#✧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ ☆ 🤍 ‧₊˚ ⋅ the ash of the home that i started the fire in ⌗ kimberly .

[tvintedspvrkarc]

tag drop : muse tags so far

[jamminvroomvroom]

777.

ln x fem!reader

in which lando has a wild week in vegas

on a bit of a roll whoops! had to write something slutty for vegas week/lando’s birthday so here it is! enjoy my loves and please please pleeeeease tell me what you think! 🎲💘 have literally been thinking about this since vegas was announced and i couldn’t stop listening to silk sonic lol

posting this with the @lavenderlando seal of approval 🫡🤍

inspired loosely by 777 by silk sonic

warnings: 18+ minors dni i am so serious!! listen it’s smut. it’s a lot lot lot of smut. alcohol, swearing, fuckboy!lando, one night stand vibes, choking, unprotected sex, general sex acts, some kinky shit, fluff, minor angst bc lando is a moody little shit

5k words

lando had gotten used to the taste of champagne.

the golden bubbles had grown on him over the course of the season, they tasted like success. so, he didn’t protest when several magnums showed up at the round table, some ridiculous happy birthday remix being blasted over the casino speakers.

it was the night of his 24th birthday, and the drinks hadn’t stopped flowing. he was surrounded by his friends, max and ash joining him, as well as the drivers that had arrived in vegas. the crisp white sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows by now, midnight fast approaching, the material half unbuttoned.

they’d started the night in a bar, drowning in a river of alcohol, and now they were in a casino, one of many on the strip. it was all a bit predictable, kitschy decor everywhere he looked since he’d arrived in las vegas, but that’s what made it iconic. the tackiness seemed to mesh well with the old money vibe, and lando knew this would be a birthday to remember. 


everything was mahogany, gold or red. nothing didn’t twinkle in the lights. his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder, curls messy already from the light breeze of november in the desert. his cheeks were champagne rosy, the alcohol going straight to his head and he felt so fucking good.

everyone toasted to the birthday boy, slot machines rattling in the background. lando didn’t usually enjoy this sort of environment, but he was too drunk to care, deciding to embrace the insanity of his life and live on the edge for one night.

he found himself hunched over a gaming table, fingers drumming against the green felt. his eyes scanned the embroidery, taking in the game that was being played. blackjack, he assumed. this really wasn’t his type of place.

by then, as if by some sort of divine intervention, it was.

a flash of red. a swish of hair. manicured nails on a martini glass.

suddenly blackjack seemed like the best fucking game in the world.

lando couldn’t look away from you.

you were stood right opposite him, drink in hand, red satin draping over every curve of your frame. the dress seemed to cover everything, and nothing at all, perfect for the environment you were in. it was daring, enticing, and lando sure liked being enticed.

from the very second he laid eyes on you, he was picturing what you’d look like against a clean, white bedspread, how his name would sound rolling off your tongue in the form of a desperate whimper. it was a crude thought, but he’d become a crude man.

things had changed a lot since his last breakup. he was messy, leaving a trail of clothes and kisses across every country he stepped foot in. he didn’t get off on the number of people he’d slept with, he got off on the rush of someone new, and he knew before he’d even touched down in vegas, a week earlier than he needed to, that this would probably be the messiest week of his life.

but then he saw you, and it felt weird. he didn’t just want to learn your name and bend you over the nearest surface, gone from your bed before the sun was even in the sky. he was addicted at first sight; he had to take you home, at the very least.

his fixation on you was broken by the dealers voice; it seemed like you were up to play next and you needed at least another player. lando’s eyes flitted back to you, wondering if he even knew how to play blackjack before he offered himself up to you on a glaring shiny platter. you took the decision away from him, because this time, you were staring right back at him.

internally, he was choking on air. externally, he was mentally undressing you with a filthy smirk on his face.

“wanna play, birthday boy?” you smiled coyly, an eyebrow quirked seductively. he could have fallen right to his knees at just the sound of your voice. sweet and spicy.

lando realised that you’d seen the embarrassing display the boys had put on for him. maybe you even knew who he was. he definitely wanted to know who you were, and that’s why he decided to give in to your electric stare.

“you’re on.”

he lost.

every. single. game.

numbers were never lando’s thing.

it was hard to care, though, when he had you sprawled out on the desk of his hotel room, his lips all over your neck.

the walk from the casino up to his room had been short, a bottle of champagne in his left hand and the curve of your ass in his right. there’d been very little small talk, very little convincing needed to seduce you, not with the way you’d been eye-fucking from opposite sides of the table, cards laid bare before you both.

he’d kissed you in the elevator, sloppy and desperate, pressed you against the door to his suite, and quickly pinned you to the other side of it once you were finally inside. you tasted like fruit liquor and cigarettes, your dress slowly bunching at your hips as his hands roamed the silky material. lando was restless, craving everything you had to offer, so he picked you up effortlessly, spreading his palms across the back of your thighs.

it had been a short walk to the desk from the door, and he placed you down carefully. lando slid the dress up your thighs, his finger grazing your calf as he did. you were arching into him, pushing his jacket off his frame and frantically tugging at the buttons of his dress shirt until it was hanging undone off his shoulders.

the look in your eyes sent his blood rushing, frenzied and desperate for him as much as he was for you. taking your jaw in his hand, he tilted your chin towards him until you were looking up at him through your lashes. lando tucked your hair behind your ear, continuing to graze down your neck until he reached the flimsy strap of your dress.

“are you gonna let me have you?” his grip on your jaw tightened and he studied your face.

he gulped when your lips twisted into a smile, conniving, dangerous, red lipstick smudged deliciously. you hadn’t caved into his touch, fallen into submission, and suddenly lando was swimming way out of his depth.

it seemed he’d finally met his match.

you pushed him away, giggling as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, and stood from your place on the desk. slowly, you made your way towards him, until you’d backed him up all the way to the foot of the bed, at which point he collapsed. he scrambled up onto his elbows, smirking up at you.

your eyes raked over his frame, swollen lip caught between your teeth. he looked disheveled in the best way, shirt framing lean sun kissed skin.

slowly, you unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your frame. the material pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it carefully, kicking it away. lando had moved up the bed so that he was sitting against the headboard, watching you hungrily. you were left bare, aside from a lacy thong and red stilettos. lando could have cried tears of joy.

happy fucking birthday.

lando’s eyes lit up like 777 had spun onto a slot machine. he may have lost at blackjack but he’d definitely hit the jackpot.

you crawled onto the bed towards him, not stopping until you were sat on his lap. his hands scaled your thighs, stroking up and down the soft skin. you rolled your hips, experimenting, toying with him, and he groaned, low and loud.

“does this answer your your question?” you whispered, leaning into him so that you could loop your arms around his neck.

lando kissed you, slow and sloppy, sitting up even further just to feel you closer. he could feel your nipples brushing against his bare chest, low whines breaking through the kiss your shared every time you felt too sensitive. your bodies were rolling together in unison, friction building nicely between your legs.

he was growing impatient, itching to get rid of the remaining barriers between you. lando held you still, tight, flipping you both over so that he was hovering over you. his lips worked your neck, hickeys littered down your neck and over your collarbone, while his hands moved down your body. he toyed with the band of your thong, snapping the material against your waist.

lando left you there, keening for his touch, while he peeled his shirt off. his trousers went next, along with his boxers, and then he was right back where he’d left off. your panties disappeared in a flash, his kisses punctuated by a splotchy purple mark sucked below your left breast.

and then he was buried between your legs, licking stripes into you like he was starving. he moaned into your pussy when he felt the first pull on his hair, spurring him on. he applied more pressure, taking it slow, revelling in the way you tugged harder and harder with every swipe. lando slid two fingers through your folds, coating them in your slick.

when he slid the digits inside of you, his mouth latched onto your clit, flicking against it relentlessly. he found the perfect rhythm, balance, everything he was doing made you see stars behind your eyelids. you were thrashing, helpless, and he was getting off on it.

you jaw went slack when you raised yourself onto your elbows just to find him grinding against the mattress, groaning into your cunt at the sensation, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. you couldn’t even hold yourself up then, dropping into the mattress as you fell apart beneath him.

lando resurfaced a few moments later, a glint in his eyes, his mouth glistening in the dim light. your vision was hazy, body shattered, but you ached for more of him. the feeling only intensified, your legs tightening around his waist, when he raised his coated fingers to his lips, lapping up every last drop of you. his tongue swirled around his digits lewdly, and you shuddered.

lando didn’t mind at all when you pushed him onto his back, clambering on top of him. you looked wild, animalistic even, as you guided the tip of his cock through your folds, and he folded his arms behind his head to enjoy the view. once you’d slicked him up, not that he really needed it, you sunk down on him.

fingerprints stained your hips; his grip on you increased tenfold as you adjusted around him, your walls throbbing around his swollen cock. lando sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth, holding you down on him. your movements were stuttering, trying to hold yourself together and ignore the way he fit inside you so damn perfectly. you tested the waters, rolling your hips a few times, and his eyes rolled back in his skull.

you felt heavenly, like velvet and butterflies.

he lost all sense of control, every fibre keeping him from wrecking you. his grip didn’t loosen when he fucked up into you, bending his knees for any extra leverage he could get. your nails scraped down his chest, his abs, dripping at the way he tensed under your touch. you tried your best to keep up with him, to meet his thrusts, holding your own for longer than you thought you would.

and then you were folding, melting into his chest, one of his hands pulling both of your behind your back, holding you down as he fucked you into your orgasm. your whines were panted right into his ear, sending him hurtling towards his own high.

lando couldn’t help himself, spilling into you, your body pressed helplessly into his. you were exhausted, wrecked, grinning lazily against the thrumming of his heartbeat.

with your hands held behind your back, you couldn’t stop him from planting you on your back, snaking down your body, burying his tongue deep inside you. the room was filled with the sound of sex, his tongue dragging over you like you were the last meal on earth and he was ravenous. he cleaned up the mess he’d made quickly, sounds that would make the population of sin city blush bouncing off the walls.

your vision was white, maybe your were screaming, it was hard to know what was going on when he had you about ready to ascend. when you fell over the edge, you were boneless, at one with the bed. you watched as he licked his lips, flopping onto the bed beside you.

he stroked your hair and you hummed, content and satiated.

lando didn’t dare look away from you while you came down.

apparently, it was rare to wake up after a wild night in vegas and remember the events of the night before.

lando remembered everything.

the exact shade of your eyes, the feel of red satin and black lace, the way you tasted.

your lips on his skin, hips in his hands, the way you moulded pliantly to his touch.

the way you gave as good as you got.

he was smiling before he’d even opened his eyes, reaching blinding across the bed, ready to propose round… four? five? lando had lost count.

warm hands met cold sheets and suddenly he was wide awake.

lando sat up dead straight, searching for a sign of life in the room. there was none. no shoes on the floor, no dress to match, no thong hanging from the door handle. a pit formed in his stomach.

is this how he made people feel?

waking up alone after the best sex of his life and no trace of the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on was quite miserable.

he thudded back into the mattress, hands shielding his eyes from the burn of daylight. he felt like shit, that was undeniable. when he’d fallen asleep, naked and with you nestled into his side, he couldn’t wait to wake up, perhaps arrogantly thinking that you’d be waking up with him. what was that saying, again?

hope breeds eternal misery.

his brain was wracked with the image of you and him, champagne flowing right before he’d taken you again, bent over the desk. and then again in the shower, a harmless attempt to clean yourselves up ending up with you on your knees before your cheek was pressed against the shower screen.

lando tried to fathom why you’d leave after the night you’d shared. there was something about it, something more intimate in the desperation you’d shared, that left him senseless as to why you were gone before the sun was in the sky.

just like he usually was.

it dawned on him, quite quickly, that the habits he’d made of quick fucks and fast getaways was not good form. it was reckless and casually cruel, and he felt guilt for the first time since his string of one night stands had begun. perspective was a crazy thing.

when he sluggishly made his way out of bed, he felt even worse.

-

“where’d you get to last night? we lost you after that terrible game of blackjack.” max teased, sipping his coffee.

lando found himself at the breakfast table, head rested on his hand and hoodie pulled tight. he wasn’t in the mood to talk, but max was like a dog with a bone; there was no avoiding this conversation.

“met a girl.” lando mumbled, aimlessly stirring the tea he knew he wasn’t going to drink.

“ah, understood.” max said, grinning knowingly. but then, as if lando’s bad mood finally clicked, he continued. “wait, why are you in a mood then?”

“tired.” lando replied, monotonously. he wasn’t quite sure how to unpack this one.

“bullshit.”

“woke up alone.”

“oh.”

“she was- i don’t know. just thought it would be different, that’s all.” lando couldn’t disguise the deflated tone of his voice.

“don’t tell me you caught feelings from a shag.” max rolled his eyes, chomping away at his toast. lando could barely stomach the sight of food.

“shut up, i’m not saying i fell in love. just liked something about her.”

“well, anything can happen in vegas. you never know, mate. she might find her way back to you.”

lando was getting ready for the netflix cup before he knew it. he’d managed to shake off max, escaping to the darkness of his room, the curtains drawn and the lights off.

he pretended it was the hangover that had him laying face down on his bed.

the last thing he wanted was to go and play corporate circus on the golfing green, but he figured some fresh air wouldn’t hurt. and so, he was in the backseat of a car well on his way to the tournament.

carlos couldn’t distract him, neither could alex or pierre. rickie fowler was much less interesting that he hoped, or maybe he wasn’t and lando just wasn’t interested enough. not even zak’s mclaren printed trousers could cheer him up.

lando was leaning into his golf club, starting mindlessly into the crowd, waiting for this garish event to begin when he caught a glimpse of someone he recognised. in a sea of influencers and obnoxious businessmen, there you were.

there you fucking were, in your knee high boots and a mini skirt, sunglasses perched on your nose, skintight top under an oversized blazer and hair shining under the warm sunlight. he lost his balance, the golf club slipping from underneath him, and the only thing that kept him upright was the burning urge to keep his eyes on you.

just who were you?

lando didn’t need to clarify whether or not you were looking at him, too. no, you made it abundantly clear by the way you winked at him, before pushing your sunglasses back up the bridge of your nose.

you fucking winked.

he took a step in your direction, shaky legs ready to carry him all the way over to you. he only had your first name and he craved your second, your phone number, anything really. he’d just take the small talk, to be completely honest.

but then the klaxon screeched, knocking him out of his trance and he whipped round to discover that they were ready to tee off. lando cursed under his breath, rapidly turning to search for your face but you were nowhere to be seen.

had he imagined you? had he imagined all of it?

every golf ball hit was hit with frustrated vengeance.

the week disappeared in a bittersweet blur.

lando had achieved multiple hangovers and about zero dollars in winnings, but he’d successfully managed to take his mind off of you.

okay, so that was a bare faced lie, but if lando didn’t lie to himself, he wouldn’t be able to lie to anyone else.

he wouldn’t be able to lie to max that he was no longer moping. he wouldn’t be able to lie to the media when they asked him if he was oh so excited about the race. he wouldn’t be able to lie to his team when they asked him if he was still suffering the consequences of his week long hangover.

lando had been rushing around all day, after a solid p4 in qualifying the night before. the entire day had been horrendous, sequins and bright lights being shone in his eyes. all he wanted to do was hide, get in the car and then go to bed.

fate had other plans.

lando was rushing to the front of the grid for the national anthem, certain that whatever display that was about to occur would make him nauseous. he was derailed on his journey, caught by rachel brookes in the pitlane, and then accosted by martin brundle once he’d made his was onto the grid.

“good qualifying yesterday and good luck today!” martin called to lando, turning to wrestle another insufferable celebrity.

as lando was making his getaway, ready to jog through the masses of people to his place at the front, he went barrelling into another body, putting his hands out to steady himself and the poor person that had become his collateral damage. as he regained his balance, he must have looked like a cartoon character, eyes bulging out of his head.

“are you stalking me?” was all he could choke out when his eyes met yours.

what the actual fuck were you doing here?

lando had given up on the possibility of ever seeing you again, and yet, here you were, stood under the bright floodlights on the grid, his office. this was the last place he’d expected you to show up, paddock pass swinging from your neck. again, what the actual fuck were you doing here?

“might as well be, at this point.” you teased. “hopefully you’ll do better today than you did at golf on tuesday.” you smiled coyly up at him, tucking your hair behind your ear.

lando was on quite the time crunch, glancing at the time on the clock at the front of the grid. he had a minute to spare, if he was lucky, but he had to talk to you, before you inevitably disappeared again.

“thought i’d get at least your phone number before you left.”

“from what i hear, you don’t usually stick around long enough for those.” you smirked.

well, his reputation certainly proceeded him. he couldn’t really argue with that.

“maybe i’m trying to change that.” lando attempted to flirt but really, he sounded desperate. you didn’t seem to mind.

“i’ll make you a deal,” you proposed, leaning in just a little bit closer. lando’s breath hitched in his throat. “get on that podium, and i’ll be waiting in your hotel lobby.”

“and if i don’t?” lando’s mouth was dry.

“maybe i’ll see you next year.”

lando watched you walk away, your hips swaying tantalisingly, wondering if the hefty fine he would be bollocked with would be worth it if he didn’t move his ass for the national anthem.

this would be the drive of his fucking life.

lando couldn’t recall a time he’d left a track faster in his life.

media duties were rushed, so was the shower he had before he fled. it was lucky he was already on the strip, so the walk to his hotel was blissfully short.

he entered the lobby with a shit eating grin and a comically large bottle of champagne in hand.

a string of second places had gotten rather frustrating, but this one felt particularly good. a podium was a podium, fair and square, and assuming you’d kept to your end of the bargain, he was in for the best celebration of his life.

sitting pretty at the bar that stretched through the lobby, you were waiting for him, heels swinging from the stool you rested on. denim clung to your hips, a dark corset style top moulding to your curves. he wondered if love at first sight was real; lust at first sight certainly was.

lando’s eyes beckoned to towards him, and you slipped inconspicuously into the elevator together, not wanting to draw too much attention to your rendezvous. it was a futile attempt, frankly, because he had you backed into the mirror before the doors had even fully shut.

kisses on your neck had your eyes fluttering closed, one of his knees slotting comfortably between your thighs. one of his hands was clasped tight around the neck of the neck of the bottle, giving lando the fantastic idea to find your neck with his free one. he held you firmly, forcing you to look at him.

“i’m gonna make you wish you never left.”

-

hours on the mattress pulling countless orgasms from one another left you both weak, exhausted, a little bit clingy.

lando felt electric. no other person had ever left him so feral, so euphoric.

he’d had you first against the door, pulling your jeans off and pinning you against it, your thighs in his firm grasp as he fucked you into the wooden panel. then, he’d taken you to bed, your knuckles turning white from your brutal grip on the headboard when he’d planted you down on his mouth. two orgasms later, you were face down in the sheets, ass in the air for him while he slammed into you like his life depended on it, pulling you into his chest by your hair when you reached your climaxes.

all that hard work called for a bath, where you both found yourselves now. it had started off quite innocently, sat at opposite ends of the extravagantly large bathtub amongst the bubbles. but then you’d given him those eyes, and then your back was pressed against his chest, your body draped over his. his head was nestled into the crook of your neck, one arm slung over your waist. his other hand brought the bottle of champagne to his lips, the liquid going down smoothly. lando pressed the bottle to your pursed lips too, trading backwards and forwards while your bodies relaxed into the hot water.

lando’s hand on your waist was getting restless, fingers drumming over your abdomen, up, up, up, until he found your breast. he circled your nipple with his finger, not quite touching the bud yet, but he could feel it hardening from his scarce touch. your hips rolled backwards into his, feeling him hardening once again against your lower back. lando cupped your breast, massaging it in his hands before he switched, flitting between your tits.

you slumped somehow even further into him, not a millimetre of space between your bodies. he was winding you up beautifully, heat burning between your legs once more. you didn’t know how you did it, how you could be so ready for each other after the eventful evening you’d already shared.

lando was flicking your nipples between his finger, switching back and fourth until you were moaning quietly. you took charge, the sensitivity building too quickly, and so you rolled over in his arms, clambering into his lap.

the bath water splashed around you, moving in small waves across the tub as you situated yourself on top of him, grinding down on him until he was buried deep within your walls. he found that spot, rolling your hips against his, and then you were rocking up and down on him, nice and slow. he touched parts of you that never had been before, the pace and the angle intensifying every little sensation. your head was thrown back, hands clawing at his shoulders for something to hold onto, just for the feel of him.

lando reached over the edge of the bathtub, blindly searching for the bottle he’d discarded while you’d been switching positions. he felt the green glass grazing his fingertips and brought it back to his lips, eyes trailing over your body in sheer awe.

he couldn’t help himself, taking a sip before tilting it towards you, pouring the golden bubbles over your clavicle, jaw tightening - just like your cunt did at the sensation - as he watched the sticky alcohol drip down over the curve of your bouncing breasts.

you quivered when you felt his tongue lap over your nipple, then the other, dragging over your sodden flesh until he reached the junction between your neck and your shoulder. he bit down, hard, eyes rolling back at the taste in his mouth and the way you clamped down around him, whimpering out between breathless pants.

lando felt you let go, stuttering on his cock and sinking down on top of him, the water - now lukewarm - soothing your tired limbs. he held you close, basking in the intimacy of the moment, his hearing honing in on the dull hum of ecstasy you expelled.

the bath grew colder and colder as you sat there, comfortable silence filling the air along with the quiet rush of water that came with any movements made. when the time came, lando held you up as you got off of him and stepped onto the plush rug, quickly following suit. you were eyeing the shower when he turned to hand you a towel.

“i think i need a shower, as much as i enjoyed the bath.” you spoke, opening the screen and stepping in to adjust the knobs.

lando weighed up his options, agonising over joining you or doing his back in. he couldn’t exactly tell his trainer that his back gave out from too much sex.

“am i invited?” lando asked, stepping in behind you, hands on your waist.

“seems like you’ve already invited yourself.” you teased, looking at him over your shoulder.

“no funny business, you.” lando rested his head on your shoulder.

“from me? you’re just as bad.” you quipped, letting the hot warm stream all over your flushed bodies.

lando stayed as he was for a second, but then you turned your head again, looking at him from the corner of your eye and he needed to kiss you. he couldn’t help but, and so he twisted you round to face him and leaned in. you were more than receptive, fingers raking through his wet curls.

the hot water rained down on you while you stood there, holding each other close. lando couldn’t put his finger on it, why he didn’t want to let you go. he couldn’t even begin to process the idea of having anyone else in his arms like this. it was absurd, really, but he was too caught up in the moment to care.

when you were both clean and dry, you laid down in bed, gazing mindlessly at one another. his eyes followed the lines of your face, the curve of your lips. he learned a lot about you, a formula 1 fan with who ran her own business and took herself on holiday to vegas. the conversation flowed like the champagne had and you were laughing at all his stupid jokes. in turn he grinned like a fool at your quick wit, the sound of your laughter.

“so what are you doing next? back to work?” lando asked, an idea forming in his mind like a tornado.

“nope,” you popped the p. “giving myself some well deserved time off.”

“have you ever been to abu dhabi?” lando asked, lips quirking mischievously.

-

inbox me your thoughts bc aaaaaaaa 😨😨

-

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[madwomansapologist]

i gotta say, your gomez/morticia/reader work is just soooooooo *chef's kiss* it's honestly some of my favourite poly works because it's so fluffy but so THEM. might i request some headcanons of how the poly relationship starts, with all the angst and yearning that entails? ��

meeting the Addams

Masterlist | Rules | Taglist | Library | More Gomez and Morticia Addams | AO3

synopsis: Didn't you knew that the best place to find love is in a cemetery? You live under a rock or what?

warnings: if only they loved me back (reader) x why do I love they? (morticia and gomez). read this listening to bad kind of butterflies by Camila Cabello. a lot of jealousy (we all love that lets be real). i want a relationship like this (reader) to i want to be in this relationship (reader).

ps: that ask made me so happy (((: i spend a lot of time on their stories because i want it to feel like their stories made me feel, so thank you for that compliment 🥺🤍

• A storm as strong as that hasn't happened in years. Trees were falling, blocking the streets. That night, as dark as the immense chaos, just keep on shuddering with thunders. And it was so cold. They could feel it on their bones. In short: it was the perfect night.

• Seeing how Morticia was sinking into worries about their children, Gomez couldn't just observe that perfect landscape. Kissing her body, making her melt into his arms, Gomez invited Morticia to a walk in the cemetery.

• What they couldn't expect was to found someone else there. Walking through the lanes, a lighting lit a silhouette among the ash trees. Someone was dancing on a grave.

• They couldn't help but to stare. The delicate movements, full of feelings, hypnotized them. Gomez took Morticia into his arms, trying to start a waltz, but she didn't payed attention. Morticia only had eyes for that person, and without noticing she started walking towards the anonymous dancer.

• Gomez followed her, a hint of jealousy spreading through his body.

Gomez hold Morticia's waist, stroking gently her skin. His eyes were already accustomed to darkness, so Gomez was able to read the name carved on the tomb. "Was he your nemesis?"

Interrupted, you stopped dancing. Morticia was disappointed, she enjoyed watching you. Sliding your hands through your hair, the rain had already drenched you, you walked through them. Your sweet scent didn't go unnoticed. "He was one of my dearest friends."

Gomez felt his heart race at the asnwer. He followed your steps with his eyes until you were far enough to camouflage among the ash trees. That didn't go unnoticed by Morticia's eyes.

• The next time they saw you was a few days later. A old house on the end of the street, empty since way before they bought their home, was finally sold. Some workers were tooking the furniture out of the truck.

• As good neighboors, Morticia and Gomez decided to welcome the new resident. But when they heard a voice commanding where everything should be, they immediately knew who was their new neighboor.

• Nothing weird was said (unless you were a commom person, but for the three of them it was just a normal conversation) but Gomez felt something strange the entire. The way Morticia look at you, the words she used, it just feels so similiar to how she act around him when they first meet. Gomez was polite, but he wasn't comfortable.

• Morticia couldn't understand why Gomez was uncomfortable. She didn't do anything wrong. Of course, now that Morticia knows that he is jealous she won't be around you, thats not the way she like to torture him, but she still couldn't understand. She was behaving as she always do, he was the one acting weird.

• But it wasn't a big city. Of course they would see you anywhere. And they saw how you were treated just like them. You were so lovely, so polite, so beautiful and gentle, and people still look at you and thought you were mean. They know how it feel to have boring people thinking they didn't deserve to be treated with respect.

• Gomez said to Morticia that you were welcome in their house. Morticia knew that if at the start it was so uncomfortable to him that he asked for her to stop talking to you, something really changed. What it was? Did he realized he was being a fool? Did his opinion about you changed? And for what? Why?

• Spending time with you, they saw who you really are. Not short and polite conversations, not hearing you talking to others because you were at the same place, or just observing you from far away. The both of they saw you. Your strong morals, your opinions on important matters (like the dark forces and the hellish cruzade), your humor.

• And then Morticia understood why Gomez was so uncomfortable at the start. He saw something she didn't. You were... Perfect. You love raining days. And dancing. And fighting. And you didn't mask your inteligence. The way you were gentle with people that wouldn't offer you water. See? Even your flaws seeing perfect.

• Morticia understood Gomez, because now she felt the same. You were so sweet. You could be mean, she know that, but nothing comparable to her. And Gomez didn't deserve someone kind? Gomez is his favorite person in the whole world, but what if he deserve more than her? One time, during a ball, she saw you both dancing. And it feels like the world had ended and you both didn't care.

• And even tho Gomez tried to be the bigger person, he couldn't just stop himself from feeling. Everytime you were around Morticia... you both seen made to one another. Morticia is a goddess, a being deserving of the best the world has, and you are perfect. How could he compete with you?

• After a brutal night, a night when Morticia was like a cruel animal, Gomez woke up after her. It wasn't commom for that to happen. Looking for her, Gomez only found Morticia in the greenhouse. And he saw her reaping a different flower. And she didn't cut their heads. It wasn't for him, and he knew for who it was.

• But it wasn't easy for you. They were so... familiar. You didn't knew then for that long of a time and it still feel like you knew them for your entire live. They were so kind, and fun, and charming. What a dream to have a relationship like that.

• But as it goes, you realized that you didn't want a relationship like that. You wanted to be in that relationship. What kinda of person fall in love with a married couple? Morticia would laugh if she knew you thought that. Of, fuck. You need to stop thinking about them.

• But how could you? They were your neighboors, your friends. They made you feel seen. You would never act on this love. They were your friends and you would try to mess with that relationship? You knew what to do: you would pretend to not feel a single thing a friend shouldn't be feeling. Simple.

• But another storm, just as a strong as the last, Interrupted you three. Inside your house when you heard the first thunder, you couldn't help your body from running to the middle of the street to enjoy the rain.

Watching you from a window, Gomez and Morticia didn't mean to say the same thing: "Everything they do remind me of you."

"What?" Morticia was the first to say something. "How could you?"

"I can see your bravery. And your humor, cara mia. Everytime they are gentle, all I can do is think about how you deserve someone like that."

"Oh, Gomez." Morticia caress his chest, hugging him slowly. "I already have someone like that. And he is right in front of me." She waited a second before puting her thoughts into words. "But I think the same."

"Oh, how I wish you were a liar."

"No, mon cher. I think you deserve more than me. I was never a kind person. You deserve someone that only hurt you on the ways that matters."

With a loud laugh, Gomez started kissing her whole body. Morticia laughed, how could she not? She married a crazy mean. What a luck. "And what do you think you are? What do you think you do to me? Since the first time I ever saw you, I knew you would be the reason of my death."

Looking at the window, they both understood what was happening to them. "The last time I meet someone that hurted me so bad... I married him."

And without any more words, they knew what to do. For now, all they needed to do was to dance. In the middle of the night. In the middle of the street. In the middle of the rain.

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[thatstrangegiiirrlll]

I Love You, now Fuck Me

Nijiro x Female reader(requested)

Summary: Nijiro is driving you home from a successful date. During the drive, a confession of love leads to intimacy.

Includes: shy, needy nijiro, dry humping in the car, some fluffy, corny love 🤍

Also I don’t know who the girl is in the picture! I just thought she was really pretty when I came across her on Pinterest, hehe. U all r free to picture whoever u like for this imagine/story. — Ash <3

“I love spending time with you, y/n,” Nijiro speaks, stealing a glance at you. He unlocks the doors to his car and opens the door for you.

You smile at his words and turn to him. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him in for a French kiss. You can't lie; you never want your dates with Nijiro to end. But you understand that you both have lives. Too bad you're not conjoined at the hip because you hate being away from your baby.

On the way to your home, you can't resist the urge to analyze him as he drives: his jawline, nose, his gorgeous eyes, and eyelashes, those soft lips...just all of it. Not only is he beautiful, but so is his heart. You love him and you're not ashamed of that.

“Nijiro,” you utter, now turned to face him in your seat.

“Yes, baby?” He replies, taking a swift look at you.

You blink at him slowly with little to no hesitation in your voice as you say, “I love you.”

He sits up in his seat, looking twice from you and the street ahead in astonishment. “Really?”

You nod, eyes fixated on him like a hawk. His mannerisms are telling you he's uncertain, and that makes you uneasy.

“Y/n... I-”

“Fuck,” you say, the panic exploding in the pit of your stomach. It doesn't take a genius to read the room, or in your case, the car. You've made him uncomfortable. “Just forget it.”

His face saddens and he grips the steering wheel anxiously. “Please don't be upset. You know I care about you I just-”

“Nijiro, drop it, okay?” You interject, feeling as though you could crawl out of your skin. You know it's not fair to be upset at him - saying that is a big deal. Still, the way it makes you feel stings like hell.

You hear him sigh quietly, his face turning red. You dread the remainder of this awkward car ride.

He pulls into your apartment complex and puts the car in park. You grab your bag and open the car door hastily.

“Y/n, wait, please?” He pleads, gently grabbing your arm.

You decide to bite back your pride and hear him out. It's only right to do so.

Closing the door back up, you stare ahead, waiting for him to speak.

“I'm sorry for the way I reacted,” he starts, eyes soft and low as he looks at you. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”

“I know.” You keep your eyes facing forward, too stubborn to face him. “I know, Nijiro. But why? Do you not love me back?”

He keeps his hands together, placing them tightly in his lap. “I do, y/n... I’m just scared.”

You uncross your arms and turn your head to look at him. He has his head down, fidgeting around with his fingers.

“Nijiro,” you say, a soft smile on your lips. “What is there to be scared of, baby?”

When he looks at you and sees your welcoming expression, his body relaxes. “I'm just worried you won't like me anymore. What if my love is too much for you, and you become sick of me?”

You feel your throat get tight when he says this. You had no idea he even felt this way.

“Sick of you?” You repeat, grabbing his face with both hands. “Nijiro, I can't get enough of you. So don't ever think that, okay?”

His cheeks burn as he nods. “Fuck, this is embarrassing.”

“Stop it,” you tell him, sliding over onto his lap. You let your weight fall into his pelvic bone, arms on either side of his head behind the seat. “Nothing about you is embarrassing. Everything you feel is okay. Even loving me, because I love you back.”

His warm hands rest on your sides and he kisses you. “I love you, too. I love you more.”

You smile scrunching your nose in amusement at his response. All this loving and vulnerable energy is driving you wild. And it doesn't help that you feel Nijiro's hard length under your skirt.

His eyes scan you up and down, a twinge of darkness present in them. Oh? So, that's how you feel?

You let his seat back a little, watching as he lulls his head to either side. You slide your hands down his torso and to his erection through his jeans. You sit back on top of it, your skirt sliding up and revealing your underwear.

Nijiro holds your waist as you start to roll your hips into him. You feel his dick start to get even harder as you grind, your clit striking it every damn time.

“Shit,” you hiss, grabbing hold of the seat. Nijiro helps himself in grinding back onto you. The friction from his jeans sends sparkles up your spine. He throws back his head, closing his eyes tight as he enjoys the ride.

“That feels so fucking good,” he purrs, hand sliding under your blouse. He massages your breast, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. “I'm so close.”

Your hand slaps against the door's window when Nijiro rubs both your breasts. You get the perfect move of your hips down, the angle pressing precisely where you need it to.

Your pussy is so wet it's nearly numbing, but you continue. Your orgasm is so close you can taste it.

“Just a bit more,” you croak, throat parched and dry as you try to breathe.

Nijiro pulls you down to him in the seat, grabbing your ass as you ride him hard and fast. Within seconds, you cum, lips hanging right over his ear. Your gasps are uncontrolled and intense. It's pretty difficult to come down from an orgasm that hard.

Pushing out a few more thrusts, Nijiro makes his way to his orgasm. His body goes still for a moment before he groans and breathes. You love hearing his sounds when he cums.

He blushes when he notices you watching him orgasm. “This underwear is destroyed,” he says, shaking his head. You can only imagine the wet explosion beneath his pants.

“That's yummy,” you reply, kissing him everywhere on his cherry-colored face.

He chuckles and rubs his thumbs over your tummy. “Wanna spend the night at my place?”

You smile hard when he offers this. “Hell yeah, I do. Let's go.”

🤍💕🤍💕🤍💕🤍💕🤍💕🤍💕🤍💕🤍💕

[myrequestblog]

Request Rules and My Favorite Characters

I can do other characters, but if you don’t specify which characters you want I will choose from these

Undertale AUs:

Classic

Swap

Fell

Nightmare

Dream

Ink

Error

Geno

Reaper

Fresh

Paperjam

Fellswap

Swapfell

Horror

G

Mafiafell (Sooner or Later You’re Gonna Be Mine)

Grillby AUs

Gaster AUs

Flowey AUs

FNaF DCA:

Sun

Moon

Eclipse

City of Blank:

Jericho

Claude (I will only write gay headcannons for him. Sorrynotsorry)

Rex

Black Butler:

I refuse to do Ciel or Alois, unless the reader is of similar age

Sebastian

Grell

Undertaker

Madam Red

Jujutsu Kaisen:

Gojo

Yuji

Maki

Geto

Mahito (He’s an jack@$$ and I hate what he did but he’s hot)

Sukuna

Toji

That one white and blue curse that almost killed Yuji, and that I’ve decided to call ‘Akuma’ (Mostly platonic and/or pet-owner type relationships (Keyword ‘mostly’))

Hunter X Hunter:

I refuse to do Gon or Killua, unless the reader is of similar age

Hisoka

Illumi

Chrollo

Demon Slayer:

(I refuse to do any minors x reader, unless the reader is of similar age)

Kagaya (Platonic/parental only)

Giyu

Shinobu

Rengoku

Mitsuri and Obanai (All headcannons with these two are gonna be poly)

Muchiro (Parental/fraternal/platonic only)(He’s a minor)

Uzui

Muzan

Rui (Parental/fraternal/platonic only)(Minor technically)

All upper ranks aside from 4 and 5

Enmu

Sabito

Senjuro

Dummy’s Dummy:

Paris

The Lalah twins

Polakov (We’ve been conditioned to hate him and have no major reason to actually dislike him. It aint his fault he’s like this. Blame Ivan.)

Ivan

The Toy Soldier

Creepypasta:

Slenderman

Splendorman

Offenderman

Jeff the Killer

Jane the Killer

Eyeless Jack

Laughing Jack (Mainly gay headcannons for him)

Candypop

Ticci Toby

Masky and Hoodie (All headcannons with these two are gonna be poly)

Jason the Toymaker

Ben Drowned

Lost Silver

Zalgo

Evil

John Doe:

John Doe

House Hunted:

Maison

Yandere Simulator:

Yan-Chan

Rivals

Senpai

Gaster Gang:

Wingdings

Swap

Fell

Stars

Blindy

Swapfell

The void anomalies (Pet-owner relationships only)

Welcome Home Wally AUs:

Wally Darling

Reboot Wally

Lovesick Wally

Watcher Wally

Rainbow Factory Wally

Opposite Wally

Mob+Mafia Wallys

Other Wally AUs

Sally Face:

Sal/Sally Face

Larry

Ash

Trevor

Fran Bow:

Only platonic etc. relationships

Fran Bow

Mr Midknight

Itward

Deltarune:

Kris

Ralsei

Suzie and Noelle (Only lesbian poly for them, sorry)

Ralsei

Jevil

The Amulet Series:

Trellis

Emily

Gabilan

Max

Misket

Riva

Leon

SCP:

(Too many to say, but to start with-)

The indestructible lizard

The plague doctor

SCP-914 "The Clockwork Machine"

The shy guy

"God"

Doctor Bright

Able

A LOT more

Hazbin Hotel:

Charlie and Vaggie (Only romantic options for them is lesbian poly)

Alastor (Platonic, parental, friendship only. I’m sticking with the cannon that he is AroAce. Sorry 😅)

Angel and Husk (Gay poly is the only romantic options here. If u don’t like it, just keep it to yourself.)

Vox

Valentinto (He’s the worst person in existence but he’s damn sexy (unfortunately). We can all agree on that. I won’t make my bias against him known in the requests, I promise.)

Velvette

Lucifer

Adam (Because some people like him🤷 )

Rosie

Lute

Lilith (Or my depiction of her)

Carmilla

Zestial

Sera

Able (Or my depiction of him)

Wicked:

Elpheba

Gelenda/Glenda

Feyaro

Dr.Dillimin (Platonic/adopted child/friendship relationships only because of the obvious 🐐 )

Homicipher:

Mr.Crawling

Mr.Scarletella

If you have headcanons to ask for but don’t have anything specific in mind, use some emojis:

🥰 Fluff

🥀 Angst

🔞 Smut (Smut will be kept private unless the asker wishes to share)

😎 Chaos

🤩 Reader has powers/magic

🥳 Birthday Ask

🤕 Injured Reader

🤒 Sick Reader

🙅 Platonic

🫀 Yandere

🪢 Soulmate AU

🏳️‍��� LGBTQ

🐣 Reader is a Child

😺 animal or animal-related reader

👾 IRL reader

⚙ Using SCP-914

❤️/🧡/💛/💚/💙/💜/🖤/🤍 Reader Has a Specific Soul Color

💀 Undertale

🌓 DCA

👤 City of Blank

🤵‍♂️ Black Butler

👻Jujutsu Kaisen

🪪 Hunter X Hunter

🗡️ Demon Slayer

🪡 Dummy’s Dummy

🔪 Creepypasta

👁️ John Doe

🏚️ House Hunted

💘 Yandere Simulator

🕳️ Gaster Gang

🎨 Welcome Home Wally AUs

🏡 Welcome Home

🎭 Sally Face

👧 Fran Bow

⚜️ Deltarune

📿 Amulet

❓ SCP

😈 Hazbin Hotel

👹 Homicipher

🪄 Harry Potter

🧙‍♀️ Wicked

(Example: 🐣+😎+👤 would be ‘Young reader causing chaos in the City of Blank’)

✅✅✅:

Fluff

Suggestive ideas or themes

Platonic Child X Parental figure

OC X Character

Fandom Crossovers

Yanderes

Character X Pregnant!Reader

Homosexuality

Heterosexuality

Polyamory

Depression

Anxiety

Mental Illnesses

Black Lives Matter

Any and all religious beliefs are welcome, however I know very little about most religions, so please be gentle with me

Death

Dealing with death

Pain (physical or emotional)

Injuries

Traumatic accidents or happenings

Bad parenting

Memes

Vines

Puns

Commented ideas

Suggestive

Having characters avoid their cannon death

Nicknames for characters

Furry-related content

Trans reader

Gay reader

Lesbian reader

Bi reader

Pan reader

LGBTQ readers welcome

Readers and characters with different nationalities

Readers and characters with different skin tones

Readers and characters who speak other languages

Readers and characters who are different species

Readers and characters with disabilities

Readers and characters with autism

Readers and characters with mental abnormalities

Readers and characters with physical abnormalities

Readers and characters with physical ailments

Readers and characters with varying levels of intelligence

Readers and characters with trauma

Readers and characters with conditions like vitiligo

Readers and characters who need things like a cane, a wheelchair, or limb braces

Young reader

Pyrotechnics ❤️‍🔥

Fandom crossovers (Highly encouraged for SCP ideas)

Age regression

Settings in different countries and continents

Truth or dare

❌❌❌:

Pedophillia

Necrophillia (Unless the person who is ‘dead’ becomes ‘the walking dead and can give permission’)

Power plays (unless sexual and with permission from the partner)

Sexual assault or r@p3

Homophobia

Transphobia

(What’s another phobia- we don’t like spiders either. Spiders are ugly)

Rac*sm

Abuse of any kind, unless part of and/or needed for a backstory or something

Politics

Hate crimes

Alcoholism

Drugs

Human trafficking

Child abuse

Underage drinking

Death of major characters

Death of comfort characters

Slurs

Smut (Suggestive stuff is a yes but a no on smut. Sorry peeps)

This account is SPECIFICALLY for requests.

ALL OF THIS IS COMPLETELY FREE!

Most of these will be in headcannon form or incorrect quotes but feel free to ask for something different!

I often update this post so remember to check every once and awhile.

If you have questions or concerns, let me know!

Main blog:

[hockeyboysimagines]

Somewhere only we know

A one shot

Something fun about Mat and Leighton. A lot of people seem to like reading about them so I put this together. I didn’t write about when she turned down his proposal, or any of the flashbacks in Ashes and Wine. All new material for you. Hope you enjoy🤍

Leighton tapped her pencil against her notebook and glanced at the clock. There was still 10 minutes of class left and her teacher had been droning on and on about algebra and she just didn’t care.

It was a rainy, windy Wednesday and she was ready for school to end so she could go home. She glanced out the window, and then turned when she felt a pair of eyes on her. The boy who sat three seats behind her in the next row was looking at her.

She’d never actually spoken to him but she knew vaguely who he was. He was extremely handsome, beautiful even she thought as she really looked at his face, and settled on his eyes. They were a warm shade of hazel, fringed in dark eyelashes. She stared at him for a second before she smiled and then turned back to her teacher.

She didn’t really know anything about him, not even his name, except that he wasn’t from Covington like everyone else. Kentwood was big, but not that big. The minute he’d arrived girls had been all over him, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He was storybook handsome, tall with a shock of dark hair, it was easy to see the appeal. Even she had been mildly interested but she wouldn’t fight the girls at school.

Now her best friend, Ginny might have and if she really wanted him the others would stand no chance. Ginny was the It girl, both at school and in town. Her long red hair, and her charm had broken many many hearts, and boys had literally fought over her a time or two. But to her knowledge Ginny never showed any interest in him.

Ginny herself was waiting for Leighton at her locker, long red hair pulled up in a ponytail. When she saw her she smiled.

“Hey? Do you wanna do homework tonight?”

“Sure.” Leighton turned to put her books in her locker and saw the boy from her Math class passing her. She locked eyes with him for a second before she turned to look at Ginny.

“Do you know him?” She said nodding in his direction as he made his way down the hall and turned the corner.

“Not really. He’s in my History class. I think his names Mat or Mike or something. Shannon always tries to flirt with him and he always ignores her.”

“Hmmm.”

“Why? Have a crush?” Ginny waggled her eyebrows and Leighton waved her off.

“No. Just curious is all. He sits behind me and I realized I don’t even know him. He’s cute though.”

Ginny nodded “He is. Anyways, meet me by my locker and we’ll walk out together. See you in an hour.” She called as the bell rang.

**********

“Hi.” Ginny said smiling as he sat down across from her in the library “I’m Ginny.”

“Yeah I know. Mat.” He pulled out his notebook and a pen and looked at her. He’d heard her name a thousand times since he’d started school. There wasn’t a single guy on his team who hadn’t asked her out at least once, and she hadn’t said yes to any of them. But what he did know about her, was she was friends with Leighton, the girl he’d been drooling over in Math. By fate they’d been paired together on a history project, which gave him an in to find out some more about what he thought was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. As they chit chatted about their history project, Mat found that she was extremely easy to talk to, and decided to approach the subject.

“So your friend, the blonde…she’s in my math class I think?” He tried to phrase it like a question, but as it came out of his mouth he realized how awkward he sounded.

Ginny stopped writing and her eyes moved slowly up, before a small smile spread across her face “Leighton?”

“Mhmmm.” Mat said not meeting her eye. He didn’t wanna give himself away so he continued to write in his notebook.

“And you’re telling me this for-?”

“No reason, I uh-just making, you know. Conversation.”

She was quiet before she started to laugh “Conversation? That’s the lamest line I’ve ever heard and I’ve heard a lot.”

She was smiling widely, large white teeth on full display before she pushed her hair over her shoulder “I’m assuming your interested in her?”

“I mean-I don’t-“

“Your cute.” Ginny said shaking her head “Getting all nervous and weird over a girl you haven’t even spoken to yet. She’s single you know.”

Mat bit his lip before he spoke “Does-does she even know who I am?”

Ginny nodded “Yeah she just mentioned you yesterday.”

Mat felt his face get hot and his mouth fell open, “She did not.”

“She did too. She asked me what your name was.”

“Great so she didn’t even know my name.” He grumbled. Talk about embarrassing.

“Leighton doesn’t get involved in all the girl gossip around here. Your groupies-“ she said nodding over his shoulder to the table of girl’s whispering behind him “Spend all their time worrying about boys. She’s not like them. Or me for that matter.”

“She really doesn’t have a boyfriend?”

“Hard to believe huh?” Ginny said, eyes flicking up to meet his. They were large and green, like a cat sizing him up. Though she was making conversation with him, he could tell she didn’t totally buy into his interest in her best friend.

“It is. Girls like her are usually spoken for.”

“Well she’s not. But before you go getting any crazy ideas, just know that if you hurt her in any way shape or form, I will slit your throat, and sit happily in a jail cell for the rest of my life. I’ll be in prison, you’ll be dead and Leighton will meet someone else and replace your stupid ass. Got it?”

He chuckled and shook his head “Got it.”

**********

“Do you know Mat Barzal?” Ginny asked while they did homework. Leighton glanced up and shook her head as she sharpened her pencil.

“I don’t think so?”

“Dark hair? Sits behind you in Math?”

“Oh yeah. The cute one. What about him?”

“He’s my history partner and he asked me about you.” Ginny was smiling as she pulled out a notebook and opened it.

“Really? What about me?”

“Maybe you should find out for yourself.” Ginny said airily, eyes twinkling.

“Are you trying to set me up?”

“Not at all. But you said yourself you thought he was cute. And now he’s asked me about you? Sounds like fate to me.”

Leighton rolled her eyes “Fate? In highschool? Give me a break.”

*********

“So tell me about yourself Mat Barzal.” Leighton said as they began their walk home. The weather was warm, but breezy and her hair was moving very gently with each step, sun shining off of it as it moved across her shoulders and down her back. Ginny had set up a meeting during lunch, and when he’d offered to walk her home, she’d accepted and here they were.

“There’s not much to know really. I’m from Canada, I play hockey and I suck at Math.”

She chuckled a little “I suck at Math too.”

“Liar. I saw that A you got on your last test.”

She glanced at him and smiled a little “Reading my grades over my shoulder? Sneaky.”

“Hey whatever it takes to pass. You sit too far in front of me to cheat.” She laughed and shook her head.

“Maybe we’ll have to change that…” she glanced over at him “For the sake of your grades.”

“Your too kind.”

“So what’s Canada like? I’ve never been.”

“Canada is…we’ll Canada is Canadian if you know what I mean.”

She shook her head and quirked and eyebrow “I don’t follow.”

He told her all about home, his family, and how he came to be in Seattle.

“I play for the thunderbirds. You should come sometime.” He glanced over, hoping he hadn’t noted her out of her skull but she was looking at him interestedly.

“I mean sure. I’d love to. I mean I don’t know anything about hockey but I’m down to learn.”

“Really? It’s a date then.” He froze and looked over at her, realizing he’d said the word “date” without meaning to.

She was blushing and hoisted her backpack over her shoulder “A date?”

“I mean-uh-“ he chuckled nervously “Not a date, I guess or I mean if you want it to be a date it can be, totally up to you, no pressure or anything I-“

“It can be a date.” She started to slow down and he realized they were standing in front of what he presumed was her house. It was huge, deep green with black shutters and plants covering the porch and front yard. A black picket fence with a gate was between the yard and sidewalk and she had one hand braced on it.

“This is me.” She nodded behind her.

He felt a little sad. What might have been the best walk of his life had ended and he had to say goodbye to her before he was ready.

“Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?” He said leaning forward smiling hopefully.

“You will.” She smiled sweetly and he leaned forward. She thought for a second he might kiss her, and wouldn’t have minded if he did but he hugged her instead, and made his way down the sidewalk.

She flew up to her bedroom like a tornado and propelled herself into her bed with a small scream, before pulling out her phone to text Ginny.

**********

“So you and Mat Barzal huh?” Shelly asked as they changed back into school clothing from gym class. Several of the girls within earshot turned and looked at her interestedly.

“What?” She glanced at Ginny who shrugged.

“Oh come on. It’s all over school.”

“Is it? Interesting.” Leighton avoided their eyes. She wasn’t embarrassed, but she was surprised that everyone knew about it so soon.

“How’d they find out?” She whispered to Ginny.

“I’m not sure. But I guess I’m not the only one who saw you guys kissing under the bleachers.”

Leighton didn’t really care, but she also wasn’t sure she wanted everyone to know about them making out under the bleachers. It was kind of personal. Though there had been lots of kissing on Katie’s porch at the party after the game, no one had seen it. So they thought they’d been indiscreet when they spent lunch hour together under the bleachers.

“It was bound to get out eventually.” Ginny said as she pulled her shirt over her head and sat to slide her sneakers on.

“I know but still. It hasn’t even been 4 hours.”

“I wouldn’t worry. By tomorrow everyone will have forgotten about it and they’ll be talking about how Maddie White gave Jessie Smith a handjob in the parking lot during 5th period.”

“Ew. Did that actually happen?”

“I don’t know, but for you I can start that rumor.”

Leighton laughed and shook her head “Nah. save it for another day.”

“Just tell me when.” Ginny wiggled a foot into her shoe and glanced up “I owe her for when she told everyone I had sex with Mike Phillips on the football team bus after school.”

“But Ginny you actually did that….”

“I know but the bitch could have kept it to herself.”

Leighton shook her head and grabbed her backpack, hoisting it over her shoulder. She could feel the others staring at her as she followed Ginny out of the bathroom. Once out of earshot Ginny turned to her.

“It wasn’t a secret right? You and Mat?”

“I don’t think so. Just not sure why it’s such interesting news.”

“You know why. You may not see it, but boys are just as interested in you as they are in me, but for different reasons.”

“I don’t know about all that.”

“I do. But Mat’s different. He likes you, not me. Not even a little bit actually. It’s kind of nice to be honest.”

“What do you mean?”

She shrugged and chose her words carefully “It’s been so long since I had a guy who was a real ‘friend’ and not just a friend for the sake of getting in my pants. It’s nice to talk to a guy not have him look at me like I’m a piece of meat is all.” She smiled a little and turned to Leighton “He’s a good guy Leighton. Trust me.”

They parted ways so Ginny could make her way to 4th period and Leighton could grab her stuff from her locker for study hall. She opened it, tossing her gym bag inside, and shuffling through books that she needed to work on homework when she felt a presence next to her.

“Hey.” Leighton turned to find Mat leaned against the locker next to hers, smiling. She felt her cheeks get red and smiled back at him.

“Hey.”

He glanced around at the others in the hallway. Everyone was staring at them, whispering and watching interestedly as they talked.

“So I guess everyone knows…” he trailed off eyes moving back to her.

“It would seem that way.”

“It would. Well since they already know-“ he took two steps forward and kissed her right there in front of her locker, during the busiest part of the school day. If there were rumors before, there definitely would be now. When they broke apart she could hear giggling from several people and she let her head fall into his shoulder.

“I figured I might as well confirm what everyone already knows.” He was smiling widely, hazel eyes twinkling with mischief. They spoke for a few more moments before he kissed her again and made his way to history, where he would be seated with Ginny, and Leighton headed off to do homework, knowing she would be getting nothing down with that kiss still on her mind.

*********

“Can a guy just kiss his girlfriend without it being a state occasion. Jesus.” Mat threw himself down next to Ginny and huffed.

“He could if his girlfriend was less hot and popular but you decided to date high class so it’s your own fault.”

“I guess I can live with it then.” He took out his book, and Ginny smiled at him.

“Don’t act like you aren’t enjoying this.”

“Enjoying what?”

“Enjoying all these fools envying you for having the hottest girl at school glued to your lips.”

“I mean….” He trailed off and though he tried, he couldn’t fight back his smile “A little I guess.”

“More like a lot.” She laughed and shook her head “It’s all over your face. Of course your enjoying it. Who doesn’t want to date the hottest girl at school?”

“I thought you were the hottest girl at school?”

“Depends on who you ask.” She shrugged “But it doesn’t change my statement. Look around you. Every guy in here would love nothing more than your demise so they can be next in line.”

“That’s dramatic. Next thing you’ll say is they wanna challenge me to a duel.”

“Better hope you have a hockey stick on you at all times.”

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

“Wait wait-“ Leighton pulled away from him gasping and pushed him back. He still had a hand on either side of her waist.

“What are you-“

She wiggled out of her shirt, tossing it aside as he leaned back down to kiss her. His own shirt went next and just as he was about to slide her leggings off, a car door from outside startled both of them.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He whispered, hearing the voices of his billet family from the driveway. Leighton yanked her shirt on and fixed her leggings.

“What do we do?” she whispered grabbing her shoes.

“Uhm.” He glanced around “Closet. Closet.” She hurried inside and closed the door just as a knock sounded on his door. He took a deep breath and opened it.

“Hey.” He smiled at his billet mom who looked at him questioningly.

“What happened to you? You look a mess.”

“Oh I- uh I went for a run. Just a little out of breath.”

“Right. We’re watching a movie before we go to bed. Do you want to join us.”

“Oh no thanks. I’m gonna go to bed I think. I have practice early.”

“Okay. Well goodnight.”

He hated lying to them, as they were housing him when he really needed them to, but he couldn’t make Leighton stay in the closet while he watched a film with them. When he heard her footsteps descend the stairs and disappear, he locked the door and crept to the closet.

Leighton was holding a hand over her mouth “Now what? How am I going to get out of here?” She was smiling as she whispered. Mat pulled her from the closet and turned off the lamp leaving them in the darkness.

“You can sneak out when they go to bed. But for now. It’s just us.”

She could barely see him in the darkness, but she felt his hand on her hip, fingertips just brushing below the hem of her leggings.

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

**********

“Okay now smile!” Leighton’s mom called, camera outstretched in front of her. Mat wrapped an arm around Leighton’s waist and leaned towards her smiling. Leighton’s parents backyard was packed with their friends and their friends parents, all posing for prom photos.

Mat’s parents had come all the way from Vancouver for this event, and had finally gotten to meet Leighton’s mom and dad.

She looked beautiful.

When she’d descended the stairs Mat had completely forgotten how to breathe, think or speak and had simply stared at her open mouthed until he managed a small “Wow.”

Though he seen her now in various stages of dressed and undressed, she’d really outdone herself this time. Her dress was long and black, straps hanging from each shoulder, a long slit up one leg. When she moved, the light caught tiny shimmers across the fabric.

“You look amazing.” He whispered in her ear. She turned to smiling.

“You said that already.”

“Did I? Well get used to it because I’m going to keep saying it.”

She blushed and turned eyes searching for Ginny. She was some feet away, smiling with Tyler, Mat’s teammate who looked contact high in photos. Ginny would let him down easy after prom, and he would be crushed but for tonight, he looked elated to be posing with Ginny in her short Emerald green prom dress.

“Guys having the time of his life.” Mat said with a chuckle. Ginny stuck a leg out, making him blush and glanced at Mat and Leighton, waggling her eyebrows.

He gripped her hand and raised it to his mouth, kissing it and together they walked to join their friends in the limo.

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

“I love you.” Leighton said quietly from in front of him. They were wrapped up in the bed of her dads truck, propped on a pillow. They’d been sitting in silence for a while, the only sound being the noises of nighttime animals. She’d been running her fingernails up and down his arm, listening to his heartbeat through his shirt.

For just a while it seemed like the rest of the world was gone, and only they were left. It was an incredible feeling and one he could never get enough of.

“When we’re old and grey, promise me we’ll come back to this spot.” She leaned sideways and looked up at him, smiling sweetly

“I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

[pedrospatch]

For the ASH requests, would you ever consider writing more from Ellie's POV? I know she's intimidating to write for (at least i think so) but I absolutely ADORE the relationship you've created between Ellie and Peach, and I think you capture Ellie's spirit perfectly!

Like, if you have ANY scene from past chapters where you wanted to elaborate more on Ellie, I would absolutely eat that shit up!

And if you can't think of a scene, I'll definitely go back and re-read (oh no, now i have to re-read, yet again, one of my fave Joel series, shucks) and pull out a specific scene!

this is back from when i requested prompts so i could do little writing exercises, i had this one in my drafts and decided to quickly edit and post. thank you Kaitlin for having sent this one in. 🤍

Warnings/Tags: Terrible puns, Ellie/Dina interaction, Ellie semi comes out to reader. ASH universe, takes place before chapter seven.

Word Count: 807

“So what if I don’t know what apocalypse means.”

Grinning, Ellie paused for dramatic effect.

She was currently laying on a bed of hay in Stella’s stall with her head resting in Dina’s lap.

“It’s not the end of the world!” She finished off the terrible joke with a loud cackle.

Dina wrinkled her nose. “That’s in poor taste, El.”

Her smile faltered. “Aw come on, that was a good one!”

“It’s too soon.”

“Uh it’s been twenty-one years since the world did in fact fucking end, you know that, right?”

“Still too soon.”

She bit into her apple, then offered it to Ellie.

Ellie took a bite, wiping her mouth with the sleeve of her red shirt. “Alright, alright,” she said through a mouth of fruit as she flipped through the pages of the joke book Dina had gifted her earlier on that summer—No Pun Intended: Volume Tree. “To the guy who invented zero—”

Smirking, Dina cut her off. “Thanks for nothing.”

Ellie lightly smacked the side of her face with the book. “Stop beating me to the punchline!”

“Well then get to it faster, El.”

Dina’s sweet little giggle caused Ellie’s stomach to flip.

Closing the book, Ellie tossed it aside.

“So, tell me why you’re stuck working in the library today instead of here at the stables with me?”

Dina sighed. “Because my sister needed the afternoon off,” she said. “She needs me to man the desk.” She glanced at her watch. “And speaking of the library, that’s where I should have been twenty minutes ago. Shit! Talia is going to kill me.”

She started to get up, but Ellie stopped her. 

“Wait.”

“El, I’ve got to go—”

“Just come here for a second. There’s something I want to tell you, but it’s a secret.”

Dina laughed. “Ellie, it’s just me, you, and the horse in here.”

“Come here.” She made a come hither motion with her index finger.

Rolling her eyes, Dina obliged and lowered her head. “What is it, El?”

“Closer.”

“Ellie, stop messing around—”

Ellie grabbed fistfuls of her shirt and pulled her down, pressing her mouth to hers. She pulled away slightly. “That’s all I wanted to tell you,” she murmured against her lips.

Dina grinned. “Tell me more.”

“I thought you were late.”

“What’s another minute or two?”

“Ellie? Hello? Anyone home?”

Elle glanced over at you. “Huh?”

It was the end of the day and you’d offered to walk home together.

“Have you heard a single word I’ve said in the last five minutes?”

“I—sorry, I was distracted.”

“Yeah, you’ve been distracted all afternoon,” You remarked with a knowing smirk. “Not to mention, smiling from ear to ear. Is there something I should know about? Or someone, perhaps?”

Ellie’s grip on the straps of her backpack tightened, her face beet red.

“No,” she mumbled. “Of course not.”

“Okay.”

Taken aback, Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“What?”

“Okay?” she repeated. “You’re not gonna give me shit?”

“That’s your specialty, not mine.” Winking at her, you nudged her lightly in her side. “But you know, if there’s ever anything that you need to talk about—or if you have any questions about anything, you know you can come to me, don’t you?”

Ellie peered at you. “About anything?”

“Yeah. You know, life stuff. Girl stuff. Things you don’t want to talk to Joel about. For example, you can talk to me about boys.” You paused. “Or girls.”

Ellie halted in her tracks, her throat going dry. “W-What are you talking about?”

Did you know?

How did you know?

If you knew something, did that mean Joel knew something too?

Ellie tried to mask the panic on her face.

“I’m just saying.” You shrugged, gripping the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “You have a safe space with me, Ellie.”

She stared at you.

Well, that much she knew.

After all, besides Joel and Tommy, you were the only other soul who knew about her immunity. She trusted you.

“That’d be weird though, right?”

“What would be weird?”

“Talking about girls. You know, since I’m a girl.”

“Why would that be weird, Ellie?”

“Because. Girls aren’t supposed to like girls.”

“Says who?”

Ellie’s mouth fell open slightly.

You offered her a gentle smile. “Ellie, the heart wants what it wants. And there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.”

Ellie shuffled from foot to foot. “You mean, it’s okay if I—?”

“Absolutely.”

“I—Joel doesn’t know. At least I don’t think he does.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, Ellie. He doesn’t have to know until you’re ready to tell him.” You put a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Okay?”

Ellie nodded. “Okay.”

“Come on, let’s go.”

“Wait.”

Before you could ask, she threw her arms around your waist.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being the coolest fucking person I’ve ever met.”

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

Winter Event | OT7 Masterlist | 2023

Snowflakes divider by @samspenandsword

Prompt list by @flightlessangelwings

~Key:

|❤️ = fluff |💙= angst |🖤= heavy angst |💛= comedy/crack |💚= au | 🤍= mature/heavy/sensitive themes|

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

A/N: This is my last post of 2023, darlings. I wish to see you all next year as I have a lot planned to share with you all! I want to thank everyone who has read, followed, interacted and shared my work. Thank you all for your support of my writing shenanigans, I hope you had enjoyed it too. 😅😅😅

I started this blog on May of 2023 and I can't believe how much I've written in the course of eight months and, even though it wasn't as much as I would have liked, I'm glad I began this little hobby of mine and thank you again for every support you have given me.

May you all have a blessed 2024, full of happiness, riches, love and passion. Let's meet in 2025 when the boys are back, thanks for all the love I've received in my short time here and let's pray for more years together!

Happy 2024, darlings! 💜

~Total Word Count: 12.2k words

Prompt 1: Found family ✔ ✔

Title: Melted Promises (married! au, war! au) ❤️💙💚

He made you a promise that he sealed with a kiss. He said he'd come back to you after the war was over. You could only hope, with a heavy heart and melted dreams, that Yoongi would keep his word and find his way back home.

Prompt 2: Hot chocolate ✔ ✔

Title: Silent Desires (best friend! au, non idol! au) ❤️💙💛💚

Kind and soft-hearted. That was your childhood best friend, Hoseok who had been in love with you for so many years. Maybe this time he'd get to open up his silent desires to you, and maybe, hopefully, you'll feel just like him. In love.

Prompt 3: Saying “I love you” for the first time ✔ ✔

Title: Aşk-ı Memnu (non idol! au, forbidden love! au, cheating! au) ❤️💙💚

What is prohibited, it's desired the most. Or in which you tangle yourself in a forbidden love with Jeon Jungkook while being married to an older man. Yet it is also said that forbidden fruits taste the best.

Prompt 4: Snuggling by a cozy fireplace ✔✔

Title: Flames Of Love (royal! au, historical! au) ❤️💙🖤💚🤍

A tragedy. A new reign. A cruel order given by the king. Prince Jimin was forced to leave his home in the palace while trying to save both his and your life. Yet you both ended up burning in the flames of your love. Wrong time. Wrong life. Right person and a story that crumbled to the ashes of destiny.

Prompt 5: Getting snowed in ✔✔

Title: The Fine Line Between Love & Hate (non idol! au, e2l! a) ❤️💛💚

Trapped in a car with the person you hate the most in this world you come to notice that perhaps Kim Taehyung is not the most despicable human being to ever walk on this earth while he realises your presence might be tolerable. In the end, the line between love and hate has always been a very fine one.

Prompt 6: Warming your hands by holding theirs ✔✔

Title: Echoes Of Two Worlds (idol! au, hybrid! au) ❤️💙💚

Trust is gained in drops but lost in buckets. Or in which you open up to Namjoon and he was left to dream that you'd want him forever. Singing a song only you two could hear, repeating the echoes of the two worlds that separated you yet united you at the same time.

Prompt 7: Getting away from the cold ✔✔

Title: Love Me Like You Love The Moon (non idol! au, established relationship! au) ❤️💙💚🤍

Life is neither black nor white, however as you are drowning in the darkest shades of your life and hideous thoughts, you have Seokjin to show you that life is not dark nor light, that you don't have to fight your battles alone and feeling cold is not wrong. Because he loves you just like you are, with all your darkness and all your light, a beautiful resemblance of the moon.

December/31/2023

~Masterlist

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[missyeon]

rania’s story; thank you for reaching out to me 🤍

→ from her gofundme;

“My name is Rania Muhanna, I'm 35 years old, a graphic designer and digital artist. My family consists of 23 people, nine children and fourteen others including grandparents. We are now living in tents unable to comprehend the magnitude of pain and suffering. Our home, which we worked hard to buy over the past years during the devastating war in Gaza City, was demolished. My father also lost his workshop, which was the livelihood source for our family.

Personally, Israeli artillery targeted my office as a freelance designer, causing me to lose all my equipment and office space. We were forced to leave our homes amidst the sound of bullets and rockets, seeking refuge at the Red Crescent Hospital for nearly a month, enduring attacks and battles around the hospital.

After the occupation targeted many children and advanced its vehicles in front of the hospital gate, we left through a terrifying and frightening path. We stopped for hours of interrogation, losing all our remaining personal belongings. We left with no money or clothes except what we were wearing, no blankets or food, and none of the basic necessities of life. We lost everything and are striving to build a new future as a productive family capable of continuing and rising from the ashes of war.

Through this campaign, we aim to raise funds to help us leave Gaza Strip and start a new life in a better and safer place.

The cost of evacuating one adult is 7500 euro while the child fee is 5000 euros. There are also some transaction fees for GoFundMe, not to mention the basic living expenses for a family of 24 person in Egypt.

Please help me raise the application fees and travel costs for 24 people. To facilitate the evacuation of my family to Egypt, I am setting up this campaign on GoFundMe to raise 171,843 euros. Here is the breakdown of the funds:

A total of 157,000 euros must be allocated to cover expenses related to obtaining exit permits from Gaza, as well as crossing fees in Rafah on the border between Egypt and Gaza.

An estimated 10,000 euros will be sufficient to cover the basic needs of my family in Egypt for five months, including housing, food, and other necessities (equivalent to 2,000 euros per month).

A total of 4,843 euros will be used to cover GoFundMe transaction fees (2.9% plus $0.30 per donation).

Any donation, no matter how small, will make a huge difference in the safety of my family. We will use the funds collected transparently and efficiently to ensure that every dollar goes towards keeping them safe.

Thank you for your support, and I am grateful for any assistance you can provide during this difficult time.

→ rania’s gofundme;

🇵🇸🇵🇸🇵🇸 — [ @raniamuhanna ]

[shigerussato]

💌 – Shigesato Week WIP List !!

this is what i have planned for shigesato week !! i’m excited to be able to hold this event for a second year, so thank you to all who will be participating. i was hoping to have had this done for wip wednesday but i didn’t i was a little busy lol. 🤍

–

Day 1 (moving in/living with each other) - gary and ash take a step into their relationship to move in with each other, with excitement and slight anxiety they both begin their own journey with the real start of their life together. 

Day 2 (kisses, hugs, i love you’s) - both ash and gary recall their favorite acts of affection towards each other. 

Day 3 (jealousy/angst with happy ending) - gary spots a grey hair in his hair and draws many insecurities of his appearance when meeting a new battle partner of ash’s 

Day 4 (coming home/going on a journey) - ash comes home just in wants to surprise gary on his birthday. 

Day 5 (domestic/sickness/cooking favorite food) - ash falls ill before a battle competition causing gary having to fly over to sinnoh to care for him. 

Day 6 (telling about/hiding their relationship from professor oak/delia or both !) - gary and ash organize dinner at the oak laboratory to find it in them to tell them about their relationship. 

Day 7 (free day !) - (very inspired by the celebi movie) gary and ash find themselves encountering celebi and travel into the future meeting with a young boy they feel a sense of familiarity to and a sense of protection to him. 

[slimelover165]

The goddess Sekhmet, "Lady of Terror", "Mistress of Dread". Whatever she goes by, she is one of the most feared yet powerful gods in the Egyptian pantheon. Eye of ra and embodiment of rage Sekhmet is the goddess of war, fire, womanhood, healing, and vengeance. Crimson is also her avatar. I’m not entirely happy with her design so she may eventually get a redesign but she is done for now. I hope you all like her. Read her story below

🤍🌙Praise Khonshu and safe travels🌙🤍

 

✰

 

✰

The Tale of Sekhmet

In the ancient days, when the sun god Ra ruled over all creation, there came a time when humanity began to rebel against the divine order. They spoke in whispers of defiance, plotting against Ra, who had given them life. Angered by their betrayal, Ra called upon his daughter, Sekhmet, to punish the wickedness of mankind. 

Sekhmet, the powerful lioness goddess of war and destruction, sprang forth from Ra’s fiery eye. Her heart burned with the wrath of the gods, and her roar shook the earth as she descended upon humanity. With each step, the ground trembled beneath her, and with each swipe of her claws, she tore through villages, leaving nothing but blood and ashes in her wake.

As Sekhmet’s fury grew, so did the devastation. The rivers ran red with blood, and the cries of the dying filled the air. Sekhmet reveled in the destruction, her thirst for blood insatiable. Day after day, she roamed the earth, slaughtering all in her path. The gods looked on with fear, for it seemed that not even Ra could stop her.

Ra, seeing the destruction she had wrought, began to worry. He loved his creation, and he did not wish to see it utterly destroyed. But he knew that Sekhmet, once unleashed, could not be easily restrained. Yet, he could not abandon humanity to its fate. And so, he devised a plan—a plan to calm Sekhmet's rage and save what remained of mankind.

Ra commanded his priests to brew a vast quantity of beer, enough to fill seven thousand jars. He then ordered that the beer be mixed with red ochre to resemble the blood that Sekhmet so eagerly sought. The priests spread this mixture across the fields, letting it glisten in the light of the sun.

When Sekhmet came upon the fields and saw what appeared to be blood, she was overcome with desire. She drank deeply from the pools, her thirst for blood driving her to consume every drop. But as she drank, the beer's intoxicating effects began to take hold. Her rage started to subside, and her bloodlust waned. She drank and drank until she could drink no more, and then, swaying on her feet, she fell into a deep, enchanted sleep.

As Sekhmet slept, something extraordinary happened. Her rage, which had fueled her destruction, began to transform. The fury that had once consumed her split and softened, giving birth to new aspects of her divine being.

From the quieting storm within her, two new goddesses emerged, like daughters born from her own essence.

The first was Bastet, who took the form of a sleek and graceful cat. Bastet embodied the gentler side of Sekhmet’s power, representing protection, home, and fertility. The second was Hathor, who radiated joy, beauty, and love. Hathor emerged as a goddess of celebration and motherhood, embodying the warmth and joy that had once been hidden beneath Sekhmet’s rage.

When Sekhmet awoke, she found that her rage had dissipated, transformed into these two new goddesses. She herself remained powerful, but now her wrath was tempered by the gentle influence of Bastet and the joyful presence of Hathor. These two goddesses, born from her own spirit, became protectors in their own right, each carrying forward a piece of Sekhmet's original power, but in new, benevolent forms.

Ra, seeing the transformation, welcomed the birth of Bastet and Hathor with joy. He praised Sekhmet for her might and honored Bastet and Hathor for their roles in restoring balance to the world. Humanity, too, was grateful, for they had been spared by the intervention of these new goddesses.

From that day forward, Sekhmet, Bastet, and Hathor were revered across Egypt. Each goddess, though distinct, was understood to be part of a divine whole—an embodiment of the powerful forces that shape the world, capable of both destruction and creation, wrath and mercy, fury and love.

[hayziehay]

Hello, how are you? I hope you are well. I am Seline from Gaza. I started this campaign to raise money to help me rebuild my family's life after losing everything in Gaza😥. All that remains of our house is the rubble and our memories that have turned to ash💔. My family and I barely escaped with our lives, leaving behind everything we owned. Now, we are in Egypt, struggling to rebuild our lives from scratch. The war left us with nothing but the clothes we wear and the painful memories of what we lost We need your help to find a safe place to live, to provide for our children, and to start over🥺.

With your support, we can restore our hope and rebuild our family's future. 🤍

Please consider donating to our campaign🙏🏻.

Your generosity can make a big difference in our lives.🙌🏻❤️

Hello Seline, I’m well, and I hope that very soon you and your family will be too. I’m sorry about your home and all you’ve lost. I can’t donate but I hope this will post can boost your campaign enough for more donations. I hope that you guys can restart your life’s in Egypt and live a better life than during the war.

[seuqminsjovrnal]

Hello, my name is Ahlam, I am 21 years old. I apologize for asking you, but the situation in Gaza is very difficult

Imagine that your entire life is limited to one thought: How can I stay alive? . You no longer think about the future, because the present has become a battlefield . Every day you wake up to the sound of an explosion , or you see fear in people's eyes greater than words 🥺. War doesn't just take your home 🏡, it takes away from your heart every sense of security. Even the places that used to be full of children's laughter , are now empty except for destruction and ashes. Food? It has become a dream . Water? Every drop of it is a treasure . And sleep? It has become a luxury that only those who have completely lost their sense of fear can afford. Do you remember when you used to plan for your future? Now, the future is just an empty word. Every day that passes is a small victory, but the price? Your soul that is eroded with every moment. And amidst all of this, there is something that still clings to hope inside of me, even if it is lost. I search the faces for remnants of humanity, for any hand that reaches out to tell me "there is still life after the war" . I created a link to collect donations for me so that I can leave the war zone and start over in a safe place and live in peace away from fear, anxiety and destruction.If you can contribute any amount, even a small amount, it will make a big difference.

Vetted by :

@GazaVetters

dlxxv-vetted-donations

heba-20

I hope you will help me and donate to me 👇👇

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-ahlam-rebuild-her-life-and-dreams

i can't help donate but i can share 🥹 please help donate and reblog to anyone who sees this 🤍 i didn't ask for much

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-ahlam-rebuild-her-life-and-dreams

[weepingnightmarepeanut]

Hello, my name is Ahlam, I am 21 years old. I apologize for asking you, but the situation in Gaza is very difficult

Imagine that your entire life is limited to one thought: How can I stay alive? . You no longer think about the future, because the present has become a battlefield . Every day you wake up to the sound of an explosion , or you see fear in people's eyes greater than words 🥺. War doesn't just take your home 🏡, it takes away from your heart every sense of security. Even the places that used to be full of children's laughter , are now empty except for destruction and ashes. Food? It has become a dream . Water? Every drop of it is a treasure . And sleep? It has become a luxury that only those who have completely lost their sense of fear can afford. Do you remember when you used to plan for your future? Now, the future is just an empty word. Every day that passes is a small victory, but the price? Your soul that is eroded with every moment. And amidst all of this, there is something that still clings to hope inside of me, even if it is lost. I search the faces for remnants of humanity, for any hand that reaches out to tell me "there is still life after the war" . I created a link to collect donations for me so that I can leave the war zone and start over in a safe place and live in peace away from fear, anxiety and destruction.If you can contribute any amount, even a small amount, it will make a big difference.

Vetted by :

@GazaVetters

@dlxxv-vetted-donations

@heba-20

I hope you will help me and donate to me 👇👇

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-ahlam-rebuild-her-life-and-dreams

❤️💚🤍🖤

[cinderacequeen]

Hello, my name is Ahlam, I am 21 years old. Please read my words with your hearts. Imagine that your entire life is limited to one thought: How can I stay alive? . You no longer think about the future, because the present has become a battlefield . Every day you wake up to the sound of an explosion , or you see fear in people's eyes greater than words 🥺. War doesn't just take your home 🏡, it takes away from your heart every sense of security. Even the places that used to be full of children's laughter , are now empty except for destruction and ashes. Food? It has become a dream . Water? Every drop of it is a treasure . And sleep? It has become a luxury that only those who have completely lost their sense of fear can afford. Do you remember when you used to plan for your future? Now, the future is just an empty word. Every day that passes is a small victory, but the price? Your soul that is eroded with every moment. And amidst all of this, there is something that still clings to hope inside of me, even if it is lost. I search the faces for remnants of humanity, for any hand that reaches out to tell me "there is still life after the war" . I created a link to collect donations for me so that I can leave the war zone and start over in a safe place and live in peace away from fear, anxiety and destruction. I hope you will help me and donate to me 👇👇

https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-ahlam-rebuild-her-life-and-dreams

DONATE HERE ⬇️

https://gofund.me/38d59512

🇵🇸❤️🖤🤍💚🍉

[littlemissmentallyunstable]

hi!! I’m very aware that this was requested on the 13th of August, and literally over a month later I’ve finally managed to write it up. I feel unbelievably guilty for not getting it done sooner and I’m sorry it even took this long. I really really hope you enjoy it and I’m ever grateful for the patience 🤍🤍

title: there’s always another mystery

pairing: jameson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: avery kylie grambs is spending a little too much time with your boyfriend than you’d like… but when jameson starts lying about it questions are raised and tension rises until it all bubbles over

warnings: mild swearing, violence, assault

a/n: the synopsis sounds really cringy so forgive me, this fic is kind of long and very dialogue heavy and ermmm… I hope you enjoy the ending ;)

tag list: @bewitchingkisses @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

You sit on the bed waiting for Jameson to arrive. You wonder how long he’ll take this time. You’d just seen him and Avery ascending the set of stairs that lead to his dead uncle’s wing. Him and Avery. The pretty new comer with those big hazel eyes and long soft hair, pocketing a billionaire’s fortune overnight. She had it all: the looks, the brains, the humour. She was perfection and that bugged you greatly. She was a mystery.

Literally. When Tobias had finally decided to fall asleep forever, she was the result, the heiress, the consequence. She was big masterful puzzle had popped out of nowhere, from nothing. Not that you hadn’t had you fair share of experience with that. You’d earned yourself a scholarship to one of the most prestigious private schools in Texas and raised from the ashes into a burning flame. Then you’d met Jameson Hawthorne.

He had always been an interesting character, you had just never expected his interest in you. You were the scholarship kid nobody knew or cared enough to know and somehow he was intrigued. He had found you studying the the library one day and the two of you just clicked, it was like you’d known each other for years. He’d walked you home that night and had done so ever since. From that day on you were the closest of friends. It wasn’t long before you met his brothers, mostly absent mother and extremely judgemental grandfather. Hawthorne house became a second home. The two of you sat for hours, mostly on the rooftop, staring up at an endless sky of stars and talking about anything and everything. You actually don’t think there’s a topic you haven’t covered. Everything seemed to be going swimmingly… then he started dating Emily.

From the beginning, you didn’t like her at all, but you bit your tongue from pouring out your true feelings to Jameson when he’d asked for an opinion on her. You didn’t want to make his relationship feel awkward. She was everything you didn’t want him to be with. And she wasn’t you. It shattered you, but you saw how his face lit up when he mentioned her name and you vowed you wouldn’t ruin that for him. To see him that happy was worth it.

You should’ve trusted your gut. Everyday since she broke his heart, you beat yourself up for not saying anything. There were so many chances and you took none of them. She used him, abused him and left him to rot, you supposed she didn’t account for that fact that you’d be there to save him. And then she died. It was one destructive milestone after another. Explosion after explosion. But you helped Jameson through the hardest time of his life, you fixed him when he was too broken to mend.

It wasn’t until then that you realised you loved him. I mean you’d always known you’d loved him, but never in a romantic way, it had always felt so plutonic. But judging by the pure fury that built up inside of you when Emily was mentioned, the passionate way you protected and defended him in situations and the fact that you wanted nothing more than to kiss him until he couldn’t speak, you were pretty sure you were in love. But you never acted on the feeling, too afraid you’d ruin the closeness you had. It wasn’t until one night when you’d been stargazing together that he took your face in his gentle palms and kissed your tender lips. The whole act took you by surprise suddenly, but it didn’t stop you from kissing back. It felt so natural, so normal, like it was supposed to be this way. He was sweeter than you’d imagined but in the best way possible.

“I’ve always loved you,” he’d whispered as you’d pulled away, “always.”

“I’ve always loved you too,” you’d smiled shyly, cheeks flushed with colour, “and to be honest I don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

You can’t remember when it was established that he was your boyfriend but from that kiss onwards, that’s what he was to you. He was still your best friend but in a different way. There was more chemistry and kissing, but the banter remained the same. The two of you were actually planning to go on a backpacking trip around Europe but then Tobias had died and it was another round of pain and healing for Jameson, who turned to alcohol for respite. But then the will happened and Avery Kylie Grambs had appeared out of nowhere and the old man’s final game had unfurled. So the mystery girl had been an adjustment for you to say the least.

Avery wasn’t bad. In fact you liked her a lot, you could see yourself forming a friendship with her, a tight bond but the problem was the sheer amount of time she was spending with your boyfriend. After discovering she was the key to solving his grandfather’s final mystery Jameson became obsessed. He craved the answers, thirsted for knowledge. You didn’t mind at first, you let him play his game, you only ever objected the dangerous parts when he risked himself getting hurt. Other than that you said nothing. Then he let on that this all had something to do with Emily. Emily had destroyed him, from inside out. A broken, bitter shell was formed over the real Jameson. You had worked so hard to get him to see that he wasn’t broken or damaged and you feared this might undo it.

But you knew how important Emily had been, how much of his life she’d ruined, you knew Jameson needed the closure and Avery would help him to get there, but after that you expected their interaction to die down. But they didn’t. Not in the slightest. You weren’t jealous at first, you trusted Jameson and didn’t see Avery as a threat, but after a while the meetings felt too frequent and too elongated. It was a little suspicious. When you’d asked Jameson he insisted it was all part of the game.

But then that game finished and it opened up another. Of course there always had to be more to a mystery. They were Hawthorne’s. But you’d had enough, you were tired of the endless myserties. Was it so selfish to want things to go back to how they were before? When the old man’s games were not as dangerous, a little less time consuming and uninvloving of recent billionaire girls.

You’re reeled in from your deep train of thought as Jameson walks in. You look up from your desk, placing your pen down. You flash him a sweet smile in which he returns.

“So where have you been?” you ask, a hint of a forged giggle in the back of your throat.

“Nowhere,” he shrugs, the blatant lie so easily escaping his lips cuts right through your heart.

“Nowhere with brick dust on your blazer and shoes?” you raise an challenging eyebrow, arms folded across your chest.

“I climbed a wall,” he says. Lie number two, you make a mental note.

“I saw you with Avery and Xander in Toby’s wing,” you say bluntly, your face expressionless so he can’t read it.

“Are you spying on me?” he replies, gaping.

You give a delicate shrug in response and don’t answer the question directly, “what were you whispering about?”

“What do you mean?” he furrows his brow, confused.

He’s playing dumb. Fine. He can play dumb. But he won’t able to for much longer.

“I mean what were you and Avery just whispering about,” you ask directly, your tone flat as the tyre you’d burst on his car earlier that morning.

He hesitates. He doesn’t want to tell you, that’s obvious.

“Oh, was it personal?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, opting a cold, curt, feigned sort of concern to your tone.

“Oh no,” he mumbles, “well kind of…Tobias Hawthorne is alive.”

You try not to the let your jaw drop, “your grandfather?”

How had that slimy bastard managed to fake his own death and-

He shakes his head, “my uncle.”

Of course, why hadn’t you seen it sooner? Him and Avery going into his wing, the sneaking around. But then how is the question, Toby had died before Jameson had even been born.

“And so the plot thickens,” you muse, pursing your lips.

“As always,” he says, flashing you a lopsided grin that was so like him, it reminded you of the old Jameson. The one that you got closer and closer to forgetting the less you saw of him.

“Who else knows?” you ask.

“The family,” he shrugs in response.

“And Avery?” you prompt.

“She knows,” he nods, not meeting your eyes.

You raise an eyebrow, “you didn’t mention her name?”

“She was implied when I said family,” he replies.

“She was and I wasn’t,” you ask, the words not being filtered through your brain before you blurt them out. You don’t know why it hurt you so much, it just did.

“It’s not like that,” he shakes his head.

“Okay,” you reply flatly

He shoots you a knowing look and sighs, “y/n.”

“What? I said okay,” you exclaim, throwing your hands up into the air, “that means it’s okay, I’m okay, we’re all okay.”

“You don’t sound okay,” he says gently.

“Well I’m fine,” you snap.

“I didn’t mean it like that, of course you’re part of this family,” Jameson replies, trying to make up for it.

“Forget it, I don’t care,” you retort.

“Common y/n,” he groans.

“No it’s fine, I don’t care,” you shrug, very obviously caring as your voice is high pitched and you’re being far too defensive, “do what you want.”

“She just worked it out,” he explains, “she found out that-“

“I said I don’t care,” you say sharply, eyes pinned to his.

“I know you do,” he murmurs, taking a step closer.

“No I don’t,” you shake your head in denial, “end of story, what’s for dinner?”

“I know I’ve been with her a lot recently,” he sighs.

“A lot is an understatement,” you blurt out, unable to stop the thoughts that circle your mind from finally surfacing.

“It was all part of the game, you understand,” he says as a statement, not a question.

“Of course I understand,” you reply, your voice a little colder than you’d intended but it’s too late to take it back.

For a split second hurt flashed across Jameson’s features but he swiftly continues, “it was the old man’s game.”

“It always is with you,” you say curtly, with an eye roll.

“You knew what you were getting into when you became my girlfriend,” he says, growing irritated, “I warned you-“

“Getting into?” you scoff.

“The old man always has a game,” he presses on, regaining his cool.

“And you always play it,” you snap, the fury inside of your raging a little too violently to be tamed.

“I have to play,” he says, his voice strained.

“No. You don’t. You think you have to play and your grandfather knew that,” you reply, “he knew you had a thirst to play and wouldn’t resist. Prove him wrong Jamie, make him stir for the flipping grave.”

“And what if I don’t want to do that,” he asks, raising his voice slightly.

“Then you’re not the Jameson I know,” you murmur in a low, dark voice.

“Maybe I’m not anymore,” he shrugs, “people change.”

“No,” you shake your head, “people have changed you, one person in particular.”

“Avery is just a friend,” he rolls his eyes, “I don’t understand why you’re getting so hotheaded about it!”

“You’re dimming yourself down for her,” you yell.

“So what?” Jameson challenges, making the volume of your voice.

“That’s not you,” you tell him.

“Maybe it is now,” he cocks his head to the side.

“You know you’re just talking shit,” you spit.

“I like her company,” he shrugs, “and I don’t want to prove the old man wrong, I want to make him proud.”

He’s trying to get under your skin and you know it. He’s doing a good job.

“You can’t live your life trying to prove something to him, he won’t be proud, he’s dead Jameson,” you snap.

“I know he’s dead,” he shouts, “I don’t need you to tell me.”

“Good, now that information is consolidated maybe you’ll come back and live your life,” you say, the harshness in your tone making your throat ache.

“I am living my life,” he retorts.

“Running off with girls to the Laughlin’s cottage at 3am, that’s living your life?” you ask.

“Is this still about Avery?” he asks, then laughs, “you’re pathetic.”

“I’m pathetic?” you yell, “you have spent the majority of the past few weeks at her side, working this shit out and I’ve been patient and I let it happen and I waited but now there’s more to this mystery and I can’t do it again and it’s not fair for you to put me in that situation again. So forgive me if I’m sounding a little pathetic.”

“Fair? My uncle is still out there, still alive,” he replies.

“You never even knew him,” I roll my eyes.

“He’s family,” he roars.

Something about Jameson was that he was loyal to the bone when it came to family.

I shrug, “so was your grandfather and look how he treated you.”

“Don’t speak a word against him,” he says, his voice low, warning, dangerous

“You were never good enough for him and that killed you,” I reply, my voice failing to stay stable, “he broke you and I helped fix you and now we’re going back around the same cycle. Why are you still letting him continue to break you?”

“I said don’t speak a WORD against him!” he tells, his voice powerful

You could cry. You feel like it. But you don’t. For some reason you’re past tears now.

“But when you did it was okay?” I scream back, “when you’d come to your bedroom a wreck and shit talk him, who listened to you then huh? Don’t throw this all back in my face now, don’t you fucking dare.”

“I’m not trying to-“

“Well you are,” you cut him off,

He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head, “look I don’t know what the hell you’re on this afternoon but-“

“What the hell I’m on?” you scoff.

His face softens and so does his tone, “all this arguing we’re doing, it’s not us,” he says, “it never has been so are we really going to carry on this stupid fight?”

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask Avery?” you ask, it’s petty but you didn’t feel like being mature in this moment

“This keeps circling back to her,” he sighs with an eye roll.

“You have spent the entirety of the morning with her,” I stated “again.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” he says.

“Seriously?” I ask, my jaw hanging slack.

“What?”

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter,” you shake your head and begin to walk out.

“Sweetheart,” he says, lunging forwards to grab your arm. You spin around and can see the desperation seeping from his eyes.

“I’m going out,” you tell him harshly,

“Where?” he asks immediately.

“For a walk,” you shrug, going to turn again. But he holds you firmly in his grip.

“I’ll come with you,” he says.

“No, I need headspace right now,” you snap coldly.

“Okay, that’s fine,” he nods, eyes wide with understanding. You hated that he was being so nice when you were supposed to be mad at him, it wasn’t fair, “but at least take a bodyguard with you.”

“No,” you immediately say.

“Yes,” he argues back.

“I’m not one of you, Jameson,” you quip. You can see in his face that pains him but you’re too furious to care, “people aren’t coming for me, I’m not taking a bodyguard.”

“Look I’m sorry about before but-“

“It’s not about you Jameson,” you yell, “I just need a walk.”

“Okay, but I’m still sorry and please baby, take a bodyguard with you,” he begs.

“I’m not going to,” you reply, “I need to be alone.”

“Fine, okay then,” he shrugs, pretending not to care, “yeah fine, go have fun in nature or something.”

“I will,” you snap, charging out, slamming the door behind you.

***

You start walking with no intention of going anywhere. In a headspace of anger, your pace is swift and dominant. You needed air, you needed a clear head, you needed to get away. Bringing a bodyguard felt claustrophobic. You didn’t want another person breathing down your neck. You just needed to be alone for a while. A million and one thoughts swarm your mind. He probably complained about you to Avery, you think, kicking a rock violently. He’s probably with her right now, telling her what an annoying, selfish, jealous person you are and she’s probably comforting him. The thought of it makes your stomach squeeze.

It was getting darker and colder by the second. In your rage you’d forgotten to bring a hoodie and now you’re absolutely freezing. The street lights flicker on and you suddenly realise you have no idea where you are. You’re cold, alone, lost and a little hungry. You pray it doesn’t start to rain. You get out your phone quickly to look on google maps, but two red words flash up: no connection. Great. Just when you thought today couldn’t get any worse. You wish you hadn’t left the house now, but didn’t know which way to turn to walk back. You walk around the corner of a tall white building, hoping to see a signpost nearby.

That’s when you notice the footsteps of someone behind you. You turn absentmindedly to see a stranger dressed in all black clothing. You couldn’t properly see their face or decipher whether they were a man or woman. Feeling a little sceptical, you choose to cross to the other side of the road, trying to shake or anxious feelings that were creeping in. You spin the ring on your finger, trying to breathe in and out slowly. You side glance at the figure a few times to see that they’re still on the opposite side of the road. You exhale and turn the corner, feeling stupid for getting so het up over nothing.

You hear more footsteps and paranoid you look behind. You feel sick. The mystery stranger is back. Panic seizes your throat and you walk a little faster, noting their feet also pick up the pace. You turn a second corner. So do they. A thousand and one questions flashed up in your mind. What did they want? Why were they following you? And more importantly how long had they been following you for? You’re breathing heavily, maybe too heavily. You don’t want them to know you’re scared.

You fumble to reach your phone, hurriedly finding your contacts. You click Jameson’s name but the call fails. Your eyes flick to your internet, still none. You try again, the cycle repeats. Tears well up in your eyes. You were hopeless, helpless and frightened to death. You begin to fiddle anxiously with your necklace trying to work out what to do next, but your mind was blank. You couldn’t think. The person was a good few meters behind you now. A silent tear of rolls down your cheek as you carry on walking forwards, pretending you’re going somewhere in hope the follower might get bored a leave. They did not. You bite back and audible sob and notice one bar lights up in the top right hand corner of your phone screen. You have one bar of internet and you’ve never felt more relieved. Your finger rushes to hit the call button. One ring and he picks up. It’s a miracle.

“Sweetheart,” he breathes, a sense of relief and a smile in his voice.

“Jamie,” you say, your voice more panicked than you’d intended.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice is immediate and assertive but thick with anxiety. He can sense there’s something wrong, he knows.

“Jamie there’s someone following me,” you hyperventilate, the sharp sudden breaths hurting your chest.

“Where are you?” he asks.

“I don’t know,” you say, your voice shaky, “and I’m panicking.”

“Okay, don’t worry, just keep walking straight,” he instructs, “okay sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you murmur.

“Just breathe,” he soothes, “I’m tracking your location.”

You exhale unevenly and carry on walking.

“Are you near any buildings?” Jameson asks, strategically. You can tell he’s concentrated.

“There’s a housing complex and a few shops across the street,” you describe.

“Good,” he replies, “cross the road and go into one of the shops and stay in there.”

“Okay,” you answer, jogging across the road, taking note of anything that might help Jameson find you.

“What’s the name of the shop you’re going to go into?” he asks, “it might help me track you a little faster.”

You step back to read the cursive white letters, “Betty’s,” you reply, stepping in.

“That’s it?” he confirms.

“That’s it,” you say, carefully stepping inside, seeing the follower cross the road in the refection of the shop window.

Your heart thuds in your chest as the little bell rings to announce your entrance in the shop. It was one of those little knick-knack type shops, small but compact. You pretend to admire a china tea set.

“Are you inside?” Jameson asks, his voice washing some sort of comfort over you.

“Yes,” you say quickly, subconsciously tracing the tablecloth deign with your index finger.

“Have they followed you inside?” he asks.

“No,” you reply, though you haven’t looked up, the shop bell definitely has not rung since your arrival. You are the only customer in this shop. You look up and see them standing outside, you catch their eye and fear flicker through you as you quickly turn away, jolts of sheer nauseating panic runs up and down your abdomen, “Jamie they’re waiting outside, oh god Jameson they’re waiting outside, for me to come out, oh god.”

“Hey! Hey! You have the stay calm,” he says sharply but kindly, “as long as you’re in there you’re safe and I’m on my way now.”

“You found where I am?” you breathe, sounding too much like a child than you care to admit.

“I’m getting into the car as we speak,” he replies.

He’s coming. You tell yourself. You’re going to be okay. You say in your head.

“Stay on the line with me,” you blurt out, “please.”

“Of course baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he says, the concern in his voice made you yearn to be in his arms.

The other end of the phone goes silent except for the sound of a car engine, gently groaning in motion. You try to distract yourself by admiring the little collection of ceramic mouse figurines and try to give all of them a name. That’s when you catch the stranger in your peripheral.

“Jameson I’m scared,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “I’m really scared.”

“I’m coming, just hang in there okay,” he comforts “breathe for me.”

“Jameson,” you exhale, your hands becoming increasingly more restless.

“Hey, sweetheart, take a breath with me okay?” he says, “together?”

“Together,” you nod, despite the fact that he can’t see you, but somewhere deep down you know he knows you’re nodding.

“In through your nose and out through your mouth, okay?” he replies.

I’m through your nose and out through your mouth. You repeat the motion over and over with him over the phone, until you’re bored.

“I’m nearly there,” he mentions after a while.

“You promise?” you say, your breath hitching.

“I promise, just stay where you are,” he says calmly.

“Okay,” you reply.

“Sorry honey we close at 11:00,” comes a voice.

It makes you jump at first, as you yelp in surprise at the old woman beside you. Where had she appeared from? You drop your phone and it crashes to the floor. You realise for the first time how tightly you’d had it pressed to the side of your face as the cold air rushes to that spot and you feel the sticky sweat. You scramble to pick up your phone.

“I’m fine,” you reassure Jameson quickly, before turning the the woman, “sorry, would I be able to stay a few more minutes?”

She glances disapprovingly at you and then her watch, “I don’t think so.”

“It won’t be long, I promise,” you rush.

“I’m sorry but I have to lock up now,” she shakes her head and waves the keys between her fingers.

“Just until my boyfriend gets here,” you try again, desperation slicing through your tone.

“You’re not purchasing anything and it’s closing hours,” she replied sternly, “I need to lock up.”

“Please,” you beg.

“Store policy I’m afraid,” she shrugs flatly.

“I’ll but the whole damn place of you let me stay,” you exclaim, not really sure why the sentence left your mouth but it was too late to take it back now.

“This place isn’t for sale,” she says sourly with pursed wrinkled lips.

“Not literally,” you sigh, “look I’ll make a purchase.”

“No purchases after 11:00,” she responds, blunt as a baseball bat.

“But you just said-“

“We’re closed,” she snaps.

“Please just let me stay for five minutes,” you ask, hoping by some miracle she’ll agree.

“I really can’t do that,” she sighs, with an almost apologetic look on her face “I’m sorry.”

“Two minutes?” you try to compromise.

She stares through you, “I’m going to call the police.”

“There’s someone out there following me outside,” you burst, “so please, if you’re going to call the police on anyone, do it on them.”

The woman gently cocks her head to see the mysterious figure outside the window, her eyes widen by the tiniest fraction and she stares back at you. You wonder what she’s thinking. She chews her lip thoughtfully for a while and then finally replied, “there’s a back way out, I can take you through to there.”

“Thank you,” you exhale in relief.

She walks hurriedly walks away and you follow her, ending up at the very back of the shop. It couldn’t be seen from the window, but how long would it take for the follower to realise? Not long enough, you pray, hoping Jameson would arrive in time. There is a small green door with a lacy translucent curtain across the window.

“Here,” she nods towards it, “get home safe.”

“Thanks,” you say gratefully.

You almost trip out of the back door but managed to stabilise yourself, the old woman slams to door and it nearly clips your heals. You quickly press your phone back to your ear, realising Jameson is still on the line.

“Jamie?” you say.

“I’m still here,” he replies, reading your mind, “Betty’s a bitch.”

You choke on your own spittle, “what?”

“Betty,” he states as if it’s obvious.

“Betty?” you question, hoping he’ll elaborate.

“Well I assume it’s her name,” he says, you could practically hear him shrug, “the woman who just kicked you out of her shop.”

“Oh, you heard all of that?” you say.

“I did,” he confirms, “but I’m two minutes away now.”

“Two minutes?” you check, hope returning your voice.

“Yeah,” he confirms gently.

“I’m still at the back,” you mention, “but I’ll walk to the front to meet you.”

“Okay,” he replies, “I’m so close sweetheart, don’t worry.”

“Okay I-“

All the air is knocked from your lungs as you turn the corner and someone grabs your shoulders and it’s so sudden you forget to scream. Fear runs cold and thick through your veins. You can’t move. The grip is strong and foreign, their hands are callous and your arms ache the longer you’re in their hold. Paralysed, you fail to struggle free. It all happens in a blur. You feel yourself being thrown to the side and you land on the pavement with a hard thump after rolling over your ankle. Pain seizes through it and you bite back a yelp. You look up, struggling to your feet and see Jameson has arrived.

Jameson. Jameson. Jameson.

He’s fighting the mysterious follower who you can now see is man. He’s a few inches taller than Jameson and has much more muscle but Jameson is quicker, more agile. You wish you could help him but the searing agony deriving from your ankle would’ve only made him slower. So you’re now just watching. It’s a tête-a-tête of frantic hits and blocks, all scarily aggressive. The look in Jameson’s eyes is not one you recognise, it’s like the green had been frosted over with ice. The follower lunges at him suddenly and an audible gasp escapes your lips. He has Jameson in a headlock. You stumble forwards, ready to attack him from behind when Jameson twists the man’s arms in an awkward direction, leaving him vulnerable. In the split second Jameson knees him in the stomach and begins to punch him repeatedly.

Jameson’s jaw is clenched, his hair is ragged and wild. A flow of crimson red liquid falls from one nostril and from a new wound just above his eyebrow. His eyes are fierce and gleaming, like a predator on its prey. You’re not sure you know who this man is, he’s not Jameson, he’s a mutation, a weapon, a unrecognisable being.

“Jamie,” you murmur, your voice shaking. You can’t stop yourself, you’re too scared.

He can’t hear properly, he doesn’t even acknowledge you. He carries on punching and punching but the follower seems to be cold out.

“Jameson stop! You’re scaring me!” you yell, fear in your throat but fire in your belly.

He looks up and he freezes, all but his hands that are shaking from the adrelenline rush. He looks down at his bloodied knuckles to the limp figure on ground, then back to me again. He can see the fright in my features that I’m so desperately trying to conceal.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he says, “it’s okay, let’s go home.”

“Is he dead?” you say, the words so much harsher than you intended.

“No,” he shakes his head gently, “just knocked out, I promise.”

“I-“ you can’t finish the sentence.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs tentatively, wrapping an arm around you to still your trembling torso.

“I’m fine,” you say, trying to sound strong, but synthetic strength only made you sound weaker.

“You’re not fine,” he shakes his head.

“Let’s just get out of here,” you sigh, then look at him with sparkling eyes, “please?”

“Of course,” he says, concern bleeding across his features.

You begin to walk but have to bite your lip as pain rips through your ankle with weight pressing down on it.

“What wrong?” Jameson asks, his reaction instant and lightning fast.

“Nothing,” you shake your head, trying to carry on without displaying the pain.

But he’s too vigilant for his own good, “are you hurt?”

“No, it’s fine,” you reply, in denial, “I’m fine.”

You’ve found that things are easier to believe if you say them out loud. Unfortunately not in this case.

“Where?” he asks, stopping still, pressing gently down your arms to check for tentative pressure points.

You pull away, “Jamie I’m-“

“Where?” he asks firmly, giving me that look.

“I just rolled over my ankle,” you sigh, “it’s not a big deal.”

“Do you want me to carry you?” he offers.

“No,” you say quickly, too quickly.

The truth was, you did want to be carried. The thought of being in his protective arms, pressed up against his chest was very appealing. But just like he could see your winces and hear your sharp breaths in, you notice his. The fight hadn’t been easy on him, no matter how stubbornly he tries to hide it.

“Just support me and I’ll support you,” you reply.

“I don’t need support,” he says.

You stare at him, “you don’t have to be the knight in shining armour with me, I thought you’d stopped that.”

You’d made a pact at the start of your relationship that Jameson couldn’t play that role. You were there for each other, it wasn’t one or the other.

“Fine,” he grits through his teeth, “we’ll support each other.”

You both walk, labouring, limping and leaning on one another. In the silence of it all you have time to think about all that had happened, a chances you hadn’t previously had with your mind always preoccupied on something else. A tidal wave of guilt almost drowns you.

“I’m sorry,” you burst out suddenly, feeling all of a sudden emotional, as tears run down your face.

You didn’t realise how much yours been keeping it in, your fear, your pain, your guilt, your sorrow.

“Hey, shhhh,” he soothes, caressing your cheek, “shhh shh stop that now, hey, hey.”

“I shouldn’t have left,” you shake your head, “I shouldn’t have got so angry and walked so far alone and it was dark-“

“Y/n, breathe,” Jameson murmurs, “I’m not angry, it’s not your fault, I’m just glad you’re safe now, okay? I would never let him hurt you, you know that right?”

You nod.

“Let’s get to the car and then we can go home, okay?” he suggests softly.

“Okay,” you murmur in response.

He wraps his arm back around your shoulders and holds your hand with the other, steering you towards his car. He walks around to your door, looking over his shoulder cautiously, making sure you are in and safe before he thinks of himself. You’ve never felt safer in a car, your back pressed up against the seat. Your leg bobs up and down uncontrollably, even when your try to stop it. Seems the adrenaline had gotten to you more than you’d thought.

Jameson is swift to get into the driver’s seat and start the car. He silently places his hand on your upper thigh to still the shaking. The warmth of his familiar touch relaxes some of the built up worry in your chest. One knot has been untied from the incomprehensible ball.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

You nod numbly. You didn’t reply with words in fear that you’d spill out the truth. Lying to Jameson was a challenge.

“Stupid question,” he mumbles, “of course you’re not.”

“I think I’m still trying to process what just happened,” you murmur, not a complete lie. You’d only processed parts.

“Okay, that’s fine, take as long as you need,” he says reassuringly, “I’m here if you want to talk.”

You nod again. Then take a breath.

“I’m sorry,” you say, choked up with emotion, “I’m sorry for fighting, I don’t know why I get so annoyed it’s just-“

“It doesn’t matter, all that matters is that you’re safe,” he tells you gently.

“Safe,” you repeat, the word has an odd texture on your tongue.

“You are safe,” Jameson replies firmly.

“I am safe,” you repeat, believing it a little more.

***

The two of you had gotten back to Hawthorne House late. No one was around so no questions were asked. But whilst you showered and changed Jameson insisted on getting the security team on it and you didn’t object. You join Jameson in your shared room after your shower, he’s already waiting with open arms. You clamber into the bed and fall onto his chest. The smell of him indescribably addictive. He wraps his arms around your torso and you wince, tenderness spreading across the tops of your arms and upper back.

“What hurts baby?” he asks, eyebrows knotted with worry.

“Nothing,” you reply, shrugging the pain off.

He looks at you, “you don’t have to lie to me.”

You’re silent for a few beats but then finally murmur, “my arms.”

“Let me see,” he says.

“It’s okay-“

“Let me see,” he whispers, sending a hot shiver down your spine. 

You slowly slip of your jumper and expose the rounded bruises from the follower’s fingers. You’d discovered them moments ago in the bathroom, it must’ve been from where he’d grabbed you. You can’t see Jameson’s face but judging by the thick blanket of tense air that had enveloped your surroundings, you have a good idea of what he’s thinking.

“He did this?” he asks, tracing every bruise so delicately it nearly tickles.

“Jamie he grabbed me,” you explain.

“I’ll kill him for laying a finger on you,” he spits, a foreign violence in his tone you weren’t sure you liked.

“Don’t say that,” you say before you can stop yourself.

“What?” he looks at you in wild disbelief.

“Talk of killing him,” you close your eyes, “you’re not a murderer.”

He opens his mouth.

“Don’t you dare argue with me,” you snap, a raw intensity in your voice. You struggle to recall where you found it.

Silence you like a car hits roadkill. Swiftly and out of nowhere with a sickening thud.

“You know you scared me back there,” you murmur, meeting his eyes shyly.

“Me?”

“When you were punching him…” you trail off, “you looked so angry.”

“I was angry” he retorts, “no one should do that, especially not to you. Never to you.”

“Yeah but I really thought you might…” you stop yourself.

“I might what?” he urges you to continue.

“I don’t know,” you say trying to brush it off, “it doesn’t matter.”

“No it does,” he replies, “you thought I might kill him right?”

“It just wasn’t you punching that guys, it wasn’t my Jameson,” you murmur.

“Your Jameson doesn’t protect you,” he yells and you flinch slightly.

You don’t meet his eye, “no, not like that.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just…” he sighs, “I never would’ve forgiven myself if something had happened to you.”

“It would’ve been my fault for storming off like that, god I’m so stupid,” emotion rises thick in your throat.

“Hey, stop beating yourself up about this,” Jameson says, “it was my fault in the first place.”

“No it wasn’t-“

“Yes it was, let’s just forget about this okay,” he insists.

“But what if he comes back? What if he knows where I am? What did he want with me Jamie? What if-“

“It’s all going to be sorted okay, we have so many staff on it right this second,” he says tracing the outlines of your knuckles, “you just need to breathe.”

“I am breathing,” you grit through your teeth.

“What’s worrying you then?” he asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you reply, biting back a sob.

He senses the emotion, “come here.”

You practically collapse into his arms, keeping your tears at bay just barely. There’s something about being in his arms, against the warmth of his body that made the bad things go quiet for a second, that stopped the overwhelming voices in your head, that silences your thudding heart. But even now, things were unusually playing on your mind, despite the comfort.

“I don’t know Jamie,” you murmur into his chest, “I’m scared and exhausted and anxious and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“Let me help you,” he whisper, gently running his fingers through your hair.

“I don’t think you can,” you mumble, your eyes grappling to stay open.

“I will find a way,” he says, you almost laugh at his stubbornness.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you reply, your voice breaking, “I don’t know anything bad to happen.”

“You’re not going to lose me and I won’t let anything bad happen,” Jameson kisses the top of your head, “I promise.”

“I don’t feel safe,” you admit.

“What’s making you feel unsafe baby?” he asks, aching concern in his voice.

“Before today I’d never even imagined potentially being kidnapped and it just happened today,” you ramble, “and that means there’s so many other things that I couldn’t ever have imagine that might happen.”

“If we spend our whole lives in fear of what might happen we’d forget to live,” Jameson says.

You meet his emerald eyes and try not to melt, “I’m scared.”

“There’s no need to be,” he comforts, “I’m here.”

“You promise?”

“Always,” he says. His voice is so sure, so strong. It almost makes you believe.

“And you’re not going anywhere?”

“Not anywhere without you,” he grins lopsidedly, the real Jameson shining through making your cheeks tint a pale pink.

“I’m sorry,” you say again, the residing guilt flowing back in.

“If you apologise one more time I’m going to do a lyrical dance routine to ‘hot stuff’ only dressed in sequinned hot pants and a top hat,” he says.

“I think I’d quite like to see that,” you can’t help but smile, “I should apologise more often.”

He chuckles softly and kisses the top of your head. You nuzzle into the nape of his neck and allow one tear to slip from the under your mask. Just one.

“I’ve got you baby and I’m not letting go,” Jameson whispers.

“Please don’t let me go,” you murmur, sounding as small as a child.

“I’m not, never ever,” he murmurs, kissing your nose, then cheeks and then a soft kiss on your lips.

You smile, a fluttery feeling in your chest and you kiss him back. His hands snake around your waist, the tentative touch making you tingle a little. You wish you could just focus on Jameson and nothing else but the problem was the scene kept replaying in your head. The man grabbing your shoulders, the bruises left on your skin, the smell of his cologne in your hair. He was everywhere.

“Hey sweetheart, it’s okay,” Jameson soothes, “you’re safe now.”

It’s only then you notice how your entire body is shaking, your bones rattling together. You try to stop but you can’t. He brings you into deeper his arms and holds your quivering limbs together. You wonder if he let go you’d fall apart all together.

***

You didn’t go to school the next day, instead you stayed curled up in Jameson’s arms as he gently traced spirals across your back with his index finger.

You can’t remember the last time you’d felt so in love.

***

Thursday rolls around far too quickly and you know you have to go back. Word about the stalker had been kept quiet but you know you couldn’t stay under your duvet forever. No matter how badly you wanted to. So you wake up early and take your time getting ready. Jameson sleeps like the dead all the way through it, even when you blow dry your hair. You meet Xander who is already at breakfast, eating muffins. You’d promised the week before you’d come and observe his biology project for him, so he could have a second opinion and you didn’t want to break that promise.

“You know you really didn’t have to come,” he says, still chewing, “after you know…”

“I want to Xand, really,” you say, “I can’t avoid it forever and I want to see your project.”

“If you’re sure?” he checks, with an eyebrow raise.

“I’m sure,” you nod, “I swear.”

“Well then, have a muffin or two and then we’ll be on our way,” he grins, handing me one from the plate in the centre.

“Roger that sir,” you smile back, saluting him as you take a bite.

***

School was difficult that day, not the content, just the energy. The problem was you had none. And it was one of those long modified timetable days where your first break of the day was lunch and it wasn’t even until 2:00pm. That in itself was a mood killer. On top of that you couldn’t get the follower out of your head. The events played on some sort of endless loop in your head. You wonder who it might be, why they might have been following you of all people. It was known you were dating Jameson but not that known. Apparently, according to Xander, Oren had been put on high alert and Alisa was working on finding their identity. That should have brought you solace. It didn’t.

But the more you thought about it the more your realised that part of you selfishly didn’t mind that it has happened too much because last night you’d felt more connected to Jameson than you had in forever. It had been a while since it had just been the two of you, no mysteries, no arguments, no Avery. Yesterday had solely been the two of you, all day. Just in the presence of one another but, at school, you hadn’t seen Jameson all morning, seen as you’d left for school early with Xander but he had sent you a string of text messages that you only see at first on your very late lunch break.

morning sweetheart

are you okay??

I know you left early with Xand but I’m still worried about you

text me for ANYTHING okay??

I love you xx

And then an hour later…

you still haven’t text back

are you okay??

I bribed the woman at the front desk for your schedule so you’re probably in class right now

unless you’re not!!

just answer me when you can okay

I love you

Then in the next hour…

ARE YOU OKAY!?

I HAVEN’T SEEN YOU IN THE HALLWAYS

PLEASE ANSWERRR!!!!

I love you ;)

You almost laugh at the cuteness of it all. You type a couple of messages in response incase he bribed the headteacher to let him use the announcement speaker to find you next.

I’m fine Jamie, don’t worry

late lunch break sorry I couldn’t text sooner

They bleep through one after the other, sending through.

meet you after school for our plans

You close your phone quickly and get to the next class, holding your books tightly to your chest. The next few periods better go fast.

***

They didn’t go fast. In fact every millisecond felt like an hour, the day seemed endless. You get out of class and don’t pass Jameson in any hallways yet again sk decide to go to your usual meeting spot after school. You send him a quick message.

waiting outside business studies

You wait for him by the curb. One minute passes, he’s been a minute late before, many times. So you figure it’s okay, leaning on the wall behind you. Five minutes go by next and most kids are leaving or have left the school premises. Maybe his class has run over, your brain suggests. Then it is ten minutes, barely anyone is walking out. The odd person, sure, but never Jameson. You begin to wonder where he might be. Detention? No, he always finds a way out of those. Basketball court? No, he doesn’t like to play with the other guys. Classroom? No, he wouldn’t spend longer than he had to in the school. You sigh, ten minutes isn’t that long after all. Maybe you’re overreacting. Still, you send him another text ‘hey, are you nearly here?’ Half an hour passes. That’s when you get really confused. He should definitely be here by now. Slowly you wonder down several hallways, checking your phone for any messages, calls or voicemails, but there are none. Few students are around and every time you look into a classroom Jameson isn’t there. You make your way back to your original spot, incase he turned up. Forty minutes pass and you try his phone for the last time, ringing him rather than just texting but it goes straight to voicemail. So you resort to calling Xander, hoping he’ll be able to help and ease the tightening knot of worry growing in your chest. There is only two rings.

“Hello y/n,” Xander’s cheerful voice says down the other end, “is there any reason you’re phoning the best Hawthorne on this fine afternoon?”

“Yeah, sorry Xand,” you reply, “but have you seen Jamie anywhere?”

“Don’t be sorry,” he tells me, “and I think I saw him come in earlier, I just presumed you were with him.”

Too many juxtaposed emotions hit you at once. Relief, he’s okay, he’s alive, he’s at home. Hurt, he left without you, abdomen or forgot the plans you had. Annoyance, he’d left without sparing you a second thought.

“No,” you mutter, “I wasn’t.”

“You sound annoyed,” Xander comments.

“I’m fine, sorry Xand,” you reply, putting some more life into your voice to wash away and tense notes, “it’s been a long day.��

“Don’t I know it,” he sighs, “but hey it’s the weekend now, fancy a game of strip bowling when you get back?”

Strip bowling was one of your favourites, mostly because you were very good at it and barely had to strip and also because Jameson usually ended up in his underwear. Xander must’ve sensed the false happiness in your voice and suggested it to be nice.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you say, trying to let him down gently. You did appreciate the gesture, but the thought of playing stop bowling right now did not match the mood.

“Yeesh your day was that bad huh?” he asks softly, playing it off as jokey.

“I’ll be okay,” you reassure him quietly.

“I’m here you know,” he reminds you.

“Thanks Xander,” you reply, but don’t elaborate. You didn’t feel like talking right now.

“Talk to Jamie, he’ll know how to make you feel better,” he suggests sweetly.

You smile through your pain, “yeah, I’ll give it a go.”

You hang up and exhale slowly, he doesn’t know that Jameson is your problem.

***

You get back to Hawthorne house about twenty minutes later. It sounds relatively empty, though it always does, seen as there were so many possible places for people to be. You wander through the entrance, trying to think where Jameson might be. You hear footsteps approaching and spin around to see a blonde in a suit. Wrong brother.

“Have you seen Jameson?” you ask him before he can greet you.

“He was upstairs earlier, with Avery,” Grayson replies.

All the air is knocked from your stomach, “Avery?”

“You didn’t know?” his expression flashed for a fraction of a second into something between guilt and shame before it is composed.

“No…” you trail off.

“Oh,” he replies, with an unreadable expression back on.

“Well thanks anyway,” you say with a synthetic smile.

You walk away quickly before he can respond, looking up with glossy eyes. You ascend the stairs quickly and don’t look back. You feel you need to see for yourself did this is true. But where would he take Avery? You could only hope it wasn’t the roof where the two of you stargazed, that would hurt like hell. You trail down a hallway where voices are coming from and stumble upon a door that is ajar. Inside, Jameson talking to Avery. Your stomach rolls uncomfortably. He’s positioned barely a foot a way and he’s laughing. He looks so beautiful when he laughs, but now it’s ugly. It’s like biting into something sweet and getting a sour taste. It’s not the fact that she made him laugh, it’s the fact he’s laughing like he laughs when he’s with you. That’s the thing that cuts deep. The way his eyes are sparkling and his smile is wide and carefree, you thought he reserved those kind of smiles only for you.

Clearly not.

You turn your back on the scene and rush to your bedroom. You swing the door open forcefully and then slam it shut behind you. So he’d ditched your plans for her. Great. You sigh as you collapse down on your bed feeling an unwelcome tightness squeezing across your chest. Tears well up in your eyes. You didn’t like to cry, you rarely ever did. But right now, you couldn’t do anything about it. The tears just flowed down your cheeks and your whole body shook with each sob. Your heart physically ached, something you hadn’t thought was possible until this moment. A searingly mournful agony rippling through the left side your the chest. You felt so vulnerable, so exposed. You didn’t stop crying the blanket was soaked through, weighted with wet emotion and your throat was so raw it was numb.

***

You binge movies for the rest of the evening, the only feeling left in your system was anger, you’d cried all the sadness out. You felt so done with feeling shit and binging movies gave you that outlet of doing nothing, thinking nothing and feeling nothing. Exhaustion is beginning to win the ongoing battle between the two of you when you hear soft footsteps approaching. Jameson had been practically out of your mind the whole evening, Disney movies are a good distraction, but that is until he walks in. You hear as the door handle turns and he enters. Your eyes flicker to the clock, it’s just gone midnight.

“Hey sweetheart,” he murmurs, taking his suit jacket off and undoing his top button, “you’re up late.”

“What do you want?” you ask, eyes glued to Elsa’s performance of ‘let it go’ on the tv screen.

He immediately notices something is off and walks over, “woah, hey, what’s wrong?”

“Oh so now you care?” you scoff, looking him dead in the eye.

“What did I do?” he asks quickly, cluelessly.

“You are unbelievable,” you exclaim, switching the movie off before hurling the control across the room.

Jameson stares in disbelief, “why are you so pissed off?”

“You don’t know why I’m annoyed?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“No…” he replies hesitantly, like he’s treading on egg shells.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously,”

“Oh my god,” you laugh bitterly, shaking your head, “tell me you’re joking, please.”

“I’m not joking,” he says, the desperation and worry evident in his tone.

“Do you even know what we were supposed to do today?” you ask with a withered look.

A moment of realisation strikes and you notice as his eyes widen and his jaw drops a little.

“Shit. I’m sorry, I forgot,” he says, actually looking guilty. You almost feel sorry for him.

“Yeah I know,” you deadpan, folding your arms across your chest.

“There’s just been a lot going on lately and with the following and then I was days behind on the thing with Toby and-“

“Am I some sort of burden,” you retort, eyebrows raised.

“What? No! I never said that,” he exclaims, his voice raised.

“Okay,” you shrug, nonchalantly. The small display of passive aggression would get under his skin, prickling it like an unscratchable itch.

“Last time we argued it ended with you being followed, I don’t want you in that situation again,” he says, his voice dominant and definitive.

“You’re making this about you!” you yell, rage blinding your vision, “what you want, for me!”

“Oh so you want to be followed, stalked?” he asks, with a forced cruel laugh.

“That’s not what I said,” you snap, eyes narrowed.

“Sounds like it,” he bites back, the bitterness in his voice hurting you far more than you cared to admit.

You don’t say anything for a long while but eventually cut through the long silence, “I even text you about it,” you say quietly.

“What?” he replies, head cocked to the side, confused.

“About tonight,” you say, raising your hands into the air with an eye roll.

“No you didn’t!” he yells back, defensively.

“Yes I did,” you scream.

“Look, this is the last message I got,” he exclaims, shoving his phone’s bright screen into your face.

‘late lunch break sorry I couldn’t text sooner’

You stare at the message and then quickly open your phone to double check. Your message hadn’t gone through, you look up glaring at him. You were mad he didn’t remember, mad the message never went through and just mad in general.

“It didn’t go through, I couldn’t help it,” he defends.

“You still forgot,” you press on, getting mor annoyed by the second, “I shouldn’t have to remind you that you have plans with your girlfriend.”

“Look, I’m really sorry,” he replies and you can see the meaning in his face, “we’ll reschedule.”

“I don’t want to do it anymore,” you tell him nonchalantly. You know you’re being petty, but you can’t help it.

“Oh common y/n,” he says.

“No I don’t,” you shrug. He’d messed it up, that opportunity was passed now.

“Look I just needed to-“

“What you needed to do was stick to your word, what you needed to do was remember when you had things plans, what you needed to do was think before you acted,” you say in a low voice, interrupting him, “but you did none of that.”

“I can’t have a life now?” he scoffs, growing irritated, “that’s not you.”

“What’s not me?” you scowl.

“This, right now,” he says, “you’re being so controlling!”

You raise your eyebrows, almost laughing, “controlling? You started this argument!”

“No I didn’t!” he argues.

“You know what, if you didn’t want to have it out then you shouldn’t have asked why I was angry,” you roll your eyes, “so just forget about it.”

“Oh would you STOP doing that,” he yells.

“What?”

“The whole ‘forget about it’ thing, it’s so fucking annoying,” he retorts, anger creeping up in his tone.

“You know what else is annoying?” you ask him, “when your boyfriend is hanging out constantly with some random girl who inherited all his grandfather’s money, that’s really fucking annoying.”

He’s silent. Nothing to say for once. No witty reply, no deflection, nothing. His face is impossible to read, blank.

“Hang on, that’s not quite the right word,” you continue, “what about aggravating, demoralising, hurtful-“

“You know I never would’ve pinned you as a jealous possessive girlfriend,” he shakes his head, with a cruel chuckle.

“I’m not!” you snap, “but you lied Jameson, why did you feel the need to lie!?”

“Lie?”

“You told me a few days ago you’d climbed a wall and if I hadn’t known any better I would’ve believed you,” you say, “but you weren’t climbing a wall, you were with Avery.”

“This,” he says exasperatedly, “this is exactly the reason I lied.”

“What?” you ask.

“This overreaction,” he explains, making some weird hand gesture.

“I’m overreacting?” you scoff, as your eyebrows shoot to your forehead.

“Completely,” he exclaims.

“So let me just get this straight,” you begin, “you’d have never pinned me as a jealous possessive girlfriend but you lied to me about ditching our plans to spend time with another girl because you were worried about an overreaction? Right, that makes sense.”

“I’m sorry,” he exhales, “I’m sorry.”

“No you can’t just say sorry and then think it’s all going to be okay,” you shake your head, “sorry is just a stupid word, it means nothing.”

“I didn’t mean to say what I said just now and I am sorry that I hurt you,” Jameson says desperately, “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s not just that! You blew off our plans for her,” you yell with a sob, “so yeah that kind of fucking hurts.”

“Sweetheart I didn’t mean to-“

“Yeah well you did,” you laugh bitterly, aggressively wiping away your tears, “and I’m crying over it which is just stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he tells you gently.

“Yes it is stupid Jameson,” you snap, the tears only flowing thicker and faster, “I feel like an idiot.”

“You shouldn’t,” he insists.

“Well I do, I’m such an idiot. I’m an idiot for fighting with you, I’m an idiot for getting myself followed, I’m an idiot for thinking that someone could actually love me, I’m an idiot for not seeing the signs sooner and I’m an idiot for crying over it all now,” you snivel, roughly scrubbing your tear-stained cheeks.

“Woah, hey,” he says, “sweetheart I love you. Just you.”

“Well it doesn’t feel like it lately,” you say, choking back a sob desperate to leave your throat.

His face softens, “sweetheart…”

He reaches out to touch me but you flinch away. His gentle touch is only a reminder of the good person he is and how much you love him for it. And you can’t afford to fall for it, not again, the pain was too much.

“You’re hurting me Jamie,” you say, your voice breaking as you jab a finger to your heart, “this is hurting me.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmurs, as his eyes mellow.

“If you want to be with her I’d rather you just tell me,” you whimper, “it would save me the pain of all this back and forth and sneaking around and finding out. Just tell me straight.”

“I don’t want to be with Avery,” he says, “I never have.”

“You don’t look at me how you look at her,” you say bitterly, getting it off of your chest.

“You’re right I don’t,” he agrees. Your heart plummets, here it comes, the confession, the break up, the empty sorrys and eyes filled with tears. “I don’t look at you like I look at her, because I look at her like any other person on this planet, but when I look at you I’m looking at my world. And I’d sure as hell hope that differs from the look that I gave to everyone else.”

A wave of emotion coats your skin, soaking you through. His world. The words repeat over and over and over until you feel delirious.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” you whisper.

“Of course I do,” he sighs, “don’t you understand? I love you, it’s always been you, it will never not be you! You’re my person, you’re my other half, I was supposed to meet you and fall in love with you. You give me purpose and passion and so much more. When you called me the other night after our fight I’ve never been more frightened in my life, I was freaking out over here. I’ve never felt so panicked, so sick with the thought of someone being hurt. I’m in so love with you that I can’t even explain it and I can’t believe I led you to doubt it. Avery is a friend, I promise, she means nothing to me compared to you, trust me. How can I prove that to you?”

“I don’t know Jameson,” you shout, your head aching from this endless circle of arguments.

“Then marry me!” he yells, then his voice softens, “marry me.”

You freeze, every muscle in your body suddenly falling into a state of paralysis, “what?”

“You heard me,” he says, his expression too serious.

“Jameson,” you murmur, barely getting his name out.

“Marry me.”

a/n: I’m a sucker for fat dramatic impulse decisions (it’s a problem, you may have gathered from my more recent fics) SOZ GUYS 😘😘 anywayyysss the time frame is roughly (and I mean very ROUGHLY) based around chapters 11-13 of the Hawthorne brothers incase you were wondering

thanks for the req anon, so sorry again for the wait, hope you enjoyed the read 🤍🤍 if you made it to the end and didn’t DNF halfway through, well done!! can you guys tell I got way too carried away, this fic was so all over the place but I posted it anyway bc yolo

there will be no part 2!! sorry!! I really need a break from reqs… you decide how you answer 🤭🤭

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