#but seeing all of the wonderful beautiful things other people put into the world

[vagueiish]

.

[lixzey]

mine, forever mine.

one two

Timothée couldn't help but smile as he watched his girlfriend, Y/N, sleep peacefully. She had looked so tired that he hadn't had the heart to wake her up, even though they had planned to go stargazing tonight.

He sat beside her, taking in her beauty and breathing in the smell of her. Timothée's heart thundered in his chest as he watched her sleep, her gentle breaths like a soothing melody to his ears. In the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for the woman who lay beside him. She was like a delicate flower, beautiful yet strong, fragile yet resilient. As he traced his fingers over her skin, he wondered how he had been lucky enough to find her in the chaos of their world. Her laughter was contagious, and her smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. She had this way of making him feel like he was the only person in the world, and he loved her for that.

Timothée remembered how they met; fate had intervened in the most unexpected way, and he was grateful for that every single day. She was his best friend, his confidante, and his lover, all rolled into one. He couldn't imagine his life without her. When they first met five years ago, Timothée thought that she was way out of his league. Saoirse had convinced him to go out with one of her friends for lunch, and it was love at first sight. Timothée remembered that day vividly. He had been so nervous; his palms were sweating, but he was determined to make a good impression. He had put on his best outfit and made sure he was impeccably groomed. When she arrived, it was like the sun had suddenly come out and lit up the entire room. She was so beautiful and graceful, like an angel that fell from heaven, and he could hardly take his eyes off of her. Somehow, she had been able to see past his awkwardness and insecurity and accept him, no questions asked. She had quickly put him at ease with her warm personality and friendly smile.

It was like a spark of electricity that lit up his world, and he never looked back. He had never felt so alive before, and he knew that he was meant to spend his life with her. From their very first date, Timothée and Y/n had created the type of bond that most people spend their entire lives searching for. It was clear that they had a connection that would never be broken, no matter the circumstance.

Timothée admired how Y/n seemed to find happiness in the simplest things, always appreciating the beauty and little wonders that life offered. Y/n didn't deserve to get all of this hate, she was the purest soul. She taught him to slow down and accept life's imperfections, something he had struggled with in the past. Every time he looked at her, he thought the same thing: how lucky he was to have her in his life. For as long as he had known her, she was soft yet resilient. She had compassion and creativity.

Timothée was beyond grateful to Saoirse for setting them up in the most unexpected way. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Y/n completed him in ways he never knew were possible. She knew his deepest fears and his darkest secrets, and yet she loved him unconditionally. She was his rock, his safe haven, and his home.

There were so many times that Timothée was certain she was going to walk out of his life. His career always got in the way of their time for each other. He always asked himself why she was still with him after all of the shit he'd put her through, like that one time when Y/n told him she was going to make dinner for him and completely forgot. But despite his shortcomings, Y/n stayed. She loved him because of who he was, and she assured him she was not going anywhere. Timothée was sure that his woman must have the patience of a saint, because sometimes it terrified him.

Timothée wanted to show her off and brag to the world about her. He wanted to tie the knot with her and spend the rest of his life with her. But his management stood in the way of that. He imagined them sitting on the porch of a cozy house, holding hands as they watched the sun set over the horizon while their children ran around, chasing each other through the yard. He couldn't imagine anyone else he'd spend the rest of his life with.

Suddenly, he had an idea.

I'm going to show her off, whether they like it or not.

Sighing, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “Thank you for loving me, mon amour. I'm going to make it up to you. I love you.”

“Where are you taking me, baby?“ You asked as you fidgeted with the cloth that covered your eyes. “Is the blindfold really necessary?” 

Timothée chuckled. “Be patient, mon amour. We're almost there; just hang in here tight."

“Can you give me a clue where you're taking me? Come on, babyyy!” You whined, your nose scrunching in annoyance, making your boyfriend laugh.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fine, laugh.”

It's been a week since the article blew up. You didn't give it any more attention; instead, you focused on your boyfriend, giving him all the love he deserves. You spent the week cooking for him, which he highly appreciated after a long day of working on the go.

Now, your boyfriend is taking you somewhere blindfolded. You had no idea where he was taking you, but knowing your boyfriend, it was another one of his surprises.

Suddenly, the car stopped abruptly. You heard your boyfriend get out of the driver's seat before opening the door on the passenger side.

"You ready, mon amour?"

“I can't see a thing; I'm absolutely ready.” You rolled your eyes at him—not that he could see it, though.

“There's my sarcastic girl.” Timothée chuckled, taking your hand in his and leading you out of the car.

Timothée slowly led you from behind, telling you when to turn and when to walk straight. After what felt like hours, Timothée finally instructed you to stop. You felt the soft grass beneath your feet and heard the faint background hum of a crowd of people. Finally, someone removed the blindfold, and you blink several times, trying to adjust to the sudden brightness. When your eyes finally adjusted, your breath caught in your throat.

The entire gazebo was lit up with twinkling lights, like thousands of stars had been scattered across the ground. Rose petals decorated the entire path leading to the middle. Timothée's family stood beside yours with huge grins plastered on their faces. Both yours and Timothée's friends were also there, smiling brightly. Bystanders stood around with cameras everywhere, trying to capture the moment. Suddenly, your eyes widened when your eyes landed on a familiar brunette; Kylie Jenner was smiling at you from the sidelines, giving you a thumbs up and silently urging you to go to your boyfriend.

You slowly walked towards your boyfriend, tears shining in your eyes as you realized what was happening. Timothée grabbed your hands, and life began to blur out around you as he began to speak.

“The very first time I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one. You looked like an angel that fell from heaven, and I could hardly take his eyes off of you. You have this way of making me feel like I'm the only guy in the world. How have I been so lucky to find you amidst the chaos of the world? Your smile could brighten up even the darkest of days. You were like a spark of electricity that lit up my world. You taught me to slow down and accept life's imperfections. I can't imagine a life without you, mon amour. You are my rock, my safe haven, and my home.” His voice was shaky, but his words were clear and true.

Timothée fell on a bent knee, a beautiful diamond ring in his hand. His eyes were full of love and admiration. “So what do you say, my beautiful angel? Will you marry me? ” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed into Timothée's green eyes. “Yes,“ you whispered, your voice barely audible over the noise of the crowd around you.

“Yes, I will marry you!” You threw your arms around him, feeling his warmth and the beat of his heart against your chest. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, and you felt as if you were floating on cloud nine. You leaned in close to Timothée and whispered, “I love you, Timothée Chalamet,” and you meant it with all your heart and more.

Timothée slipped the ring onto your finger, and the two of you shared a kiss that felt like forever.

You couldn't believe that you were engaged to the man of your dreams, the man who had swept you off your feet and made her believe in true love. You looked around at the smiling faces surrounding the two of you, feeling overwhelmed with happiness and gratitude.

“I hope you get used to my fans looking at you, mon amour.” Timothée chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I want to take you around the world. They don't have to understand. I'm going to rub it in their face that I put a ring on your hand.”

You giggled, kissing his nose. “That'll take a bit of getting used to.”

“I'm going to show you off, whether they like it or not.”

“You're the one.” You whispered, before capturing his lips in yours. “Mine, forever mine.”

You couldn't wait to spend the rest of your life with him, the man you love, your soon-to-be husband.

Your fiancé, your future, your Timothée, yours. 

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @this-is-me-lolol

[wordsinhaled]

thinking about how much crowley and aziraphale have been getting slammed for their poor communication and on the one hand... absolutely, i agree 100%. they have so much work to do in that department, they are always missing each other when it comes to seeing what they each want from the other and expressing it clearly. but on the other hand... like... encompassing six thousand years into a conversation? six thousand years of knowing each other. six thousand years of gravitating toward one another

like... the bit that really gets me, in crowley's confession, is - "...and we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. i mean, the last few years, not really" - this implication that like... at least on crowley's part... since they saved the world together he's allowed himself to be more open in how he feels about aziraphale. that in his mind he's already long since chosen Their Side, they've chosen their side in their behavior towards each other, and they've talked about... our car, our shop, but even before that...

we see in the minisodes, the way they already act. they're a pair that shows rather than tells all the time and it's so abundantly clear that everyone around them can see it, is constantly asking about it, assuming it, reading it on them like they're an open book - with everyone but each other.

but like how do you put into clumsy human words how much love you feel for someone who stood next to you while you created the stars? who helped you create them? how do you say openly how you feel to the one person who understands you and your nature better than anyone else, who indulges your every whim because they want to see you happy while everyone else says you were built wrong, you're too indulgent, you're too soft but you're perfect for him, specifically, because you stood at the beginning of the universe together?

like how are they supposed to talk about that? especially when it's so forbidden to talk about that?

there are so few words that truly feel like they properly encompass what love truly and genuinely means? what loving someone TRULY means? how it's giving up your onliness and entrusting yourself into the hands of another, now you're not just you, now you're you but the world is brighter and sharper and more beautiful because of another? how we're all stuck on a spinning rock in the middle of space in the middle of the universe in the middle of the galaxy in the middle of eternity just little grains of sand and then there's another little grain of sand in the scheme of things, but it's the most important one ever created because of how happy it makes you?

but multiply that by six thousand years

so like of course you fucking cry and you stare at each other with tears in your eyes like you're absolutely ESSENTIAL to one another. but like how do you make it work in words when you don't know if there are even words for the prospect of existing without one another? and you have this absolutely incandescent and fragile thing between you that everyone understands to exist, you understand it to exist too, and sometimes it is scary as fuck to admit that you need someone. it is terrifying and uncomfortable and vulnerable and we're just people who live maybe 100 years on this earth? a blink of an eye compared to six thousand years of shared existence?

like...? truthfully i don't think i could talk about it easily either because oh my god that's fucking terrifying. that six thousand years of your comfortable and beloved shared existence could go up in smoke with one misplaced word. like no fucking WONDER he can't get the words out. and no fucking wonder, it's easier to couch things in terms like group and team and everything when you're on the verge of falling apart into a million pieces because the other half of your soul wants to leave you behind. it's easier to say come with me, work with me, be my second in command, than to admit he's first in your heart and mind every second of every day since you saw him bringing light at the beginning of the universe???

just... you know? they need a fucking break. they need a vacation. they need a cottage in the south fucking downs

[norrizzandpia]

reader finding out that lando only pursued her bc one of his pr team told him to date somebody of her caliber

I love these kinds of tropes

One-Sided Fake Dating (LN4)

Summary: When Y/n has continuously been used for the image that has pristinely been constructed for her and the connections she has through relation to her parents, she has cultivated a dark image on the world, especially on love. However, when Lando comes into her life and shows her what it’s like to be wanted for who you are and not what you can provide, she begins to open up and she begins to explore what it’s like to be loved and to love. Although, nothing is permanent and what happens when the man she had thought to be better than everyone who had previously screwed her over turns out to be worse?

Warnings: angst, language, sexual references, i build this couple up just have them come crashing down, this one’s rough but all my posts are so its ok, family trauma, me being cliche when it comes to making up fake rich last names sorry sue me

Note: it’s a sad ending but AS WE ALL KNOW i cant take those so there will most likely be a part two lmk if yall want to see that

Part 2 link

She hated these things. Galas where men approached her for the last name written on her birth certificate and women fawned over her dress in order to become one step closer to the opportunities only she held access to. A drink in her hand, the little droplets leaking onto the ring adorning her finger, her eyes gazed upon attendees of the party her father had thrown. Men and women dressed to the nines in designer clothing, a rotten feeling manifested in her stomach. It was indescribably cold, something that settled within her and was a stark reminder that, in a room full of people ready to wait on her hand and foot, she was alone. Neither her father nor mother could make her feel any semblance of warmth, not when they exploited the image she had perfectly curated over the span of her life. The perfect, girl-next-door persona had been all she was destined for when she was birthed into the hands of Nick and Amy Winchester, two heirs to two successful oil businesses. Neither of them had truly made the effort to make her feel as though she was destined for more, other than a pawn in their Public Relations game.

She stared at them shortly, studying their faces and the way they moved about the room, wondering whether she had ever truly known them. Her parents were an anomaly, filthy rich and happy as ever. Although, no one ever knew what went on behind doors.

“Y/n Winchester, how lucky I am to finally meet you in person. I’ve heard so many great things.” A voice startled her from her deep mind, turning it back on to the mission at hand, putting on a front that she had everything she ever wanted.

Turning around, her gaze found that of Lando Norris, a man her parents had never shut up about, having been friends with his father and loving the way he so seamlessly fell into what they had always wanted her to be, but she never quite came close. This man was the image of the self-inadequacy she had been forced to feel from the moment she could slightly understand the concept. She despised him.

The fake smile she had flaunted for years graced her face, “Lando Norris, it’s lovely to meet you as well.”

He extended his hand to her, her fingers falling onto the bed of his as he pressed his lips to the back of her palm. The warm pressure spread up her arm and down her body as they held each other’s eyes. Something about the deep greenness of his made her want to know more, made the hatred and envy she had held for him diminish.

“I have to say you’re even more beautiful in person.” He whispered, lowering her hand but not letting go.

A tinge of red wrapped around her cheeks, “Thank you. You’re quite handsome as well.”

The entire thing felt incredibly mysterious. The way he cradled her hand; the way his eyes pierced hers; the way he was so intoxicating and the way she didn’t know why. She wanted more, wanted to know more.

Drowning in the confusion pertaining to her sudden change of feelings toward him, she couldn’t make out what he had been speaking about. As a result he simply stared at her with raised eyebrows, “Y/n, am I boring you already?”

She shook her head with a soft smile, “No, I’m sorry. Just got lost in thought.”

“About me?” He rubuttled quickly. So quick she couldn’t hesitate or think before she began nodding slowly. Her brain had shrunk at the hands of the smell of his cologne and all she could rely on was the years of PR training.

His eyebrows raised further, “Oh? Well, that’s a good sign considering I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you since you walked into the room.”

She choked slightly on her drink, not expecting him to be quite forward, “Sorry?”

He smiled a sinister smile, one that drew her in and made her want to run away all at once, “You’re intoxicating, Y/n.”

She cocked her head, “Is being bold your way of picking up women, Norris?”

He shook his head with a chuckle, “Being bold is my way of trying to make you fall in love with me. The women of my past are nothing like you, Winchester. I never wanted them to fall in love with me, however, with you,” He leaned in closer, “I want you all to myself.”

Pulsing between her legs told her this night would be ending very differently then she originally intended, “Is that so? I have to say, I’m not entirely opposed.”

His lips were centimeters from hers, his hot breath fanning her face, “Good because I was never going to stop until you were.”

—

In the light of the morning, Y/n’s mind ran wild at the consequences of what waking up in bed next to Lando Norris meant. He was known for sleeping around, for playing women and adding notches to his bedpost. Being another one of his past girls wouldn’t go over well for her image, an innocent and pure one that was meticulously portrayed so no one would see her as something inherently sexual.

However, as his arm slung over her waist, she couldn’t find it in herself to truly care. Sure, she was a bit panicked for what her parents would say, but with the memories of the night before and the dull aching between her legs, she knew this wouldn’t be a one time thing.

Throwing caution to the wind wasn’t something she typically did, but maybe she could try just this once.

His arm rustled on her warm skin, his eyelids creaking open as he stared at her, “Morning, Y/n.”

She giggled, “Not a good morning for you, Norris?”

His teeth peaked through in a flirtatious grin, “No, Winchester. It is a very very good morning.”

She turned around, slipping out of his arms and off the bed to pull her dress back on.

“What are you doing?” He asked, a grovel in his voice that made her never want to leave the quiet oasis of his room.

She turned around with a questionable glint in her eyes, “Leaving?”

He shook his head and propped his body up on his elbow, leaning over to grab her hand softly, “No, Y/n. Stay.”

There was a pleading in his eyes, one she had never seen in the media and one she had certainly never seen throughout the time they spent together. It made her give in.

She plopped back in bed next to him, his arm fell around her shoulders and he kissed her temple, “Why are you still in clothes?”

She laughed, thinking he was joking, but his hands over the soft skin of her arms as he pulled it down made the joyous sound dwindle down.

She certainly stopped laughing when his lips started descending down her stomach.

—

A persistent knocking on her door had her groaning and running over, “I’m coming!”

Her hand clutched the door knob, throwing open the door of her apartment near her university's campus, before she was greeted with the sweet image of her boyfriend.

She tilted her head with a soft smile, “Lan? What are you doing here?”

He pushed through the threshold, a nice smell of roses hitting her nose as he turned around to face her in her foyer.

“What’s with the flowers?” She questioned as he just stood there with an innocent smile.

He walked closer, planting a short kiss on her lips before whispering, “Happy three months.”

He held the flowers in between their bodies, continuing to grin at her as the occasion dawned on her.

She wrapped him in a hug, taking the red plant from his hands and kissing his cheek aggressively, “You are so cute! Thank you!”

He followed her further into the apartment as she went to the kitchen to put them in water. Questions flew from her lips, “How’d you know? Were you keeping track? You didn’t do this for our one month or two? Also, I thought we agreed to only celebrate the big ones like six months or a year? Was I supposed to get you something? Oh shit, Lan, I didn’t get you something.”

He giggled at her and shook his head, slithering his arms around her waist and pulling her into him when she was done with the flowers, “No, love, I just got a Snapchat memory that informed me it was three months ago today I asked you to be my girlfriend. I was going to ignore it, but I thought against it when I remembered how lucky I am to have you. I thought I’d just remind you of that.”

She blushed and wrapped her arms around his neck, “You’re sweet.”

“Only for you.” He murmured as she closed the gap between their lips.

At first, Y/n was a bit hesitant with Lando. With his past with women, sleeping around and never holding a commitment, she wondered if he would treat her a priority. Although, she was pleasantly surprised when he started speaking to her, treating her better than any of her ex’s. He was kind and gentle, compassionate, empathetic, understanding, and loving. He was everything and she was beginning to think he was her everything.

They continued kissing in her kitchen before she was reminded of the homework splayed out on the desk in her room, stress riddling her body once more. Lando clocked the tension, letting his hands rub up and down her back soothingly before softly speaking, “You okay, love?”

She tried to nod, but shook her head instead, her face pressing into his chest as she huffed, “No, I’m so stressed.”

Lando frowned, “Why? What’s going on?”

She led him to her room, his hand clutched in hers as she dragged him. When they reached her door, she opened it and he found a messy room drowning in papers and textbooks. The sight of it let alone made him panic.

“Christ,” He murmured. His hand squeezed hers in support as the two stared upon the mess.

Her voice became wobbly as she spoke, “I have so many assignments due and my room is a fucking shit show. I can’t think when it’s like this. It just adds to my stress. I don’t know what to do, Lando. I don’t have time to clean my room, I don’t have time to eat, I don’t have time to sleep. I’m fucking drowning.”

She choked up as her words felt suffocating. Lando was quick to pull her back into him, shushing her and caressing the hair on her head as she sniffled into his shirt. He led her to her bed, sitting her down and letting her lean on him, emotionally and physically. When she calmed down, he whispered into her hair, his lips having kissed multiple times there, “How about you sit at your desk, do what you can of your assignments, and I clean your room. I’ll make it spotless that way you don’t have to worry about it and then I’ll make some dinner, yeah? I can order in from your favorite place or I can make it myself. Whatever you want, baby. But, when your room is clean and the food is ready, you will give yourself a break. Trust me, laying with me on the couch and watching movies before going to bed at a reasonable hour will help you tomorrow so you can get more things done. You will get through this.”

She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with glossy eyes, “You’d clean my room for me?”

He chuckled, hands cradling her face, “Of course, love. I’d do a lot more for you.”

🏎️

Four hours later, Lando had cleaned her entire apartment, ordered her favorite meal from a diner down the street, and plated it on the countertop of her kitchen. He was pleased with himself when he walked into her room, lightly pulled her earphone out and led her back into the kitchen where her face lit up at what he had done. Falling into his arms, she mumbled quick praises of gratitude into his neck, kissing at the skin as a thank you.

The wrinkles in her forehead had loosened by the time they made it to the couch, his legs kicked up as she sprawled out on him. There was quiet conversation of what they would watch before settling on The Holiday, a movie Y/n had loved since the moment she watched it when she was twelve.

As much as she loved it, however, she fell asleep twenty minutes in. Soft intakes of breath alerted Lando of the sleeping girl on him and he decided to stay there. He watched the movie all the way through, scratching her back softly throughout the entire thing. She moved a bit, but never away from him, always closer to him and his heart warmed every time.

When he laid her down in her bed and she whispered for him to stay, there was no argument in his mind. He stayed and he was beginning to think he always would.

—

“What’s your biggest fear?” Lando said into the darkness of the night as they sat in his car.

Y/n thought it over, knowing exactly what it was, but deciding if spilling that to him was appropriate in a five month relationship.

“Spiders.” She replied, fear taking over and forcing her out of what she truly wanted to say.

Lando looked over at her blankly, “What’s your biggest fear, Y/n?”

She laughed, “Spiders, Lan.”

He shook his head, “Tell me the truth, love.”

She exhaled a breath and began, “Going my entire life without making my parents proud.”

Her sentence hung in the air, her words hitting him as he searched for clarification, “You have made them proud, Y/n.”

She scoffed and shook her head as the feeling of Lando’s hand slipping into hers spread throughout her body in a grave reminder that he was there for her, “No, they have never looked at me long enough to see what I’ve tried to achieve and what I have achieved.”

His eyes bore into the side of her face as he listened intently, “No one knows that my parents are not who they portray themselves to be. Sure, they’re in love and they have fun times together, but they never wanted me. I know that, they know that, the staff, and the people they’ve employed to keep our image know that. They had me out of obligation, out of pressure from the outside world to have a child after they got married. I know they never wanted children, they’ve both said it to me before. From the moment I was born, I was not seen as a human or a baby who needed nurturing, I was seen as an object that could warmly slip into the narrative of their lives and compliment the rumors surrounding them. I was never meant to be anything else than their public pride and joy. Privately, I have never meant anything.”

Lando’s fingers grazed over the skin of her cheek, wiping a tear she hadn’t realized was there. He turned her face to his, forcing her eyes to see the love that ran deep for her, and stated so forcefully, “You are so much more than that.”

She stared at him, not knowing what to say to something that had never been reaffirmed in her entire life, and waited for him to continue.

“For them to disregard you that way shows how shallow they are. It has nothing to do with you. You are not nothing. You should’ve never been exploited and made to feel as though you served someone else. You are wanted. I want you, Y/n. That means something. I know it does because I love you and I want you.” He finished, wiping the tears that flowed down her cheeks.

In a broken whisper, “You love me?”

He smiled at her, leaning in and letting his lips rest just beside hers, “From the moment I met you.”

The words brought life back into her body as she softly giggled through the wetness on her cheeks, “I thought you were trying to make me fall in love with you. Didn’t think the plan was for you to fall in love with me too.”

It wasn’t, he thought.

He kissed her, “It’s hard not to fall in love with someone like you. You are my everything, Y/n.”

Right there. His last sentence echoed what had been repeating in her head for months. A person who loved her just as much as she loved them, what a sight.

“I love you too, you know.” She said, loving the way he continued to wipe residual tears and whisper soft words that contradicted the idea engrained in her head that she wasn’t meant for great things, that she wasn’t intelligent or a force to be reckoned with. Single-handedly, unknowingly, Lando changed her narrative and the idea that, once her parents were gone, she was useless.

He nodded, “I know. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

He wouldn’t, that was the truth. What this relationship was built on, though? He couldn’t bear to utter the words.

Lies.

—

Galas. Something she used to hate, but, with Lando’s hand on her thigh and his jokes in her ear, she began to find fun in them.

“Don’t you think that woman’s dress makes her look like a flamingo?” Lando lowly whispered as he discreetly pointed to someone across the room that had a light pink dress on, ruffled with feathers.

His comparison was spot on and Y/n had to stop herself from snorting out her drink, “Lando! Stop!”

She giggled and he leaned into her, the two a picture of young love. There were others sitting beside them at the table, drinking expensive wine from expensive glasses and observing the famous couple. In the six months they had been together, the public had not ceased to stop talking about the two. Lando had skyrocketed to worldwide fame, larger than what he had possessed before. Y/n being the internet’s it girl, heiress to billion-dollar oil companies and a young woman who had everything everybody else wanted, forced Lando into a large spotlight. There was traction surrounding his name and because of his connection to her, his companies, his career saw an increase in brand deals, income essentially. By just being her boyfriend, everything tied to Lando had exponentially grown. McLaren included. It was everything they had expected.

A little too much wine in one of Lando’s coworkers was dangerous as he blabbered out, “I’m surprised you two are still together!”

There were a few knowing chuckles around the table as everyone eyed each other. Lando gave him a fixed glare, dark and challenging as he tried to plead with the drunk man to stop talking.

Y/n’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned in, “What do you mean?”

The man threw his hands up as he leaned back in his chair, “Just with the way you two got together, I didn’t think Lando would stick around for this long.”

“Y/n, let’s go.” Lando stood abruptly from the table, his hand in hers as he tried to pull her from the situation.

Y/n shook her head as all eyes stared at her, “No, Lando, what’s he talking about?”

Lando pleaded with her, “Y/n, listen to me. It doesn’t matter. Please. Come with me. Let’s leave.”

She was stuck, wanting to pry into the man’s mind, but seeing the way Lando was begging her to comply.

However, at the end of the day, she was a curious individual.

“Sorry,” She stuck her hand out to smooth down the table cloth, “Can you please elaborate?”

“Y/n-” Lando started, but she just shook her head.

His mind raced as reality dawned on him and the moment where he lost her came to fruition.

Wine sloshed out of his glass as the man drank the last sip before he began, “Lando started dating you because of your last name.”

There was a lingering smile on her lips from previously wanting to keep a happy demeanor at the Gala, but the moment the sentence fell from his lips, it gradually faded.

Lando sat back down beside her and wrapped a hand around her arm, the other on her thigh, and squeezed harshly.

“Y/n, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

The man scoffed, “What are you talking about?! I was there! I was the one who suggested you approach her. I was the one who laid out what would happen to your career if you dated Y/n Winchester. Come on, Lando, don’t be a liar.”

Her heart beat slowly as she scanned the table, the others still sipping on their glasses as they watched the scene play out. Their expressions, lacking shock, made her realize that every person sitting before her knew that Lando’s love for her was a joke. Everyone, but her.

Her head gradually turned to the side, capturing Lando’s eyes with hers. There was still pleading within them, but, this time, he was pleading for her to still love him, for her to not leave him.

To hell with him, she thought.

“Is this true?” She asked, her tone cold and distant as she ripped her arm and leg from his grasp.

He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face in anxiety, “No, well, kind of. Yes, but- Y/n,” He shot up from his chair as she made a move to leave.

She grabbed her purse which was hung over the back of her chair, her legs making quick strides toward the exit. Lando, being taller than her, walked quickly beside her, spewing out words that now meant nothing to her.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n,” He choked out. She didn’t have to look to know he was crying, “I didn’t know what I was doing. I was half drunk the night we got together, so were you. I always thought you were gorgeous. What I’m trying to say, fuck, is that it was never truly fake for me. You did mean something to me. You mean something to me. Y/n, are you listening to me?”

She threw open the doors to the party, letting the cool air coat the cold blood running through her veins, and whipped around aggressively to face him.

“Did you mean it when you said it?” She yelled, strong front trying desperately to stay up as she crumbled to pieces on the inside.

Lando shook his head in confusion, “When I said what?”

She stopped her foot on the ground, heel threatening to snap under the force, “When you said you loved me! When you said I meant everything to you! When you said I had purpose! Did you mean it?!”

She screamed at him and he stepped closer, but she put a hand up, “Don’t fucking come near me.”

Lando stood helplessly, “Yes, of course, I meant it. Y/n, everything was real for me.”

She cocked her head, “Was it? When did it stop being a ploy for my last name?”

Lando let his head fall to look at the ground, “The morning after we slept together.”

She groaned loudly, tears now falling freely from her cheeks, “Oh! How sweet! So, after you had sex with me, you started truly feeling something for me. If that’s even fucking true. You know, Lando,” She willed his eyes to keep her stare as she yelled, “You’re no better than everybody in there. I told you how I’ve never had anybody be in my life without wanting what comes with having a name like mine. I told you, I confided in you, how much it hurt for a ten word name to mean more than the feelings I have, to mean more than who I am as a person. You’re no better than my father, my mother, and everybody else who has exploited me in the past. Actually!” She continued, not caring that Lando was wiping tears off his face with his white button up, “Actually, you’re worse than all of them. At least, they were obvious with wanting me for the things I could give them. You made me think you loved me. You made me think that you fell in love with me for who I am. You made me think that I was finally being seen as a human being.”

Lando shot back, “I do love you, don’t fucking fight that. Don’t question that. I sure as fuck fell in love with you for who you are and I see you as who you are. Your last name doesn’t mean shit to me, Y/n.”

She hit his chest with her hand, “But, it did! It did, Lando, and that makes this fucking tainted! You’re just like them! You’re just like-”

She broke down into sobs, crying pathetically into his arms as he tried to coax her. The sound of betrayal was evident in the way she cried, a different kind to the one he heard before when her parents dismissed her or someone tried gaining something from her. This betrayal cut deep because of the love that clutched her heart and refused to let go even in the wake of what he had done. This betrayal ruined any semblance of trust she had with the world, demolishing it for anyone that tried to do what he attempted; to love her.

A moment went by, Y/n gathering herself and realizing she laid in the arms of someone she no longer trusted, and she forcefully backed herself away from him. Wiping her tears with his suit jacket, the one a bit too big for her because it was tailored to his frame and the one he had given her earlier in the night when she had grown cold, Y/n stopped meeting his eye.

“Delete my number from your phone. Never fucking talk to me again. You should be fucking ashamed of yourself.” She murmured, turning around and trying to walk down the dark street before Lando reached out to grab her arm.

When he forced her to turn around, his eyes were bloodshot and begging for forgiveness, begging for her, “Y/n, I love you. Please. Please.”

Still, she couldn’t meet his eye, softly and defeatedly whispering, “I will never be able to figure out if you love me for me or love me for what I can give to you. That is why this will never work. That is why you need to let go of my arm and let me go back to my apartment without you. That is why you need to let me go.”

He kept a hold on her arm and on the life he wanted them to have together, “Y/n, I can show you. I can show you how much you mean to me. Please, just give me another chance.”

She shook her head, “Goddamnit, Lando! Let fucking go of me! This is ruined! It will never be the same! You have done the worst possible thing. You have hurt me in the worst possible way. You have treated me the way everyone else has. I am not something you can use because you are greedy.”

He nodded his head intently, “I know. I know that. I always have.”

Fed up and emotionally distraught, Y/n ripped her arm from his hold and no longer did he reach out for her when her last parting words were, “No, you always haven’t. If you always had, you would’ve never approached me and we would’ve never found ourselves here.”

A/N: part 2?

UPDATE: part 2 posted

[loveemagicpeace]

🦋Mercury & Communications🦋

Mercury in Aries - your way of expressing yourself is very direct and you can be harsh with your words. You focus a lot on topics that interest you. You can have a strong opinion when it comes to things that involve you. You can be very impatient when it comes to information and you want to know it right away. At times, your communication can be more aggressive and you don't like so many details. You use highly expressive language and throw a lot of slang into your speech.  You are not so attentive to things around you. Criticism or negative feedback can be taken personally. Still, they are not afraid of a fight or a challenge, on a mental level. They like to talk about sports. In life, they can be involved in many sports activities. Mercury-in-Aries people suffer from headaches, especially in a raucous and noisy atmosphere.

Mercury in Taurus- your way of communicating is more slow, monotonous. You like to have conversations (especially you like to talk about food, music, money, movies), I also noticed that they like debates that are of better quality and include rich content. They stubbornly stick to a certain opinion and give in only when they have good arguments for it. They like to talk about clothes or beauty in general. They also like to talk about nature or plants. These people rely on their senses when it comes to processing information. Smells, noises, and mood are all employed. Mercury in Taurus people have an overall pleasing manner of communicating. These natives learn best when they see real-world uses for the theories they’re trying to absorb. They will not talk with all people , but only with those they feel comfortable with. Taurus are often successful art and antique dealers.

Mercury in Gemini-your communication is very fast and variable. Also, your way of expressing yourself can be too fast for some people. You can absorb a lot of information, but you are not a person who would think about something for a long time. You can quickly change your mind and decide on something else. You like to change topics and get information from several different sources. Many times you are more interested in the opinions of others and can make decisions based on them. You can quickly get bored and replace your energy. Gemini people pick up more from their environment than most, and they can process information at lightning speed. At times there is a distinct lack of order in your life. You would make a wonderful debater, public speaker, or ac- tor, and you have lots of friends because of your infec- tious good humor.

Mercury in Cancer-your way of expressing yourself is usually emotional. A lot of your words come from emotions and how you feel at a certain moment. You put a lot of emphasis on family and their opinion. There can also be a mother here, who in some way affects how you think and communicate. You have to be careful not to rely too much on your mother's opinion. You like emotional conversations that cover many deeper topics. Most of all, you like to talk in a comfortable place, such as at home, on a comfortable chair, on the sofa, while drinking your favorite drink. You can quickly become emotional in a conversation and if someone hurts you, you can be rude with your words. that Mercury in Cancer natives will remember almost anything — from their own past, to your conversation two months ago. Mercury- in-Cancer people are successful as scholars, historians, teachers, and writers. You are likely to make a profit in real estate and may inherit money from the maternal side of your family.

Mercury in Leo- your way of communicating is fast but superficial. Many times, if you are not interested in the topic, you will no longer listen or give importance to it. Sometimes you can say things that are out of place and only later realize that you may have exaggerated. Your way of expressing yourself is also dramatic. You like to talk about others, gossip, love dramas. In conversation with others, you often find yourself in it. You are excellent at promoting ideas and getting their message across. These people can be very attached to their opinions, taking pride in their beliefs, which are often rather idealistic. You are also very confident in everything you say.  You have a sunny side that is always with you. Though you would rather play than work, you are determined to be successful.

Mercury in Virgo- your way of expressing yourself is stable, sometimes judgmental, firm, realistic, even political. You like to talk about serious topics. Many times the topics can be politics, the world, work or general happenings in everyday life. When you speak, you always tell everything in detail and you can go very deep into the details of certain things. You can also be conflicted when it comes to expressing opinions. Many times you can give advice to people even if they don't ask you for it (you always want to find a way to solve a problem). They generally pick up a lot of facts and figures, and learn their own trade well, but have trouble truly absorbing the knowledge they collect on a deeper level. Mercury in Virgo natives may appear humble at times, but they get quite protective when it comes to handling day-to-day affairs. A fault is your eagerness to take on too much work or too many projects. You wear yourself down, and at times become nervous and hypercritical. As a Mer- cury-Virgo you have a superb talent for creative crafts.

Mercury in Libra-your way of communicating is beautiful, gentle, warm, pleasant. You can talk to any person and you can create a way of talking to any person. Although you can be a bit judgmental at times. You can talk a lot about your partner and the relationship. The theme of love is primarily in the foreground with this Mercury. If you are interested in anything, it is the relationships of others or what is happening with others. You can also have the quick influence of others (which means that sometimes you think with the head of others or rely on what your partner says). Your partner's opinion can be very important to you. You are also always looking for harmony and peace in conversation. You are good at solving other people's relationships because you know how to look at things from an objective perspective. You are especially successful if you team up with a strong person who can direct you.

Mercury in Scoprio-your way of expressing yourself is through depth, emotion, directness, truth. You are always looking for the way to the truth, no matter what the situation is, you will always want to know the truth, because that is what will set you free in a way. You can have obsessive thoughts, and especially if you like something, you can only think about it for days. You like long emotional and deep conversations. You like to have a really open, real conversation with someone. You like it when the person tells you their secrets and that you can share a dark side with the person. You don't like small talk. You are direct and sometimes very harsh, especially if someone makes you angry or hurt. You can say the harshest things to a person without a bad conscience. Your way of communicating is also very passionate, inspiring and dedicated. You always know how to empathize with other people. You probably have a volatile temper, and Mercury-Scorpios are known for their biting sarcasm when crossed or upset. You have an emotional intelligence. You will fight for a cause even if it is hopeless, or sacrifice your time and ener- gies for someone you love.

Mercury in Sagittarius-your way of expressing yourself is very energetic, intellectual, optimistic and happy. You always know how to find the good side of a situation and you know how to see the key things in a conversation. You can help others with your words. You give good advice to others. You can also help others find their way. You are open-minded and honest. You're a life-long learner who loves discussing deep, philosophical questions. You also have an expressive nature and a great sense of humor, which often make you the life of the party. Your opinionated and honest personality can sometimes hurt peoples’ feelings, and your visionary way of thinking can make it hard for you to focus on small details. Your mind naturally absorbs new information, and you love pondering life’s deep questions. Some people find you too blunt and outspoken, but that quality springs from Sagittarius’s basic honesty.

Mercury in Capricorn- your way of expressing yourself is usually very realistic, serious and maybe sometimes more cruel. You can also have a pessimistic view. This makes you a practical person; your thoughts are more realistic and down to earth; and communication over concerned matters is precise and clear. You don’t waste time and get down to the point, earning people’s respect. You speak when you have something to say and choose your words carefully to ensure you appear well-spoken and knowledgeable. You can talk a lot about work and this could be the theme most of the time. Mercury-Capricorns often at- tain positions of leadership because they are so dependable and have an air of authority. Life is serious to Mercury-Capricorns and you see its dark side—though a redeeming trait is your dry sense of humor.

Mercury in Aquarius-your way of communicating can be very different from others. Many times you can emphasize things that involve society and friends. You can also look a lot at your friends and what they think about a certain thing. You are rebellious when it comes to your opinion. You can talk about very strange, unusual topics (such as: aliens, robots, etc.). You are intelligent, idealistic, humanitarian, open-minded, eccentric, and unconventional. • You spend a lot of time in the realm of your mind, and you’re always searching for logical, rational explanations for things. You love to analyze character and motivation, and with your finely tuned powers of observation are able to predict accurately how someone will react in a certain situation. Sometimes you may seem eccentric, for your ideas are ad- vanced and you also enjoy saying things that shock other people.

Mercury in Pisces- your way of expressing yourself is very poetic, dreamy, cute and loving. You can have a very friendly way of communicating with others and you never want to hurt other people. Many times you pay more attention to how others feel than how you feel. When you talk about a certain thing, you really get into it and your mind really opens up and you usually have a sparkle in your eyes. You like when someone listens to you and you are happy to talk about it. Because you can often be misunderstood, you don't like to talk to many people, but only to those who bring you warmth and give you the feeling that they understand you. You are also sensitive, imaginative, and open-minded. You think in colors, shapes, and feelings and express yourself through abstract ideas and art. ou prefer to live in your fantasies rather than deal with facts, logic, and details. You are big on feelings and impressions rather than words, trusting your inner voice to tell you what’s going on rather than what’s right in front of your face.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🩷🧚🏻‍♀️

[nkogneatho]

۪۫❁ུ۪۪𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 °࿐

—a/n: first thing i wrote after hiatus so still a bit rusty but i tried my best to deliver my emotions. If this gets good response, I'll do part 2. Not proofread. fem!reader

#mlist #taglist #art commissions

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒

For someone who's so confident, Satoru for the first time found himself anxious, legs trembling in the wonderment of what his bext action should be. He was standing at the altar in his neat pale grey suit. All eyes were fixated on him. But that's not what made him nervous. It was how he would react when he sees you. And just then, you appeared like the fragment of his best intentions.

The wedding band started playing the theme. Your white flowy satin dress dancing to the rhythm of the wind. Your beautiful face concealed a little from the veil. You looked so perfect. And just when you finally reached the altar, you stood parallel to him, smiling and satisfied with his reaction. You've never seen him so engorged in something—or someone.

The minister asked him to proceed with the vows.

"Y/N L/N. I usually am the one to talk a lot. But for the first time, I am short of words." You smiled at him.

"I think it's crazy how I see you everyday, but somehow you still manage to take my breath away with how beautiful you are. I know I call myself the honored one...but trust me darling, I am nothing but a fish in your ocean. You...you are my everything. And when I say that, I mean it. I want you to know that if the world is ever against you, I'll be in the front protecting you with all I have. I love you so much, baby." It feels like he's choking on his words.

This man that just said thst he's at loss for words, proceeded to make you tear up with a poetry. You've never been love so much in life. It feels unreal. But you know it's all true when as soon as you say "I do" his lips are on yours, reminding that every touch you feel is real.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

The hall was decorated with white lillies and tulips that you loved so much. People grooving and chattering to the background music. Soon it was time for the moment you've been waiting for. The dance. Your first dance with Geto. The lights dimmed and the spotlight hit the floor as you and Suguru walked into the bright refraction on the floor. The crowd dispersing away to give the newly married couple their full attention.

One of his hands was on your waist while the other intertwined one of yours.

Put your head on my shouuulder...

You both smiled wide as you couldn't have asked for a better song. This was the song that you once told Geto you'd like to dance to. Since then, he remembered to play twirl you around to Paul Anka at every occasion. And this one had to be the best one yet.

Hold me in your arms, baby...

He mouthed the words and you couldn't help but giggle. Suguru doesn't usually sing but he has this deep voice that blend perfectly to the song. It sounds like heaven.

"Get ready to dance to this every anniversary, my love," he whispered.

The room was filled with so many people. Yet, when your eyes recasted your signature "i love you" look, he suddenly felt the world disappear, and only you two exist.

That's when he realized, he really did get lucky when you fell in love with him.

𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍

As always, you woke up late. It's surprising how Toji looks like the one who'd be irresponsible when it's actually you. But hey! He can't complain about it. Weddings and Receptions are tiring. If he could, he'd let you sleep for one whole day if you didn't have a flight to catch. You quickly got dressed and rushed to the airport with your man.

The flight was awful since you were irritated by the snorer next to you. Trust me. You wanted to stuff the macadamia nuts in his nostrils but Toji stopped you from doing so. He had a better and more rational solution of putting headphones over your ears and playing you your favorite song. Your lips widened when his thumb started circling your thighs to calm you and make you relax.

Upon arriving to the hotel, you finally took a big stretch to wash all the tiredness away.

"IT'S HONEYMOON TIME, BABY!!"

You jumped in excitement and pretty much everyone at the entrance was staring at you and Toji. He won't stop you though. He loves watching you dance around everytime you're happy.

You both walked towards the receptionist, with Toji carrying all the luggage. Gotta use the big beefy man privilege baby.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you?"

"Good afternoon. We reserved a suite here a week ago."

"Okay. May I please know the name you reserved it under?" she asked.

"Oh it's Mr. And Mrs. Fushiguro." The moment those words left your lips, Toji felt his world shift. He knew that you were a Fushiguro when you signed the marriage certificate. He knew it when you said "I do" at the altar. He knew it when he placed the ring on your finger. But hearing it from your mouth made him have butterflies in his stomach. Wow. You are really his. He couldn't for one second believe it.

"So this is how heaven feels like," he mumbled.

"You said something, baby?"

"Oh nothing, my love. Just that you're beautiful "

"I'm running on four hours of sleep. My under eyes are darker than your black shirt," you whispered.

"I don't know what you're talking about. You're still the most beautiful person to exist," he argued and you just rolled your eyes. You genuinely wanted to know how he manages to find you beautiful at every occasion.

"Are you in denial?"

"No, darling. I am in love."

Taglist: @sugurini @princess-okkotsu @saturnsoups @cookingforsatoru @oldbutnotold @rin-vana @bimbno @arisaturn @tojigasam @bxrnthyfears @gojoxxluv @seqeva @nanamikentoseyebags @stariwrites @sluttoru @lvmxn @greycaelum @kokonoiscoconut @deskaisers @icyowl @thesimphouse @anxious-chick @monimonieee @sweet-yzabelle @keichartreusely @arguablyferal @kannra21 @bbytamaki @rwibbnz @ta-ni-ya @mamayan @strawwbee @jesi-pinkman @fueledbysano @psychiccloudobject @baewriites @wystericwoes @his-saiko

[jawllines]

So on a Tuesday, Y/N wakes up from a fitful rest and leaves Harry’s bed to find him in the kitchen. Leaf is cradled to his chest while he speaks to someone on the phone – a designer, she thinks, they’re talking about a pattern of something, but Y/N isn’t sure. She doesn’t get to know either because as soon as Harry sees that she’s awake, he smiles, then hovers his finger over the end button, “Mael, I’ll call you a little later, yeah?” He hangs up without a second thought, and Y/N’s eyes go wide. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand. 

“Nah, s’boring shit anyway. Chevron is a thing of the fucking past and it’s not coming back any time soon on my watch.” He turned on his stool, stretching out his legs and waving her forward, and when she got close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs, “You take forever to get up. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were still a human.” 

or

Harry and Y/N like being around each other maybe too much

part 1

part 2

part 3

iv.

Y/N wondered how many vampires she’d seen in her lifetime. 

Unlike the stories and movies, they didn’t lurk in the night and meld into the shadows all of the time. Their skin was pale, but no more pale than someone living in the mountains with very little sun. Their eyes weren’t red, or golden brown, or pools of black – they were just normal irises, no different than humans, the color encrypted in their DNA from conception. They were gorgeous, sometimes eerily so, but not in a way that you could easily group them by their features. It was comparable to being backstage on a runway – the people surrounding you were models, you knew that, and they were all beautiful in their own way with their own unique features. The difference is that instead of only finding them pretty in passing, it’s mesmerizing, almost hard to fathom, alluring in an almost unignorable way. 

But Y/N can’t remember ever being out in public and seeing a vampire, even if she didn’t know what they were called at the time. Clearly she didn’t, if one was able to ask her on a date and she’d just presumed she’d lucked out with an attractive man who didn’t mind dating below his league. Otherwise, they were masters of camouflage, or Y/N was just less observant than she thought. 

Because right now, even to the untrained eye, Y/N is almost positive that she looks like a vampire. Or at least that something is off with her. It’s in the way her posture is almost too correct, ramrod straight like someone straightened out her back and put her in a brace to keep her unmoving. Her chest did not rise and fall with each breath – not because the need to use her lungs had not been completely eradicated yet, but for the fact she’s taking a ton of shallow breaths through her mouth to avoid smelling anything, or anyone.  The way she holds her fork looks weird to her – she hadn’t held a fork in so long it was an unfamiliar weight between her fingers. She gave terse replies to questions, and could barely hold a conversation longer than small talk. 

To anyone looking or interacting with her, they must think she’d grown up in a basement and just recently ventured out into the world. To Harry, who sits across from her with an amused look dancing across his features, he knew she was just attempting to reacclimate into society. 

They had been out before, but normally that was at night, or early during cloudy weekdays when most of the city population is stuck in their stuffy office buildings. When the amount of humans is sparse and Y/N could amble away if being around them became too much. She’d never been forced to sit among them for longer than a couple minutes at a time, maybe waiting in a long line, or patiently off to the side when a human woman was interested in the same earrings that she was. 

That had been her toeing the water; Harry held her hand at the edge of a dock while she dipped her feet into the pool of being a productive member of society again. She would have to return to work at some point, and she would need to be able to attend social events or see her family, or her friends back home without wanting to eat them. Harry was surrounded by humans all day nearly every day and he hasn’t lashed out and ended up in a tabloid for sinking his teeth into a designer. It was possible, though it would take time, and a lot of practice – at some point she would be able to integrate seamlessly back into the human world. 

At some point – right now, it was fucking hard. 

Harry took her out for lunch, at a small deli a couple blocks from his flat. It was a day when the sky was heavy with clouds and would be for the majority of the afternoon, so they were able to venture out with no fear that Y/N would get all rashy again. All of Y/N’s fear lay within being in closed quarters with humans and pretending that the scent of their blood doesn’t affect her in the slightest. Or that the leaves of the salad she was stuffing into her mouth tasted more than just bland, rubbery nothing to a palate now keen on something metallic and sweet. And in that fear, and her overexerting her effort trying to look normal, she thinks she’s making herself look uncanny, unapproachable, and too much like she doesn’t belong. Like someone clipped her out of a comic book and pasted her in The Very Hungry Caterpillar. 

“Relax your shoulders,” Harry spoke from across the table, having already eaten half his sandwich, tucking the straw of his soda at the corner of his lips and sipping, “It looks like I just brought you out of a boarding school.” 

“Shut up.” Y/N had been saying that a lot to him today because it was two simple words that didn’t require as much effort as trying not to eat someone. 

Harry smiled, all too relaxed for what Y/N would think are pretty serious circumstances but she guesses he’s been through this so often he isn’t worried about a thing. Harry never seemed worried when they did something new, always promising her that he would know if she was going to do something stupid, because he knows her. And if the need to subdue her were to arise, then he could do so easily, or so he tells her every time she’s stressed about it. 

“You had plenty to eat before we came,” he murmured, voice just a touch lower, his brows raising slightly, “Even if you take a small little breath through your nose, you won’t feel like you need to do anything.” 

It’s difficult to talk inconspicuously about it, in case someone nosy was listening into their conversation (because Y/N is fucking nosy, so she knows someone else is bound to match her), but Harry does it easily. Y/N did eat a considerable amount before they did this, from the baggies, and even a little treat from Harry just before they’d left the flat. She was full, blood-drunk, and hazy up to the point that they were about to walk inside the shop and she’d worked herself up. 

“Mind over matter,” Harry slid his leg to her and locked their ankles together – he was resting his chin and cheek in his palm, watching her carefully, drinking her in, “Just take a small little breath through your nose, hm? You’ll see it’s not as bad as you think.” 

Y/N blinks at him, gripping her fork a little too hard, and she feels the stainless steel give beneath her grip, “I – okay,” she nodded, slow, steady – the whole point of this excursion was to start working on being able to smell humans without wanting to desperately sink her teeth into them. Before she could start utilizing feeders, she needed to be completely in control of how her body responds and reacts to stimuli like this. At least that’s what Harry tells her, and she’s inclined to believe him since there isn’t anyone to bounce off of his ideas anymore. She isn’t sure if they’re still on the pathway he used for all the new vampires he mentored or if he’d toggled it based on their situation. She could message Christopher and Naomi about it but every time she messages them, her heart yearns and aches in her chest.

“You’ll stop me if anything happens?” She knows he will, but she feels better when he’s all cocky and sure of himself. One of them needed complete faith in the situation, and it usually was Harry. 

Harry, who had been treating her all soft and tender lately. His words could still be harsh and he rolls his eyes and rumples his lips at her when she says something he thinks is stupid, and he’s patient, but even that patience runs out relatively quickly – but every interaction has a much softer edge to it. With every harsh critique of her technique or skill, (“How many times are you going to listen to the neighbor’s conversation and not me outside, downstairs, when you’re on the balcony? It shouldn’t matter how many flights up you are, this is baby stuff we’re trying to accomplish now!”) there is a gentle caress of her skin. His fingers will dance along her wrist, and he’ll slide his fingers between the slots of hers, and squeeze, before murmuring, “Let’s try again.” 

They are much closer now – Y/N doesn’t know if they’re dating, or if vampires even date, but she knows that Harry treats her like they might be. Harry pushes his nose into her neck and breathes in deeply like she’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. He entertains her musings about code and work despite not having a clue what she’s talking about or saying. At the end of the night (early in the morning) when she is thinking about lying down, Harry offers his room to her, his bed. 

“You can always sleep in here,” he’d told her, “Even if I’m not here, yeah? Just don’t stain the sheets or anything, because to keep them this pristine even with a kitten has been hell.” 

Shit, he’s even referred to Leaf as their baby a couple of times, whereas previously he’s only called her his own. “What are you doing to my baby?” Is what he would say before when Leaf is playing with one of the many feathered string toys that Harry bought her and Y/N accidentally makes her jump right into the wall. Now it’s things like, “Our baby is so happy,” when she comes up to them on the sofa, purring and kneading at Y/N’s thighs before snuggling in her lap and falling asleep. 

Things with him were soft. This certainly felt like a relationship, sometimes, but Y/N knew better than to get ahead of herself. Last time she did that she ran away from her hometown and then got bitten by a fucking vampire, so it was better to just take things a step at a time. 

“What, you think I’m g’na let you eat someone and make me look bad?” He speaks low enough that only she could hear, helped by the loud chatter of voices around them, and stretches one arm across the table, looping his fingers around her forearm, and dragging the blunt tip of his nail along her skin, “Of course I’ll stop you, dummy.” 

Y/N shivers but feels safe; he’s got a leg wrapped around hers, and a hand on her. If she tried to move, he would stop her immediately. Harry doesn’t say aloud that that’s what he’s doing, but they both know it makes her feel better when he’s got his hands on her in some way. She’d told him as much in the past when she’d looped her arm in the gap between his and his body when they first went into the grocery store. 

“Hm, is this a ploy to make me touch you in public? You’re a filthy exhibitionist.” He’d teased her at the time, but now he keeps his hand on her when they’re out. An arm wrapped around her shoulder, a hand at the nape of her neck, his fingers looped around her wrist. 

She lets herself breathe in, just a little bit, a tiny inhale through her nose. The scents weren’t overwhelming like she’d thought – there’s plenty to sift through, it wasn’t just an onslaught of the blood pumping through the veins surrounding them. Fresh bread, the fabric softener on people’s clothes, the cleaner used to wipe down tables when they were emptied – she smelled all of that too. All a mix, like when she was a human, only she could smell and separate them just a note better than she could before. And the blood – she couldn’t smell blood before, but with a belly full, it wasn’t as hard. It still made her mouth water, and there was an itch beneath her skin that wanted to be plucked at, but nothing she couldn’t handle. 

Harry drags his nails back and forth on her forearm lazily, “See?” His relaxed posture stays, leaning on his palm, “You’re not a monster, are you, baby?” 

She swallowed thickly, shaking her head, “No, I’m not,” she cleared her throat a little, “We need to –  um – we need to get Leaf chicken treats, she likes those best.” Y/N wanted to practice being normal, talking about normal things, and thinking about something else than how she’s trying not to breathe in too deeply. She didn’t necessarily explain this to Harry beforehand but he doesn’t seem confused either, just goes along with it. 

“Really? I kind of thought she liked the shrimp ones better.” 

Y/N focuses more on Harry’s scent – he smells good. He always smells so good, that whenever she does sleep in his bed, she dips her nose into the blankets and stuffs her face into the pillows (obviously when he’s not there, she would never live that down).  If she could shove her nose in the base of his throat and not stuff her teeth into his neck then she would do it all of the time. Harry does it to her, unprovoked and unannounced, burrowing the cold tip of his nose against her carotid. She used to squirm, her ear meeting her shoulder as she pulled away from him, but now she’s gotten used to it – now, she almost expects it when he comes home from work, and if he doesn’t, she’s a little disappointed. 

It’s easy to forget why she’s at Harry’s in the first place if she’s just focusing on her and Harry’s dynamic. It’s also easy to forget that she would eventually face the music when she has to confront her feelings – Niall. There was a heavy weight on her shoulders like she wore a helmet of cast iron everywhere she went; sometimes she would forget about it, it’d been so long that it was easy to let it slip her mind, but then her shoulders would feel the pressure of it periodically. 

Like when you wear glasses for the first time. At first, it is all you can think about, how it rests on the bridge of your nose, the way the frames outline your field of view. But a couple of hours in they’re merely an extension of you, you forget they’re on your face until you reach up to rub your eye and something is in the way. 

The helmet was heavy, the look in Niall’s eyes as he told her, the cold feeling that had flushed through her veins when he’d admitted it. She wondered if it felt like his own helmet had been lifted, the weight of his guilt eased by the admission. Did he know he was going to transfer it to her? Take the helmet off and plop it onto her head? 

Her heart was torn in two. Y/N wanted to hate him for it, she really did – want to cuss him out, scratch him, and spit on him – how did vampires fight? Did they bite each other? Do they punch each other? Kick, slap? Was it still below the belt to kick him in the balls or was that an appropriate fighting tactic? Harry had never taught her how to fight – she thought maybe some sort of combat training would be important down the line, but vampires don’t usually do that. Movies and books make it seem like it was a constant battle, always something going on that they needed to defeat. Vampires typically coexist peacefully, is the thing, and their only true threat are hunters but it’s often better to avoid them or flee the situation than to fight, at least when you’re new. As long as she doesn’t act recklessly then she wouldn’t have to worry. 

And in the same breath that she hated him, she owed him her life. It was a new one – a flawed one, no more flawed than her old life, but still a new life. She would have to change how she lives, eats, exists, and it’s scary – it’s so scary! But she was alive. She was still walking around, she could still work toward goals she’d set for herself, and she could find a place for herself in this world instead of bleeding out in an alley, still feeling lost and alone. 

Would she have walked away from someone in need how she expected Niall to? If she’d stumbled upon the same scene, would she have been able to ignore it? She couldn’t even ignore a fucking kitten meowing! So it was hard – her feelings were difficult to work through and that was only worsened by her not seeing him. Playing house at Harry’s flat and ignoring what happened. 

“Where’d you go?” Harry pulls her out of her reverie, and she realizes she’d been digging her fingers into the croissant she was holding, her eyes dazed. He drags his fingers along her skin again, tenderly, gently, “Hmm? Where’d my girl go?” 

Y/N feels warm and bubbly and allows herself to revel in the giddiness that comes with Harry treating her like something special. If there was one single benefit from this whole mess, it would be Harry – experiencing this homely side of him. Whether it be the connection through their blood, or their time spent together, she felt at complete, and total ease in Harry’s presence. If she was starting to spiral, he pulled her out of it just as quickly. 

“Sorry,” she murmured, swallowing, ripping a piece of the flaky pastry and laying it on her tongue – it tasted like nothing, chalky and bland, “I. . .need to figure things out with Niall soon. I can’t keep burdening you.” 

“You’re no burden,” he answered without a second thought, “Not even a little bit, but I understand needing to sort things out for your peace of mind.” He reaches forward, thumbing at the apple of her cheek, and pinching playfully, “But you don’t need to leave just for that, hm? You’re no burden to me.” 

Y/N rests on the palm of his cheek, sighing, and the smell of all the other humans in the place pales in comparison to Harry, “Mm,” she nuzzles – it’s embarrassing, how easy she is for him, but he doesn’t tease her like he probably could, “I just. . .I think, how I’m seeing it, is I would have done the same.” She explained, “If I’d seen someone, I would have done the same, you know?” Her gaze flickered toward him, “Would you?” 

“I have,” he shrugged, “You know, it’s something that you never really know what you’ll do at the moment but when it’s presented in front of you – that’s when you’ll know. You act off instinct,” he squeezes her shoulder, slipping down to her bicep, “Just how you ran to go save Leaf with no concern of the sun. This isn’t me trying to sway you either,” he shook his head, “If you decided you fucking hated him and never wanted to see him again, I would endorse it. If you decide that you’ll forgive him, then I’ll accept that – whatever you want to do.” 

Y/N nodded, “Yeah,” she ripped another piece of croissant, “Yeah, okay.”

                                                                   .                          .                         .

Despite coming to terms with what she wanted to do, it still took her a week to gain the courage to see him. Harry doesn’t push the issue, merely enjoys his time with her and Leaf until she tells him she is ready. Honestly, there were a couple of times when Y/N wondered if she should just start ignoring it again and live life peacefully with Harry, or as peacefully as she could. But still, it weighed on her, like a Niall-shaped force that stretched himself over her and smothered her in her sleep. She had dreams of confronting him, some heartwarming and with a good outcome, some horrible that left her with tears bearding her eyes. 

She needed to do it. If she did, then she could better focus on whatever the hell is going on between her and Harry. And being a vampire. . .big, important things like that. 

So on a Tuesday, Y/N wakes up from a fitful rest and leaves Harry’s bed to find him in the kitchen. Leaf is cradled to his chest while he speaks to someone on the phone – a designer, she thinks, they’re talking about a pattern of something, but Y/N isn’t sure. She doesn’t get to know either because as soon as Harry sees that she’s awake, he smiles, then hovers his finger over the end button, “Mael, I’ll call you a little later, yeah?” He hangs up without a second thought, and Y/N’s eyes go wide. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” she frowned and Harry waved his hand. 

“Nah, s’boring shit anyway. Chevron is a thing of the fucking past and it’s not coming back any time soon on my watch.” He turned on his stool, stretching out his legs and waving her forward, and when she got close enough, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her closer, until she was standing between his thighs, “You take forever to get up. If I didn’t know any better, I would think you were still a human.” 

She laid her hands on his thighs, “I need to do it today,” she told him, and she didn’t have to be descriptive for Harry to know what she was talking about, “It’s gotta be today or I won’t.” 

His gaze softened, the pale skin of his face smoothed over into something contemplative and understanding. There’s a soft sound that pulls from his throat, and his legs squeeze around her as he nods, “Okay,” he answered easily, “Do you want to ambush him or should I give him a heads up?” 

“Will he run away if he knows I’m coming?” 

Harry pursed his lips in thought, “You know, Niall isn’t one to run away,” he started, “But he also isn’t one to admit when he’s in the wrong either, and he’s done that, so I reckon some of the things I knew about him fundamentally might be wrong. He may flee from guilt alone or he’ll respect you enough to want to hear what you have to say.” 

“Then you can let him know,” she took Leaf, scratching the soft, short furs beneath her chin, “If this is a friendship worth salvaging, then he’ll wait for me.” 

The drive, which typically felt like an hour-long adventure out to the secluded space in which Mitch’s house resided, felt far quicker than it ever had before. Y/N thought it was because this time, she actually wanted it to go by slowly so that she had the chance to collect her thoughts and plan out exactly what she was going to say, and how she was going to say it. She needed the full forty-ish minutes (accounting rush hour) to develop her script, but Harry must be pressing the gas pedal right down to the floorboards because they zip through the roads in record time. 

There’s a hazy, orange glow casting over the trees while the sun sank beyond the horizon, the other half of the sky blotching the inky black sky of a winter night. She wondered if there would be stars later on – there hadn’t been for the last couple of days because of clouds heavy with snow, that’s now freckling the earth and freezing up the soil. Y/N missed them – she feels like she hasn’t seen them in a while. 

They roll up in front of the house, and Y/N thinks all of three seconds go by before a pouting Naomi rips the passenger door open, “Shame on Harry for keeping you all to himself,” she whined, and she unbuckling Y/N before Y/N could even gather her bearings, pulling her out of the car and into her arms. Naomi looks a bit frail but she’s got the strength of someone who’s prepared for war, and she gives Y/N a bone-crushing hug. “I’ve missed you!” 

Y/N laughed lightly, squeezing her arms out from where they’d been trapped between their bodies so she could reciprocate the show of affection, “I missed you too,” she replied. 

“Oi,” he grumbled, “I wasn’t keeping her to myself, I gave her a haven in a rough time.” 

“You never let any of us come over besides Christopher!” 

Harry crossed his arms, after pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, “Why would I want you heathens in my flat? The lot of you would trash the place or steal from me.” 

“You’re just no good at sharing, you –” 

Their voices fade into the background as Y/N leaves them to bicker, a tiny quirk at her lips like the muscles in her face want to smile but are thinking better than to. It was nice, sort of, to be back; to smell all the familiar scents, like she was returning home. This felt more like home than her flat did now, just from the sheer amount of time she’d spent here. She walked the familiar map from the front door, to her room, and nearly made a pitstop to give herself more time but muscled through the desire to. Y/N took the four more steps she needed to before knocking on Niall’s door – she could smell him in there. 

“Come in.” His voice sounds stiff, and when she opens the door, the position he’s sitting in matches it. He must have heard her coming because he isn’t in the lax state he normally is – his legs are off the end of the mattress, feet firm on the floor. He sits straight, his face serious, stern. She’s so used to the nonchalant way he goes about that this is the most uncanny and makes her feel like an agent sent to question him, or a judge to sentence him. Y/N hated that, she doesn’t want it to be like that – she wants it to be normal between them. Or, normal-ish, at least. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her cat paw chair sitting at the foot of his bed. Niall followed her gaze and answered before she could even question it, “I – um – promise I wasn’t stealing that,” he replied, “I missed. . .you know – having it in here made me feel a little better. Which I know, I don’t deserve to feel good about what happened.” 

Y/N ignored him, closed the door behind her, and then plopped down in the chair, resting her back on the pink, plush toe beans, “Get on the floor,” she ordered, patting the empty spot in front of her with her foot, “Please stop sitting so straight, it’s freaking me out.” 

Niall is quick to crawl down on the floor in front of her, he relaxes his shoulders so they slump just a little, and he kicks his left leg out how he usually did when he was sprawled out on the floor of her room and they were talking. It brings some normalcy to the situation that Y/N desperately needs. She bites the inside of her bottom lip for a second before giving an unneeded clear of her throat (it was just a habit at this point, she wondered how long it would take for it to break). 

“I’m just gonna come right out with it because I don’t want to beat around the bush, and if I do, I’ll just talk myself in circles until I don’t make any sense,” she started, “At first I was so mad at you I could have slapped you and spit on you and called you names. I was pretty sure that I never wanted to see you again and that I would be fine if you were completely wiped from my life,” he grimaces at the description but does nothing to refute it, “But you couldn’t have been wiped from my life, if I wasn’t living to begin with, which – I know, it gets a little confusing and convoluted. This life I have now is. . .odd, and different, and I’m not human anymore, and maybe by all technicalities I’m not alive, but I feel like I am.” She runs her thumbnail along the inside of her other palm, following the lines in them she’s had since birth, “I feel the world around me, and I can love, and I can talk, and laugh, and work, and cry. I can do all the things that I did before and then some, so even if it is different. . .I’m still alive. And I wouldn’t be had it not been for you.” 

Niall is following along, motionless, soaking in every word, “I’m more upset that you kept it from me. It would have just been nice to know, right? What exactly had happened that night, it’d been plaguing my mind and you would ask every so often, and now I’m realizing it was less from a place of care and more you covering your tail.” She shrugged her shoulders when Niall’s face scrunched with shame, “But I can’t sit here and act like I would do something different. I don’t know what I would do, in a situation like that – I think, if I came across someone in my position, then I would have changed them too. I don’t really know how at this point, but I would have tried to figure it out. And I would have been scared, afterward, I don’t know if I would have told anyone either. But I thought we were close enough. . .at least a month in, I feel like you could have told me,” she sighed, “That’s what makes me angriest. I thought we were friends but you were just being nice to me because you felt bad.” 

“That’s not true.” It was the first time he’d uttered a word since she began, “You – maybe at the start, I was a little more protective of you because I felt bad, but the rest of it – I truly felt friendship with you. Not all of it was a lie,” he shook his head, “I wanted to tell you, I did, but it never seemed like an opportune time to. And the one chance I did get, I chickened out. But I get it, if – if you need to be angry, be angry, I honestly wish you would just slap me or hit me or something, so it felt like I was getting punished for it.” 

“I wanted to, believe me, but Harry was pretty convinced that you were punishing yourself enough for it. Listen, what I’m saying is,” she crawled off the cat paw, and took his hands in her own – they were smooth and ice cold – he probably hasn’t been eating well, “My feelings are very conflicted and confusing, and I don’t know if I forgive you entirely, but forgiveness isn’t out of the question. Do you get what I mean?” Niall hums his assent, “I know things can’t go back to the way they were entirely, but I’d like it if we could get somewhere close to it. And – and if you think about it, we’ll probably be around for decades, won’t we? I’m bound to get over it eventually.” 

Niall and Y/N don’t really hug – Naomi is the touchy-feely type, and Y/N can be when she wants to be, but Niall is much more reserved with his affections. So that’s why she is tentative and a little hesitant in embracing him, slowly wrapping her arms around his neck, but she’s pleasantly surprised to feel him hug her back tightly, “I’m sorry,” he murmured, and his words vibrated through her throat, “I’m so sorry, thank you for even coming back to talk to me. I thought surely with Harry at your side, you would’ve hated my guts.” 

“You would be surprised by this, but Harry went to bat for you pretty hard,” she peeled back just a little bit, “I mean, he didn’t try to change my opinion but his of you never faltered.” 

Niall frowned, “Ugh, it’s so hard to keep up with hating him sometimes,” Y/N laughed, “Seriously, he’ll be the worst prick alive and then he does something unreasonably kind and it’s like. . .either be a dick, or be nice, I hate the mix-up.” He gently let his arms slip away from her but he remained close, “Speaking of, I’ve been eavesdropping on him and Mitch – they never hear me coming so I can always get away with knowing shite I shouldn’t – has he told you yet? About the whole blood thing?” 

Y/N shook her head, and part of her was worried that Niall would save it for Harry to tell her, but she forgot that Niall is Niall, and through and through, he loved causing trouble for Harry at any given notice, “After Mitch’s initial displeasure that he’d been keeping it from him, he said there was something called ‘fated pairs’ or something like that. Your bodies call out to each other on a molecular level, something that was – predetermined the day you were both born. There was a lot of vampiric folklore nonsense that he spouted off, but he seemed pretty convinced. I don’t know why it affects you both in the way that it would make you horny, but, yeah. He said that it would’ve been the same if you were human – even if you were both humans, actually. That it was like a soul bond.” 

It was a lot to take in; Y/N is relieved of one stress and then immediately another is placed on top of her. Was it stress though? She doesn’t feel stressed at the thought of them being bonded together by their souls – she doesn’t mind that – but she is stressed that maybe he minded that. Because as far as Harry was concerned, there was no rhyme or reason for their reaction to one another’s blood. Y/N hadn’t even known he’d spoken to Mitch about it, and so to find out he has and he didn’t even express the findings to her. . .worries her, a bit. Did he not like it? Was the thought of being tied to her horrible? But if it was then he wouldn’t have been so doting and cuddly these last few weeks, right? 

“You look stressed,” he noted, “I would be too if I was bonded to that fucker, so I understand.” 

Breathlessly, she laughs again, “He’s not so bad.” 

                                                                .                           .                        . 

Harry gets pretty clingy when Y/N goes back. 

Though he’d promised that she wasn’t a bother, she still felt guilty to be inhabiting his home when he was at work. She’d been hearing him postpone different trips too, a couple of days in Italy, a fashion show in France – things that he always went to before, and she had a feeling it was because he didn’t want to leave her alone. It was sweet, but it made her feel guilty, so she decided it was okay to go back for a little while and reacclimate to the house. 

It wasn’t so bad – going from Harry’s modern, high-tech flat to Mitch’s Victorian-style mansion was different but it isn’t horrible. Y/N liked being surrounded by people when Harry was at work or attending some smarmy event, instead of being alone. The only downside was there was a little Leaf-shaped hollow in her heart, but Harry describes shared custody and drops her off with Y/N when he knows he’s going to be out all day or if he does have to leave for one of those week-long trips. 

The others act like she never left. She goes to the movie nights and nobody mentions what happened. Christopher gives her a big, long hug when he sees that she’s returned, then promptly warms her two mugs of “the sweetest blood” as a welcome home present. Naomi comes to inhabit Y/N’s bed and talks about pop culture and how Samuel is fucking someone who isn’t Theodore so that had been a lot of drama while she was away. Delphine starts to visit her room for Leaf – apparently, she’d grown up with a lot of barn cats, so she was very fond of them, and they find their shared love for animals as a link to start speaking more comfortably with each other. And wherever Delphine was, Saskia was close behind. Her past with cats was checkered because she had an allergy to them before, but being a vampire meant eradicating all allergies, so she hesitantly gave Leaf a pet or two. 

Leaf, all tiny and soft, loves the extra attention. 

Niall still comes to her room but not without being invited first. Y/N thinks eventually this will change, but it seems like he doesn’t want to smother her with his presence, though Y/N wouldn’t find it smothering at all. He’s still hesitant, and she gets it – Y/N liked that he respected her enough to let her decide if she was in the right headspace to see him that day or not. 

The only person who takes it hard and acts like it is the worst thing in the world is Harry. He never goes three days without coming to see her, and when he isn’t with her, he’s messaging her and calling her, asking if she wants to FaceTime in between flights. When he does come, he poses a strict, “Nobody bothers us” rule where he threatens to move her dresser in front of the door to ward off “unwanted” intruders (though they could all probably move the dresser anyway, they’re very strong). He crawled into her bed and pulled her into his body, dragging the blankets over them, “You smell too much like the others,” he’d grumble, resting his chin on the top of her head, “Hate it.” 

“You’re silly,” she’d respond but soaked in the snuggling happily — it used to be something they merely indulged in while she was asleep; before, Harry would only ever kind of curl around her or pet her or hold her when she was all blood drunk and full, seconds from slumber. Now he’s much more open and willing to do it whenever – when they were watching the telly, when they were on the ground and Y/N was painting her nails (“I should sit behind you, yeah? You can sit between my legs, and when you’re done with one hand, I’ll blow on your fingers to dry them,”) if they were outside on the deck, practicing whatever Harry had come up with for the day.He crowds her space like he was made to. If Harry was there, they’re glued at the hip, and that was just normal now. 

Y/N wondered if he would ever bring up the whole bond thing, but he seemed content not to. Still, it didn’t seem to deter him from letting her snack on his blood, which she sure only furthers the whole thing. So maybe he wasn’t concerned with it – maybe he was just seeing where it went. Y/N isn’t sure, but she’s usually good at ignoring things. If the other party didn’t want to talk about it then she wouldn’t either, it was never in her nature to press for answers. 

. . .when she was a human, at least. Being a vampire hasn’t changed her at a fundamental level, she doesn’t believe, but it has given her a new outlook on life, and a different perspective on some things. It was better to ask and get an answer that she didn’t want rather than continue not knowing something for sure. If she’d lived by that rule in the past it would have probably saved her a lot of trouble. 

So Y/N asks him outright, Leaf curled in her lap in a tiny furry heap, and Harry with his arms curled around Y/N’s body protectively. Nobody else was in the den – they were either in their rooms or out and about (with a strict curfew now, because of the whole thing between her and Niall – Mitch blamed himself for giving them a little too much freedom being newly presented). Harry suggested they utilize the tv then, instead of trying to watch it on her laptop screen. Harry tells her they should be at his flat, but since he was supposed to go three hours away for a photoshoot tomorrow, he didn’t want to leave her alone (it turns out he’d been postponing more than she had initially thought so now he was playing catch up – something about Spring deadlines and all of that). 

The screen clears as the next episode of the show they’re watching loads up, and maybe it isn’t the best timing or the best place to do it, but she has to ask before she loses her nerve. 

“Are we a. . .fated pair? Is that what it’s called?” 

She feels Harry stiffen behind her, his hold around her arms tightening only slightly as he processes what she’d just inquired. There aren’t a lot of things that could stun Harry, as long as he’s been around he normally has a response to anything and everything within a couple of seconds – but he sits with this for a little longer. His fingers, where they’d rested on her waist, began to play with the fabric of her shirt, plucking at the hem and fiddling with the stitches. The tension in the air is palpable, but it isn’t a horrible tension. Not something she wanted to run away from, at least. 

“Niall,” Harry finally muttered, like he’d been spending half of the time he was silent, trying to figure out how Y/N would have heard that, “That fucker is too good at masking his presence.” 

“Harry –” 

“I know,” he exhales, and Y/N thinks it’s funny that he does things like this not because he’s releasing a breath, but to express how he’s feeling. He nudges the side of her head with his own and dips his nose into the curve of her throat, his favorite spot, “With you at my flat, and with how you’d been eating from me still, the – how I felt for you was becoming concerning and a little obsessive. Not in like an obsessive “I’m going to kill her so nobody else can have her” way, more like a “I want to be near her and I’m forgoing responsibilities to spend time with her” kind of way. I don’t do that, for people, I’m not. . .so giving with my time, which makes me sound like a dick, but it’s the truth. I have my time and they have theirs, even if it’s someone that I’m interested in,” he slides his fingers beneath her shirt’s fabric, his nails tracing circles into her skin, “But with you, I just. . .wanted to be around you. To be with you makes me feel calm; it soothes me like putting ice on a sprain. And for you to drink from my vein and our bodies react so intensely to it. . .well, it had to be something.” 

“I was glad to ignore it and just continue enjoying myself with you, but I was getting curious. And I knew you and Niall would make up soon, and you’re so concerned about being a burden all of the time, I knew you wouldn’t take me up on my offer to stay with me. This meant I was going to be coming around her, and being way more possessive and clingy than I ever have before and Mitch always knows what’s going on in the house. He would ask me about it eventually, so I just beat him to it.” He lifted his head, and his words were less muffled when he coaxes her to lean back against his chest more, “He went into the most intricate, convoluted discussion about molecules, and vampiric folklore, and I’ll be honest most of it went right over my fucking head, except for him saying that we were bound together by our souls. That whether we had met like this, or centuries ago in my village, while I was running from war, or had I just been some random UNI student sitting beside you in class – we would always have this kind of connection. It’s rare,” he squeezes her hips, “It’s a rare thing, a really rare thing, and it used to happen more often back in the 1600s but that doesn’t mean it never happens now.” 

Y/N cranes her neck to face him, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Her brows pinched toward the center, and Harry reached out, using his thumb to press at the crinkle in her skin and smooth it out. 

“I wanted to, but – I don’t know. I kind of wanted you to conclude for yourself, if you liked me or not. I didn’t want it to feel forced because you knew about this. Other than my blood making you a filthy, horny little thing, I don’t know exactly what your feelings are for me. And I know – you told me you feel whole after you drink from me, but again, outside of that – outside of the blood, I don’t know how you feel.” 

Y/N thinks, that if she’d eaten recently, blood would be roaring in her ears and her heart would be thudding something fierce in her chest. It was one thing to have Niall tell her on a whim, it was another thing for Harry to admit it to her, all shy, avoiding her gaze and pressing tight and close to her body. It was another thing to hear him feel insecure about not knowing how she felt about him.

Because for Y/N, she’d thought she’d been incredibly obvious. She wanted to be around him always, she recognized his scent out of everyone anywhere, she felt safe when his hands were on her in some way, or even when he was just nearby. Even when he was short with her, or grumpy, Y/N had felt endlessly at ease. After what happened at the club, he was the only person she wanted to be around. The way her heart lights up when he calls her sweet names, or when she sees him for the first time in a while. How her whole mind swam at the prospect of him rather hurting his hands than letting anyone else see her vulnerable when she’d been in the sun. No matter when he lost his patience, or when he seemed upset, or even when he swore up and down that he shouldn’t be a mentor  – he was supportive, tender, and made her head feel melty and her insides gossamer soft. 

“I have plenty of reason to like you, outside of some bond,” she finally replied, wiggling in his arms to face him again – Leaf got up, stumbled out of her lap, then stretched with a silent yawn, “And it wasn’t just after eating. Just being with you makes me feel. . .complete, just as I said before. I thought it was just the blood, but when you leave for work and we’re separated, there’s a – it’s noticeable, the gape I feel in your absence.” Y/N curled her fingers up in his shirt, “I mean, how I feel for you, surpasses how I ever felt for Daniel, my old friend. As dramatic as it is, I’d thought I would never be able to love again –” 

“Oh, you humans and your theatrics,” he murmured with a laugh and Y/N smiled shyly, looking away. 

“-- but the way I’ve felt about you lately, I just don’t think whatever puppy love crush I had on him scratches the surface. Sorry, I wasn’t clear about it. I’d been so focused on trying to figure out my place in this world again and how to live life like this, that I hadn’t given myself a chance to sit and sort through my emotions. But they’re there – they’re real and scary.” 

Harry kisses her – she wasn’t expecting it, but she’d completely turned around in his lap by then so at least the angle wasn’t horrible. His lips are soft, and without the preface of something lewd, it is saccharine and chaste. Y/N shivered, her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into him, practically molding herself into the shape of his body. It was good – Harry’s been treating her delicately for a while now, but this was different. Like he was kissing something important to him. Something that he wanted to handle with softhearted gloves. 

When they part, Harry kisses the corner of her mouth, then her right cheek, her temple, over her forehead, and down the other side of her face. They’re feather-light and ticklish but his arms cage her in so she couldn’t wiggle away, helpless but to giggle. Once he finishes, he hums low and their eyes meet. 

“I’ll be keeping you, so get used to this.” He admitted, and if he’d eaten recently, then his cheeks would have flushed pink the way they do anytime he’s sentimental.

Y/N nodded and hid herself in his chest. 

She didn’t mind that at all. 

                                                              .                        .                       .

Harry couldn’t wait to see her. 

He used to take great pleasure in his week to two-week-long trips out of the country for work, whether he was going to Dubai, Milan, Paris, or other places like it. Harry would gorge on international feeders and sex and all the adoration from people who question his otherworldly beauty and get lost in his sharp gaze. It was nice to be sought after, admired, to get his fill of all the blood he wanted. He thought it was a fair trade, for all those years ago, when he’d been scrawny and worthless to everyone. 

However, now? He just can’t wait to get home. Without the sex and the gorging, there actually wasn’t a whole lot to do in any of those spots that he hadn’t done thousands and thousands of times before. It was work, strictly work, and there was no sort of pleasure, apart from the gratification of seeing one of his looks trek down the runway. Besides that, there was only one person he wanted to sleep with now, one person he wanted to be adored by, and only one person he wished to get lost in his gaze. 

And she was thousands of kilometers away from him, probably coding some program that made no sense to his brain, in his sweatshirt that he made her promise to wear and those horrific (and endearingly cute) slippers shaped like cats that she picked up from the store in honor of Leaf (who liked to chew on them when Y/N wiggled her toes). Even on the plane ride back home, he wondered how he could make it quicker – if there was a way to travel even faster than a plane. He supposes he could run, his legs are quite fast, but if someone spotted him going a little too fast to be human, then that would be a whole other list of shit to deal with instead of just tucking himself into Y/N’s side. 

So as soon as he was finished up, the models had gone home, he’d given his statement for editorials, and he’d shared one glass of wine with a designer he really couldn’t be arsed to learn the name of (he’d drank with types like Chanel and Dior in the past, so the glitz and glamor of it now are easily lost on him) – Harry was on a plane and headed home. He used the in-flight wifi to watch a movie Y/N had suggested to him, but he was barely paying attention. How could he, when he was so excited to get home to her? 

It was crazy to think this was where their relationship had ended up. She used to be nothing but an obnoxious little thorn in his side and now all he wants to do is smother her with affection and give her his blood. Y/N was so important to him, it made his heart feel heavy and full for the first time in. . .well, he isn’t sure it’s ever felt this heavy and full before. The weight in his chest is unfamiliar, and at first, it had been unwelcomed, but he likes it now. It’s as if she’d curled her body around it and took residence there. She’s always with him, in that sense of it. 

The others had gotten used to it far quicker than he’d imagined they would. He expected more teasing as well, but they all like Y/N a lot, so he guesses to tease him is to tease her indirectly and they don’t want to. The most he gets is scolded that he isn’t good at sharing, and why should he be? Harry feels like he’d spent centuries waiting for her, now that he has her – doesn’t he deserve to be a little selfish? Especially after a week of not seeing her, Harry just wants her all to himself. That’s why he suggested that she come to his flat the first day he’s back, so they could be alone. 

So he’s more than happy, after the flight, after getting his shit from baggage claim and finding his car in the mass of other vehicles parked for overnight trips, and the 30-minute long drive from the airport to his flat – to see her just as he’d envisioned her. Only with a few additions; she wore the sweatshirt, and she had on these little shorts that were filthy (but she swore up and down she wore them because they were comfortable and not to taunt him with how little it would take before her bum was out), but tucked under her thigh was Leaf’s feather toy. Whenever Y/N was working, Leaf could go from sleeping peacefully at her side to the zoomies in all of three seconds, so this was her way of keeping her preoccupied – the stick was placed just precisely so that the feather and the string hung off the side of the couch for Leaf to jump and pull at. Y/N has pretty decent thigh muscles so she’s able to keep it in place without letting it move around too much. 

She has those horrible little booties on,  but she’s wrapped up in the throw blanket that Harry usually has wrapped around him – not for warmth, of course, but the way soft fibers feel against his skin is nice. He knows Y/N is not using it for that purpose because it touches nowhere that her skin shows, besides a little bit of her face. Y/N has it so close to her so that she can smell him, and Harry is just. . .so endeared by that he could scream. 

When he walked through the door, Y/N turned to face him with a big grin. She slid her computer out of her lap, and Leaf’s toy fell to the ground once she stood, carefully stepping over the kitten, and getting up on the other sofa so she could climb over it. She gets to him quicker this way, and her arms slink around his neck, and she holds him close, “Finally,” she murmured, “A week is too long.”

“You could always come with me.” He smiled into her hair, letting his eyes close – it was good to have her in his arms again, “I don’t think they’d mind a puppy backstage.” 

Y/N peeled away from him, flicking him in the center of his chest, “Shut up,” she threw at him, but it held no real spite, and her eyes were dripping in mirth, “Should I dress myself then show up?” 

“Oh, baby, please don’t – let me be the one to dress you.” 

It was nice, that back and forth, and had Harry not felt so keyed up then he probably would have started a load of laundry, showered, gotten in more comfortable clothes and they could have just hung out for the night. 

But Harry was keyed up – a week away from Y/N meant a week away from not only her beautiful brain, but her beautiful body as well, and he was missing the sounds she’d make when his fingers slid against her. How easy she was to rile up, the way she tasted on his tongue, how dripping wet she got from even just a little bit of Harry’s blood in her. It’s precisely why he’d eaten so much before leaving, and he’s sure she could tell he’d just eaten recently, with how warm his cheeks felt they must be rosy. And that flush on his pale skin is clear as day, especially how it slithers down his throat, and if he’s really worked up, it might splotch his chest. 

“When’s the last time you ate, Sweetheart?” He inquired – the icy little tip of her nose was enough to tell him it had been a while.

“Mm, I had some earlier, when I woke up,” she explained, “But I got distracted with work, so I haven’t since.” 

Normally, Harry might chide her for that, but he’s all too excited to offer his throat, “I have a treat for you then,” he placed his hands on her hips, walking her backward, “Get on the couch.” 

Where Y/N used to start on the side of his body and eventually make her way into his lap while she ate, she just crawled into his lap now to cut out the unnecessary jostling around. The weight of her in his lap is familiar, nice, and something he didn’t realize that he missed until he was away from her. She stretches her thighs on either side of him and scoots in very close; Harry is already half hard, and he isn’t sure if he’d been like this since he saw her, or on the plane when he’d even just thought about her. Whatever it was and whenever it was, he was definitely already getting hard just from the anticipation of her teeth in his neck. It felt like young adulthood all over again, when it wasn’t “mind over matter”, and Harry couldn’t help but get hard in three seconds from one thought. 

“I missed you,” she tells him, pressing her chest up against his, her nipples were already hard and Harry felt dizzy with the want burgeoning up from deep in his belly, “So much, and you were only gone for a week. It’s a little embarrassing.” 

“I miss you when I leave you alone for an hour,” he slides his hand on the nape of her neck and brings her closer, “Isn’t embarrassing. I’m flattered that you like me enough to miss me, even. Now take what you need, baby, I ate enough to fill you up.” 

The slide of her teeth into his skin never gets old, especially when it’s his throat. There’s a bite of pain, immediately soothed over by the euphoric feeling of it not only being a vampire bite, but a Y/N bite. The way she goes about it is still so tentative to start, and unsure, like she’s worried about hurting him – but the moment she tastes his blood on her tongue, all that vanishes. She moaned against his neck like she’d been starving for months and he’d finally come to save her, her fingers digging into his body wherever her hands lie. Harry can feel her inhibitions leave her, the way she gulps, drinks him down, and takes her fill how he wants her to. 

It’s always after a minute that Y/N’s body starts to move out of tandem with her. She hates that she starts rutting against him like an overexcited puppy, but that doesn’t stop the way her hips twitch and push closer to him while she’s eating. Harry’s hand slid from her neck, to meet his other at her hips, holding her still as she rolled her hips into him greedily. “Mm, it feels good, doesn’t it, baby? Especially after not having it for so long,” Harry shuddered, closing his eyes as he melted into the feeling, “I bet your pussy is already soaked.” 

Y/N whines, and he can only imagine how debauched the scene must look from an outsider's perspective. Her hands slip under his shirt, fingers tracing along his stomach and when the muscles in his abdomen tense up, his cock throbs to match. Harry’s fully hard now, and he thinks he’s already leaking, dripping into the inside of his trousers because he was always one to forgo underwear when it caused lines in his pants. Y/N lines herself up with him, tucking him into the folds because her pussy just swallows these shorts up, and rolls into him, “That’s it,” he whispered, “Such a good girl, you can have anything you want.”

The times she bites his throat aren’t always for pleasure. Harry still tries to prepare her for the first time she will meet with a feeder, so each time Y/N eats she gets better and better. She’s learned to stop when she’s full and to not overstuff herself just because it tastes good. She also has learned to read the queues of the other person, that she might have had too much – it’d be different for a human, but she can tell by the way Harry might start feeling even a degree less warm than he began as. 

He isn’t sure what coaxes her to stop today. She pulled away from his neck and lulled her tongue over the little puncture wounds in his skin, before moving so she faced him. Y/N made a pretty sight with her hazy eyes and her mouth stained red. Before he could spend too much time admiring her, she fixes her lips against his, slips her tongue into his mouth, and oh fuck. 

She’d kept some of his blood in her mouth, so it filled his own when she kissed him, and his eyes all but rolled up to the back of his head. Who had taught her something so filthy? His cock throbs so hard in his pants and he’s leaking so much precum he’s wondered if he’s cum already – he’s sure it’s sticky and webby beyond belief around the head of his cock, and Y/N isn’t helping the matter, she’s just making it worse. 

Harry takes her by the chin, parts her lips, and makes sure they stay open. Without having to instruct her, she presses the tip of her tongue to her bottom lip, waiting patiently – normally Harry places a couple of fingers on her tongue for her to suck and bite at, so he presumes that’s what she was expecting. But Harry couldn’t help himself, and if Y/N was going to be filthy, then he was going to be filthier, so he encased her tongue and her bottom lip with his mouth and suckled at it. When Y/N mewls, he takes more of her in, sucking the taste of him off her tongue while he pries at her little shorts. He was in no mood for her to get off his lap to wiggle them down, so he tore them, shredding the fabric. 

She makes a startled sound, mixed with a moan when Harry slips his tongue back into her mouth to kiss her properly again. Harry’s head spins when he backs away from her – they could kiss forever without needing to take a single breath (or they would be able to one day when Y/N really didn’t need to use her lungs anymore), but Harry wanted to look at her. Want to see her with lips bitten red and swollen, filled with blood that Harry kind of wants to knick with his tooth and drink from. He presses at her chest just a little so she stretches back, and he gathers the fabric at the bottom of her shirt in between his thumb and index finger, pressing it up her quivering belly. 

Her pussy is puffy and swollen and soaking wet, he would’ve thought she’d been touching herself before he’d come home. He can’t tell if he wants to bury his face or his cock into it more, but another hard throb suggests he’d better do the latter or he would cum hard in his pants. He uses his fingers to spread her open, showing off the engorged bud of her clit, chuckling brightly when it pulses beneath his attention. Harry is unsure what drives him to sink his fingers lower, get three of them wet then return to her clit to slap it, but he does, and the payoff is Y/N trying to close her legs around him with the most wanton of sounds. He does it again, a little harder, and Y/N’s hand comes to grab his wrist, “I’ll cum,” she whines like that was supposed to deter him, “I’ll cum if you keep going.” 

“Isn’t that the point?” He murmured, sliding his fingers through her juices and tucking them up inside of her, petting at her g-spot for a second before slipping them back out and licking her off his hand, “Want you to cum.” 

“I wanna cum with you in me,” she sounded like she was pleading with him, and Harry had always been a sucker for pretty girls begging, “Please?” 

Harry’s quick to work the button of his trousers open, pulling the zip and removing his cock from the oppressive confines of it. He’s harder than he’d even thought, but he was right to assume that he’d leaked so much precum it looked like he’d cum. The clear fluid oozes from the tip in a long, sticky line, filling up the dip of his hip bone. Y/N ogles him with awe-filled eyes, “Whoa,” she swallowed thickly, her fingers tracing up the underside from his balls to the tip, in a move he doesn’t think she means to be as teasing as it is, “You’re really hard.” 

“I know,” he bites down hard on his bottom lip as he throbs again, under her attention, in the coolness of the air. 

“Like, harder than I’ve ever seen you,” she states, and now her palm slides against his shaft, and she squeezes experimentally, looking between him and his cock, “And you’re so wet –” 

“Y/N,” he just barely holds back from whimpering, “No teasing, Darling, I need to fuck this into you or I’ll cum all over myself. You don’t want to waste it, do you?” He inquired, and Y/N shook her head, scooting closer, “Yeah, let me fill you up, Baby, want to watch it fucking drip out of you when we’re done.” 

She visibly shivered again, and Harry helped her lift and slide his cock inside of her. Y/N moans, her face pinches up from the pressure of him against her walls but she slips right on down like he belonged inside of her. Harry thinks Y/N likes the stretch – the burn of it, as long as it doesn’t border on too painful. She bottoms out, her arms wrapped around his neck, and she smushes their lips together. The kiss is brief before she nips at his plush bottom lip and sucks it into her mouth. While she does that, Harry presses his upper lip just above hers, his fingers digging into her thighs as she squeezes around him, accommodating his size. Her walls were velvety soft and smooth as they contract around him, the ridges and bumps something he’s set on memorizing. 

Her ministrations with her mouth go to his chin, she kisses then bites her way down his jaw, to his ear, laving her tongue over the little wounds that were no doubt closing and healing over by now. Harry offers her his hand when he realizes that she must want to bite something, and he’d made the right assumption when she fits his knuckles between her teeth and chews on him. Harry laughs as she starts to lift her hips, then drops back down onto him, “You’re so fucking cute,” he chuckled, “Should we get you a chew toy? A little bone for a puppy like you?” 

“Shut up,” her words are muffled around his fingers in her mouth but she’s riding him well. It feels so fucking good, Harry is holding onto every last bit of strength not to cum before her. A damning feat to accomplish when she finds the angle that hits that bundle of nerves inside of her just right – she clamps down on him, her eyes bead with tears as she fucks down onto him, and nibbles at his fingers. 

“Do you feel good, Baby? S’my cock stretching you out nice?” Y/N nodded, whining, “You can cum for me. Don’t you want that? Cum on me and I’ll fill this little pussy right up.” 

Harry shoves the sweatshirt up so it rests just above her bare tits, or at least enough that he can visualize them and then get one into his mouth. Her nipples are still hard, so pert and sensitive for him when he pulls them between his teeth and lulls his tongue in big circles around them. Harry alternates between sucking hard and flicking his tongue, and Y/N goes from chewing on his knuckles to holding them uselessly in her mouth and moaning around them. Harry feels her start to cum before she can even tell him through these breathy little whines. 

He isn’t ashamed to say he starts cumming before she could finish – he makes sure to work her through it still, fucking through the point of overstimulation, his thumb lulling on her clit when he raised his feet onto the coffee table and started to fuck into her. Harry fills her up, his orgasm splinters through him so intensely that he thinks his vision whites out for a second. He’s throbbing so hard inside of her, he knows she could feel it each time, and in response to each one, she mewls and sighs as she finally starts to come down from her own high. 

Harry untucks his face from her chest just as Y/N drops his fingers from her mouth. He’s still tucked inside of her but his cum slicks out from around where his cock is plugging her up, too much of it to even keep inside. The feeling is a little atrocious as it cools, but the thought of what it must look like almost has him stiffening up again. 

Y/N all but collapsed onto him, and Harry oofs! dramatically, before wrapping her up in his arms. Her arms moved to hug around his waist this time, and she murmured something on his shoulder that he couldn’t quite make out. She turns her head, so her cheek rests against his shoulder instead, “I said I really missed you,” she repeated, “I’m happy you’re back home.” 

A lot of responses run through Harry’s head, including, but not limited to I’m happy you’re here with me, I’m happy you’re in my life, I’m happy my cum is dripping out of you right now, I’m happy that our fates matched in this way, I’m happy that we have a kitten name Leaf, I’m happy our souls are bound together. 

Harry doesn’t though. He thinks them, and he smiles to himself when he replies with something that he’s pretty sure covers all of that. 

“I’m happy too.” 

[familyvideostevie]

steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

__

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[sm-baby]

Most exciting part of the trailer for the next TADC episode for you?

More so an Analysis rather than things I'm excited about X3

I watched the sneak peek on loop I can process everything! Waahh!! I'm so excited for episode 2 💞 only a few weeks away! 💕

I wanna get this out of the way, I love Lizzie Freeman and Alex Rochon's Improv work on this promo 😭 they were really put in a booth together, were told to say things to promote episode two, and came up with that 😭 Genius.

The environment work is GORGEOUS! I love the look of everything, the world-building, the colors! It looks like a full-fledged movie guys! Absolutely beautiful and WONDEROUS work from the Glitch team-- it's so beautiful for half a year of work??? God damn!!

Haha! As an in-universe creation, Despite his little gags, Caine is genuinely such a good AI to make something so cool!

You'll also notice that Ragatha is taking charge of talking with the princess! That would make sense for such fellow beautiful well-mannered women!

More on them later at the end! :3

Dream sequence theory

Also, we all agree that these ones are all part of a dream right? Pomni is panicked, the strange sort of "slow woozy wobbly" animation exactly like a dream... even the dolly zoom!

Then she is sent to the cellar with a an abstracted arm, but that shouldn't be the case since Caine could easily fix an abstracted arm with a snap of a finger.

And then she wakes up, freaked out!!

Wahaha! Shout out to the Showtime server for pointing this out while we were discussing!

This is either and "end of episode prize" from Caine, or he jumps in mid-episode to hand them a helpful item, ooorr he's telling them that that's their objective for the adventure :3

also!! people have pointed out that Zooble isn't with the carriage with the others! Either this means that Zooble was given a surprise roll in the adventure, or she's off to have a fun solo adventure with Caine! Ohh! How exciting!

Zooble is a favorite character of Goose's, so to learn more about him and why Goose loves them so much would be so exciting!!

Whats up with Jax?

hunched down, writing in the sand, hugging his knees, this topped with Goose's two-word description of the next episode to be "I"m nothing"... Oh Jax is gonna have a MOMENT...

We all know that no one likes the dude and he's going to get worse. I'm unsure if this will make me like the guy, but I'm optimistic!

I'm open to understanding and seeing another side of him that would make me like him! I already quite like how this scene is framed, how lonely he looks, the acting in these few seconds already tells me what kind of guy he is.

...despite one of the gummis being tied up in the corner

If i had to hypothesize, this probably stemmed with Jax acting out, you know, the usual "being a nuisance" to make everyone miserable,

Then It escalates

This gets on Ragatha's nerves, first starting out as a silly "haha cute interaction" between them and it escalates while the episode goes on where Ragatha genuinely gets mad at him and tells him to stay put while they do the work.

Speaking of Ragatha, She seems to be quite fond of the Princess! There is a part of me that wonders if she wants to sort of-- "prove" herself in a way, as a leader or otherwise. Ragatha does give me the "smart yet nice kid in class that everyone copies off of" energy... TwT This poor woman.

I don't know, just the way The Princess bends down and holds her hand, it's sort of sweetly mentorly or motherly in a way. I'm not saying this to infantilize Ragatha, I respect her so much as a mature 30-year-old adult, I say it as a testament to The Princesses' character. Princesses, Queens, and any sort of royalty have been characterized as the sort of "mother/father of all" sort of character type, which is sweet! And would be quite interesting!

I know that people are quick to do the shipping with these two, but I kind of like the idea of Ragatha wanting approval and validation.

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY!! A FILM THEORY!!! ANDDD CUT!!

[jgracie]

REMEMBER THAT NIGHT? — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF NYX

masterlist | rules

❝ I was wondering maybe u can write headcanons for percy with nyx daughter!reader where they're literally the same person personality wise and same sense of humor and sarcasm and same interests etc.. ❞ — 🪼

in which percy dates a daughter of nyx

pairing percy jackson x nyx!reader

warnings none!

on the radio . . . remember that night? (sara kays)

Your first proper introduction comes during Capture the Flag. Annabeth, one of the few children of the Olympians you spoke to, had asked you to play on her team

You usually didn’t play, seeing it as a game for the children of the Gods, not a demi-primordial such as yourself. However, after lots of begging (and agreeing to buy you the good chocolate from the outside world), Annabeth convinced you to join in

On the day, she quickly explained the rules to you then pulled you to the side, distress etched on her face as her head whipped around, clearly looking for someone

“Percy, you’re late! You almost ruined my plan,” she said, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him to where you were standing. The boy started rambling something about two hippocampi needing his help with their housing situation, giving the two of you a sheepish look until Annabeth interrupted him

“This is Y/N, daughter of Nyx. You’ll be working with her today,” Annabeth said, “the two of you will be stationed at our flag, which I put near the lake. Y/N, I’m gonna need you to use your powers to blind anyone who comes near our flag so that Percy can use the element of surprise to his advantage and spray them with water. Got it?” Before you could say anything, Annabeth ran off to be with her siblings, leaving you with the flag and Percy Jackson

It was really awkward at first. Percy walked circles around the flag while you played around with your shadow, making it turn into all sorts of shapes

You weren’t keeping track of how long the game had been going on for, but you were bored. You didn’t agree to play Capture the Flag just to stand around the flag with some random guy (even if he was really handsome)

Eventually, you were no longer interested in your shadow and decided to strike up a conversation with Percy, asking him about the hippocampi he mentioned earlier

“Well,” Percy began, cheeks turning pink as he realised how silly his story was, “these two hippocampi broke up, but neither of them wanna move out of the cove they’re living in, so I’ve been trying to find a cove just as nice that’ll hopefully convince one of them to move,” he finished, hoping you wouldn’t think he was weird

To his surprise, you started laughing, “so you’re their divorce attorney?” You managed to ask through fits of giggles, “that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” 

Percy was relieved. He was so worried he’d embarrassed himself in front of a really beautiful girl, but you were actually amused! 

People started showing up for the flag, but the two of you defended it like your life depended on it. You worked your magic, causing the area around the people from the opposite team to turn as black as the night, while Percy sent them away with a wave of water

Soon enough, you heard cheers erupt as Annabeth and everyone else from your team came running towards you with the other team’s flag. After celebrations took place, people started heading back to their cabins and various other activities, leaving you and Percy alone

You began to walk away, missing the comforting darkness of your cabin, when suddenly someone stopped you in your tracks, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder

“Hey, Y/N, I had a lot of fun playing Capture the Flag with you today,” Percy said, “you’re really cool and stuff… and I was wondering if, you know…”

“If we could hang out? Sure, Percy! I had a lot of fun with you too. Come to my cabin tomorrow!” You said, giving him a smile before leaving

Percy sighed. He meant to ask you out on a date.

He still showed up at your cabin. You didn’t specify a time, so he hoped first thing after breakfast was alright

(It was. He could’ve shown up at 3am and you would’ve been fine with it)

You started to get to know each other, realising with every passing minute how incredibly similar you were

Both of you spoke sarcasm like it was a second language, you both enjoyed rock music, skating, basketball, and of course, sea animals. Whatever Percy liked, there was a high chance you liked too, and vice versa (I had to look up Percy’s interests on reddit)

He began showing up at your cabin more often, and then you started showing up at his, and soon enough you became known as one package

You still weren’t dating though. You were both worried the other only saw you as a friend

One day, a half-asleep Percy was making his way to the dining pavilion (is that what it's called?) when he overheard your siblings talking

“She’s so in love with him!” One of them said to the other, giggling. Percy didn’t like to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t help himself. This could be about you, after all

The other nodded enthusiastically, “I think Percy’s in love with her too, they’re both just oblivious about it.” Okay, so it was definitely about you. You’re the only person Percy could ever be in love with

Grinning, he began to plan his confession

In the middle of the night, you heard knocking on the front door of your cabin. Exhausted, you dragged yourself away from the comfort of your bed to go and answer.

You were ready to berate whoever your visitor was, until you discovered it was none other than Percy. With a finger in front of his lips, he took your hand and walked you all to the beach

There, Percy finally deemed it safe for you to talk. He watched as you took in what was in front of you: a midnight picnic consisting of a blue tablecloth and a wide range of blue foods

“Perce, what is this?” You asked, unable to hold back the smile that was making its way onto your lips. This might’ve been the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you

“I wanted to stargaze today, and thought I should bring the expert with me,” he replied as you sat down, opening a bottle of blue coke and handing it to you

You looked up at the sky and marvelled at how clear it was that night, “I love the stars, they’re so pretty. They remind me of home,” you told him, mesmerised by the way they glimmered in your mother’s domain

“They are,” he said wistfully. Turning to him, you found that he had never been looking at the stars to begin with, but at you

According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves

Slowly, you and Percy inched closer and closer together. When you finally kissed, you felt reunited with your other half.

Now that my essay of a backstory is done, we can move onto the dating

You have midnight feasts all the time. Most of the time, you do them at his cabin, since he’s the only one there and you’re less likely to be caught by the harpies, but sometimes you do them at that spot at the beach (it’s been dubbed ‘Percy and Y/N’s spot’ by everyone at camp because Percy’s weirdly territorial over it)

Percy loves spending time at your cabin too. Specifically spending time with your siblings. Being the children of night, you can easily camouflage yourselves within the night and shadows, which means you can eavesdrop on whoever you want

Therefore, your siblings know EVERYTHING and Percy loves hearing about it all

He used to be scared of the dark, as it meant losing an important sense, but you showed him all the beautiful parts of it. Now, the dark feels like a warm blanket reminding him of home (you) <3 

He still has nightmares though, and waking up to a pitch black room after a nightmare isn’t the best feeling, so one day, you help him out

You woke with a start as you felt Percy shift next to you, clearly trying to process the nightmare he just had. Pouting, you felt your heart ache at his pain. He deserved a good night’s rest

You put your hands together and began to make a ball of light, illuminating the room. Now, you could see the unshed tears in Percy's eyes

“What is this?” He asked, reaching his hand out to touch it. You let go, giving it to him

“Your own star, for when I’m not here. It’s like a night-light. You turn it off by tapping it.” Percy let go of the star, opting to hold you instead

Kissing the top of your head, he mumbled “thank you, sweetheart, you’re the best.”

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

Audrey Hepburn (My Fair Lady, Sabrina, Roman Holiday)—I know people nowadays are probably sick of seeing her with all the beauty and fashion merch around that depicts her and/or Marilyn Monroe but she is considered a classic Hollywood beauty for a reason. Ironically in her day she was more of the alternative beauty when compared to many of her contemporaries. She always came off with such elegance and grace, and she was so charming. Apparently she was a delight to work with considering how many of her co-stars had wonderful things to say about her. Outside of her beauty and acting ability she was immensely kind. She helped raise funds for the Dutch resistance during WWII by putting on underground dance performances as well as volunteering at hospitals and other small things to help the resistance. During her Hollywood career and later years she worked with UNICEF a lot. Just an all around beautiful person both inside and out.

We are in the quarterfinals of the Hot & Vintage Movie Women Tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Propaganda is not my own and is on a submission basis. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

"Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist."

Audrey Hepburn:

"She may be a wispy, thin little thing, but when you see that girl, you know you're really in the presence of something. In that league there's only ever been Garbo, and the other Hepburn, and maybe Bergman. It's a rare quality, but boy, do you know when you've found it." - Billy Wilder

Raised money for the resistance in nazi occupied Hungary. Became a humanitarian after retiring. Two very sexy things to do! [editor's note: not Hungary; Audrey was involved with the Dutch resistance. Source.]

"It’s as if she dropped out of the sky into the ’50s, half wood-nymph, half princess, and then disappeared in her golden coach, wearing her glass slippers and leaving no footprints." - Molly Haskell

"All I want for Christmas is to make another movie with Audrey Hepburn." - Cary Grant

where to begin......... i wont her so bad. i literally dont know what to say.

My dude. The big doe eyes, the cheekbones, the voice. The flawless way she carried herself. She was never in a movie where she wasn't drop dead gorgeous. Oh, also the fact she raised funds against the Nazis doing BALLET and she won the Presidential Medal of Freedom for her humanitarian work.

Growing up, Audrey Hepburn desperately wanting to be a professional ballerina, but she was starved during WWII and couldn't pursue her dream due to the effects of malnourishment. After she was cast in Roman Holiday, she skyrocketed to fame, and appeared in classics like My Fair Lady and Breakfast at Tiffany's. She's gorgeous, and mixes humor and class in all of her performances. After the majority of her acting career came to close, she became a UNICEF ambassador.

No one could wear clothes in this era like she could. She was every major designer's favorite star and as such her films are time capsules of high fashion at the time. But beyond that, she had such an elegance in her screen presence that belied a broad range of ability. From a naive princess, to a confused widow, to a loving and mischievous daughter, she could play it all.

Look at that woman's neck. Don't you want to bite it?

[amirasainz]

I admit I read everything with baby Sainz in it.🫢 And as I'm on a Lando bender again. (Loving all things Lando) I was wondering if you could write something with Baby Sainz and Lando about how they got into a fight and the whole grid is there for her and being mean to Lando but like the fight was something really little and silly. (Something like Lando not putting his clothes away)

I hope that makes sense.

Oooppp!!!! That make me so happy to know that people enjoy reading my writing. I hope you guys enjoy reading this as well and let me know if you have any requests. I will do my best to write them ASAP

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Trouble in paradise

There were two things Lando hated dearly: fish and seeing his girlfriend cry. The first one is pretty self-explanatory. For him, fish tasted horrible and looked disgusting. It had a weird consistency and smelled—oh god, don’t get him started on the smell. The second thing, seeing his girlfriend cry, was because a beautiful girl like her should never have to feel any sadness. Her pretty eyes should never fill with tears, making the window to her soul more obvious than ever. Her perfect lips should never tremble, and her voice should never crack. Amira was made for being happy and carefree.

However, this morning, Lando managed to do the worst thing ever. He made his girl cry. And why? Because he is the biggest idiot on earth. The only thing she asked him yesterday was if he could start doing the laundry. Like the lovesick fool he is, he was more enamored with her presence than actually listening to her words. When she wanted to wear her favorite shirt today, which was in the laundry, Lando had to admit that he didn’t do anything. Maybe it was the current heat, her jet lag, her hunger, or the frustration that he didn’t do the simple task she asked him to do, but all of it was too much. And Amira tried to be brave, she really did. But she couldn’t help but let her frustration and sadness out through her tears. When Lando saw his girlfriend crying in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to cry himself. What kind of monster is he, making his perfect girlfriend cry because he was a lazy idiot?

The others around them immediately realized something was wrong when the couple arrived this morning in the paddock. Usually, Lando would have his arm around her shoulders, their hands intertwined, kissing her shamelessly in front of everyone and whispering sweet nothings in her ear. But today, they arrived with only their pinkies intertwined. Despite having a huge fight about something so silly this morning, the couple couldn’t stand not touching one another. If their unusual entrance wasn’t a huge sign that something was wrong, it was Amira’s behavior. Instead of wearing bright, vibrant colors, the young woman wore a black jacket with sunglasses on. Her blue shirt was the only speck of color in her outfit. If even THAT wasn’t a sign that something was amiss between them, it was on their way to the motorhomes. Instead of leading Amira proudly into his side of the garage, he brought her to the Ferrari garage. There, one could see Lando hugging Amira, whose shoulders shook. Without another word, Amira left a heartbroken Lando inside. One might have thought that something terrible had happened to his family, instead of him forgetting to do the laundry…

The news spread like wildfire that Amira and Lando had a fight because Lando couldn’t be trusted to do a simple task. The drivers and WAGs were furious when they heard about what happened. Carlos even went as far as keeping his sister inside his driver’s room, making her sleep and eat something. While Carlos was busy taking care of his precious sister, Lando had the worst day of his life. EVER.

It all started when he ran into Carmen and George. The couple were busy staring daggers at him while he was on his way to the media pen. Lando was so distracted by their glares that he didn’t see Lewis. He bumped straight into the 8-time world champion, who wasn’t very keen on seeing the young Brit. “Oh, sorry Lewis. I didn’t mean to bump into you,” Lando apologized. Lewis looked him up and down before muttering, “Seems like you never mean to do something.” Before Lando had a chance to ask what he meant, Lewis turned around and walked away.

A confused Lando continued walking to the media pen. During the conference, he was asked about his outfit ( new Quadrant merch) when Max muttered loud enough for the microphones to pick up: “Must be nice to have clothes you can wear because you can rely on your partner.” The atmosphere in the room became strained in a matter of seconds. The reporter awkwardly tried to move on. Lando wasn’t stupid; he knew what this was. This was his punishment for upsetting the paddock princess.

After a 40-minute-long speech from Lily and Kika about how important giving and taking in a healthy relationship was, Fernando calling him “El mayor idiota que ha existido en la tierra,” Charles letting Leo bite him, Lily and Oscar giving him the biggest side-eye ever throughout the day, Yuki “accidentally” pushing him into a wall, and Pierre starting gossip about him, he finally went to Carlos’s driver’s room.

He gently knocked on the door, wishing it would be his girl opening it. Sadly, today was truly not his day, because he was met with the sight of an angry Carlos. Before Lando had the chance to say anything, Carlos brought him closer. He whispered quietly in Lando’s ear: “If Amira wasn’t so damn much in love with you, you would already be under the earth. I know where you live, I know your password, I know your deepest secrets. If you ever, and I mean ever, in your entire life make my sister cry again, it will be the last thing you’ll ever do. ¿He sido claro?” Carlos only let poor Lando go after he swore to never do something stupid like that again. “Good, now you will go inside, apologize to Amira, and buy her a new freaking Birkin bag. Did I make myself clear?” Carlos sternly asked.

Safe to say that Lando did a lot of groveling that day. It took the drivers and WAGs 5 months, 1 week, 28 days, and 17 hours to stop with the “Lando-fuck-up” jokes. And Amira? She never had to wonder about a thing again; they now had a housemaid, Aurelia, who only adored Amira and not Lando.

[m0nsterqzzz]

word count: 3k

- Liar Liar - 

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack. 

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives. 

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

 All is fair in love and music though.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

[fiendishfables]

Hiii cookie bookie pookie bear, I was wondering if you could write for my short king again (lucifer)! Babyboy is short but how will he be with a gf/wife that is shorter than him! Rahh so cute ♡

Lucifer x Shorter S/O! Fem! Reader

Headcanons

warnings: fluff, short people jokes, Lucifer being an emotional dork and lover

words: 664

a/n: sorry for the lack of fics, I've been super busy and have had no motivation recently! Thanks for 300+ followers, I love y'all!

First of all, it's very rare that Lucifer finds anyone shorter than himself, so you'll have to excuse the literal squeal of excitement he emits the moment he sees you

When you first mention your romantic feelings for him, he had a field day

Someone like yourself, being so beautiful AND short, liking HIM?

He swore it was like being back up in Heaven again

Definitely never misses a chance to make a short joke, despite his own height misfortunes

The internet aided him in coming up with originals

"Hey, how's the weather down there?"

"My golly, it really is the little things in life that matter, isn't it darling?

You have attempted to bite his ankles a few times

Don't worry, if his jokes somehow ends up hurting your feelings, he will be quick to apologize and coddle you for the rest of the day

He is usually very ecstatic whenever you ask him to get anything for you off of a high perch; his chest literally swells with pride that he finally has someone who can come to him for that sort of stuff

"Oh, that old thing up there? No worries, my love. Step aside, step aside now."

Ends up having to get the kitchen stool

But by then, more often than not, it ends up with neither of you being able to reach it, not even with the help of his cane or the stool

Results in him having to get either his daughter, or the spider pornstar he usually tried to avoid if possible (mainly result of his intimidations due to his height, but he was a friend of Charlies)

He will physically deflate if he can't fulfill a need/request you have for him; it crushes his spirit

Likes to put his arm on your head whenever he stands next to you

Its a symbol of both his affection for you and his desire to playfully irritate you

Says you make a good armrest

He only got the satisfaction of saying it once though, because you kicked him harshly in the shin after

He thinks you are just the cutest thing when you're mad; he likes seeing you yell at other people, especially Alastor

But if you yell at him instead during these times, he will go wrap himself up in a blanket and have a breakdown on his own time

You wont see him for a good hour or two; he's off sobbing in some random corner

Eventually he will resurface and request your attention, which you gladly provide him with, apologizing and telling him your words were only humor based and not meant to be taken to heart

Lucifer is already such a sensitive soul, he claims you are turning him to mush by just being the cutest thing to ever behold him

He can't fathom the idea of ever making his precious lady mad at him

Loves getting you funny t-shirts and stuff that have short people jokes on them

Almost always insists on being the big spoon when the two of you cuddle

He's finally taller than someone for once in his life, okay?

He gets the chance to feel like he is effectively protecting someone, this time by covering them with his body like a shield; this has never happened before

Let him have this one victory; he feels accomplished, the poor baby

No one can deny that he has tons of fun with you, as he now gets to be the one who feels all high and mighty

Your height is an ongoing topic throughout the relationship

He often forgets that he himself still only stands just above five feet

He once even tried to fight Alastor because you genuinely make him feel like he's a 7ft giant

Safe to say he came back to you with his tail between his legs, feelings hurt, and still a whopping 5,2

But with you, he may as well have been standing on top of the world

[hvaneyflowers]

First love... and the only. ***********

Lewis Hamilton x femreader! single mother!

You took your little son to meet Santa Claus and accidentally ran into your ex-boyfriend, Lewis Hamilton.

You and Lewis were together for three months during your high school time. You broke up after he started to get more serious with his racing career, and you decided that it didn't go with the lifestyle you had planned for you.

So you went to college and met a new guy, while he became a seven-time world champion. You got married and had a beautiful son, but your husband cheated on you with his secretary and left without saying goodbye. So now, you were a single mother of a toddler named Lucas. You were happy with your life. Being a mother was the best thing that had happened to you, but, deep inside you still miss Lewis. Every time you see him in the news you wonder how life would have become if you two were still together. Maybe you'd have the family you always dreamed about.

Little did you know, was that Lewis still misses you, too. He was engaged to his girlfriend of 7 seven years, Nicole, but never found the same happiness as he had when he was with you. He always thought about you and what had been life for you. He found your Instagram and found that you had a son, so you must be married. It hurt to see you with another man, but he knew he couldn't complain because it was you who decided to put a stop to your relationship.

Indeed, it was you who broke up with him. You were young and you were scared of the life he had planned for him. Becoming an F1 driver and a world champion. It sounded fantastic a first, but you immediately realized that it wasn't for you. Or that was what you wanted to think. You were scared of the fame he would have. All the people around you didn't stop telling you how he would cheat and leave you for a supermodel, or how he would be at parties every weekend and fall out of love with you. You didn't want to get hurt so you decided to break up with him.

Now you were with your little one waiting to meet Santa at the same place where Lewis was doing his Christmas shopping with the dog that would catch your son's attention.

******

yourusername

liked by 5.000

yourusername: we met Santa! 🎅

comments were disabled.

*******

"Come on, my love. We're going for a piece of chocolate cake!" you told your little son.

"Pup!" your one-year-old screamed enthusiastically as he saw a dog walking near him. He let go of your hand and ran fast to the dog.

"Lucas! What have I told you? Never let go of mommy's hand when we are outside with a lot of people." you scolded him, putting on your knees to be his height.

"sowee, mommy. But pup!" he said pointing to the dog again.

"Be good to him, okay?" you warned him.

"y/n? y/n l/n?" someone asked behind you.

You frowned your eyebrows as you listened to your name. That voice. You could swear you've heard that voice somewhere. Maybe on TV or the radio. But who was its owner? You turned around slowly only to find your high school sweetheart. Lewis Hamilton.

"Lewis," you whispered in shock.

In front of you was the seven-time world champion of Formula 1, Lewis Hamilton, or as you used to call him, "my love". He looked just as surprised as you. You had never seen each other again since your graduation more than 15 years ago. He looked so handsome. Age has been good to him.

"Pup!" your son's voice got you out of your thoughts.

"His name is Roscoe. Roscoe, say "hi" to our new friend," he kneeled down, petting his dog.

"Say "hi" to Roscoe, Lucas. Be gentle, baby," you told your son, doing the same as Lewis.

Lewis looked at you as you were speaking to your little son. You looked as beautiful as you were the last time he saw you 15 years ago. He was still in love with you. He quickly took a look at your hand. You weren't wearing a marriage band, so you must be single. Maybe he can try to be with you once again. He won't let you go again. Not this time.

"Do you want to drink coffee with me?" he asked you without warning.

You looked at him in disbelief. You wanted to cry. Memories came through your mind, remembering how much you still loved him.

"Yes!" your son answered, running to Lewis. He laughed and hugged him.

"Do you want some hot chocolate, buddy?" he asked him.

"Yep" the little kid answered.

"And you, y/n?" he asked you. You looked him in his eyes, and you could swear he was almost begging with them.

"Yes, I would like it." you finally answered with a little smile.

"Fantastic! For the good old times." he smiled.

You went to a cafe outside the mall. Lucas was so happy to be there with Roscoe. They were best friends already. You sat in front of Lewis. You were nervous, like when you were a teenager on your first date.

"And... How are you? Long time no see." you broke the ice.

"Good. Everything's been good," he said.

"That's fantastic." You smiled.

"And you? You're a mother now. That's wonderful," he smiled, pointing to the toddler hugging his dog. Poor dog, you thought.

"Yes. His name is Lucas, and he's almost two. The best thing that could have happened to me. He's everything to me. My true love," you smiled, seeing your son.

"He's so cute, and I believe you're an amazing mother." he smiled at you.

"Thank you. I try my best." you laughed a little. You had missed this the most. The softness of being around him. His smile and laugh. God, you miss him a lot.

"And your husband?" he asked. Your smile faded down.

"I'm divorced. He left me for another girl. Much younger than me. We filled up the papers, and he left. He never came back, and Lucas doesn't know him and doesn't have his last name. It's only me and him." you told him staring at your coffee mug.

"He sounds like a jerk," he said, a little angry.

"He is," you laughed.

"I miss you," he confessed after a short silence.

You looked at him in surprise. He misses you like you miss him. Your eyes were full of tears. You wanted to cry. So many emotions and memories.

"Don't cry. I didn't tell you that for you to cry. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. My fault." he tried to calm you down.

"It's not that. I just... I miss you, too. A lot." you confessed.

He smiled, and so did you. He rubbed your cheek with his hands and leaned to kiss you. You kiss slowly, not wanting to waste any feeling of it. You both had waited for that moment for so long. It felt unreal. When you pulled apart, your son was looking at you with curious eyes.

"Mommy?" he asked you.

"Hi, baby," you laughed at his cute angry face.

"Did you like your hot chocolate, buddy?" Lewis asked.

"No buddy," your son said, without looking at him.

You both laughed at your little son and spent the rest of the day talking about each other, enjoying your company. In the next few days, you were still in contact, and Lewis invited you and Lucas to spend Christmas with him. An invitation you didn't reject.

lewishamilton

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and 500.000 more.

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: Roscoe made a new friend at the mall, and I found the love of my life. Meet my first love and the only one, y/n. Love you, babe!❤️

view all 400 comments.

username2: WHAT?!

username8: DID YOU HAVE A KID AND DIDN'T TELL US?!

username0: I think that is his new girlfriend's kid.

username9: Roscoe looking good as always!

username3: Congrats! She's so beautiful. Sending love!

georgerussell63: I HAVE A BABY BROTHER!

landonorris: you meant Roscoe has a baby brother. You're more like an uncle. georgerussell63: I'm not so old! mickschumacher: if we're talking about ages, well, we should mention Fernando. He's the oldest. landonorris: Omg, yes! He gives vibes of being the grandfather! georgerussell63: So it's like this: Me: the (favorite) uncle. Lando: the second uncle. Mick: the third uncle. Fernando and Toto: the grandparents. I like it. landonorris: me too. mickschumacher: 👍 fernandoalo_oficial: what?

username83: LEWIS IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE! I REPEAT: LEWIS HAMILTON IS NOT SINGLE ANYMORE!

username98: she's so beautiful! Congrats! I hope you're very happy with her!

username76: YOU'RE A DADDY NOW!

username4: that kid doesn't know who he has as a stepdaddy. SO LUCKY!

yourusername: ❤️

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, roscoelovescoco, and 1.000 more.

tagged: lewis hamilton

yourusername: I've always loved you❤️

lewis hamilton: ❤️

Comments were limited on this post.

[dumbseee]

gentleman.

in which nothing is easy for a woman in a "man’s world."

carlos sainz jr x journalist!reader.

fc: danna paola.

note: inspired by this. sorry for the typos and mistakes :(

liked by lissiemackintosh, lilymhe, charlottesiine and 109 000 others.

y/n: living lil y/n’s dream ☁️

_

charlottesiine: missing you love!

liked by y/n.

lissiemackintosh: you’re going to kill it y/n!

liked by y/n.

fan1: i want to be her so bad

fan2: she’s living my dream

fan3: so beautiful!

fan4: good luck y/n!

fan5: what does she knows about f1?

fan6: another clout chaser… i wonder which driver will be her first victim🤣

view all comments.

_

"hi carlos! first of all, congrats on p3, you did amazing!" you smiled, your mic in hand, shaking a little and trying to stay composed as carlos stood in front of you. he smiled at you, and you swore that you could faint right now. but you had to stay professional. "thank you…?" he said so you could tell him your name. "y/n l/n, it’s my first day." you smiled again and he smiled back, handing out his hand, that you obviously shook. "i have a question for you before letting you rest, how are you going to prioritise or how is it going to work with you to test everything, do you think it will be a game changer or not?" you asked, handing him the mic, he took it and started thinking. "good question! you have great questions y/n." carlos answered first before getting cut by someone behind you. "ha! mate, if you want her in your bed, no need to lie to her." another journalist said, and you could feel your heart fall in your stomach.

you knew that kind of thing was going to happen to you during your career. because it was well known that formula one was a man’s world and women had no business in it. you took a step back and bit your lower lip to stop the tears from falling. you knew you were qualified, you knew that you worked hard for it, it was your dream! but you felt utterly disrespected and embarrassed, you couldn’t even look at carlos anymore as you tried to back up to leave. but carlos wasn’t having that, he grabbed the mic you were still holding, which surprised you and pulled you back where you were previously standing. you looked up at him and was surprised to see how pissed he looked, his warm eyes were now cold and dark, his jaw clenched and his hand flexed against the mic which showed his veins.

"how dare you call yourself a man and talk to a woman like that?" he called out, the journalist turned bright red and struggled to find his words. "she heard the disgusting words you had to say about her and it hurt her, so you better apologise right now, and loud enough for the entire paddock to hear you." the man mumbled some apologies before running away, pushing some people out of his way which made the others people surrounding you laugh. carlos looked at you and smiled, putting his hand on your shoulder. "you have a bright future ahead of you, y/n. i’m looking forward to your interview in silverstone." he winked and finally disappeared, leaving you blushing and completely lost.

carlos sainz was definitely a gentleman.

liked by charles_leclerc, charlottesiine, lissiemackintoch and 890 009 others.

carlossainz55: amazing race for us! another podium for me and charles, thanks for the support guys! we must stay focus for the next race!

_

charles_leclerc: well said!

scuderiaferrari: proud of you boys!

fan1: YAAAAAAY

fan2: p2 and p3 for ferrari, i used to pray for times like this

fan3: who’s the girl on the fourth pic?

fan4: @.fan3 a random journalist

fan5: @.fan4 idk about random tho, that’s y/n l/n, the journalist carlos stood up for in autria

fan6: is that y/n l/n??

view all comments.

_

"congrats on p2 carlos!" you said with a big smile, you weren’t pointing a mic at him, you were actually heading back to your car when you bumped into the ferrari driver. he looked surprised to see you, but smiled back. "y/n! i was expecting you during the post-race interviews, where were you?" he asked, he was still wearing his race suit, tied up to his waist which had to be the sexiest sight you’ve ever witnessed. "i was feeling sick so i asked lissie to do them for me. i watched you- i mean, i watched you and max and charles of course!" you added, flustered and suddenly turning bright red. carlos laughed and patted your head which made your heart skip a beat. "haha! don’t worry cariño, i hope you’re feeling better, i need you to be there to interview me when i finally get to be p1." you smiled and nodded. "i promise to be healthy to interview you!" carlos smiled at you before walking to his car, you watched him leave and felt your cheeks getting hot when he turned around to wave at you before hopping in his ferrari.

carlos sainz was successfully playing with your heartstrings.

liked by lissiemackintosh, charlottesiine, carlossainz55 and 345 010 others.

y/n: happiness is a butterfly.

_

comments have been disabled.