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yesimwriting · 3 months ago

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A Matter of Timing

Midway part 2!! read part one here: Midway

Summary: Despite the hardships of your marriage to Aegon, the two of you reach a new understanding during the aftermath of his accident.

Warnings/info: forced marriage turned to awkward, subtle pining masquerading as friendship, descriptions of (chronic) pain, aegon's recovery being sped up slightly through a small time skip for the sake of plot, slight aemond slander, canon compliant incest (reader is rhaenyra's daughter)

----

The light spilling in through the window is a beacon, the warmth of it offering the king's apartments something beyond the somber sterility that followed his father throughout his final years.

At times, if Aegon allows his mind to dwell on the similarities between his situation and Viserys's the ache of his body morphs into something else, an all consuming beast that nearly makes him wish Sunfyre's wing had never cradled his broken body. It'd be a simple thing to spend the rest of his days being constantly mended within the safe confines of this room.

Someone else would rule in his place--like his mother and grandsire had done for his father--likely the same man, the same brother that betrayed him, and Aegon's role as a vestigial only ever visited out of obligation would be cemented into reality.

"I'm sure you're tired of novels..." The voice is not much different than the sun's light, a thing of warmth. His father did not have anything similar to you. "But I do not have much to speak of."

Aegon believes it. His authority was one of the few things holding you to your position. Now, with him here, he imagines your existence within the Red Keep has only grown more precarious. His mother had been petitioning to separate you from the monarchy since before the incident. He can't imagine anyone of significance telling you anything.

"Your small council meets often, which seems to be occupying a great deal of your mother's time." Your summary is blank, straightforward as you search your thoughts for information he might be interested in. "Aemond's recently been named regent, though I'm sure someone must have told you that already."

Aemond. The confirmation of his suspicions jabs at him, the assuring nature of your voice briefly losing its hold on him. He begs his body, his mind to cry out...All he can manage is a rasp that's almost a name and twitch of his fingers.

The seat you've pulled next to his bed side creaks as you shift. You've always been encouraging of his movements, invested in each sign of the life still clinging to him in a way that implies a devotion someone like you could never feel for him. "Aegon?" He tries again, another ragged distortion of his brother's name. "Are you--Do you want him?"

No. You are the only one that seems to be on his side entirely. You may detest his family, you may desire your mother's rule, but his recovery matters to you. Even with your care, he has no way to express what he needs to.

He squints his eyes open, a task that takes more from him than he'd ever admit. His sight is weak, the side of his face that took the worst of Vhagar's flames agitated by the effort. You're close enough for him to make out your features, your expression. With your eyebrows pinched together like that, you look a little younger, like the girl that used to pretend to understand the crude jokes made by her brothers and uncles.

You shift closer, your hand finding a place on his bed. With trembling fingers, Aegon manages to place his hand over yours. Your gaze dips downwards, briefly landing on where your fingers meet before finding his features again. You study him with a focus that'd be unnerving coming from anyone else.

Your lips part before you're ready to speak. "You don't want Aemond here." It's not a question.

Your understanding reaches something deep inside of him. The relief offers him the strength needed to tilt his chin downwards, an approximation of a nod. You let out a breath, a question clearly waiting on the tip of your tongue.

The sound of assured footsteps stops you from asking it. You press your lips together, attention shifting towards the room's entrance. The door groans as it's pulled open, the footsteps continue, clearer now. Aegon's eyes flit towards the doorway in time to see his brother.

Instead of looking at the results of his betrayal, Aemond's eye settles on something just past Aegon. You. "Your grace."

Dread coils itself inside Aegon's stomach. His fingers bend as much as he can will them to, his hold on you attempting to convey anything that might get you to stay away from Aemond.

Overnight, Aemond has been consumed by a monster that's fed off his loyalty, leaving nothing in its wake but a shell of who his brother used to be. That beast has no place near you.

Your eyes don't leave Aemond, but your fingers do press into his, a subtle confirmation of something. "My lord."

Aemond steps forward, his hands politely held behind his back. "How is my brother?" Another step towards his bed, towards you. Aegon's body aches with the desire to move, to place an even greater wedge between you and Aemond. "You are by his side more than ever these days."

Your lips press together, a tight lipped smile that doesn't reach your eyes. "It seems someone should be." The lack of subtlety in your comment seems to hit you a moment too late. In an attempt to remedy your mistake, you tack on something polite, "With you all understandably concentrating on the war efforts and ruling over your people. You more than most, prince regent."

Your shift to docility paired with the reminder of Aemond's new position seems to work. The corner of Aemond's mouth pulls itself upwards, a predator's smile. "So you've heard."

"Your mother told me this morning," you pause, "She often comes by during the mornings when Aegon's bandages are replaced to oversee his recovery." Aemond moves even closer, his knees practically against the side of Aegon's mattress. "It feels odd to congratulate you considering the circumstances, but I am sure it is still a great honor to serve your realm."

Aemond's single eye focuses on your expression. Aegon feels the inflation of his lungs stall. "Thank you, my queen." His brother's gaze does not leave you. "You seem to have taken to your own service." Aegon's stare does not leave you. "Mornings, evenings, sometimes through supper...you stay by your husband's side." He lets out a low breath. "Though noble, I do worry that you are not making enough time for your own rest."

The concern in Aemond's voice ignites something in Aegon's blood. It is not enough to disfigure him and steal his throne, now Aemond needs his wife as well. This is another aspect of Aemond's greed that Aegon should have long ago suspected.

Despite your questionable parentage and the circumstances surrounding your union, your beauty has never been deniable. Of course Aemond had seen it as well. Your way of being is another factor that made being forced into this marriage tolerable, even when you hated him most, your arguments and protests had never been cruel, they had only been vexing in the most intriguing way possible. Aegon should have known that, too, would not go unnoticed by his brother.

Aegon's fingers tighten around yours. "Though appreciated, your concern is unnecessary." Your voice is even, words measured. "I often rest in my own apartments, as they are connected to my husband's, which means that I do not have to worry about him needing something and no one being around to hear him."

"Your loyalties to the king are admirable." Aemond moves even closer to Aegon's bed, his knees pressing into the bed's side. "And they have been noticed. We are both aware of the skepticism some hold towards you because of your mother, but no one can deny that you are a good queen. You are poised, intelligent, and beloved by the small folk."

Aemond extends an arm over Aegon's form, his fingers gently brushing against the edge of your hairline, pushing a stray strand of hair back into place. "And I plan to look after you in the ways your husband cannot, as my brother would have wanted."

If Aegon were capable of full movement, he'd take his brother's remaining eye. As if sensing his unease, or perhaps even feeling some of your own, your hand squeezes his. "That is very kind of you, my lord. Thank you."

He nods, straightening fully. "Of course. I must now leave you both, the small council is waiting for me. I was only given a moment to check on the king's health."

"Yes, attend to the king's small council, your brother is well looked after."

Aemond presses his lips together, his expression uncertain. "I am sure."

With that, Aemond turns around. His footsteps are even, unhurried as he moves towards the room's entrance. You're quiet as he leaves, attention focused on the doorway.

After a long moment, once you are certain that Aemond is no longer within the confines of Aegon's apartments, you scoff. "I wouldn't want him involved in my recovery, either."

Your thumb drags against his knuckles, the contact so soft it borders on overwhelming. "But you--the two of you were close, weren't you?" Your eyebrows pinch together curiously. "At least, relatively so. You defended him after..." You blink, eyes glossier than they were a moment ago. "After Luke."

Aegon should have known then that Aemond was never meant to be an integral part of his reign. That type of instability, that connection to rage...loyal as a hound. The only thing his brother feels a sense of duty towards is his own ambition.

If he had punished his brother for Lucerys's death, exiled him, he wouldn't be here. You'd also--it would have been an opportunity to demonstrate his commitment to his wife.

"I--" His throat burns around the syllable. You blink, the grief melting away from you as you focus on his words. "Things are different now." The energy it takes to form the words is not worth the cost. He cannot even decide what to focus on. You--comforting you, or attempting to explain Aemond's betrayal.

You squeeze his hand. "Even when it hurt, a part of me always understood why you sided so adamantly with Aemond. That is not to say that I was not angry..." He remembers your rage, the threats you had made again and again before breaking down. Aegon said nothing as you cried, but he did smooth circles against your back until you fell asleep. "I would have done anything for my brother."

You let out a low breath, the grief behind your eyes melting into something more present. "You are speaking more more these days." There's a warmth to the phrasing that soaks into his skin. "It is...assuring." Your fingers press into his. "If you do not mind me asking, why do you not wish to see Aemond?"

Aegon watches you openly, taking in your features and the softness behind your eyes. After everything that happened between the two of you, the circumstances of your marriage, you found it in you to tend to him as he struggled to not lose his hold on life. How could he repay your kindness by telling you the truth?

You're quicker to action when it comes to defending others, he had seen it in the way you spoke of Lucerys. As of now, Aemond seems to like you, or at the very least, want you. And though the thought makes his skin crawl, that is a much safer position for you than knowing what Aemond is. At the very least, until Aegon recovers enough to be in a position to defend you.

"He saw me go after Meleys after--he told me not to." The lie leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He squeezes your hand, reminding himself what he's doing this for. "And--and he is ruling now, he should--he should remain focused."

You watch him for a moment, eyebrows pinched together uncertainly. He lets out a breath, slowly moving his arm. Aegon ignores his pain as he lifts your hand to his lips. What the gesture takes from him is returned by your smile.

----

Evenings are usually his respite, the time between the late afternoon and true nightfall.

These fleeting hours provide him something much needed. A way of pretending that he is no patient, no burden. With no one around to hover and spare him pitiful glances, Aegon can almost imagine that his life has gone unchanged.

Especially during the evenings in which you join him. The solitude softens you, allowing you to speak freely and sometimes even jest about some of the happenings of his court. You’re rarely able to update him on any significant political changes, but he finds the gossip you can offer him distracting enough—or, at the very least, your delivery of the rumors is.

Tonight, however, there have been no stories recounting a supposed affair between Ser Criston Cole and some unknown woman or of the changes in the small folk’s attitudes. There has only been silence and the flickering of candlelight.

He glances towards the seat to left of his bed, one of your books abandoned in your place. The cane one of the maesters had encouraged him to begin practicing with is propped up against the wall behind the chair. Perhaps you are starting to realize that what drew you to Aegon was not some newfound appreciation of your connection, but your goodness, your desire to repair him the way you would a wounded animal.

Though still healing, Aegon has made it a few paces away from death's doorstep. He's been instructed to practice moving as much as he can bear to, to get used to strain of his limbs and the protests of his body. However, Aemond and the small council have made a point of suggesting Aegon does all he can to keep his recovery process away from prying eyes for the sake of morale.

The soft sound of footsteps echoes from beyond one of the walls that keep him from the outside world.

"I appreciate you taking the time to escort me to my husband's apartments, my lord."

Aegon's fingers dig into his sheets, his body incapable of giving him the force needed to exhaust any real frustration. That's another thing that seems to have changed in these last few days. With the crown on his head, Aemond has pivoted towards a new goal--you.

"These are uneasy times, my queen, I am glad to be assured of your safety."

His queen. Aemond has done all he can to protect your position within the Red Keep. He continues to promote you, partly out of a way of placating the small folk that support you and mainly as some kind of ploy to draw you in.

"Thank you, again," you say, "I won't keep you any longer, your time is valuable."

Without another word from his brother, the door to his apartments creeks open. Less than a minute later, the final door dividing the two of you is pushed open slowly. The hinges still creek, but you're still more careful than you need to be as you continue forward.

You turn to face him before the door can fall shut. "You're sitting." The words are said with such warmth, Aegon's frustrations are nearly banished from his mind.

"You've seen me sit."

His flatness does not quell your joy. "I know, but you're not with the maester...and it--it's later than you'd usually sit." You continue forward, stopping at the foot of his bed. You allow yourself to watch him openly. "And your skin is losing its yellow undertones." You place a hand on the foot of his bed, eyes shifting away from him. "Watching you recover...it has brought me a great deal of peace."

There's a hint of vulnerability in the way you stare at his bedding. Aegon lets out a breath. You are not the conniving type, and you have no way of knowing what Aemond really is. "Well, you deserve a great deal of credit." The words are enough to get you to begin walking again. "I do not know where I'd be without you."

You smile, stalling at the other side of his bed. "I am wonderful, I know." You place your hand against the bedding, but not yet pulling them back. "In reality, I wish there was something I could to ease your pain. You are the one that is still recovering from Meleys's flames."

He turns his head enough to look at you. "You deserve a great deal of credit for that as well."

You smile again, this time the look a much more genuine thing. "Can I stay in here tonight?"

The question is one of the few formalities that you still cling onto. You sleep in his bed more often than your own these days. "I'd never ask you to leave my bed."

You roll your eyes as you push back his sheets. You push off your shoes before crawling into his bed. He enjoys your proximity more than he'd ever be able to tell you.

You settle close enough for him to be able to feel the warmth radiating off of your skin. "I missed you tonight."

"Then perhaps you should have taken your supper with me."

You let out a low breath. "I wanted to, but Aemond asked me about how often I have supper here, and I couldn't think of what to say."

Aegon cannot help his scoff. "And when Aemond calls..."

You turn to face him, your body shifting even closer. "He is acting as the king, he is your regent--"

"My regent, my throne, my wife." The embittered words come out before he can stop them.

"What?" You're staring at him with wide, bewildered eyes. "You cannot possibly think that I, of all people, have been disloyal to you."

Regret immediately jabs at his chest. His anger, his fear, none of it has anything to do with you. "No, I did not mean it in that way."

"I am here when you go to bed, I am here when you rise, I am here more than I am anywhere else. In what moment would I have had time to be unfaithful?" You push your weight onto your knees, hurt pooling in your eyes. "Perhaps while eating with your family, or--or sitting with the ladies of a court that loathes me?"

The yellow glow of the candlelight highlights the shininess of your eyes. "I tolerate my brother's murderer because we are married, because I am left no other option. Do not ever accuse me of betraying you or Luke like that ever again."

The words are sharp, tears brimming in your eyes as you force them out. Guilt ensnares some vital force in his chest, the pain of his body amplified by reget.

He whispers your name, the sound raspy and pathetic. "It is not you, it is the fucking traitor that is determined to take everything of value from my life."

You blink, the self righteous anger and offense briefly leaving you. "Traitor?" The mistake leaves his face warm. "What--" Your eyes flit towards the door. "Aegon, I am going to ask you something, and I want you to be honest with me. If these last weeks have meant anything to you, I want you to be honest with me."

He swallows. You reach for his hand. "Your injuries--are they from Meleys's flames?"

Aegon squeezes your palm to his with a force that leaves pain pulsing up his arm. Beneath the weight of your stare, your silent pleading, he breaks. Aegon shakes his head.

You exhale, an odd sort of tranquility coloring your features. "Okay." Carefully, you bring his hand to your lips, pressing a kiss against his knuckles. The serenity of your movements throws him. "Thank you for your honesty."

Aegon watches as you set his hand down gently. You begin to shift back, forcing Aegon to straighten his spine even further. "Where--where are you going?"

"To tell the guards that their prince regent, the same man that removed his own mother from the small council, the same man that killed my--" Your voice cracks at the last syllable. "My brother, has now attempted to kill--" The words waver before breaking off entirely. "To kill the king."

Aegon reaches for you, his fingers finding their way around your wrist. He latches onto you as if you might disappear if he allows you to. "We cannot say anything."

The sentence pushes you away, sending you to that distant place that took you after your brother's passing. Aegon ignores the way his side protests as he sits up even further, his hand coming to rest against your spine.

"Guards know no loyalty beyond orders and their wages, Aemond is in a position of immense power. You are beloved by the people, but hold little standing in your own court." He runs his knuckles against your lower back. "Look at me. Any number of incidents resulting in my death could be deemed an accident. I can't--I can't protect myself, let alone you."

It takes you a moment to return. "He killed my brother." Tears begin to run down your face. "He almost killed you." You're crying openly now. "We need--we--"

"I know," he whispers, "But as of now, we have nothing except things to lose." Aegon moves his hand, allowing it to settle against your waist. "He likes you now, and that--that is a safe thing."

You inhale sharply, the sound a little more than a sniffle. "I don't care."

"I do." This is one area that he is unwilling to compromise in. "I won't risk you." He releases your side in favor of reaching for your face, his thumb wiping at already spilled tears. "Promise me that you will not do anything. Please."

"We cannot let him get away with this."

"We won't," Aegon vows, "Because we will wait until the right time. I will heal further. He will make a mistake, and if I do not hear of it, you will." He drags his thumb against your cheek again, his fingers settling beneath your jaw. "Promise me."

After a moment, you nod. "I promise." The words are shallow and uncertain, but Aegon does not fear them. You mean your promises. "What if he hurts you again?"

"As long as I am feeble and making no attempts to regain control or expose him, he has no need to." You look up at him, expression unconvinced. "And he will not do anything in front of you."

You dip your chin downwards, a halfhearted nod. "I will not leave you." There's an earnestness there that rattles something inside of him. Your unflinching resolve to promise that you're there for him, that this is not his battle alone.

Aegon shifts forward, his body begging him to resume neutrality as he begins to pull you towards him. You're quick to respond, leaning into his touch. Aegon presses his lips against yours.

He's kissed you before--at your wedding, a few times during your handful of attempts at producing a child, and even less times during the day when particularly enjoying your company. But this is something else, something more desperate and meaningful. His lips drag against yours with less ease than he'd like, a dull ache nearly taking him out of the moment.

You pull back first, your breaths ragged as you look at him. "I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

It was not simple, but far from agonizing enough to make it unworthwhile. "Do not apologize for that." You nod without looking him in the eye. Aegon moves back, allowing his back to rest against cushioning. "Go have your ladies help change you into your night gown, and come back."

It's early for you to get ready for bed, but no one would find it strange. The two of you are married, which means you are welcome to spend as much time together as you'd like. Besides, Aegon likes the thought of you leaving now and not needing to go anywhere until morning.

You agree without question, moving away from him with a subtle nod. "I'll return in a moment."

You leave out of the door that connects his apartments to yours. Before he knows it, you're knocking on the door once before entering his space again. You seem a little lighter, hair brushed and face washed. You return to bed wordlessly, covering yourself with his sheets before resting your head against his shoulder.

Aegon's hand settles against your knee. "I walked a little longer with the maester today."

"That's wonderful," he can hear the smile in your voice. "I'd like to see that. Tomorrow I'll be here instead of sitting with the ladies."

The thought is easing. "I'll put on a good show for you."

"I'm sure you will." You place your hand over his. "I know that you said not to say anything, and it's a timing issue...but there has to be something we can do."

He turns over his hand, his fingers intertwining themselves with yours. "It would help weaken Aemond's claim if I were to have another, more evident heir."

The implications of the statement take you a moment to understand. Once you do, you squeeze his hand a little tighter. "Oh."

The few times the two of you had attempted to create an heir had been far from unenjoyable, just a little uncertain. After Lucerys's death, you were clearly and understandably not in the mood to be looked at a moment too long let alone touched. Aegon obliged you, and would be willing to keep leaving you to yourself if that's what you want.

"We could go back to trying to produce an heir," you mumble, body becoming a little more rigid against him.

He runs his thumb along your knuckles. "Really?"

"I mean, once you're healed enough to feel physically ready," you pause, a little unsure of yourself, "It seems a fitting course of action, and we are married."

He smiles to himself, lifting your hand to his lips. "We are."

----

a/n i'm leaving for my birthday trip tonight so if u liked this u should def send me aegon asks to come back to 🙏💗

Taglist: @dracaryxzs @callsignwidow @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @kazupop @hikaerys @froggyfrip @theargoblog @targaryenswhxre @woodlandwrites @familyshow-orisit @dinomecanico @forevercountingstars @bibli0thecary @magictrump @tempo-rary-fix @mrs-starkgaryen

#hotd #hotd x reader #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon the second x reader #aegon the second #aegon #aegon targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #game of thrones #game of thrones x reader #got x reader #got

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thefairyfellermasterstroke · 4 months ago

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Frev playing cards, where the figures of Queen,King, and I believe Jack, are replaced with:

ENLIGHTMENT

Where we see a woman studying morals, religion, philosophy, politics, physics and history.

POWER

Where we can see a working class man crushing the monarchy, and sitting on the stone of his achivements.

Bravery

Where we can see a former slave that has now broken every chain, and is ready to fight for his rights.

#this is just beautiful tbh #frev #french revolution #french revolution art #frev fandom #frev community #frevblr #frev art #history #playing cards

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muntitled · 4 months ago

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Broken Telephones

Ex!Jake x Fem!Reader | Jay x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite Jay priding himself on being a good friend, he's done denying himself what belongs to him.

Warnings: Language, Obsession, Jealousy, toxicity, Ex Boyfriend's Best Friend to Lovers, Smut +18 (mdni), Squirting, Manhandling Ownership kink, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionist Kink, Dubious Consent, Angry Sex, Threats, Dom/Sub Themes, Hard Dom!Jay

Based on this request by @penny44224 . This gets really toxic, sorry, also I couldn't leave my baby Jake out of this, hope you like it <3

“What kind of party is this anyway?” You grumble from the passenger seat, your heart sinking behind the glittery confines of your tight collared shirt. Something so tight and so painfully provocative would never have come out of your own closet. You had Jake and his obscene budget to thank for that.

“The normal kind,” he says, “with drinking and sex and smoke-” before he's allowed to continue his blissful rambling, you interrupt Jake with a raise of your hand.

“Need I remind you that I have asthma?” With a firm hand on the steering wheel, Jake's eyes roll into the back of his head.

“I can't go.” You continue, “That's a health risk.”

“You haven't had an asthma attack since you were 6,” he deadpans, “Do not piss me off,”

It was difficult to do much of anything with a pounding heart and a stomach flooded with molten anxiety. What do people do at parties anyway? You've watched enough low budget teen Netflix dramas to know… nothing good.

"I don't think you understand the words leaving my mouth," The dwindling daylight leaves your bones rattling with anxiety. You were supposed to be watching the sun setting over the river skyline from your dorm room. Your notes on autocracy in a Constitutional Monarchy, pending across the page in front of you, ready for submission Monday morning.

Instead, you find yourself arrested in a leather seat, in a shameless chequered miniskirt. Your exposed thighs are sticky with evening humidity. This is not how your evening was supposed to go.

"I need to be studying-"

You're battling fiercely with a Mr Morale tune oozing through the Jeep's speakers while your best friend remains blissfully unaware, rapping along as if your concerns were null and void.

Kendrick's voice was strong but yours was stronger. "Since I am an unwilling participant, this is technically kidnapping. You are illegally kidnapping me this very second. You are aware of that, yes?"

"Nonsense,” Jake chuckles, “I can't kidnap my ex girlfriend-” before you're able to rebut he quickly adds, “And I am aware that you're going to wake up one day realising your stupid ass wasted your college years studying." Jake shoots back while the chorus sails on without him. This was serious business if he took the time to ignore Kendrick's second verse. "I'm aware that in all our time in school you've done nothing but school. I'm also aware that I'm saving you from a life of complete and utter regret.” His big brown eyes narrow in the dark, and you are corralled into a shameful silence.

“Just don't try to sleep with me tonight-” you grumble under your breath.

“I'm a changed man,” he says, “I've only thought about fucking you only once this whole evening!”

“Oh god…” you shake your head slowly as the jeep assumes a safer speed in a residential enclosure. “These are rich people's palm trees, why am I seeing rich people's palm trees?"

"Because I got invited to an event that classifies the attendance of rich-people-palm-trees." His stoney visage cracks into a lazy, triumphant smirk.

“Rugby team.” Is all he says.

Your hand flies to the door handle, for what purpose specifically, remains an utter mystery. The car is still in motion so you did not have the intention of flinging the door open and hurling your body onto the biting tar underneath.

"Stop being so goddamn anxious all the time-”

“Jake, I don't even like Rugby-”

“No but you like me… and I like rugby… ergo…,” the car slows to a nauseating stop in the middle of a packed driveway.

"Let me rephrase that- Jake your friends hate me-"

"If this is about Jay again..."

"He's never liked me!" You huff, "Even when we were dating it's like he had it out for me or something!" Your shoulders are tense and Jake can't help but send a worried glance over. He ventures to lay his one hand on your thigh but stops himself, placing it instead on shoulder to rub out the knots there.

"You're making excuses. Jay hates everyone," he says, “I need you to forget about school for one night.” Jake's pep talk only succeeds in filling the void of your stomach with even more dread. “You think about dead politicians way too much for a 20 year old girl."

And that's how you end up in the backyard of a frat house as the third accessory of Jake and some unnamed girl. He has his arms wrapped around both your necks as he enters the party, like some glorified university replica of Hefner.

You know in this light, you appeared to be one of his girls, but the thought of weathering this party without Jake on standby filled you with unmistakable dread.

It was as if the soles of your feet were melting into the grass with each step you took towards the bonfire, even more so when you saw him already seated at the edge of a log, watching you approach with a smile that eases into an unimpressed frown. Jay's cup is held in mid-air as he watches you plop down beside him.

A single gold chain is tucked away behind a loose button up and suddenly, you wish to burrow into the ground underneath this log, away from the vulnerability of his gaze. You felt naked.

“You're not drinking.” Jongseong observes, glancing away from you and Jake's hand sliding over your hip bone.

“What’s in it?” You ask, eyes drifting over Jay's solo cup.

“Sugar, spice and everything nice,” he whispers back.

Beside you, Jake entertains the rest of his friends, his fingers rubbing unconsciously into your sides.

You don't seem at all impressed.

“What do you want me to say?” He asks with a slight deadpan, “That I put my love and affection into it? You're at frat house. This is probably 90% alcohol-”

“-And 10% mysterious drugs to roofie unsuspecting girls.” You conclude before making an elaborate show of pushing further into Jake's side. Jay doesn't like that one bit.

“If I wanted you to sleep with me,” his lips tickle your ear and you shiver, “I wouldn't need to get you high out of your mind to do it.”

Something in his words sounded vaguely like a promise.

“You'll just fall in line,” Jay said, “Like all the others.”

Before Jay could get another mind numbing word out, you're quickly standing from your post from beside Jake. “Coming here was a mistake. I'm Heading Home,”

Jake's hand tugs at yours as if prompting you to sit back down.

"Not after the game… C'mon, it'll be fun," you let Jake's words anchor you to the floor.

"Actually, Jake," Even under the moonlight you can spot a deep frown setting across his face, "I think I should go home. I've already had way too much to drink,"

"You've had 1 cup, my dear-”

"And a half," you clarify before shaking your head. ‘and your frjend is making me really fucking uncomfortable,’ you choose to leave those unspoken words unspoken.

You play with the string along the seam of your skirt, humming along to the Drake tune oozing out of the unseen speakers.

“Aww, you really don't wanna join our game?” Jay coos, looking up at you with an incriminating smirk as he clutches his heart as if you hurt him deeply.

“I'll pass.”

“Course you will,” he snickers. “Princess can't bear to stay away from her book too long, can she?’ It's that tone, that fucking that has you lowering

“What…” you swallow thickly, “What game?” you find yourself asking with a dignified huff as you plant your butt on the log in Between Jake and Jay once more. Your bones are rattling with unprocessed rage as Jake whispers, “broken telephone,”

He snickers, “just try to be as quiet as possible,- never thought I'd be saying those words to you of all people-” you sit at Jake's arm as the game begins with the first message travelling from Jungwon to Jungwon’s date. Unbeknownst to you, Jay has been zeroed in on your conversation with Jake all evening-his blood simmering at the sound of you and Jake whispering sweet nothings to each other like people who were still very much lovers.

His jaw clenched as he plants his steepled elbow on his knees, his hands hanging lazily in front of him as he tries to focus on playing the game and not the giggles exchanged between you and your supposed ex boyfriend.

Sunoo finally passes the message into Jay's right ear, a very clear and resounding- ‘there is nothing satanic about pineapple on pizza’- Jungwon’s attempt at absolution from an argument they had weeks ago. But instead of carrying this specific message over into your ear, subsequently bringing the game to a victorious end, he stops midway, watching your laugh aimed at the blackened night sky while Jake looks up at you with that expression that was very much not supposed to be reserved for ex's.

Jay decides to throw the game.

“Your turn,” Jay's voice is dripping in monotony, as if he couldn't be bothered to even talk to you, let alone play this game with you.

Your mouth falls open when he slithers his hand to the back of your neck, leading your head to his slightly parted lips until said lips are tickling your ear lobe. Your heart is sinking into the confines of your stomach and for the briefest moment, you fear the world might have stopped spinning as Jongseong carries his next words in your ear. Game be damned.

“First floor. Third door on the left.” His hand is still planted on the back of your neck as he whispers those words at you and you're immediately struck with the severity in his tone.

You weren't an idiot.

In fact you'd like to consider yourself quite smart.

You knew that whatever Jay confessed - or rather implied - was definitely not the contents of Jungwon’s intended message. A broken telephone indeed.

Still, coiling in your stomach is a confusing web of wired tension that needs to be snapped. All night, your banter with Jongseong had been laced with something far more frustrating, something you needed to get out of your system.

“U-Um I need to go to the bathroom-” you don't know why you're following his orders. You don't know why you're walking steadily towards what you know very well was probably Jongseong's room in the frat house- a lamb to the proverbial slaughter. All you know is that your heart speeds up just a little quicker when you hear him excusing himself from the group right behind you with; “I'm going for a smoke.”

Your mind is hazy with not only fear, but insane unmistakable lust as you make your way up the stairs, surfing between bodies as you make it onto the first floor landing. You can feel Jongseong's oppressive presence behind you. You can feel how anxious he is to get you alone.

And when you enter his room, there is almost no time to regret following orders because he has you pinned against the closed door. The sound of the party is muffled outside but all you're concerned with is Jongseong's palm cradling your throat, his hooded eyes holding something so incredibly angry within.

“What the fuck do I have to do to make you forget him?” His voice cracks as he mumbles drunkenly. You'd never seen someone as put together as Jay, appear so wayward, so driven by inhibitions.

His palm slithers tighter around your neck, too late for your brain to process that you need his hands off.

“You've been taunting me the whole night.”

“Jongseong, I don't know what-”

Your words bleed into a yelp as he pulls you in by the neck to connect your lips in a steering and sloppy kiss.

Once he gets even a tiny taste, all inhibitions are thrown out the window. Jongseong's cock hardens in his pants and he's utterly delicious with lust.

“You're such a slut, you know that?” He mumbles drunkenly, words meshing together, “Might as well have walked in with his fucking collar around your throat like he owned you-”

“Jongseong-” a gasp cracks your throat when Jay forces his hand underneath your skirt, immediately cupping your sex until you are arching your back against the door.

“Oh- fuck- Jongseong-”

A snicker slips from his alcohol stained lips as Jongseong drags you from the door to his window, overlooking the backyard.

“You want him to see what a slut you are for me?” Your tits press against the glass as Jongseong looms behind you, sliding your panties to the side before dipping his fingers into your soaked folds.

“I didn't-”

What you wanted to say before the weight of chasing your own lust overpowered your senses, is that you didn't know just how deep Jongseong's infatuation ran. You didn't even know he likes you.

“All he needs to do is turn around and look up, and he'll see you fucking yourself on my hand-” Jay's other hand reaches over to pull down your top, putting your breasts on absolute display. You're moaning wantonly into the air as you push yourself back into Jay's hand fucking into you and you feel like crying real tears.

“You're fucking soaked. Is that for me or for him?”

“Jongseong I'm gonna-” you're squirting all over his hand, your ass pressed against his front before the rest of the words could even leave your lips. Jongseong is utterly mystified by the sight of you arching backwards against him, body writhing as you come undone right there by his window.

“Fuck,” his voice cracks again, he's utterly pained. “You're gonna do that again, but on my cock this time-”

“Jongseong-” you barely made it a whisper before he's flinging you onto his bed. The springs creek underneath your back as he pulls you by the hips to the edge, manhandling you as if you were nothing but property.

“I saw you first, you know that, right?” Jay mumbles to himself as he drags his pants down to pull his aching cock out. “I saw you first and Jake-” he spits on his hand, jerking his cock above you, “That fucker knew I wanted you first but he hit on you anyway-” Before he can continue in anger, a low groan leaves his throat. “Fuck baby, open your legs just like that-” they snap open on command, you're not sure you're able to deny him anything in this state. And what a state it is: braids hanging around you like a halo, your shirt, a mess with your tits hanging out, all while Jay swipes your panties away to make way for his cock already leaking precum. It's like he didn't have time at all to undress you. He needed to be inside you so fucking badly.

“I'm gonna cum inside, I hope you know-” Jay's eyes roll back into his head as he eases his cock in, one hand pressed on the bed at the side of your head as he hovers over you, “You're squeezing my cock, for fuck's sake-” he ruts into you, creating a burst of friction that has your stomach coiling again-”

“Jongseong- baby-”

“Fucking Christ, don't call me that or I'm gonna cum-” he's soon fucking into you with the urgency and frustration that has been building since you and Jake announced your relationship.

It inked his veins and seeped into his habits, whereby he'd crane his neck back in every econ class, just to get a look at you in 10 minute intervals. He loved you and you just refused to see it.

Having you underneath him now, tits bouncing while he fucked you on his bed- it was all proving too much for Jongseong and you moan at the feeling of his cock twitching inside you.

“I'm gonna cum- fuck you're such a slut-”

He squishes your cheeks together, in a vaguely condescending display of power and kisses your forehead before muttering, “Tell me you're a slut for me and not him.” You clench around his cock at the vaguely animalistic quality in Jay’s voice as he squeezes the base of your throat, bringing you dangerously close to the edge.

“Jongseong-”

“Say ‘I'm Park Jongseong's slut-” say it babe and I'm gonna fucking cum,” you’re already slipping into your orgasm, the pressure in your cunt building into the unmistakable feeling of immense fullness.

You're gushing around his cock as you scream. “Your slut- Fuck! I'm Park Jongseong's slut-”

His nails dig into the skin around your neck and his eyes roll into the back of your neck.

“Oh my fucking god-” your squirt threatens to push his cock out but he fucks you through it, muttering, “My fucking girl,” over and over again to guide you both through the storm.

Once it's all over, you're panting with the weight of your actions hanging heavy between you. He's about to speak but you stop him first. “I didn't know.” You whispered. “If I'd known I would've never been with him. You have to believe that.”

Jongseong collapses beside you, pulling against his chest as his hands pat down your hair, “I believe you.” He says with finality.

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x black reader #jay park #jay park x reader #jay smut #jay park smut #park jongseong #park jongseong x reader #park jongseong smut #jake sim smut #jake sim x reader #jake sim #jake smut #sim jayun

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just-one-rat · 7 months ago

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Por fin después de tanto les traigo los rediseños de las almas humanas vivas de mi Au "Broken Monarchy", se que a pasado mucho de que subí los primeros diseños y espero que les gusten:

Recapitulando en mi Au existe una Ley que cuando los humanos llegan y si no han matado a nadie pueden renunciar a su humanidad y convertirse en un ciudadano mas del subsuelo aceptando la marca del hierro ardiente de la runa delta prueba de su compromiso Dempsey: (24 años de edad) Segundo al mando de la guardia real y mano derecha de la lider de la Guardia Undyne, se encarga de custodiar la salida de Waterfall y todo Hotland, es un alma entregada a su deber y dispuesto a cumplir con las leyes dictadas por los reyes, listo para impartir justicia para a las victimas. Marina: (22 años) Pupilo de la cientifica real Alphys aunque es mas propio decir que es la segunda ya que hace experimentos independientes de el trabajo de la doctora Alphys, experimenta con el poder de las almas a puntos inmorales para saciar su sed de conocimiento y percevera ante el fracaso.

Jade: (17 años) su alma bondadosa y gentil lo lleva a ayudar a los mas necesitados y hornea para vender postres para la caridad para las arañas atrapadas en las ruinas, sin embargo por su generoso carácter termina regalando la mayor parte de la mercancía, cosa que le trae problemas con su socia de negocios Muffet

#au undertale #undertale #broken monarchy #alma

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sturnsdarling · 1 month ago

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teenage dirtbags, part one

a small collection of the times skater!matt and overachiever!reader realised they'd never be friends.

vibe check: flashbacks to childhood and high school, general loathing

1.2k words

A/N: i had this idea and couldn't get it out my head...i was trying to think of ways to establish the bad vibes and this was my best option.

introduction, part two

love and cigs, merc

the first day of middle school

It was just gone 8, and you were walking down the beige path towards your new school, books tucked in your arms, hair tucked behind your ears and your cream sweater tucked into your pleated plaid skirt. You looked perfect, as always, and had spent hours making sure of it. This was a new beginning for you, the start of your real academic career (you were a very intense kid) , and you were taking it very seriously, despite being only eleven years old.

Your brogues splashed in the little puddles that had formed on the concrete, the shiny leather being undisturbed by the water as it rolled off its surface. From behind you, the sound of skateboard wheels rolled against the beige floor, broken up by periodical slaps of a van shoe against the ground.

The sound got closer, and you thought nothing of it, along with thinking nothing of the giant puddle that you were absentmindedly walking closer and closer to. A boy with messy brown hair, an ACDC t-shirt on over a white long sleeve and work trousers he definitely took from his dad was fast approaching behind you, headphones in and not a care in the world.

You approached the puddle at the same time, and just as you did, the boy sped through it, splashing dirty brown puddle water all over you, and partially himself.

you screamed in shock, it was everywhere, and you were filthy.

"oh, crap, I'm so sorry" Matt said as he halted his speed, the sound of your scream pulling him from his daze as he jumped off his board and ran back towards you.

"what is wrong with you" you screamed, looking down at your now filthy outfit.

"it was an accident, I didn't me-" Matt began to speak, brows furrowed like a sad puppy.

"get away from me" you spat, shooing him away as he attempted to pat out the brown stains with the sleeve of his top.

Matts face screwed up in annoyance, he placed his board back on the floor, and was gone in a flash.

8th grade History class

"The French and American revolutions were one and the same, they ran parallel to each other and were reflections of the worlds desperation to be free from British rule" Matt said, answering the teachers question.

your brows furrowed in disagreement, "thats not right" everyone in the class turned from Matt, to you.

"and why's that, y/n" Your teacher spoke up.

"because the french revolution started in 1789, ours happened over a decade earlier, so they couldn't have been parallel" You said, your teacher grinning at you "and the french revolution wasn't about the British, it was about peasant revolt, and the abolishment of the French monarchy" your cadence was thick with pride.

Everyone in the class turned to the teacher, waiting for them to confirm who was wrong and who was right.

"very good, y/n" She nodded, continuing with her slides on world revolutions.

Matt was glaring at you over his shoulder, face riddled with irritation, you simply smiled, raising your brows for a split second before looking away. Matt rolled his eyes, and turned his attentions back to the board.

Lunch, Sophomore year of high school

You were sat just behind the resident table of skaters, not your first choice but it was the only table left where you could sit alone and read without having to sit next to anyone.

They were being idiots, as usual, throwing stuff at each other and making awful jokes. One said something about how they wish food fights were still a thing, and another agreed, picking up their mash potato and humming it at Matts head. The whole able erupted into laughter, Matt included.

He took a hand full of his spaghetti, and pulled his arm back in preparation to throw it at his friend. Just as Matt let go of the wet, red noodles, his friend ducked out the way, and Matts handful of food was launched directly at you.

It splatted on your face, covering your clothes and book in red bolognese sauce. The whole cafeteria gasped, laughs erupting from every corner as Matts face was riddled with a shocked smile, trying his best to hold back his laughter.

"Matt!" You screamed, taking your fingers and raking them down your face, pulling the pasta off.

Matt chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender, "sorry, y/l/n, my bad"

You clenched your jaw, slamming your book shut, squishing the spaghetti and got to your feet.

"you are the most insufferable, idiotic, stupid, worthless boy, I have ever known" you borderline screamed, picking up your bags and storming out the cafeteria.

All his friends turned back to face him with looks of 'oh shit' spread across their faces, all holding back laughs.

Matt smiled through the sting of your words, trying to play it cool and act like he didn't want to run after you and apologise. Who cares, he hated you anyway.

In the hall, Freshman year of college

Matt was leant up against the wall, talking to a girl he barely knew about skateboarding, or something else that you really didn't care about. He was obviously flirting with her, and she was relishing in it, peppering his arm with touches and twirling her hair round her delicate fingers.

You and Matt had somehow ended up in the same college, and you despised him for it. He never even had to try, he was effortlessly good at things, being handed your dream life on a silver platter with a smug smile and a nonchalant attitude. From a distance, your distaste for the sight ahead of you would look like jealousy, it obviously wasn't, it was pure hatred, and despite your better judgement, you found yourself walking over to them.

"what're you doin' here, y/l/n" Matt said, annoyed at the sight of you.

You ignored him, placing your arm round the girls shoulder and talking directly to her.

"I wouldn't waste your time, girl, I heard he gave half the volleyball team chlamydia" You said, the lie rolling off your tongue effortlessly as you tried to hold back your smile.

The girl scoffed in disgust, looking Matt up and down as she walked away. Matt tried to defend himself, shouting out that you were lying and that he swore it wasn't true. His efforts failed and he turned to you with a clenched jaw.

You couldn't help but smile, your tongue pressed to your teeth as he glared at you.

"what the fuck is your problem" matt spat

you shrugged, "I was bored"

Matt scoffed, "you were bored, so you told the only girl who's shown interest in me in months that I have chlamydia?"

You giggled, and with another shrug, you walked away.

Matts whole face tensed, and he stuck both his middle fingers up at the back of your head. You turned back, knowing exactly what he was like and returned the favour, flashing your perfectly manicured middle finger at him with a smug smile.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10 @cherib3lla @jetaimevous @witchofthehour @sofieeeeex @ncm9696 @lovesturni0l0s @pepsicola-pussy @ifwdominicfike @dani-sturn @stupendousjellyfishpost @aesthetixhoe @sturn-rose @mattsnronebitch

#©sturnsdarling #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #Spotify

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omarcitoloves · 8 months ago

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simon has lost everything that made wille fall in love with him and wille doesn't even notice.

it's a heartbreaking story to watch but in a brilliant way i'm fixated on it. and not in a simon deserves better than wille way but in a they both need to find themselves again in order to be happy.

simon is proud of his morals and who he is as a person, he's never been apologetic of it and wants people to know because it is deeply important to him to have a strong self identity in a world where he comes from a broken home, where he's gay, where he's lower socioeconomic class, where he's poc in a hugely white community, and where he has leftist ideals in a monarchist country. when wille tells him he can't post on socials because it reflects on something the crown can't have a position on, he feels he's losing his voice. and all wille can see is trying to minimize a headache.

singing has been simon's lifeline throughout the show, and something thats important to him because it is one of the good memories he has with his dad. when wille sees he posted himself singing all he can see is simon drawing more attention, it needs to be deleted. he doesn't even comment on simon's singing or let alone the lyrics which they make it seem he clocks what simon is saying this season as apposed to last but he's too focused on himself.

and then when simon admits to wille outside he feels he's losing his voice and confidence, everything has become too much. he can't enjoy singing, he's not pursuing a solo this season for the first time and he can hardly string together his song. but it goes over wille's head, he can't even notice the gravity of what simon is trying to say to him

at the sit in simon initially stands his ground and calls out all of their hypocrisy and rightfully points out wille only takes a stand when its low risk for him, but he caves lated because he doesn't want to disappoint wille and doesnt want wille to be mad at him. and despite wille saying he likes that they learn from the other's perspective, he doesn't make a move to understand any of simon's pov.

simon had to throw up a white flag in ep 5 becuase not only had simon shriveled into a shell of himself and wille not noticed, this change of simon was enabling the way the monarchy breaks wille. previously, and in glimpses this season we have seen simon show wille where the monarchy goes wrong and tries to pull wille into safety a bit but wille can not see past the status quo this season. he got simon so why should he worry right? but this is not the simon he loves, there is no point to this simon. if this is the guy you wanted to love you could've found anyone who was ok with a private relationship why go after the proud boy who is the antithesis to you?

this gives me hope for ep 6. i think wille needed a rude awakening desperately because he was depriving simon of the oxygen he needs to flourish and letting himself drown at the same time. wille needs to see why he fought so hard for simon, why simon was so important to them. they are so special, wille needs to get past the weight of the crown

#it was so painful but it can be so good if they actually come out the other side #young royals #young royals s3 #young royals s3 spoilers #simon eriksson #prince wilhelm #wilmon #young royals analysis #young royals s3 analysis #young royals character analysis

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cheriladycl01 · 7 months ago

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The Bottle - Carlos Sainz x Reader

Plot: You'd always believed in soulmates, in your culture an old tradition was that a person would send out a letter in a glass bottle for their soulmate with clue's requesting the person who found it comes to find them.

Carlos walked along the long stretch of sand with his cousin. It was summer and they were vacationing in Mallorca in the family property.

They'd gone for a morning jog keeping up with his fitness plan for over the summer break ready for the second stint of his F1 season.

"What's that?" Carlos mumbles looking down at the glass bottle buried half in and half out of the season. He reaches down to pick it up but his cousin smacks his hand away.

"It could be broken and hurt you!" he exclaims looking at Carlos in shock as to why he would be so silly.

"It's not broken look, there's a note inside I'm intrigued!" he says pulling it out the sand and popping the cork off the top that was keeping the paper dry.

He pulls the paper out looking and reading the note on it.

Dear Soulmate, If you picked this up, it's because something called you too. In my culture when we do this and someone picks it up it means their our soulmate. I now have to give you clues and if you're intrigued enough you'll come find me. My name is Y/N and I'm 21 years old. Clue 1: I'm from country known for it's monarchy! Clue 2: I have a degree in fashion design from a top university Clue 3: 2021 Clue 4. I work under Mr McQueen Clue 5. 36 Clue 6. Enbankment Yours Sincerely, Your Soulmate.

"No way!" Carlos laughs re-reading it! He stuffs it in his pocket, knowing to take it home and look more into it.

"What was it!" his cousin asks looking over.

"Nothing!" he exclaims not wanting his cousin to think he was crazy, but Carlos had a strong belief in fate. This meant that of course he would come and find you.

You had actually sent that bottle out years ago on your 21st birthday in Australia, you were now 24 and thriving in your career as a fashion designer in Alexander McQueen.

You'd forgotten about the bottle since you'd done it, for a few months after you hoped someone would have found it but it slowly become one of those things you just forgot about.

For Carlos, he returned home with the note in his jacket pocket and he set it down on his desk.

He couldn't help but giggle re-reading over the clues and note. As a famous F1 driver he found the working under McQueen funny, but that didn't lead him too much.

But his best chance would be to join Lando for the week before the British Grand Prix, as he knew that you'd be in the UK. According to clue 1.

"Lando, please take this seriously this is a real person I want to find her!" he exclaims shoving the photocopied version of the original letter as he didn't want to destroy it.

"Okay, right so you've determined she's a uni student from the UK. There's like over 150 universities here so it's going to be impossible especially if we don't know what year she graduated" Lando sighs looking down the clues.

"Well, what about Clue 3, 2021, you recon that's when she graduated?" he asks and Lando puts a finger on his chin, thinking for a moment.

"It could be, but that would mean she also would have sent it out in 2021, how did this survive for four years at sea!" Lando exclaims looking over at Carlos who has his head tilted in shock.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

"Well, the youngest you can graduate is 21 in the UK, so if she did it in 2021, at age 21 she would now be 24?" Lando admits.

"And it says top UK, university that's either Oxford or Cambridge. And only Cambridge have a specific one called Fashion Design" Lando explains after some research making some deductions.

"Take me there!" Carlos says suddenly.

"To Cambridge... no mate! Look there's other clues. She's got a fashion degree, is in the UK and works under Mr McQueen, she probably is a designer in London HQ of Alexander McQueen which would explain Embankment!" Lando deducts and Carlos just has a shocked look on his face the whole time.

"What is Enbankment?" he asks.

"It's an underground station, I bet that's the station she uses to get home, to Apartment 36 perhaps?" Lando asks.

"Fuck onlyfans, if F1 fails become a god damn detective!" Carlos says pulling him into big hug before letting go and pulling shoes and a coat.

"Where are you going?" Lando shouts after him.

"The McQueen HQ building!" Carlos shouts back.

"Do you even know where it is?" he asks making Carlos pause.

"No, but I'll find it!" he shouts back before running out the door.

He tries to find his way around the underground system of London before googling the HQ and where it was. He eventually got there into the reception checking to see it was 4pm, not the end of office work day so maybe he would catch you.

"Hi there, really sorry. Looking for a Y/N?" he asks and the older lady looks over at him with a frown.

"Business?" she says in a posh British accent.

"Erm..." he couldn't think of anything to say.

"She's a friend of mine from Uni, from Cambridge" he smiles and she looks over him.

"Well, you just missed her, she left for the day about 10 minutes ago!" she offers and he sighs.

"Enbankment!" he says before running out the building. He runs down to the underground and he starts to look around all the people on the platform.

You were stood there, leaning against the underground wall and reading your book.

Carlos eyes were darting around the platform, he could make deductive reasoning. He was looking for a 24 year old fashionista and when his eyes met yours, it was like something in him just knew that it was you.

You looked at him with your head cocked to the side in confusion as to why this man was looking like that as you. However, as the tube pulled into the station your gaze wavered as you made your way on.

Carlos was in awe that he wasn't moving until someone ran past him to try catch the door. He realized you were gone and must be on the train, so he did the same getting on as the doors were closing into separate compartment.

He waited and at every stop he'd poke his head out to see if you got off. At one particularly busy stop, some people get off and a bunch of people push on before he can poke his head out, he gravitates back towards the front and sees your hair in the little bow walk away and towards the exit.

He pushes through and jumps out the doors just as they are about to close. He runs up the only stairs that are there seeing you at the top swiping a rail card onto the scanner and being let out of the gates.

He runs foreward swiping his own card.

"Hello, sir... can we take a minute of your time to talk about Climate Change!" a protester stops him, with a smile on his face where he looks behind her to see you stepping out into the sun lit street.

"I'm really sorry! No! I'm late to meet someone!" he explains before pushing past and running through the gate swiping the Oyster Card he owned from when he worked with McLaren.

He runs out onto the street where you did letting his eyes adjust to the light as he looks around for you. His eyes catch the long dress you were wearing, it was colourful and red, a colour he considered his since working for Ferrari.

He saw you walking into a building block and started to run towards the traffic lights and presses the button straight away. He waits for the green man before running across apologising to anybody he bumped into. He finds the entrance seeing security there and panics.

God they'd think he was crazy if he asked them to let him in. But then again. He was Carlos Sainz!

"Hey, I was hoping i could look round the building. I'm thinking of letting a place!" he smiles his puppy smile at the two guards on the gate who turn to him with stoic expressions before noticing who it is.

"Yeah sure! That's fine! Can we get a picture with you? Me and my son are huge fans!" he exclaims making Carlos nod. After he walks into the building looking around for a map of where rooms were.

36 - thats what he was looking for.

17th floor, he got into the lift and pressed the number shooting up. He fixed his hair in the lift getting nervous to meet you, this complete stranger.

Why was he even doing this?

He exists the elevator and walks down the corridor to your apartment and stands outside. He waits for what feels like forever before he knocks on the door.

He waits and then there you are in front of him.

"Hi" he breathes out looking over your gorgeous features.

"Can I help you?" you ask looking over him. You could sort of remember his face, but from where you didn't know right now.

"Erm, I!" he starts.

"Wait your the guy i saw in the tube, did you ... follow me here?" you ask stepping out the apartment shutting the door behind you so he couldn't get in if he was a crazy person.

"Yes. But, your Y/N, you should be 24 right now. You went to Cambridge and studied Fashion design and live in a country with a famous monarchy. You work for a Mr McQueen which actually means Alexander McQueen where you use the tube to get to work each day and live at apartment 36" Carlos breathes out all in one breath, you cock your head to the side in curiosity wondering why they were such specific facts until he pulls out a sheet of paper that you never thought you'd see again.

"No!" you laugh putting a hand over your mouth.

"Where did you find this!" you ask looking up at the man in awe.

"A beach in Mallorca" he offers scratching the back of his neck trying to work out what you were thinking right now.

"I chucked this off a boat in Australia on my 21st birthday" you gasp in shock at how far it had come.

"My family has a holiday home in Mallorca and it was on the beach where I run everyday!" he smiles nodding.

"And you actually came to find me?" you laugh in shock thinking it was a silly thing your mum would always tell you was how your family did things. Its how she found your dad, how you nan found your grandad and how your aunt found your uncle.

"Well, I did find it. I was curious!" he grins, looking at you and you look around the corridor before you bite your lip.

"Did you maybe want to talk about all this craziness over dinner?" you ask looking up at him.

"I'd love that!" he smiles, holding a hand out for you.

"I cant believe you found me!" you smile, placing a kiss on his cheek making them turn a little pink.

"Mmmm I did find you! All from the Bottle."

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