took a heavy breath. She needed to fix this.

"Why don't you come with us this time?" She spoke slowly, as if addressing a frightened animal she was trying to keep from running away.

Silence filled the room.

"I can't. I have practice. And lessons. I might have club meetings too."

Jessica found herself grabbing the boys hand. It was that time he finally glanced at her. He looked exhausted.

"Forget all of that. You work so hard, you deserve a break."

He was confused. Of course he was. Jessica had always been a 'work til you drop' kind of person. And it was catching up to her now.

"I mean---"

Aiden paused.

"I don't know."

Jessica leaned down and gave him a kiss on the head. It was something she mainly did when he was little. "Think about it, okay? We would love to have you with us."

Of course, there would be the plane tickets. And the hotel rooms. And adding a level of actual tourist activities, instead of just visiting the area. Maybe they could stay for a bit longer this time, and actually enjoy their travels.

When Aiden didn't reply, Jessica stood.

Before she could leave the room, she paused in the doorway.

"Sweetie," She ended up glancing back at him. "Do you enjoy soccer? Honestly?"

Aiden stared at her.

After some heavy silence, he shook his head no.

"What about lessons?" More silent shakes of the head.

Aiden wasn't happy. And it was Jessica's fault. She was working him to the bone, and didn't even have the time to notice. She wanted to cry again.

"You don't have to go anymore, then."

That actually got something out of her son. Perhaps he perked up, or was just straightening his bad posture. Was she reading too far into this?

"Really?" "If you really don't enjoy it, you don't have to go."

Jessica's mind was screaming at her to stop. A mantra of her boy's future crumbling flooded her thoughts. If he doesn't live up to his full potential, he isn't going to have good opportunities in life. What will people say when he suddenly drops everything?

Her grip on his door handle tightened. Aiden was more important. She forced herself to stop thinking like that. Her son and his happiness was more important than anything.

She glanced at Aiden again. He seemed to relax. Like a weight slid off his shoulders in one fell swoop. And, ever so slightly, so did she.

---

Aiden wanted the window seat. Of course, Jessica got the good seats for them, so they were by no means squished. She still sat near him though, watching him as he switched from staring out the window in wonder, to playing some sort of game on his console.

She wanted to connect with him. How could she? Jessica felt lost. Was she doing the right thing for him? How could she even find an entry point to start a conversation? Her eyes drifted back into the game in his hands.

"What are you playing?"

He blinked at her, startled she even asked. "Uh, its called pokémon."

She tilted his head at him, waiting for him to elaborate. After a moment, he switched seats, coming to sit beside her. He showed her the screen, decorated in colorful pixels displaying what appeared to be two odd animal-but-not-quite-animals in what appeared to be a battle. Aiden started to ramble, telling her about types, and moves, and 'gyms'. Frankly, Jessica understood absolutely none of it.

And yet, she listened anyway. Aiden was smiling now, happily explaining every detail he could, showing her how the game worked and everything. To be honest, she had never considered videogames to be something that required strategy. Perhaps she was wrong.

Really, Jessica was wrong about a lot. But she was willing to learn.

#sbg #school bus graveyard #school bus graveyard webtoon #sbg (webtoon) #aiden clark #jessica clark #WHOOPS #DROPPED MY HEADCANONS #anyway #sbg angst #sbg fanfic

[dollypopup]

"Colin should have grovelled more!" "Penelope folded too easily"

I think statements like this typically come from people who like Penelope. . .but don't really understand her. And don't really understand just why she cares for Colin, and just why him groveling would not in any way bring her peace.

Penelope and Colin are kindred spirits in their loneliness, in season 3 more than any others. Penelope had lost her friendship with Eloise, and Colin didn't really have a close friend circle to begin with. Except with Pen. Pen was the person he could put the mask down for, could open up to, (in particular with their 'dreams' discussion) and that's why he couldn't even entertain the idea of giving up talking to her in Season 2. She is a vital part of his life, and holds so much significance and importance to him.

I imagine that's what made their silence over his travels especially painful for him. They spent such a long time talking after Season 1, and he even informs her that her letters were so encouraging, that it helped him heal something inside of himself. That if she could see him in a gentle way. . .so could he. (And he repays this, because he is honest to god out here acting and looking at her like she hung the moon in the sky). But without her presence in his life, he spiraled. Didn't feel confident in being who he is, and thus put on his persona more firmly. We know this because he wrote in his journal that "I want to be less needy, less insecure, while still maintaining the core of my vulnerability that makes me who I am". That he misses his family, that he misses home.

And we know, from the books, that Home? Home is Penelope. Penelope is his North Star, is his guiding force, and who I argue he feels he needs. In his very first scene, he looks toward her house, tries to find her in the window. When he does not, he returns to his family. In the outdoor gathering, he looks for her and finds her, eager to talk. He states aloud that he misses her, and I imagine he wrote it, too. Not hearing back from her over the course of his travels was surely something that hurt him, but he doesn't hold any ill will toward her for it, only wants to reconnect again. In fact, the one and only time he brings up how he misses her and that she didn't respond, she makes very clear the reason why: she heard what he said and it hurt her. And he's ashamed of it.

Colin hears her call him cruel, and instead of ruffling his feathers about it, instead of getting upset, instead of having a chip on his shoulder as I feel so many men would about it. . .he understands why she does so.

Penelope is a woman who has been largely treated poorly in her society. She feels unheard, she feels undesired, and in her circumstances, and I can't help but ask myself. . .has anyone ever truly apologized to Penelope for hurting her, before? Her mother? Her sisters? Eloise, likely, but. . .anyone else? And the way Colin did? Because of all the characters in the show, Colin? Colin knows how to apologize. He has a lot of practice in it. And very importantly: Colin, a man of privilege in his society, apologizes. . .predominately to women. To Marina, to his mother, and multiple times to Penelope.

Ultimately, Penelope wants to be heard, Penelope wants to be understood, Penelope wants to feel desired.

And Colin checks every single one of those boxes. He informs he is not who he was before, and then he proves it to her. He hears that he hurt her, and he comments on it directly. An entire night apart, and he comes back to her 'Because I embarrass you' with 'I am most certainly not ashamed of you', replies to her 'I am a laughingstock' with 'you are clever, and warm, and I am proud to call you my good friend'. He hears her proclaim her own insecurities, and empathizes so deeply with her. He listens. He understands. He makes clear that he cares for her, and that she *is* desired. 'You lift my spirits' 'I seek you out at every social assembly'. That she helps him see the world in ways he loves, that he sees HER and how much she has cared for HIM, that she makes him feel appreciated, that he appreciates her, in turn.

And then? Then? He shows her. He tells her, and he shows her. His actions all throughout Season 3 reinforce this apology. He continues looking for her in every corner of every ballroom, he continues complimenting her, he laughs at her jokes and respects her boundaries, he is ever so gentle with her, he listens to her with an attentiveness that no one else has ever given her. To Lady Whistledown? Sure. But to Penelope? Who else in the entirety of that ton has listened to Penelope the way Colin has?

Absolutely no one.

Penelope Featherington ghosts Colin Bridgerton for months with no explanation, and Colin comes back wanting to reach out to her, and she finally tells him why.

And he apologizes. Because he listens. Really, truly listens. And really truly cares.

I need you to understand how rare that is, even nowadays, but especially back then. That Colin is the kind of man who can put his hurt to the side and realize he made a mistake, that he said something callous, and he adores her, and he can't lose her, and he has to see her and make it right.

Because that's why Penelope fell for Colin. Not because he's beautiful, not for his charm, not for his family. But for his heart. Because he shows her kindness in a world that so often disregards her. Because he seeks her out and tries to understand her, truly hears what she has to say and compliments her, says he's sorry and looks at things from her perspective.

Because he saw her when she was invisible.

Penelope Featherington, who grew up in a house that made cruel jabs at her, has Colin Bridgerton come to her and say he regrets what he said, and that he was wrong, and that he understands why she's mad at him. Penelope Featherington who has so rarely had much of anyone tell her that they're sorry for what they said about her, sits before Colin Bridgerton as he professes how much she means to him. That he cannot even spend a full day away from her knowing they're on bad terms with each other without making it right. That he sees how she is hurting and he has to in any way he can amend it. She is lonely, with no one really in her corner at the start of season 3, and she feels like she lost it all, and Colin comes to her and says 'no, I'm here and I appreciate you and you are special to me, please let me in and let me prove it'. Is it any wonder why after she shakes his hand, she stands in the sun, and she feels the warmth of it, she can smile? That she can breathe, again? That she can be truly content for the first time in the season?

Because Penelope Featherington does not want Colin to beg. She knows him. She knows the tender, full heart he hides behind the new cavalier persona. She knows the soft underbelly of Colin Bridgerton.

He never had to grovel. All he had to do was love her. Assuredly. Fervently. Loudly. Unapologetically.

And he does.

#polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #bridgerton #sorry y'all i just have a lot of feelings and i need to get them out like they invented love what am i meant to do witH THAT INFORMATION!? #they just care about each other so much and so deeply #and they see the best in each other #penelope was hurt but she never HATED him #penelope was hurt and when she said 'i never thought you of all people could be so cruel' she also knew. . .he isn't #he isn't cruel #he's a young man trying his best in the world and he wanted to fit in and that made him say something hurtful about her #but he has a history of uplifting her #and he continues to do so #not one bad word about penelope all this season #'you are penelope featherington. . .never forget that' (you deserve the world) (you are amazing) #colin bridgerton said 'i love you' over and over this season and in the seasons before but we didn't hear it because we thought #it was only professed in one language #'you really are very good you know that?' 'you only wanted to keep me from heartache' 'what could possibly measure up to all that?' #'that you would never forsake me' 'you are pen. . .you are my friend. . .you do not count' (i could never give you up) #'i will always look after you penelope' #they are friends to lovers but there is love in that friendship #a deep beautiful love they have with each other #and sorry i'm ugly crying but i just adore them

[yesimwriting]

Felix and lovie:

L: but... arent promise rings meant for bfs and gfs?

Felix: i mean, we made the promise to always be close so its our promise ring i think.

L: i guess youre right!

Farleigh: 🧍🏾‍♂️

i want to queue posts before i go on my trip but i also i love instant gratification ahhh

this isn’t exactly promise rings but i think it feels pretty close

His room still smells the same--faint traces of smoke and cologne blending into slightly humid air. You're not sure what you expected. Felix left for a weekend for some family function his mother wanted him to attend. Two days.

Not a significant amount of time. Not enough time to change anything, and yet you felt every second of it. You missed him. Missed him more than you think you'd ever be willing to admit.

"Did you miss me?" There's no way he knows what you were thinking about, but there's something about the slight tilt of his head and his barely there smile.

You hold his gaze for a beat before letting your attention fall to your shoes. "Maybe a little."

Felix's mouth falls open in a mock gasp. "Maybe?" And then, still completely appalled, "A little?"

You press your lips together into a firm line to keep from laughing at his reaction. Felix moves to stand, leaving his bed in favor of approaching you. In an attempt to hold your ground, you cross your arms in front of your chest. Felix disregards your feeble line of defense, continuing forward until you're within easy reach.

"I could say--" Felix places a firm hand on your shoulder. A sound between a laugh and something slightly more panicked tumbles through your sentence. "I could say I missed you a lot, but--" Another hand on your other shoulder, another clumsy laugh. "But I don't need to feed your ego."

He pulls you forward gently until your face hits his chest. You halfheartedly lift your arm in an empty attempt to push him away. You're quicker to embrace defeat, glad for the excuse to be near him, really near him.

You hugged Felix when he first got back to campus, but with his usual crowd all desperate to catch up with him and Farleigh right there, you felt a little more watched than usual. You couldn't do what you really wanted, couldn't take a beat to just absorb Felix's warmth.

"So you were being mean."

You're only half listening, more focused on wrapping your arms around Felix. The scent of his detergent is stronger than usual, nearly obscuring the scent of his cigarettes entirely. Maybe he smoked less this weekend. You try to picture Felix under some kind of authority, sneaking cigarettes out on a patio to avoid upsetting his parents. It's so normal, a part of you regrets not getting to see him like that.

His hand presses against your back. "Lovie?"

You lift your head enough to look at him. "Yeah?"

Felix's eyebrows briefly pull together. He watches you for a moment before grinning. "You missed me."

His smugness has the instinct to protest crawling up your throat, but there's something so content about his expression, you can't bring yourself to deny it the way you usually would. "I missed you. A lot."

Felix's grin broadens. He tilts his head downwards, his lips briefly brushing against your forehead. He straightens before responding, "You could have come with me."

You did meet Felix's sister during your Christmas break trip, and she was really nice, but Felix's world is still something you're vaguely wary of. Maybe you could have come around to the idea of meeting Felix's parents, but the thought of attending some event intended only for his family was a little overwhelming, especially because Felix didn't invite any of his other friends.

"It was a family thing."

Felix lets out a soft sigh. "I brought Farleigh."

"Farleigh's your cousin, he was already invited."

He pulls back slightly, his hands moving away from your back as he lets go of you. "No one cares if you bring a date to those things." It's the same argument he used in an attempt to get you to go with him. "It's to keep the night bearable."

"Bearable?" You beam. "You missed me."

From you, it's an accusation. Felix's eyebrows draw together, like he's unsure why you felt the need to say something so obvious. "I missed you." He shifts back on his heels in a way that borders on uncertain. "So much, I brought you back a present."

You raise your eyebrows at that. Felix is a thorough person. When he gives someone his attention, that person has his entire focus. When Felix gives presents, he tends to be just as generous. It's not a bad thing, but it is something the two of you have talked about. Yes, you're best friends, but that doesn't mean you want Felix splurging on you. Even if it's not splurging to him.

Felix turns, walking towards the bag that he left on his bed. With his back to you, it's a little easier to watch him openly. He went to English countryside for some charity event put on by some cousin. What could he have gotten? "A present?"

He unzips his bag. "Yes," Felix shifts through his close, "A present."

When Felix turns to face you again, there's a something small and square in his hand. The closer Felix gets, the clearer the object becomes. A box that's oddly reminiscent of a jewelry box.

With an abruptness that doesn't seem to suit him, Felix extends his arm to hand you the box. You watch Felix as you take the box, doing your best to decipher his expression. He's strangely blank.

You open the box, revealing a ring safely tucked between cushioned velvet. There's an image carved into the flat face of the ring. The carving of an arrow-pierced hand emerging from a crown is vaguely familiar. You might have cared about placing the image more if the ring was less stunning.

"You um--you wear a lot of rings, so I thought..."

You do wear a lot of rings, there are several on your fingers right now. "It's really pretty."

"My mum was going through some older pieces this weekend and it reminded me of you." The explanation is mumbled cautiously, Felix's attention shifting from you to the ring and then back to you.

Your lips part, an uncertainty you're not accustomed to feeling around him making it hard to speak. You don't know everything about Felix's family history, but you know enough to understand that when he says something from his home is old, he means it.

"Lex." The gesture tugs at a sentimental part of you that exists solely in the pit of your stomach. "That's really sweet, and it's really pretty, but I can't take some family heirloom from you."

His eyebrows pinch together in a way that feels more confused than directly unhappy. "You're not taking it, I'm giving it to you." Felix shifts his weight from one foot to the other. "C'mon, I've got loads of these, it's just been sitting in some closet."

Felix is watching you with wide, almost pleading eyes. You let your gaze fall back onto the ring. With no warning, Felix places a hand over yours. "We'll trade."

You don't fully understand what he's getting at until Felix starts to straighten your fingers. He twists the ring that's on your ring finger. It's a nice ring, a simple band with thin carvings that you picked up at a vintage jewelry shop on a whim, but it's not exactly an even trade.

Felix slides the ring off your finger. A trade is a little easier to accept. The two of you share things like bracelets all the time. "Okay," you pause to take a breath, "But if you ever want it back..."

"Yeah, I know." The words feel like a dismissal. You narrow your eyes briefly, but don't push the subject the way you normally would. You're too happy to see him to care about technicalities.

Felix pulls the ring out of the box and slips onto your finger. You bend your fingers and turn over your hand to get a feel for the ring and its size. It fits. "It's really nice."

"It suits you."

Before Felix can pull your ring onto his finger, you put your hand over his. He lets take your ring from between his fingers. You hold your thumb beneath Felix's palm, the rest of your fingers curling over his knuckles. Felix keeps his fingers straight as you place your own ring on his finger. "There."

Felix grins. "There?"

"Yeah, it's--" You ignore the warmth attempting to make its way up your neck. "It's in place."

He stretches his fingers, studying the way the band looks on him. There's something about his expression you can't quite read, but it doesn't seem unpleasant. He drops his hand before you can attempt to decipher his thoughts any further. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

You drag your thumb against the side of the ring. "Yeah, a movie sounds nice."

----

fun fact the design carved into the ring is supposed to be the catton family crest :)

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey @ilovehyperfixating @aryiannarae @willowpains @ker0senebunny @lilyrachelcassidy @khxna @imbabycowboy

#bestfriend!felix #felix catton x reader #bestfriend!felix x reader #felix catton x you #saltburn x reader #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

[beachy--head]

Drabble time, because one of the thousands reasons I love Japril so much is that they're both equally attracted to each other, even though Jackson is the one always pictured as constantly horny for April (which he is, obviously, but she is as well). So here are our two horny idiots, Boston's style, pre-reunion.

___

Jackson looks hot today.

Which is no mean feat, because those damn Avery-Fox genes always make sure that Jackson Avery looks good every day, but there’s something about the way he looks today that makes April hyper aware of everything he’s doing.

He’s in her office, bringing back some paperwork she had asked him to sign, and she cannot concentrate on a single thing he says. She doesn’t know if it’s the rolled-up sleeves, showing off his forearms, or the way he’s been letting his curls grow lately. If it’s the salt and pepper sprinkled on his stubble, or the way his shirt is tucked in his pants, or the fact that she knows the sound he would make if she’d just trail her hand through his hair and on his neck, and she finds herself blushing. 

She absolutely hates it.

Because she cannot find him hot. Good-looking, yes (she has eyes, after all), but attractive? Attractive is a slippery slope. Attractive would lead to opening a door that she thought was forever closed, and would threaten to destroy everything they've built so far in Boston – the friendly co-parenting, the dropping at each other’s place unannounced for a family dinner, the Saturday afternoons in the park with Harriet, the dance recitals seated next to each other. 

It’s not fair, that she still finds him handsome, when both have moved on (or at least are supposed to). Even more, it’s ironic she has these thoughts about her first ex-husband when she’s supposed to be grieving the second one (in the last six months since she moved to Massachusetts, Matthew has only crossed her mind when she thinks about poor little Ruby, and she cannot even muster the courage to feel bad about it). 

She’s lucky that Jackson gets a call in the middle of his explanations and has to rush out. She’s left to gather herself, and notices that he forgot his jacket in his hurry. She bends to pick it up to hang it so it doesn’t wrinkle, and, after looking left and right to make sure no one’s looking, she buries her nose in it and can’t help but take a sniff. It still smells the same, this infuriating good smell that is not only caused by expensive cologne, and she closes her eyes, assaulted by a thousand memories. 

When she comes back to reality, she shakes her head and walks to the hook behind her office's door, hanging the jacket before she can do something stupid like call him back and kiss him senseless.

__

April is acting weird.

Years of being apart haven’t weakened Jackson’s knowledge of April Elizabeth Kepner, and that’s why he knows something’s up. She hasn’t been looking him in the eye lately, and now he’s in her office, there are other telltale signs that something is up. She’s hiding something from him, and he’s afraid of finding out what.

I hate working for the foundation and Boston is so cold, I wish I never moved here.

Bailey offered me my old job back and I’m moving back to Seattle with Harriet, see you on the weekends.

I made a huge mistake, Matthew is the love of my life and I’m going to Philly so we can have five children and live happily ever after.

He doesn’t know which scenario scares him the most (the third one, definitely), and he wonders if he should simply ask her what’s going on, if she’d open up to him like she used to. They’re great friends again, but nothing more, mostly because he’s afraid it would be greedy to ask for more, when she has already given up so much to follow him here, and he’s afraid to mess this up. 

Lost in his thoughts, he’s reaching for a file, not noticing she’s doing the same, and a jolt of electricity courses through him when their hands accidentally touch. She quickly removes her hand, murmuring a quick word of apology he waves off, but it unnerves him. Does she feel it, too? That can't-bear-not-touching-you thing that used to be theirs? Is something still there, or is it simply a remnant from a past he thinks about way too often?

Later that day, he’s dropping off Harriet at her place for the weekend (though he’s going to see the both of them the next day so they can go roller-skating, so “for the weekend” is a little bit generous), and as he says goodbye, he leans towards her and, in a gesture of habit, almost kisses her. A simple peck, a routine kiss, a “see you later” that usually goes unnoticed (that is, when you’re married to the person in question and kiss her every day). He manages to stop himself before actually doing something, at great cost, because a part of him is ready to kiss her, consequences be damned. He takes a step back, almost ready for April to slap him and slam the door, but then he sees something in her eyes. Something that reminds him of elopements, of Sundays spent in bed, and of a time when from his lips, the phrase “my wife” sounded like he was praying. 

As he leaves her building and starts walking home, he smiles to himself. When he gets home, he opens his laptop and starts looking for the best florist in town, because maybe some things aren’t better left in the past, and like always when it comes to her, he’s ready to go all in.

#drabble #japril #jackson avery #april kepner

[thegreymoon]

The Story of Minglan

Honestly, I don't think any of this was cruel to Wang Ruofu.

First, she backed her sister when she stuffed a concubine into Minglan's house in a clear attempt to shit all over her marriage. Then she poisoned Granny Sheng when she rightfully punished her for it. She deserved both her punishments. In fact, they didn't go far enough, IMO.

***

I cannot anymore with this fucking woman 🙄

Who gives a fuck who gave birth to him? That is his GRANDMOTHER. Whom you tried to POISON. Also, he is a government official, and a moral and sensible man. Him covering up for your crimes would have been a failure on all fronts.

***

No.

Your best hope is that Granny will not live longer than ten more years since she is already quite old. And if she does, that she will have moved over to Minglan's house by then, so that she doesn't have to look at your stupid face every day.

***

And after all this, she still continues to be driven by grudges and resentment.

Of course he will have no love for you. Of course he will try to get some recourse for his dead mother. It's no wonder that none of the illegitimate kids love you because how have you treated them? Certainly not well. You may not have sold them into slavery the way your sister did with the kids in her home, but if it had been up to you, all three of them would have died of neglect and you would not have cared. Changfeng and Molan luckily had their real mother with them until they were grown, and Minglan had Granny. You deserve nothing from any of them.

***

I AM ANNOYED BY YOU!

DOES THAT COUNT? YOU ARE STARTING TO GET ON MY VERY LAST NERVE.

My guy, you cannot force trust and intimacy and yelling at her about it is not helping your case!

I find him so pointless as a male lead. He has not done a single plot-relevant thing since he married Minglan. He just whines and whines about how he's not getting enough attention from her while she goes out and about, making new friends and solving Imperial marriage problems. In this last arc, he just swooped in at the very end to take credit where none is due because of course, the writers couldn't have had Minglan resolve the situation, no, Mr. Feng Shaofeng had to have a place in the spotlight too. After everything she did, right at the end, they made her so bumbling and helpless, so that he could swoop in to rescue her. I'm beyond pissed.

***

LMAO, imagine bringing up Wang Ruofu as a role model for anything.

Shut up, shut up, shut up. This drama was miles and miles better without you looking for trouble where there is none.

***

I am on her side here.

I'm super aroace, though, and I can't stand whiny, needy men encroaching on my space and time, demanding more than I am willing (or able) to give. Seriously, fuck off.

***

LMFAO

Minglan did him the biggest favour.

***

Wait a minute.

Doesn't that make Old Master Kang her grandfather??

Gross.

***

What you don't know and don't want to know not only about your daughter but about your entire family, could fill not just a book, but an entire library.

And she is like this because you are worthless and spineless.

***

LMAO, she read him to filth 🤣🤣

I love her so much! Definitely one of my favourite heroines, if not THE favourite right now!

***

Pathetic.

***

Wait. Her??

Didn't Sheng Hong get rid of all of them?

Also, what happened to her leg? Did she also get caned or tortured or something?

Terrible fate, she had such a comfy life with Concubine Lin for so many years and now she has to do hard labour with no hope for things improving.

***

LMAO, so what?

It's not you who has served three Emperors and it's not your memorial tablet being worshipped in the Imperial ancestral hall.

***

LMAO, that's right Minglan, put them on the spot!

They want you to do their dirty work for them.

***

LMAO, of course, let's change the topic quickly, now that the spotlight is on them.

***

Ah, so all of them are slaves, after all.

MInglan gave her the greatest gift. Her freedom to live as a free citizen. I hope she does the same for the rest of them, if she hasn't already.

#the story of minglan #tsoml spoilers #tsoml ep65

[shawtylike]

i would like it to be known that im half mexican and half salvi and therefore enemies to lovers is literally in my blood

#beep beep #for those that don’t know #mexicans and salvis have a bit of a rivalry i guess #idk why but whenever i tell my mexican friends im half salvi they give me a weird look #and when we went to work salvador to visit my dads town n shit #his friends and family would bring it up every know and then #i didn’t finish my food once and my prima said that made me more mexican than salvi fjfkf

[bronanlynch]

obsessed w the choice to have reinhard & hilda hook up for the first time in the context of. reinhard is having a breakdown over his guilt at the death of his boy best friend like. very heterosexual of him, I'm sure

#also like. it is so funny to me that people ship this as like. them being In Love and fluffy etc etc like. the vibes are extremely Not That #they fuck bc he's having a breakdown. she leaves before he wakes up and looks terrified when he comes to see her #he gave her a military position and wanted to make her prime minister and every time she correctly disagrees with him he hates her for it #she's the closest thing he has to a friend but he can't forgive her for not being kircheis so he marries her instead #he brings flowers bc it's what mittermeyer did bc he's following a script bc he doesn't know how to do any of this #(this being. heterosexuality. having any kind of normal relationships with people. functioning in society) #she canonically doesn't feel like she understands how to be a woman #oh my god are they the 'he's gay she's a lesbian their marriage will change your perception of love' couple #wait no also. his reason for proposing. jesus christ his entire concept of gender & relationships is So shaped by what happened to annerose #he feels obligated to marry her now but also. as if marrying her isn't just another way of trapping her into that kind of role #like she's can't be ur official military advisor or ur prime minister. she has to be Your Wife. and i cannot see her being happy w that #like it would get her what she wants (advancement for her family) but oh my god at what cost #sorry these tags are just. my running commentary of the ep now anyway losing it at reinhard saying “can kircheis forgive me for marrying” #ok i was gonna make fun of him being like “he never got to marry before he died :/” like. i really don't think that was a priority for him #but i do also think given the opportunity he would've married annerose. mediated desire and all that #dreaming.txt #e watches logh