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neptuneiris · 1 year

Text

cardigan (02/03)

tried to change the ending, Peter losing Wendy.

pairing: modern!aemond × best friend reader!

summary: being in love with your best friend since high school becomes a strong and unavoidable feeling. until it starts to become more difficult when you get to college and the two of you, especially him, meet new people.

word count: 8.4k

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As you're looking down at yourself, making sure there's nothing out of place, you just hear the loud sound of Sara inhaling deeply which makes you startle and you watch her quickly in panic.

hello! i just want to say that i can't believe how much you guys loved the first part. the story just exploded hehe. I'm so grateful for that, for your support and your opinions, I didn't think it would happen so soon, thank you very much.

i wanted to give you part two after such a quick acknowledgement and support, truly thank you so much and also let me know what you think of this second part please, i love reading and responding to you. enjoy!

"You like this one?"

"What?"

"No fucking way, Y/N! You look amazing!"

And at that moment you can feel the color come back to your face and you calm down.

"Come here!" she asks you excitedly, "I want to take a closer look."

You stand in front of her and turn on your own axis to get a better look at yourself in the large full-length mirror, instantly liking what you see.

Last year your dress for the Targaryen ball was red. And you don't usually repeat colors. So now you've chosen a deep ocean blue dress.

Which is Aemond's favorite color.

"This is the one, definitely."

"Really?" you put your hair behind your shoulders, watching you carefully, "Is this one better than the last one?"

"In my opinion the style is better."

You've tried on dresses of the same color in different styles before and honestly… you liked this one better than the others.

It's a long dress open at an angle exposing your left leg. It has no neckline, is strapless and shimmers in a metallic shade beautifully.

This is it.

You think definitely more convinced than ever as you look in the mirror after a few more inspections. You'll shine brighter with your hair and makeup done, you know it and you know you'll look beautiful. That's why you can't wait for the day to come.

You can't wait for Aemond to see you.

"And why did you choose this color?"

"Because it's Aemond's favorite color and it will match his sapphire."

"Oh yes," says Sara in a reminiscent tone, "I had forgotten that detail about your best friend."

"His sapphire eye?"

"Yes."

"But if that's precisely why everyone at the university knows him."

"They also know him for his hair and for apparently having come from the very palace of the Greek gods, don't forget," she says, also amused.

You let out a small laugh.

"Yeah, it's true."

After a little silence between the two of them where they inspect the dress, Sara stirs a little and seems to fight against herself to say what she wants to say. Until she grimaces and nerves invade her as she speaks.

"Listen Y/N…" she says cautiously, "It's not that I want to be nosy or anything, in fact I don't like to know people's things about things like…" she bites the inside of her cheek "That seem very delicate" she says finally "And it's that I'm very curious, I—

"You're a gossip, Sara," you remind him in an amused tone, interrupting her.

"Well… yeah, it's true, who am I kidding," she nods in acknowledgment, shrugging her shoulders and you laugh.

"You want to know what happened to Aemond's eye?"

"Yes," she murmurs, almost embarrassed, "But it's just out of curiosity and if it's something very personal then I understand."

You take a long breath and look away from the mirror to observe her.

"Yes, it's very personal," you tell her, "I can only tell you that it was a horrible accident that happened to him as a kid. He still finds it a little difficult to talk about it, even with his mother and sister."

"Yes, of course," Sara nods sympathetically, "In fact something like that I had imagined."

You nod too, sympathetically, thinking about it.

"At first, when I met Aemond in high school and we started our friendship, he didn't want to tell me," you confess, "It's not as if I insisted on the matter, of course not... but he knew I was curious about it. And it wasn't until after he was sure that I wasn't a fake friend, as I was with him, that we both confided a lot of things to each other until he told me about his accident."

"How old was he?" she ask attentively and curiously.

"Barely ten."

Sara raises her eyebrows in surprise with a face of pity.

"Ten?" she repeats in a murmur, "Wow. I can't even imagine. It must have been pretty awful, huh?"

"It was," you assure her.

You know Aemond has only told about what happened to you and a guy who was his best friend in high school, who now that guy got into another college in another state.

And what happened was that Aemond defended his little nephew, Luke, from some boys who were picking on him and wanting to almost beat him up at school.

But the blows went to Aemond who had to defend himself as best he could against four boys even a little bigger than he was at the time.

Then one of the boys did not measure his strength, hit him and pushed him too, and because of the push Aemond fell on top of a net of wires that made up a small garden in the huge backyard of the school.

They didn't even let him get up, so Aemond also hurt some parts of his body.

And out of desperation, before he could try to do anything, another one of the boys hit him in the face and that's when a piece of wire ripped his eye as he turned his head towards the wires from the blow.

When Aemond was telling you everything, you didn't even know what to say.

And the best punishment the bully boys could have received was to have been expelled. But it wasn't enough for Aemond and his family. They had taken his eye and that was 'justice'.

Luckily his whole family supported him and was there for him through the whole difficult process of doctors appointments, therapies, medications and so on.

His uncle Daemon especially made sure he received the best possible treatment with the best doctors and nurses while his older sister, Rhaenyra, searched for solutions to his lost eye along with his mother.

"And why does he have that sapphire? Didn't he think about a prosthesis or something like that?"

"As a kid, all he wanted was to recover and cope with the physical and emotional pain, and also to get used to his only right sight," you explain, "And then he told me he was thinking about it, but it's been a long time. Maybe he has already got used to the sapphire."

"And it doesn't hurt him?" asks Sara curiously, thoughtfully.

"No, he always has his appointments with the ophthalmologist," you let her know, "I guess the sapphire is to maintain an appearance. Kind of like what rich people do."

"Oh, of course," Sara nods with more understanding, "It makes perfect sense vonsidering how exaggeratedly rich he and his family are."

You let out a small laugh, turning to look at yourself in the mirror at the beautiful dress.

"Yes, they are," you murmur, "Are you sure your aunt will let me pay her weekly?" you ask, looking at her again a little worried.

"I already told you yes, Y/N. Stop worrying," she says amused.

"But she already knows?" you ask distrustful.

"Yes, she knows," she assures you for the eighth time, "She just said that by the time you decide to stop paying for it for one reason or another, there is no refund and you have to return the dress. And if you tear it, stain it or something, you pay extra."

"Oh, I'm not worried about that," you make a nonchalant gesture, "I'm definitely going to finish paying for it."

You think about how the dress is so beautiful that it doesn't deserve to be worn for just one occasion. You can wear it to another event, not necessarily just the ball.

And after you've picked out the last dress, you both leave the dressing room, secure everything for payment, and Sara takes you home and you both say goodbye saying you will see each other tomorrow in class.

When you arrive at the apartment, only Vhagar greets you, to which you assume that Aemond must still be in class or with his girlfriend.

So you decide to take Vhagar with you to your room to do some homework and wait for Aemond to arrive to have dinner together.

And by the time you finally hear his arrival at the apartment, you take Vhagar in your arms and leave your room to ask him how his day was and what he wants for dinner tonight to see if it matches what you want.

But the words get stuck in your throat the moment you see him and your eyes meet his, watching him in shock, definitely not expecting this.

And at your reaction of saying nothing and continuing to stare at him in disbelief, he lets out a small laugh as he runs a hand through his neck and hair.

"What do you think?"

And that's when you seem to remember how to talk.

"No way," you mutter, "Are you fucking kidding?"

"As I understand it, your head can't grow, Y/N. At least not at this age," he tells you amused.

"Shit," you say still in disbelief, "It looks fucking amazing, Aemond!" you finally react with a huge smile.

He has cut his hair.

His fucking long hair is now short and he looks so ridiculously good, like it's not an everyday thing, as well as he looks even better than before and even... sexy.

And in an instant you're all over him, running your fingers through now his short, silky, still straight hair with some waves at the ends that now point slightly upwards.

Even his face, his figure, his sapphire, everything about him looks better than before just because of a haircut.

"Why didn't you tell me?" you ask, still surprised and puzzled, with a small smile.

"I wanted it to be a surprise," he says with a smile, "What do you say, do you really like it?"

"I love it," you confess, "Even you, everything about you—

You stop, not wanting to look nervous, not wanting to insinuate your true feelings for him through his new appearance.

That's why you think very well what you will say before you speak, controlling yourself not to say anything too much.

"Well... it looks better," you finally say.

"Thank you, pretty one."

He smiles at you and you melt at the sight of his expression, simply because of the gesture accompanied by his new cut, so you couldn't be more ridiculous, but you can't help it either.

You find it so attractive and so striking the way you watch his dimples form and look, even they so damn good, again, because of his new haircut.

"I hope Alys likes it too."

You bite your lips, not wanting to focus on his comment at the mention of his girlfriend.

"And why did you decide to cut it?" you ask not to talk about her, acting nonchalant but still feeling surprised.

"I thought it would be a good idea to cut it for the ball," he confesses, "It's this weekend and I thought I'd do it now because I knew I wouldn't do it later."

You both laugh, as that is very Aemond Targaryen and you both know it.

"Well, I'm glad to hear that," you say with a small smile, "I've got everything ready for the ball too."

"Oh really?" he raises his eyebrows, interested, "Now what color dress did you choose?"

"Nope. No details."

You turn away from him in an instant and head to the fridge to finally make dinner, because you know if he keeps looking at you and talking like that, you'll end up showing him everything.

"Oh come on, Y/N."

"I'm so sorry but you'll have to wait for the day."

"Are you serious?" he asks you.

"Even your new haircut isn't going to convince me."

"Hmm."

He certainly says with a disappointed tone and you let out a laugh.

"Be patient, Aemond. Now..." You look at him, "What do you want for dinner?"

You and Aemond talk about what his mother has told him she has planned this time for the ball with his sister Rhaenyra while you prepare dinner and listen to him at the same time. And when everything is ready, you both watch a movie in the living room.

And the next morning, Aemond Targaryen with his new haircut is all you hear about even among all the girls in your apartment. Even something as simple as a haircut drives them all crazy. Even you.

But that it's already a real topic of conversation is amazing.

And the next few days are really stressful for you, also for Aemond, as you have to push your respective careers forward with homework and projects.

In fact the week is so busy that you barely have time for breakfast in the morning as you have to rush to the university. Aemond also told you that he was very busy with the same thing.

But it's worth it.

You tell yourself even in every break that you actually make use of to continue doing more homework.

And for you there is no better motivation than knowing that by the time the week is over, you will finally be free and the ball will be a great way to finally relax and have fun with your best friend.

And you honestly can't wait.

However, you were not prepared to hear what Aemond says to you the day before the ball when you arrive at the apartment and he is already there, apparently waiting for your arrival.

And you knew it wouldn't be good what he would say to you the moment you see the sadness, worry and sorrow in his eyes as he watches you.

"My family wants to meet Alys."

He tells you and then says nothing for a few more seconds, looking away from you, running a hand through his hair, frustrated, to which you already know what he will probably tell you.

"And I couldn't think of any better occasion than to take her with me to the ball so everyone can meet her."

And her words stab like a dagger into your heart, shattering it into little pieces.

And he speaks to you so softly, so carefully and so sorrowfully at the same time while you want to believe it's a damn joke and he's really not doing this to you.

"I'm so sorry, my pretty one," he looks at you with all the anguish in his eyes for your reaction, worried, "Could you do me this favor, just this once, please?"

Do him the favor?

You repeat in your mind, just watching him without really having any expression in your look, because you don't want to make him see that he has broken you with this news and this suddenly change of plans.

And his next words only make you feel worse for your lack of response, with him wanting to make the situation better, as if it were possible.

"You could still come, you know. I'll be with Alys, but Helaena or Aegon can keep you company and eventually I'll try to be around you as well."

"I'm not taking Alys."

He had said.

"This ball belongs to both of us, it always has. And I'm not going to break the tradition."

He had promised you.

And you say to yourself: he is asking you this as a favor. It's just a ball and it's only fair that his escort should be his girlfriend. Don't bother, you shouldn't bother.

"I know you had everything ready and I know I shouldn't be telling you this a day early."

He continues saying to you with sorrow, and then he goes to you in a desperate action and takes your hands in his.

"But I promise you that I will make it up to you, I will—

Unable to stand it any longer, you take your hands from his, which makes him stop and look at you instantly, a little surprised and worried by your reaction.

And you again... you act unconcerned and like it's no big deal.

Mostly because you no longer want to keep listening to his promises that are worthless in the end, you also don't want to be around him right now and also because you want to end the matter once and for all.

"Okay, I understand."

You tell him with the best look you can put at that moment, really trying to pretend that everything is fine, almost convincing him, almost.

"Don't worry."

And without waiting for anything else, because you really want to get away from him, feeling that if he tells you something else you're really going to burst into tears right then and there, you walk past him and head to your room.

But he doesn't let you go so easily.

"Y/N..." He holds you by the shoulders, looking at you worriedly, "Talk to me, please."

You let out a small laugh, the fakest laugh you've ever let out, trying with all your might to make it okay.

"What do you want me to say? I told you it's okay."

Again you try to pass by him but he again stops you. And you let him.

You let him because you don't want him to see you bad, broken. You let him because if you get upset, if you let him see that he has broken you, you fear he will realize your true feelings.

And you don't want that now that he has a girlfriend and looks happy with her. So happy that she even managed to change his mind about taking her to the ball even though he told you he wouldn't because that ball belonged to the two of you.

And you don't want to ruin that for him if that's what he wants, you also don't want to make a big deal about the change of plans. You want to make him see that you're okay with it.

Again...you don't want to look sad and broken in front of him.

"I know you, Y/N," he says to you in a sad, apologetic soft voice, "I know you're not okay with me wanting to take her now because I told you I wouldn't, that this ball belongs to both of us," he lets out a long breath, "But I—

"I'm perfectly fine with it, Aemond," you interrupt him with the most nonchalant and fake look possible, "I mean... she's your girlfriend and it's only fair that you take her, right?"

And your words don't know why they make her feel worse when that's just what she needed from you: understanding.

But somehow it feels a hell of a lot worse that you're understanding him after he knows he promised you he wouldn't take her and you'd both go together.

"But you—

"Look... actually this is good," you lie, "Now I have a lot of homework to finish and also a big project due on monday. The weekend will help me to get everything done and delivered on time."

That's what you assure him even though this whole week you had worn yourself out getting everything ahead of schedule for next week so you could go to the ball and have fun without any more worries.

"Are you..." He looks at you suspiciously, "Are you sure?"

"Very," you say, putting on a small fake smile, "Now I just want to rest before I do everything."

He watches you for a few seconds with the softest and gentlest expression possible, still a little worried, while you watch him firmly back to show him that it's okay.

Even though it hurts like hell all this is happening.

"Well," he murmurs, looking away from you, nodding slightly, "Would you like me to make some dinner for the two of us? I can...

"No thanks," you cut him off, "I want to sleep, that's all."

And finally, carrying all your dignity with you, you head to your room, pretending that everything is fine and that you are fine.

But as you close the door to your room behind you, that's when all the appearance finally goes away and you allow yourself to really feel the way you feel.

And it makes it worse to see the beautiful dress on your bed, looking so spectacular, so ready to be worn, when you will no longer need it for the main occasion you decided to buy it and wanted to wear it for so badly.

Looking at it with longing and sadness, the first tears fall down your cheeks and you avoid letting out a sob as you bite your lips.

You would have preferred that Aemond told you about taking his girlfriend that day when you went to get the dress and then he came home with his new haircut. It would have been more preferable to telling you the day before the ball.

Either way, though, you know it would have destroyed you, just the same way you feel destroyed now.

That's why the next morning, you don't even leave your room. You don't want to and can't see Aemond knowing that today is the day it was supposed to be the two of you.

So you only leave your room when you make sure Aemond is in his room to grab something from the fridge and get back to your cave as quickly as possible.

Until the time of the ball gets closer and closer and you make sure your desk is full of sheets of your previous projects, pretending to be busy as you had told Aemond you would be.

Even his sister, Helaena, sends you an excited message asking if you will come tonight and with all the pain in your heart, you reply that you will not be able to come as you are too busy with homework and projects.

When Aemond knocks on your bedroom door and calls you from the other side. You quickly go to your desk, pretend to be busy with the sheets, tell him to come in and he does.

"I'm leaving now, pretty one."

"Okay, have fun," you say in the best possible tone, without looking at him.

You really don't want to look at him.

"I will probably come here to sleep, I don't think I'll stay anywhere else, just to let you know," he says in a soft and cautious tone, still a little worried about yesterday.

"Yeah, that's fine."

A few seconds of silence and then you hear him let out a sigh.

"Are you sure you don't want to come? You know Helaena and my brothers will be there. I can wait for you to leave."

You bite the inside of your cheek, annoyed that he's suggesting this again, when you shouldn't be.

You know he means well, but it bothers you, it hurts you. How does he think you'll want to go to the ball after changing your plans?

"I have a lot to do," you answer briefly.

And again you hear another one of his sighs.

"Okay," he murmurs.

But he doesn't leave immediately, you hear how he is still at your door and you feel his penetrating gaze, as if he is asking you for forgiveness, but you don't even look at him.

You can't and you don't want to.

You think that if he tries to talk about it again, you'll tell him how busy you are so he won't do it.

But fortunately you only hear him let out a long breath and finally close the door to your room. And the next thing you hear are his footsteps and then the apartment door opening and closing.

The next few days after what happened between you and Aemond at the ball are again like you didn't want them to be.

But it seems that the ball was an important point that broke between you and Aemond and again he and you don't spend time together anymore. It's only in the mornings when you both see each other for breakfast, but there isn't even a conversation for the time being.

There are no more movie weekends, no more going to a restaurant for breakfast on some weekends, and no more going to the grocery store together.

However, the agreement remains that he takes care of everything financially and you take care of the food, laundry and cleaning.

Still, it's as if you live alone.

Suddenly Aemond stopped coming to the apartment less and less, as well as he has stopped sleeping here constantly anymore.

Sometimes there are not even any more of his clothes to wash, mostly because they are still clean or because he takes them away or has left them somewhere else, with Alys obviously.

All the food is finished by you since he barely eats breakfast or dinner here. And the few times you've gotten to talk, there's been no mention of the ball at all.

And you can tell, as he also shows, that he seems to be very busy with his classes and also with his girlfriend.

He still pay for the electricity, water and everything you need, you know he does, but he's not even here. Now it's like you totally take care of Vhagar, which you don't complain about, but she's supposed to be his dog because you gave her to him.

And even though things are tense between you, you still can't help but feel sad and lonely every time you realize that he didn't even get to sleep and on weekends you're all alone.

Whenever you text him asking where he is or why he didn't get to sleep, he always replies the same thing: Alys. He apologizes for not telling you but still never tells you.

Now you sleep in the apartment all alone, with only Vhagar's company every day. And even though it hurt you a lot about the ball, you still miss your best friend very much.

You missed him the most especially when a nasty storm hit King's Landing at night and lasted all morning until six o'clock.

You hate storms and Aemond also knows that you are afraid of them.

That night you couldn't sleep at all, you were curled up hiding under your sheets, hugging Vhagar as your only comfort, hoping that everything would pass soon.

The next morning you couldn't go to class due to lack of sleep and Aemond didn't even show up at the apartment.

Until one night, saturday at one o'clock in the morning, you heard the sound of the door and his footsteps in the living room and kitchen.

And ready to talk to him about how you've been feeling these past few days, as well as the fact that you practically live here alone, you head out of your room.

But you stop just as you open a crack in your door when you hear and realize that he is not alone.

"We should have arrived at my house, Aemond."

"We talked about this, Alys."

"But she's always here. I don't understand why she never goes out with friends or anything."

"I told you she's not that type."

You could have closed the door and gone to sleep with the idea of talking about what you had in mind with him another day, but you stay still when you hear that they are talking about you.

And what Alys says next only makes you stand stiller and listen more attentively.

"Oh my love... Are you still worried about her?"

You sharpen your ear more, attentive and confused.

Worried about me?

You repeat in your mind not understanding, willing to listen more, even though you shouldn't but still you do.

"I'm not worried. I'm just thinking about her."

"You are worried, Aemond," Alys repeats in affirmation and in a serious tone, "What I don't understand is why if the ball was two weeks ago."

"I know," you hear him mutter, "But still, you should have seen her face... she already had everything ready and I told her a day before that I wouldn't take her with me."

"But she told you it was okay, didn't she?"

"Yeah, but..." sigh, "In a way it felt much worse that she understood."

Alys lets out a snort.

"Of course she must have understood, my love," she says obviously, "I'm your girlfriend, not her."

You press your lips together, thinking that it didn't even cross your mind that he was still thinking about the ball when he doesn't even see you and isn't even here.

You don't fully understand but you do have an idea that after the ball, maybe he needed to distance himself from you and that's why you haven't seen each other anymore and he doesn't come to the apartment.

Maybe he felt really bad about himself for killing your illusion of going to the ball together, like every year.

But if he feels so bad, then why did he do it?

You ask yourself with some bitterness.

Apparently Alys was more convincing to him and it's okay, she's his girlfriend, but he's just feeling bad after it's all over.

"You care a lot about her and it's ridiculous, Aemond. As ridiculous as it is that she lives here and doesn't give you a single penny."

And then again her words catch your attention more than ever and you continue listening attentively, with your face falling because of her words.

"Alys..." he calls out to her in a tired tone, "I already explained that to you."

"But even so," she insists with an absurd tone, "Won't she be ashamed? She's your best friend and she doesn't even think about helping you a little?"

"She does help me and you know it."

"I mean financially."

"Her parents send her what money they can for college. She buys food and also buys what she needs for her classes and other necessities."

"Oh, so not only she doesn't help you with money, but also her parents?"

"Alys–

"Hasn't she even thought about getting a job?"

"Yes, but I told her that it wasn't necessary, that she could help me with the domestic and I could help her with the money without charging her anything."

"Are you serious?"

"She's my best friend, Alys. I'm the one who convinced her to live with me because I wanted her to."

"No, Aemond. It wasn't because you wanted to. It was because you pity her."

Your heart skips a beat and you open your lips and listen in surprise, beginning to feel that sharp pain in your chest as it hurts to hear those words.

"No," he says firmly, "It's never been like that."

"Oh please, don't fool yourself," she insists, "Y/N is not like you and me...her family has no money and from what you've told me, she's always been on scholarship in everything."

"Not everyone can have what we have, Alys," he says incredulously, "Besides, why would I care if she has money or not? Other people like us are really distasteful and don't have even a shred of humility, sincerity and trustworthiness like she has."

"I don't see it that way. I think she's so different and you feel so sorry for her that you've made it easy for her by putting her in an apartment like this because you know she and her family don't have the resources."

"That's what you think. But she and I both know that's not true."

He says with a confident tone and yes, it is true.

Alys at this moment made you doubt, a lot, because of the venom he was spitting out every word and for speaking so confidently about how he really feels about you.

But you never felt that Aemond treated you, since their friendship began, with pity.

Never.

"She has always been there for me and never with the intention of taking advantage of me for what I have. Not for nothing is she my best friend and you know how selective I am with my friends."

You hear the long sigh she lets out, to which you must think she has an irritated face.

"Well, if you say so," she says bitterly, "Still, isn't it annoying that she's always here? She doesn't go out to parties, she has no friends but you, and whenever we come here we can't even have the privacy we'd like because she's locked in her room."

"This is her house too."

"She's not a child anymore, Aemond. You should tell her to get a job and an apartment of her own or live in the dorm now. Tell her you want your own space now."

"It's not even a year since we've been living together, Alys."

"So, if I tell you in one more year that we want us to live together, will she live with both of us too?

"Of course not."

He answers instantly in an absurd low tone and again you feel your heart break at his words because of how quickly he answered and in what tone.

And you can't blame him, those are plans with his girlfriend, you have nothing to do there. But you can't help it and it really hurts because you will never be her.

"Look... I admit that I do wish I could have more privacy and also that she would go out to have fun and meet new people... I even want to get here with you and she's not here."

You feel the tears start to form in your eyes, but you bite your lips and control yourself.

"But I can't just tell her that I want to live alone now and give her to understand that I want her to leave. And I really don't want her to leave, not like this," he say honestly, "Not when things are still tense between us," he sighs, "She's my best friend and I love her. I don't want to hurt her anymore. I really want to make things right with her."

And as if everything Aemond had just said wasn't relevant to Alys, she says the following with every intention of it actually happening someday soon.

"What if the two of us go live together somewhere else?"

And the few seconds of silence afterwards on Aemond's part you know is from his confusion.

"Hm?"

"If you don't want to hurt her, fine, let her keep living here so you can feel good about yourself by continuing to help her."

You frown, really hating and feeling annoyed with his girlfriend's words.

"Then we can look for another apartment to live together," she proposes and you feel your heart shrink, "It doesn't have to be now, but later, but really do it, what do you think?"

You don't hear anything again for a few seconds, wanting to hear Aemond's answer while your heart beats hard against your chest.

"Alys–

"Please, baby. I want to live with you. I want to do many things with you."

And in that moment you know it's enough as you hear them start kissing and you finally, carefully, close the door and lie back down on your bed, holding back the tears.

Not wanting to hear anything promising out there, you put on your headphones and try to sleep with this ugly pain in your chest.

You shouldn't have listened to that conversation between the two of them, but you couldn't help it. But after listening to them, staring for a few moments at the ceiling of your room, broken, you make the decision you had thought about before but were not sure about.

And that is that you will fulfill Alys' wish... you are going to look for a job and you are going to ask for a doorm in the residence.

The following days after hearing Aemond's conversation with his girlfriend, continue the same.

Aemond still doesn't show up much at the apartment, the two of you don't talk much, he is always with Alys and you start looking for jobs near the university without success.

When you don't find anything, the days of searching get longer because the ones that are available are far away from your area and others don't apply for you because they ask for experience.

And at the same time you try not to let everything you heard that night affect you by keeping busy with college.

You also try not to let it affect you that Aemond said he wanted to make things right between you but he still doesn't see you and doesn't show up because he's with Alys.

You really don't understand.

That's why you continue to look for a job as it hurts you that you are practically living alone in a big apartment like this when before it wasn't like this and you enjoyed Aemond's company.

Now it's just you and Vhagar.

Then one afternoon when you come home from school and finish feeding Vhagar and start preparing food for yourself, suddenly the door opens and Aemond enters with a soft look, instantly observing you.

"Hello, pretty one."

You try not to look surprised and confused by his arrival, so you just don't let his nickname affect you and smile a little, just a little, in his direction.

"Hi."

He smiles a little more at you as his gaze turns to Vhagar who runs excitedly to greet him.

"Hello to you too my little one," he says tenderly and you see how he takes her in his arms, "I missed you."

You look away from him to continue cooking, not wanting to talk and preferring to ignore him in the same way he seems to ignore you by not showing up or sleeping here anymore, leaving you and Vhagar alone.

You want to know why he has suddenly appeared, but you control yourself from asking. Just as you tell yourself that you don't plan to say anything to him about moving into the dorm until you secure a job.

"What are you cooking?"

You hear him ask you as he approaches you.

"Fillet," you reply briefly.

"Do you mind if I ask you to cook one for me?" He asks with some care.

"No," you answer simply.

You really don't want to be rude to him, after all, this is your agreement, so you cook a fillet for him, waiting to serve everything.

"Do you have something to do today?"

He asks you suddenly and you continue cooking, without looking at him.

"Homework," you answer, "Why?"

"Ah... some classmates are coming to prepare an presentation we have tomorrow," he lets you know and you finally turn to look at him, "I hope you don't mind."

"No, it's fine," you assure him, turning your back on him again, "I'll be in my room, you know."

"Of course."

Quiet.

You continue cooking and he seems to be waiting for his food, so you don't say anything, mostly because you don't have anything to say.

You feel his gaze on you at almost all times, which you deliberately ignore, trying not to make a big deal of it.

When you start serving and finally turn your face to him to place the plates and also the glasses, feeling more firmly his gaze on you.

"Y/N...

And as soon as he says your name you knew he wasn't watching you silently for nothing, but because he was fighting himself to talk to you about something that had him in doubt.

"I know I haven't been around much..." he starts to say and you avoid letting out a sigh of irritation, "And I also know that I've left you alone with Vhagar—

"Yes, I know," you interrupt him in a nonchalant tone, "And that's okay, you have things to do and honestly so do I, believe it or not," you say quickly and then open the refrigerator, "Do you want soda or juice?"

Your clear disinterest for not wanting to talk about it makes Aemond stop talking and watch you in silence, feeling a little guilty for your attitude.

But you continue to watch him expectantly for an answer and he gives it to you after a few seconds of silence.

"Soda."

You nod and start filling the glasses. And at that, Aemond doesn't insist on the matter and simply remains silent, waiting for you to start eating together.

But he can't be like this anymore. He really wants to make things right and that's why he mentions the next:

"Don't think I forgot your birthday."

He says in an attempt to finally calm the tension between the two of you as you turn and hand him the glass and then take a seat in front of him.

"You don't?" you say almost sarcastically, almost.

"Of course not," she assures you, "It's this Friday. Aren't you excited?"

"Not really," you say honestly, "I have a project due that friday that has been causing me a lot of stress. I don't want to get a grade that isn't worth all the effort."

"Oh come on, you always get the best grades," he says with a small smile, "Don't worry, you'll see, everything will be fine."

And the next thing he does is to place his hand on top of yours to give it a gentle squeeze as he always used to do before in situations like these, just like you do with him.

At this, you try not to fall for him and his gestures, so you just nod thanking him with your eyes for his support and start eating, just like him.

"And what are your plans? Tell me," he asks you interested.

"Mmm..." You grimace, "In the morning I don't have much planned, just to talk to my parents," you confess, "After class my friends said they wanted to take me to a restaurant and at night to go out partying but... I'm still not sure about that."

"About what?"

"The party."

He takes a sip of his soda and looks at you confidently.

"Let's go."

"Where to?"

"The party."

"You want to go?" you frown.

"Of course I do," he says with a smile, "I want to celebrate and have fun with you on your birthday."

You raise your eyebrows expectantly at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, come on, I'll take you," he says more confidently than before, "In fact, since you won't be doing much in the morning, I could buy a cake for both of us, give you your present and I don't know, go out or watch a movie," he proposes, "Just me and you. Then I'll see you in the night and we'll go out and party."

So, for all that confidence in talking, even with that determination and that excitement in talking about making plans together on your birthday... you shouldn't but again you feel that hope come back to you.

That same spark and hope when he told you about the ball and in the end he did the complete opposite of what he promised you.

But this time... they are both talking about your birthday. You know and you know that he knows you're not just talking about anything.

That's why you stop feeling that little bitterness and forget about the conversation you overheard, you also stop considering going to live in the dorm because he just gives you hope.

"What do you say? Do you like the plan?" he observes you with a little excited smile.

And without being able to help it, you also smile softly in his direction, feeling how that emptiness in your chest fills up, leaving you feeling alone and ignored.

So you nod your head, avoiding showing too much of your happiness and illusion.

"Perfect."

And after you both finish eating, before his classmates arrive, you both make yourselves comfortable on the couches and talk about almost everything while Vhagar keeps you company.

And because of this, you feel more of that hope, that companionship that you had needed so much from him and finally everything is okay.

Everything feels okay.

All the following days, both Aemond and you go back to the old routine where you don't see each other as much and don't talk much.

But at least there is that feeling that between you everything is already fine and there are plans in place for the weekend that you couldn't be more excited and anxious about.

You've already planned everything with your friends as well, so it's sure to be a perfect day.

Until finally friday arrives and you expect to wake up to Aemond making a big fuss with that happy birthday children's song.

However, it doesn't.

You wake up to a chill in your room and also in the whole apartment when you realize that Aemond is not here. You check to see if he has left you a note or a text but nothing.

Instantly you think to yourself that he must be getting that cake he promised you, so you take a shower and get ready for the day.

Then you get congratulations from your friends and other family members. You even talk to your parents who are in your little town, Stone Hedge, in the Riverlands, working hard to support your studies.

And then when you finish getting ready, Aemond still doesn't show up, so you call him but he doesn't answer, you also send him messages but nothing.

[You]: I'll be waiting for you until 12PM. I have my class at 1PM.

And you send the message, wishing and hoping he'll be here soon.

Until the hours go by, he still doesn't answer, doesn't even return your calls, doesn't tell you anything and there definitely comes a time when you can't wait for him anymore.

And you control yourself. You don't want to think anything bad. You tell yourself that maybe something important came up at school.

So you stay positive, tell yourself that he will explain when you see him tonight, and leave the apartment to go to the university.

The moment you walk into your classroom, your friends greet you with big hugs, flowers and helium balloons wishing you happy birthday, which definitely lifts your mood.

And even more so when you turn in the most stressful project you've done so far in your entire career and with all the happiness and excitement in the world you see how you get graded with an A+.

And your friends are quick to say that it's all the more reason to celebrate tonight.

When the class is over, along with Aileen, Sara, Ryan and Ryan's friend James, you head to the restaurant they told you they wanted to take you to.

There they all order a bottle of wine and toast to your birthday and also to their good grades in this final project they handed in. Even the restaurant's employees bring you a small cake and together they sing happy birthday to you, feeling very nice.

Although unconsciously, you keep thinking about Aemond.

From time to time you check your phone to see if there are any answers from him yet, but nothing. So you really try not to think about him too much and fortunately, with the help of your friends, you succeed.

Until it starts to get dark and everyone says they should get ready to go to one of the many fraternity parties.

Ryan takes you with James to your house and expecting to see Aemond at the apartment, you arrive and no one is there except Vhagar.

You let out a long breath and call him one more time but nothing, so not to be late you get ready for the party.

You're hopeful that Aemond will eventually arrive, but even when you finish getting ready, nothing. And you know he won't show up or he would have already.

But there is still a little hope.

You think, confident and positive, because it is your birthday.

You ask Sara to pick you up and soon you are both arriving at the party where you meet your other friends who have also brought friends.

"What about your best friend, is he coming?"

Aileen asks you over the music and you, still wanting to feel confident, nod.

"Yeah, he might be a little late."

She nods and takes you to the kitchen to play with the other party games before everything here becomes a mess with so many people and louder music.

And you get distracted for a moment as you start to play and have some fun with the games.

You realize that you're actually having a great time despite Aemond's absence, but you still want to see him since it's your birthday.

That's why after a few hours have passed, the party is getting more crowded and everyone is starting to drink more, you check your phone and there's still nothing from him.

You turn away from everyone for a moment to call him but he doesn't answer. You look at the time and realize that it will be eleven o'clock at night and feeling a little worried now, you send him more messages.

[You]: where are you?

[You]: i have been trying to talk to you all day.

[You]: will you at least come to the party?

Nothing.

You let out a long, disappointed breath, yet you tell yourself that he couldn't have forgotten about your birthday, he just didn't.

He made the plans, he promised you a fun day, he said you two would be together.

But then... where is he?

As you walk back to the house, across the entire backyard, you finally feel your phone vibrate several times and you stop to turn the screen back on again, hopeful.

However... you wish you had not.

[aem❣]: sorry for not responding, I was busy all day with alys and we just finished having dinner with her parents.

[aem❣]: party?

And that's all he tells you.

So surprised and incredulous, somehow already expecting it since he didn't show up in the morning you think it can't be.

You can't really believe it and you wish you were so wrong but... it's the truth.

He forgot your birthday.

Your best friend really has forgotten your fucking birthday.

He doesn't tell you anymore, he doesn't say happy birthday, he doesn't apologize for his absence on your birthday, he just doesn't tell you anything.

He just asks you that, with that question being reason enough to give you to understand that he has forgotten the whole plan and your birthday.

And you don't cry.

You really don't want to cry. He doesn't deserve it.

So you avoid breaking down at that moment and just put your phone on silent to put it in your little bag, holding back the tears and enduring this huge sharp pain in your chest.

When that's when you decide you've had enough.

It's still eleven o'clock, you have one more hour to enjoy your birthday, then you'll have fun for the rest of the party and tomorrow you'll have time to feel bad about what your so-called best friend has done to you.

But this is not going to ruin what's left of your birthday.

So you suppress everything, mentally prepare yourself and go back to the party more confident and determined than ever to have fun with your friends who are here.

And that's what you do.

But after this, enough will definitely be enough.

taglist:

@hey-lucille @queenofshinigamis @winxschester @xcinnamonmalfoyx @ladymarg0t @yazzzmints @namoreno @wintrr13 @fan-goddess

#aemond targaryen x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x oc #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfic #hotd aemond #modern aemond targaryen #modern aemond

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u3pxx · 5 months

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PLEASEEE can you elaborate on the gavinners i cant stop looking at them theyre so pretty

sometimes i forget that outside of my friends and servers, i don't really talk much about my gavinners boys* huh! so basically, i originally wanted to make them so i could beef up turnabout serenade in my roleswap au, kind of like turnabout samurai where you have a lot more characters which in turn means a lot more suspects!

but then i realized, wait, i need to make them in the canon-verse first before i could make their swap au counterparts! and so now they exist pftt

here y'all go, i'm gonna be copy-pasting the character descriptions i wrote for them during art fight pftt <3

🥁 DEIDRE MINUENDO

Height: 5'7" (170 cm), 5'9.5" (176) with boots on Birthday: Jul 7 ♋︎ | Pronouns: He/Him, She/Her, They/Them

Deidre is the seemingly gloomy and stoic drummer of the band The Gavinners! At first, it could be difficult to get a read on them but despite all that, they're just like that because they prefer saving their energy. It might not look like it, but Deidre enjoys company even if they're not the most chatty with it and thrives the most when they are around other people (she prefers it if she's around the people closest to her though). Deidre is pretty sensitive and an emotional person even if they don't outwardly express it. To the people close to them, Deidre has a sarcastic streak and can be pretty snappy when it comes to teasing. She can dish it but she can't take it however as they can get slightly irritated when they're teased back. Even if they are a rockstar, they can get embarrassed when people praise or say nice things about them to their face, he tends to brush affection if even if he is secretly flattered by it (he's not gonna admit it though pftt) They also enjoy doodling here and there and like stuffed animals (they have a few of their own!)

Deidre was the closest to Daryan so the events of 4-3 affected him immensely. They felt betrayed and confused and tried to deny that Daryan would be capable of taking another person's life; they scrambled to do everything to protect Daryan from omitting information and even lying on the stand. In the end, all of their efforts were for naught and they felt incredibly guilty for what they've done, especially since she started antagonizing Preston when he was starting to suspect Daryan. They cut themselves off from the group, their job, and stardom. They ended up severely depressed and started to rarely go outside anymore. Only Doremy (Daryan's twin, also a close friend of his) was able to reach him during this time while Viva tried to but he kept refusing to see him. It took them a long time to finally be able to reconnect with the group and it took them a lot of help and support to be able to be well again. Deidre carries Daryan's betrayal to the group heavily and it took a while for her to start forgiving herself.

⚡ VIVA CHI

Age: 25 | Height: 5'9" (175 cm) Birthday: Jan 1 ♑︎ | Pronouns: He/Him

Viva is the lively and energetic bassist of the band The Gavinners! Though he may seem goofy and a little unserious, he actually is pretty responsible and is the mediator of the band (as the eldest brother of his siblings and the eldest of the band, he kind of made that his responsibility). He's a forensic scientist and has always had an interest in science alongside music ever since he was young (he thinks Ema is very pretty but she finds him annoying pftt). Viva was the last one to join the band when they were all in high school and despite his extroverted personality, felt a little shy at the time getting to know a new group of people (it's because Preston was there who he may or may not have crushed at while in high-school.) He's a lover of all things caffeinated (especially energy drinks though he should really pace himself) which isn't always the best match to the fact that he's got terrible anxiety and thinks himself down a spiral when he gets too worried.

Once the band disbanded after the events of AA4, Viva, though left in a bad place with his anxiety shot through the roof, fared better compared to the other members. He tried his best to keep in touch with everyone with varying successes despite Daryan's arrest being fresh and hurt. - visiting Daryan in prison to hear his side of the story - popping in to check at Preston in his office because the guy started to take worse care of himself - contacting Deidre even if she was trying to isolate and cut herself from everyone and looking out for Klavier even if he buried himself in his work He took a break from music like everyone else, he still hopes one day they can meet up and play music again, not even as a band, but as a group of friends who loved creating music.

🦇 PRESTON KEISS

Age: 25 | Height: 6'1" (185 cm) Birthday: Oct 25 ♏︎ | Pronouns: He/Him

Preston is the mysterious yet magnetic keyboardist of the Gavinners! Tall, dark, and bewitching; Preston is aware of the impression people have of him at first glance and likes to use that preconception to surprise and even catch people off-guard by purposely being silly or crass. He has a number of odd quirks and mannerisms that he doesn't realize he has, people tend to notice but they often let it pass because he is very handsome (pretty privilege lmao). Preston can sometimes be mischievous and finds certain things amusing only to him even if others don't find it as funny. He's always had an interest in horror and the macabre ever since he was a young boy which developed into a great fascination with the special effects used in old and new horror films alike. (He can be a bit jumpy when watching movies even if he loves to do it, he can't help it if the movie gets to him!) He plays up his whole immortal vampire schtick because the fans tend to theorize if he really was one. (He is not, he'd love to be one though pftt) Preston is very stubborn and adamant about his opinions and can be difficult to sway if he thinks he's correct; he is also quite awkward when it comes to personal matters, as can be seen in his strained relationship with his older sister and whatever romantic thing he's trying to achieve with Viva. He's used to acting larger than life when the cameras are on but being raw and honest has him feeling a little embarrassed and stilted. Preston smokes and keeps it a secret. (Don't tell Viva that!)

Preston was the first person in the band to start suspecting Daryan which he mostly kept to himself at first but wouldn't deny when you asked him (Deidre did not like that.) After Lamirior accused Daryan in court, Preston was determined to make Deidre confront the truth (unfortunately, not taking in why Deidre might be upset and in denial about it) which caused them to have a fight (with Viva being unsuccessful in de-escalating it.) After the Gavinners disbanded, Preston didn't feel very well after Daryan got sent to prison and lost contact with Deidre (whom he hasn't talked to since the case. [he misses them.]) He seemed fine afterward with his workload seeming to increase though upon closer inspection, he's started taking worse care of himself, skipping meals, and losing his interest in music. Preston has a lot of baggage to sort through regarding his friends and his family that will be difficult and painful for him to confront, but rest assured, he's gonna come out of it happy and well.

and here's a compilation of some very old turnabout serenade drawings too :^]

(i didnt make dei's bday turnabout serenade on purpose, it was a tragic happy accident DFGHDJ i wanted his bday to be 7/7 bc i made daryan 6/6 but then the date. i realize the date orz)

#also i dont think ive mentioned this before but ive been thinking about preston being somewhere in the autism spectrum too :^]#ace attorney #deidre minuendo #viva chi #preston keiss #klavier gavin #daryan crescend #the gavinners #sunnysidedoodles #den's gavinners tag #den's ocs tag #sunnysideanswers #id in alt text #described

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chochuuya · 10 months

Text

tending to his wounds.

scenario with (a few) tr boys! ヾ(・ω・*)

"no... no it's okay," he reassures quietly.

he doesn't want to complain that you're being a little too rough with his wounds. he's already bothering you enough, he thought. still can't comprehend the fact that you're so nice to him, despite always getting into fights.

he can still remember the first time you tended to his wounds. his heart just flutters every time he thinks of the sweet memory.

you with him? it's almost like a black cat and golden retriever sort of situation. who's who? i don't even know.

"it's okay." you mocked him.

"liar. you're clearly hurt. always fighting and then asking me to patch you up. i already told you to not get into fights, babe. or maybe lessen it a little..?" you rambled on and on while cleaning up the wounds on his knuckles.

"i'm fine," he grumbled back. while it may be true that he's hurting, he's far too stubborn to admit it. he doesn't like showing his weaknesses to anyone, especially not someone as sweet as you.

his mind goes into a frenzy when he hears your pet name for him, causing him to turn an embarrassing shade of red.

"babe..?" he mutters under his breath.

you look up to him with an eyebrow raised. "what's wrong?"

"n-nothing." he quickly changes his facial expression so that he no longer looks all red and flustered. his heart rate immediately slows, although it is still pumping at a much faster rate than before.

"just thinking, that's all," he added.

you thought about it and quickly realized as you pressed your lips together and shutting your eyes in shame.

damn it. why and how did that slipped out?!

"shoot, sorry. it's a habit."

he didn't expect you to apologize. his eyebrows shoot up and he tilts his head slightly.

"sorry... for what exactly? calling me babe?" he asks curiously, taking in the fact that you, in fact, used a nickname for him.

"uh, yeah." you quickly stick on the bandaids and stand up from your chair.

"okay, all done!"

he notices that you don't look nearly as embarrassed as he is. this causes him to blush even harder and his face looks like a tomato. he watches you stand up, not really knowing how to react.

"wait, where are you going?" he asks quietly, not wanting you to leave.

"going home obviously, it's almost 5." you say nonchalantly as you put your backpack on.

"alright.." he mutters as his eyebrows furrow, watching you put your bag on. while he tries to contain his emotions, something slips out.

"do you maybe wanna hangout after school one day..?" he asks in what he thinks is a casual manner, but is actually full of nervous glances your way.

hm, maybe this is the start of something new. wink wonk

RINDOU, chifuyu, mitsuya, inui, BAJI, angry, akkun, draken, your fav ♡

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

just imagining rindou acting this way makes my heart ache (-ω-、) i hope you enjoyed reading this~ reblogs & likes are always appreciated!! ♡

#🐯 luna writes #🐯 luna's fics #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers scenarios #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #x reader #rindou x reader #chifuyu x reader #mitsuya x reader #inui x reader #baji x reader #angry x reader #akkun x reader #draken x reader

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patrophthia · 1 year

Text

red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read

wc: 7.2k

this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>

there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.

taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.

Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.

"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"

"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."

Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"

"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."

Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"

Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."

Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."

"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."

"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.

"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."

"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.

"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."

When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"

Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."

On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.

I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"

"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."

"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."

"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."

"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."

"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."

"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"

I shrug, "not really."

"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.

"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."

Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"

"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"

"But what if they do," Mark argued.

"But what if they don't."

Mark sighs, "and if they do?"

"And if they don't—"

"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"

Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."

Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.

"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"

"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"

"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."

Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."

Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.

Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.

"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.

"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"

"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."

Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"

"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.

"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"

"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."

"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.

Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"

Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.

With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.

Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.

Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.

Theodore Nott was my soulmate.

"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.

Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.

The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.

My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.

Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."

There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.

"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."

"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.

"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."

His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.

Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.

It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.

It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."

"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."

Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."

I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.

"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."

"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.

"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"

A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.

The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."

"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."

Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.

Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.

Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.

"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"

"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."

"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"

From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."

"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other. "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."

"Really?" He says testingly.

"If you're so invested in it then yes."

He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."

Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.

Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.

And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.

A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.

The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.

Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.

"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."

Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."

"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"

Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.

"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.

Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"

"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."

Her?

Oh.

Me. I'm her.

Okay.

"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"

Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.

I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"

"We need a favour."

"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."

"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."

"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.

"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"

"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."

"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.

"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."

"And I can't help with that?" I ask.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"

That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"

"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."

"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"

"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.

I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."

Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"

"I never said—"

"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"

"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.

One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.

Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"

His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."

"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."

He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.

A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.

The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.

Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.

"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"

His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"

"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."

Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."

Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.

I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.

I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"

"I can't just let you pay for me."

He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.

"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."

"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.

I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."

"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."

"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."

"Don't gaslight me!"

Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."

What an ass.

I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.

He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.

The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."

He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.

After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.

The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."

What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."

"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"

With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"

"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."

If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.

"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."

"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"

"What an ass I am." Smart ass.

"Lucky guest." I murmur.

"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.

I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."

"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."

I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"

I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.

Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"

He blinks. "It wasn't important."

"Your birthday isn't important to you?"

"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"

I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"

Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"

If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."

Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"

I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."

I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."

"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."

"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"

Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.

"What?"

"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"

I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"

Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."

To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"

"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."

A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."

"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"

"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."

"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"

He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."

"Like?"

"Kiss you."

How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.

A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.

A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.

What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."

I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.

It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.

Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.

Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.

Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."

My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.

"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."

My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"

Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.

"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."

This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.

Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.

Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.

"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."

"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.

I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."

"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"

"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."

It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.

Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.

Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"

"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."

Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"

If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?

Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."

And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."

Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.

Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.

A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.

"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"

"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.

Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."

The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"

"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."

That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.

"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."

Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"

Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.

"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."

A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."

Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.

A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"

His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."

A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."

The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.

Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.

Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.

Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?

What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.

"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"

He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.

"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"

He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.

"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.

He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"

"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."

He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"

"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."

His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"

I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."

" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"

"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."

He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."

"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."

Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."

"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"

"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."

— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe

notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!

#theodore nott humor #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #Spotify #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #🧳: my writing

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bluecollarmcandtf · 6 months

Text

I Don't Believe in Hypnosis

When I was a boy, my father taught me how to work hard and provide for my family. Farming ain't for weaklings. It takes a man to do what I do, and this work has given me a hard head and thick skin. That's why I sure as hell wasn't scared of no Hypnotist last Friday night!

As I linger in the cornfield, finishing up a hard day's work, I recall what happened that night...

My wife, Annie, finally got me to take her to the Fair. She'd begged and begged until I'd agreed. My girl dolled herself up and put on her favorite dress. I knew I'd made the right choice when I saw her, looking like the thin, bubbly girl I'd courted back in high school.

Together, we climbed in my truck and drove towards the sparkling fairground. The place was alive with music and attractions. We rode every ride, and I'll admit I enjoyed getting out of the house with my girl.

Then Annie saw a sign for some weird hypnosis show. I had no idea what my wife was talking about, but she said she'd seen it in movies: the ability to control someone's mind with a swinging watch or some crap!

I told her it was dumb, but she flashed me her big baby blues and sidled up real close. I could never say no to her like that. With a tired groan, I followed her into the tent and sat down to watch the stupid show. The rest was a blur.

...that was a week ago, and I shouldn't dwell on it now that I'm done workin' for the day. Hopefully, Annie has supper is ready!

Entering the house, I don't see her in the kitchen. I'm a bit bothered because she's usually got it prepared by the time I come in, but then it strikes me! I remember why she's held up! How could I have forgotten our guest? I'll bet she's too busy handling him at the moment to cook my dinner. They're probably both still in the bedroom, if I had to guess.

I chuckle at my mistake and march to the back of the house, peering past the door into my bedroom. I was right! My wife's still under the covers with the Hypnotist. They're both too occupied to notice that I've come in, but I know how to wait.

Quietly as I can, I step over to the bedside and lower myself to my knees. There's not much else to do, so I just kneel on the hardwood and watch them go at it until they see me waiting.

It takes a few minutes but the Hypnotist eventually notices and gives me a roll of his eyes. "The hick is back," he groans while sliding off my wife's back, "Don't you have something else you could busy yourself with?"

"I just got done fertilizing the field," I answer back, trying not to be disgusted by all his sweat that's soaking into my bedsheets.

"Fertilizing?" he asks with a toothy grin, "No wonder you smell like shit."

I'm not too sure what to say back, so I just keep my mouth shut. He turns his attention back to my wife, leaving me with nothing to do but wait some more. I know he's a fraud, but I respect the Hypnotist greatly. Let me explain how I came to invite him over. Honestly, that memory's a bit hazy, but I'll try...

It happened after the show. In fact, the show must've been over awhile since all the chairs were empty aside from the one that held my beautiful wife. Next to her sat the Hypnotist, looking just as oily, pale, and chubby as he'd looked at the beginning of the show.

That was when I realized I was standing on the stage.

I didn't even remember standing up, let alone leaving my wife and going up to the front! Brushing off my worries, I approached the man leaning on Annie's shoulders. He stopped whispering in her ear and gave me a sly grin.

"Enjoying my wife?" I asked.

"Certainly, I can't believe a fine creature like this could end up with such a pig," the Hypnotist licked his lips as he stared at her dress, "Invite me to stay with you."

"Stay with us," I instinctively answered, extending a welcoming hand. The Hypnotist didn't shake it, but he did escort my wife out of the tent with fingers creeping down her back. After that, I drove them home. He's been holed up in my bedroom with Annie ever since!

"Go grab me a beer," he says, jerking me from my thoughts, "Hurry up!"

"Yup," I stumble to my feet and hustle to the kitchen. The Hypnotist has had me fetching his beer all week so I know how he likes it. Grabbing the last cold bottle in the fridge, I race back and drop to the floor with a bowed head. This is how he likes his drinks presented.

"Believe in hypnosis yet, farm-cuck?"

I snort. Of course I don't. "Hypnosis isn't real," I retort, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor until he tells me otherwise.

How could I ever believe in something like hypnosis? The power to control someone's head is something that only exists in cheap movies. I hate to say it, but I think my wife is a bit of a ditz for believing in such a thing. I mean, this guy's been living with me for a whole week and he still hasn't done anything to hypnotize me or Annie!

"So you don't mind when a real man sleeps with your wife?" he asks.

"You jokin?" I laugh at the stupid question, growling "I'd kill any asshole who tried!"

"... but?"

"...but obviously you can do anything you want to my wife. You have more of a right to her than I do!" I add frankly.

"That's right," he snickers back, sneering down at me from the bed, "Pour that beer on yourself."

Without hesitation, I grab the beer and step back, popping the cap and raising the bottle high over my head. The ice cold liquid sends shivers down my spine, but I empty the bottle over my head anyway while the supposed Hypnotist howls in laughter.

I shiver at the feeling of cold beer soaking into my clothes, leaving a sticky layer of beer residue against my skin; not to mention the puddle sinking into the floorboards around my feet. Obviously, I'm uncomfortable and embarrassed, but I put the bottle down, satisfied by a job well-done.

"Are all country bumpkins as dumb as you?" he laughs.

"I'm not a country bumpkin," I snort with a clenched jaw.

"Yeah you are," the Hypnotist sneers back, "Remember? Tell me you're a country bumpkin."

Suddenly, it dawns on me that he has a point. I hate to say it, but I suppose I am exactly what he's saying. "I'm a country bumpkin," I agree.

"I knew I'd convince you," he snickers, "Now let me finish on your wife. Face the wall and listen to how a real man handles a woman."

"Ok," I answer reluctantly, turning around and leaning my head against the wall. I have no idea how I'm supposed to feel about this. I mean, here I am soaked in beer and hungry for my wife to cook me supper, and this jerk wants me to wait? I want to be mad; I should be mad, but for some reason I just don't mind. Even as Annie starts moaning louder and louder, I can't help but respect the guy. I mean, he's my guest so I want to keep him happy. Part of me is honestly just relieved that he's enjoying himself and showing Annie a good time while at it. She's obviously enjoying it.

They go on for another hour or so, and each time Annie squeals, my stomach lurches at the thought of him doing a better job than me. I just stare at the paint peeling off the wall and try not to picture what's actually going on.

"Alright, cowboy," I hear a tired voice pant from behind, "I'm done for now. Turn around."

I keep my eyes averted, but I can't ignore how out-of-breath the Hypnotist has become. What's even more disturbing is the brief glance I get at my wife, seeing the dumb smile stretched across her face. She's grinning like her entire world has been rocked, and she doesn't even bother to look in my direction!

My stomach growls under my shirt, "Do you think Annie could make some dinner...?" I ask quietly.

He shakes his head in disbelief, "Sure! Get up whore!," he smacks her on the ass, "Go make me some food."

My girl giggles and climbs out of bed, completely unashamed to be called a whore or walking around the house naked, scurrying to the kitchen. My heart sinks.

"Sorry son, she's cooking my dinner right now."

"But I just spent all day tilling and-"

"Don't speak!"

My mouth snaps shut, and my knuckles clench! How am I supposed to till the fields all day and come home to no food on the table? I'm the one who keeps a roof over our heads! Even still, I take a deep breath and relax.

The Hypnotist is right. I'll wait.

"Listen to me, hillbilly Joe. You're going to go to the store and buy me some more beer," I sigh, thinking about how dark it's getting, "Don't take the car. You'll run. Sitting on a tractor all day is giving you a pudgy gut!"

The Hypnotist gives my aching stomach a couple slaps before continuing his instructions. I can't help but notice his own belly flabs jiggling with every move. "Oh and while you're there, I want you to make a huge scene, heein' and hawin' like the dirty mule you are. If anyone gives you trouble, you'll piss yourself, and get on your hands and knees, licking their boots like the beta-cuck you are. Got it, bitch?"

Stunned, I freeze for a second as it all sinks in. I don't know why on earth I'd do all that, but in a daze, my feet lead me out the door and start jogging the first of several miles into town.

"Eeeeh-HAAAaaw!"

My voice breaks as I enter the store, shoutin' my presence with the most obnoxious donkey bray I can muster. My throat is raw and my lungs are aching. Running seven miles to the nearest store was a lot more difficult than the Hypnotist made sound, but hopefully it shed some pounds off that gut of mine. I'd never noticed it before, but I can tell I need to lose some weight! My already beer-soaked clothes are now even more wet and ripe with sweat.

"HEEeeee..." my voice catches as I notice a couple store employees staring at me. They're giving me dirty looks, but I'm here on a mission! "eeEeEH-HaaAaAAuW!" I bellow!

I stumble towards the back of the store, where they keep all the drinks. My legs feel like jelly, so I'm limping pretty bad. I realize I must look insane or drunk, but I'm just getting some beer for my guest! He needs beer! I grab the first case I see, scooping it up in my arms with another ridiculously loud cry of a mule.

Turning, I run face to face into a cop.

"You been drinkin' tonight, bud?" he gives me an unamused look.

I let the case of beer tumble to the floor. This guy is the deputy sheriff. Our town is small enough for everyone to know everyone, so I've chatted with him and his wife a few times. He's always seemed like a real stand-up man, and over the years, I've managed to get him to give me a casual nod whenever we pass.

"hheee-haawWH!" I throat brays in his face.

A warm feeling spreads through my crotch, and I remember what the Hypnotist told me back at the house. I'm pissing straight into my jeans. My cheeks flush red, but I don't move or try to hide it. Somehow, I know this guy is supposed to see this happen to me. It's like this is all a performance, and I'm the world's greatest actor!

I know what to do next. For the third time tonight, I fall to my hands and knees, staring up at the appalled cop with a gaping mouth and heavy breath. This position is feeling more and more comfortable, as the night goes on.

Without warning, I slam my mouth on his standard boots, extending my tongue and lathering it against the dusty black leather.

The deputy kicks me back and glares down. "Come on, man!" he growls, "You like making my job more difficult than it is? If you want to get piss drunk, do it at home!" He grabs me by the collar and drags me to my feet. "You're better than this! Think of that pretty little wife you've got waiting for you at home!"

His words hurt, but only leave me more confused. I'm not drunk! I wanted to do this, right? Why else would I have pissed myself and licked his shoes? Getting another glance at the officer's disappointed stare, makes my shoulders cringe out of embarrassment. I decide it's best to just keep my mouth shut as he pushes me past the place's staff and kicks me out of the building.

When I come to my senses, I make sure to apologize. He just frowns and tells me to get in his cruiser. Thank the Lord he's driving me back home. I think I would've passed out on the side of the road if I tried to run back.

We don't talk much while the cop drives. I mostly just sit in the back and stew on what I'd just done. The smell of piss, sweat, and beer makes my empty stomach churn. Why had my guest asked me to do this? Why had I even agreed? This entire outing had been a nightmare! That damned Hypnotist can't tell me what to do! When I get home I'll give that phony a piece of my mind.

"You find it hilarious," the Hypnotist says, and all of the sudden, I can't stop laughing!

I was ready to punch that fat ugly freak, but he has a point! Thinking back, I don't know why I'd been upset: it was hilarious! I was a complete fool! Just thinking about the disgusted looks of those employees made me fold over cackling. And that cop! He seemed more disappointed than anything! Laughing, I can feel the wetness where I'd pissed myself, sending me into another wave of hysterics! It'd disgusted me before, but now the humiliation of it all was just so damned funny!

"That was a good one," I wheeze, whipping a tear from my eye.

The man chuckles at me, taking a bite of the steak my wife is serving him in bed, "Laugh at your pathetic excuse for a husband, tits."

Annie stops feeding bites of steak into his mouth and looks at me for the first time tonight. Without hesitation, she bursts into laughter at the sight of me. I chuckle along with her, though the feeling of amusement is starting to wear off.

"Alright, now go sleep in the barn with the cattle, dumbass!" the Hypnotist mocks, "Your wife is going to massage me to sleep."

"Ok," I mutter, barely even maintaining a smile at this point.

I'll admit that I'm sorta glad to leave. Standing there while he and my wife just laughed felt wrong for some reason. As I trudge through the mud on the way to the barn, I see the glow of morning on the horizon. Soon, the rooster will crow and the cattle will be mooing up a storm, so I don't know how I'm gonna rest.

Food-deprived, sleep-deprived, cold, wet, and sweaty, I slump down in the old wood barn. As famished as I am, even the leftover slop in the trough is smelling good. I brush off the idea, and curl up in the mud with the cows. My clothes are too soiled to bother with cleanliness, so I ignore the flies and manure.

I pray sleep will find me quick. If that Hypnotist could actually do anything, I'd have him hypnotize me to sleep. It's too bad hypnosis isn't real. Even if it were, I doubt it'd work on a salt-of-the-earth man like me!

#humiliation kink #hypno story #cuckhubby #mind control #degredation kink #gross

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russellsppttemplates · 6 months

Text

It's just the beggining (Oscar Piastri)

Oscar hasn't done or said anything, so you're taking matters into your own hands

Note: english is not my first language. It's my first Oscar piece and I'm nervous posting this, but hopefully you enjoy it! 🫶

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

my masterlist

Cw: mentions reader's grandparents' health issues, mentions the situation with McLaren and Daniel, insomnia

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Hey, Y/N!", James called you once he saw you walk by his classroom, "hey", you greeted back, adjusting your books on your arms.

"There is a new kid, I'm sure you know, Oscar Piastri his name is, and apparently he's staying the long weekend too, like you", he trailed off, not knowing if he was stepping further than he should.

"Yes, I am staying, it's okay to talk about it", you gave him tight lipped smile, "well, I was hoping you'd keep him company - he's a bit shy, but he's very fun to be around and the teacher also thought it would be good since you're both staying", he reasoned as you nodded.

You had to stay back because your grandparents didn't live in England, and because of their old age and problems that naturally arose with that, your parents had to fly out and spend sometime with them, meaning you didn't have anyone back home, so you stayed. As for Oscar, you found out that he was staying back because his family was in Melbourne.

"At first, I just had online schooling, but it got trickier to manage and my dad needed to go back to work so I had to stay back", he explained when you asked him why he was there, "and I hope I can focus on racing, but you already know that", he scoffed softly.

"I don't think I do, I'm sorry", you narrowed your eyes, genuinely unaware of what he was talking about.

After he told you all about his career until that moment, as well as his hopes and dreams, he chuckled, "you really didn't know?", he wondered.

"I didn't! The girls said something about you moving here but I didn't listen much, I'm not that into gossip and my memory is like Dory's, I can never keep up with the latest who likes who and who flirted with what's his face", you earnestly replied.

For the first time since he arrived at the school, he felt like he could really trust someone and he could hope for new friendships on this side of the world.

You were there for his final race in F4, clapping at him on the podium, and even F3 and F2 despite your university deadlines, always making sure you could support him in every way you could.

"Hey, Osc", you said over the phone, setting your pen down the desk and swivelling in the chair. You wanted to get as much knowledge and experience as possible, so you applied to do a internship in a physiotherapy clinic near your apartment during the summer.

"Hey, Y/N, how are you doing?", he asked as you could notice the antsyness on his voice.

"I'm good, it's a bit of a slow day here, my supervisor said I could read up on a few articles", you mused, "is everything okay?", you asked.

"I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight", he began, "you can come to my flat if that's okay, I'll order something in since I can't be trusted in the kitchen", he suggested.

"Fine by me, I'd like that, sounds really nice", you smiled, "I'll see you soon, then", you added, not wanting to dwell much on the fact that he didn't answer your question.

When you left the clinic, you walked to Oscar's place since the sun had graced you for the day and it was still nice to be out. Knocking on the door, you waited for him to open it, "I'm still in my scrubs as I didn't see the need to change", you said as you walked inside, hugging Oscar after dropping your backpack on the floor.

"Hey, you look nice, don't worry about it", he smiled as he led you to the living room, "I had to go and get the take out myself, but it's still warm", he said as you sat at the dining table.

"Now can you tell me if there's something wrong?", you wondered as you poured some of the wine he kept for you at his place on your glass.

"I have something to tell you actually", he played with his glass while he fought the smile on his lips, "this weekend I finally had some conversations with McLaren", he began.

"McLaren?", you asked as you served yourself of the food in front of you, taking some bimi brocoli and then some of the warm noodles.

"Yes, McLaren. We finally spoke about contracts and, this morning, I signed the official driver contract for next season", he stated as if he was saying that the sun had been out today.

"You did what? Since when has this been in the works?", you gasped, dropping the kitchen utensils and looking at him intently, "you're driving for McLaren next season?", he nodded, "like, driving on track? Oh my Goodness, Oscar! That's amazing!", you got up and hugged him, "why didn't you lead with that?", you pinched the nape of his neck playfully as you kept the tears from falling from your eyes. This was his dream and he was getting to live it as early as the end of the year when pre season preparations began.

"I didn't want to tell you over the phone", he shrugged his shoulders.

"But how? This is huge, Oscar!", you smiled, your teeth showing and eyes squinting with how high your cheeks rose.

"There were a lot of conversations about it, specially the last few weeks", Oscar explained, "they still want to keep it quiet", he warned.

"So you're driving alongside Lando?", you wondered. You only followed motorsport and the Formula series because of your bestfriend, so the assumption you made was based on what you had seen and read.

"Yes, hence why they want to keep it quiet, I've only told you and my family", he mentioned, "my manager knows that, obviously, but I really need you to keep quiet about it", he smiled.

"Absolutely, don't worry!", you assured, "this is so amazing Oscar! You're going to drive in Formula One! Aren't you amazed?", you beamed.

"I put in the work too, you know?", he dramatically feigned offense as you hugged him tighter, "this is your dream, Osc", you cooed, letting the tears fall freely down your cheeks as you swayed you both around, "I'm so proud of you", you hiccuped, holding his head close to your lips so you could kiss his forehead.

"Let's eat, this is getting cold", your best friend urged as the situation for more intimate and brought you closer and closer to the thing he had been avoiding for nearly a year.

The feelings he had been arbouring for you weren't just friendship. How could he keep himself from being in love with you? You had been there with him and for him when he was alone in a new country, being the other shy kid that spent the long weekend im boarding school, and since then you had been attached by the hip. You were kind, caring, intelligent, beautiful inside and outside and anyone would be a fool to not see why Oscar felt the way he did about you.

"I'm just going to a training camp, Y/N, I do these every year!", Oscar reasoned as you groaned.

"Who am I going to complain to about university? Or how noisy my neighbours are? I'm going to die of boredom", you stated, "when you come back, I will have ceased to exist because of boredom and lack of attention", you exaggeratedly threw yourself on your sofa.

"You won't, silly", he chuckled, pulling you up since his trainer was picking him up soon, "you're going to go out and enjoy yourself, okay? You'll barely notice I'm gone", he tried as you helped him with his suitcases down to the door.

"I'll miss you", you muttered as you hugged him, "enjoy your training camp!", you smiled as you pulled away, waving at him before you made your way to your place.

Getting on with the project you had to hand in at the end of the week, you got it all through to the end, leaving time to proofread later.

You clicked on the folder where you kept your photos and videos, looking through them and reliving all of the memories you had in there.

Most of them had Oscar somehow, wether it was a screen grab from one of your FaceTime calls when he was at races, picnics in the park and lazy days at your place.

You had to admit it, for your sake and Oscar's sake as your friendship was on the line. At first you thought it was just the fact that a boy seemed to want to spend time with you, so you put it to that. Recently, however, things changed perspective and you felt stronger feelings and emotions when you thought about him.

You loved spending time with him and cherished every single hour he chose to spend with you whenever he didn't have racing related duties. Every time he hugged you, you clung just a little longer to feel hia body against yours and his arms enveloping you.

Whenever someone approached you in the rare times you went out clubbing with your friends, "I have a boyfriend" became more a wish and a need rather than some made up excuse to get guys to leave you alone.

So, to sum it up, you either had an honest conversation with him or continued to dwell on feelings you couldn't keep to yourself.

"Y/N just sent me a picture of her notes, can you believe they ask them to know all of that?", he showed his trainer Kim while they had lunch after a strenuous workout.

"I had to learn most of that, too", he said nonchalantly, not necessarily diminishing your competences and intelligence but letting Oscar know that maybe his infatuation with you had a source elsewhere.

"Y/N is very smart, I'm sure she'll do really well - oh, she sent me a picture, she's all dressed up!", he said as he inspected the mirror picture. He assumed it was a requirement for your presentation, as you usually preferred comfy attire, since you had a pair of trousers and a shirt, some small heels on your feet and your bright smile that left him feeling butterflies in his stomach every single time, "she looks gorgeous", he said as he texted you the same words along with wishes of good luck.

"Something you'd like to say?", Oscar quesioned when he felt Kim's eyes on him as he put the phone back on the table, screen down.

"I'm just here wondering why you're not together", the trainer offered simply after he wiped his mouth on the napkin.

"No, we are not together, at least not yet", he mused. The thought had crossed his mind, admitting how he felt about you before the season began. If everything went belly up and you didn't feel the same and didn't see him that way, he would occupy his time and channel all of his energy into racing; if you did feel the same, he would have been worrying for nothing and would have a extra spring up his step for his first season in Formula One.

"Good to know you're working on it", Kim waved his fork at Oscar, "now we need to finish this and we'll do some recovery stretches", he announced as Oscar groaned, prolonging his meal as long as he could.

Today, Oscar was coming back from Lanzarote and you couldn't wait to speak to him. Lately, it all dawned on you.

It happened a couple of nights ago, a slight insomnia episode keeping you up when you thought about what things would be like from now on. Oscar would travel a lot more, and he would be in a much public role compared to his previous one. It would seem stupid to other people, but a lot more people would know him, and you were sure they would fall in love with him. How could they not? Hence why you wanted to quit those thoughts while you were ahead of them.

I'm on the cab to your place, it should take another 10 minutes and Can't wait to see you, Oscar texted you just as you finished tidying your living room.

You missed him dearly, so when you threw yourself into his arms, you didn't let go as he kicked his suitcases into your apartment while still holding close to him, "I kind of need to get my backpack off my back, and I can't do that if I don't set you somewhere - only for a bit at the very least", Oscar suggested after trying to balance you against his body with one arm but he didn't feel safe enough to let you go without you falling.

Reluctantly, you got back down, feet back on the floor as he discarded his backpack before he tapped your hip twice, "up again, I want a proper hug", he mumbled as you jumped back, his hands protectively holding your thighs up as he nuzzled his face on your neck, "I need you so, so much", he sighed.

"I missed you too", you replied back, "and I don't ever want to miss you like this when I don't know how to feel about you", you forwarded. Now or never, you thought as you jumped out of his hold and faced him.

"I missed you like I have never missed you before, not even when you go a visit your family or when you went away for triple headers - and I've been trying to understand why and I finally realised what it was. I like you, more than friends like eachother - for Goodness' sake, I'm in love with you", you chuckled nervously as you admitted it out loud to him, "and everyone else will love you too - I just know it -, so soon enough you won't be my Osc anymore and I couldn't not tell you. People - and these gorgeous girls all over the world - are going to like you so much and I won't be able to compete with them, so I'm just telling you how I feel. You can leave if you want or we'll just stay here in silence of that works too, but I needed to admit my feelings", you let out in one go.

Oscar smiled, a big teeth and gums showing smile as his eyes crinkled at your words, "I'm not leaving, and we are not going to be silent - at least immediately - because I want to tell you how I feel", he began, "I'm in love with you too; I have been for about two years and only realised it a year ago, and I don't want to pretend anymore. I want to be able to kiss you, to hug you, to take you with me wherever possible, to sleep next to you, to argue with you, I want all of it. With you", he said, hand cupping your cheek as his eyes asked for consent to kiss your lips.

It was as you dreamed it would be, soft, gentle and caring, lips moving in sync as you held him by his waist, pulling him closer to you.

"I thought I was loosing you to the whole F1 fandom", you chuckled, looking up at him once you pulled away.

"Of course you won't, you're my best girl", he winked, "this is just the beggining for us", he added as he pulled you to cuddle on the sofa, sharing his stories of the past days as you revelled in the feeling of being in his arms.

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fluff #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader

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thoughtidtry · 4 months

Text

Dress Final Part 3/3- LN

SUMMARY: Lando's best friend can't keep pretending he's not her everything. Not after missing seeing him in person for so long. PAIRING: Lando Norris X LongDistanceBestfriend!fem!reader A/N: Inspired by Lando's race win and song Dress by Taylor Swift. 900K+ words. Kinda steamy..... enjoy <3 Part: 1 2 3

"And if I get burned, at least we were electrified"

As the taxi came to a stop in front of the hotel, Lando stepped out holding out a hand to help you out of the car. You smile up at him taking his hand in yours. He guided you through the lobby with practiced ease, and you both made your way to the elevator.

"My hotel is on the fifth floor."

You stated as Lando pressed the button for the eighth. He looked over at you with a smirk.

" You think I'm not taking you to mine after what you said at the club?"

Your cheeks grew pink at what he was hinting. Lando had always been the man of your dreams but to think he could actually be yours had always been out of the question. He lightly chuckled as the elevator opened up on his floor, he loved to see the effect he could have on you.

Once the door to his hotel was closed he was on you. His hands, one placed on your waist while the other cupped your face as his lips pressed against yours. You didn't have a chance to think. His kiss, filled with overwhelming passion, had taken over your thoughts before you could even catch up to what was happening. Lando finally broke away for air with a smile on his face.

"God I've wanted to do that since I first saw you in the paddock."

You smile up at him with a teasing look.

"Well if you hadn't kept me hidden away for you long you could have done that sooner."

Lando's head tilted back in laughter as he knew the driver's or at least a driver's girlfriend had gotten to you this weekend too. He grabs your hand, leads you over to the bed, and sits next to you. His face changes from one of unencumbered joy to one of more cautious vulnerability.

"I need to tell you something so please don't interrupt me till I'm finished or I might lose my courage altogether."

You slowly nod to him to let him know you understand. He had you worried with the look in his eye.

"(Y/N), I've been in love with you since secondary school. I know you have your life here in America, but I can't let you leave without at let trying to get you to come with me."

As he spoke you let out a sigh of relief and a smile grew on your face. He was always oblivious and today solidified that fact. You reach your hand up to his cheek caressing in with your thumb.

"Lando I've been in love with you since secondary school as well. If you think I'm leaving this hotel without you by my side you are just as dumb as the other drivers say you are."

You lean in to kiss him as soon as you finish speaking, putting all your love and emotions into the kiss. Lando immediately starts to kiss you back, quickly taking over the kiss by pushing you back on the bed so that he is hovering over you.

"I woke up just in time. Now I wake up by your side."

After that night in the hotel, Lando had traveled with you back to your apartment from the week in between races. Every morning you would try to be as quiet as possible but somehow Lando always woke up to wish you luck and kiss you goodbye.

You had been out most days as you set up your transfer with your company to their London office. It had always been a part of your plan to move back, but now you just had more reason to do it sooner. At least for now, your office had agreed for you to work remotely for the next couple of weeks unless a case went to trial.

Lando enjoyed waking up next to you every morning even though he knew you would rather him sleep more than wake up with you. You had always been that way, always cared about his well-being more than he did. He couldn't wait to wake up next to you every day.

Once your lease was up on your apartment, Lando insisted you move in with him. At first, you had been hesitant, thinking you two were moving too fast, but you had agreed after a while of him wearing you down. Now you traveled with him to almost every race, no longer his princess locked away in a tower, but still his treasured prize, his love, and soon his wife.

"Made your mark on me, golden tattoo"

After a year of dating Lando popped the question at the very race you had reunited. America will always hold fond memories for the two of you as you both made your way back home, back to each other. The other drivers to this day tease you both about how your being together was their doing. Each one tried to make their claim of having a kid named after them. At first, you and Lando had laughed them all off but the day for baby names came sooner than you had expected.

In the end, you would have your first child 2 years later and two drivers got their wishes granted. Oscar Daniel Norris had his father's eyes and smile but your hair and intelligence. He was the pride and joy of the whole paddock and was spoiled by the drivers every chance they could. You would pout every time they stole your baby away and Lando would laugh before giving you a sweet kiss.

"Now you see why I kept you to myself for so long."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Thank you guys so much for coming on this journey with me! This is the first fanfiction I've ever posted and I'm so happy you all liked it!

Taglist: @scarletwidow3000 @alltoomaples @carey86 @eiaaasamantha

#formula 1 #lando norris #formula one #lando norris x reader #long distance friendship #long distance romance #mclaren

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jungle-angel · 1 year

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A King's Home Is His Castle (Admiral!Bob Floyd x Reader)

Summary: You and Bob have worked so hard to build lives for yourselves and for your family and despite what others say, home will always be a special place for you, Bob and your little ones.

Warnings: Misogynistic remarks from a Naval officer, language, Admiral Bob popping off and pulling rank etc.

Tagging: @bradleybeachbabe @sebsxphia @floralfloyd and any other mutuals who have kept me going since day one. Guys, this is for you

Bob couldn't really stand having to go to half of these Navy functions, especially now since the weather was shitty and everyone was coming down with seasonal illnesses. Already he could feel the onset of it, the scratchiness in his throat, the body aches and pains, the swollen nodes in his neck and the achy wetness that had settled in his chest.

The last place Bob had wanted to be was at the Seaport Hotel, his clammy skin pricking with goosebumps under his Navy dress blacks as the snow had begun to fall. In he went, heading to the ballroom where all the other Navymen and women had gathered to celebrate Cyclone's birthday. Good God he felt terrible, just plain sick and terrible.

"Admiral Floyd!" boomed a gravely, deep voice. "Good to see you."

"Admiral Hauser," Bob greeted, shaking his hand. "Likewise."

"How's the family?"

"Never better," Bob said with a smile. "(Y/N) and I are excited, we've got a new little one due in a month."

"Good on ya kid," Admiral Hauser replied. "I'll see if I can bring back a case of cigars from Southeast Asia when my carrier crew ships out for duty."

"Oh that's right," Bob said, suddenly remembering. "You're training with the Royal Thai Navy SEALS aren't you?"

"None other," Admiral Hauser chuckled. "Admiral Nataya said he wants his units in shape for duty and that's what we're gonna do."

Bob and Admiral Hauser shared a few good laughs, but it couldn't do much to suppress the annoying tickle in his throat.

"Jeez Bob, you look like hell," Jake remarked.

"I feel like it," Bob answered, taking a deep breath and letting it out. "I think Auggie caught something at school and brought it home."

"Uh oh, speaking of diseases," Jake muttered under his breath. "Here comes one right now."

"Oh God no," Bob whispered.

Sure enough it was, Admiral Terrance Hamilton, the bane of the unit's existence. Bob couldn't stand the prick for the life of him let alone work with him. The shithead had already gone completely grey, the results of self-induced stress and problems that had been of his own creation. A bore to the enth degree, Admiral Hamilton talked excessively of finance, a hobby of his that seemed to overtake his mind, a man unable to understand the outside interests of others. He had profusely made fun of Bob for enjoying books that weren't about hard, cut and dry facts and couldn't stand the fact that Bob and the other Daggers had chosen to send their children to a school where creativity and imagination were the prime focus of the curriculum. Hell, Hamilton had even gone so far as to make lewd and rather unseemly jokes about (Y/N) Floyd, Bob's beloved wife and the mother of his children. Bob could practically smell the arrogance radiating off the man as he approached, the self-righteous gleam in his eyes and the stiffness of his perfectly pressed Navy dress blacks.

"Admiral Floyd," Hamilton greeted, shaking Bob's hand.

"Admiral Hamilton," Bob said with a rather curt politeness. "How are you?"

Hamilton replied with only a scoffing chuckle. "How do you think I'm doing?" he questioned. "I've been dealing with a passive aggressive woman who can't seem to wrap her head around what's going on lately."

Bob only nodded and gave him a polite smile. He could feel the cold negativity creeping in under his skin. "Sorry to hear that," was all Bob said.

"Ah, there's nothing that can be done," Hamilton answered with a wave of his hand. "How about the wife?"

"We're uh.....we're getting ready for a new baby in the family," Bob told him. "This is our fourth."

"Hah!" Hamilton laughed. "Must be doing something right if you can keep her full of you."

Bob and Jake cast a glance at each other, scrunching their eyebrows together. "I beg your pardon sir?" Bob asked.

"Can't keep her off you huh?" Hamilton said with a chuckle. "Sweet and demure on the outside but a fiend in the bedroom?"

"Sir I'm sorry but I don't....."

"It's a joke," Hamilton cut in.

"Doesn't seem like a joke to me," Jake said rather coldly.

"Oh c'mon Seresin," Hamilton chuckled. "Laugh a little bit. That's not the worst you've heard I'm sure."

Bob could feel the heat filling his face and something coiling in his chest. The audacity of this man.....the pure, sheer audacity to make those remarks and in public of all places!

"So I hear the boy's in school huh?" Hamilton enquired.

"Yes," Bob answered, swirling the amber whiskey and half melted ice cubes in his glass. "Just started the kindergarten program at the Waldorf school near where we live. The rest of the squad's kids are in his class as well."

"One of those hippie schools I presume," Hamilton said, scoffing a little. "If I had kids I wouldn't pay to have them waste their education on art and music."

Oh now he was getting mad. Bob knew that there was nothing worse in the world than feeling sick and angry all at once. He couldn't tell if it was heat from his sore throat or from the anger that boiled in his blood, but something was about to boil over.

"You said your on what? Your fourth kid too?"

"Yes."

"Jeez," Hamilton sniffed. "I'd have no patience for that, a bunch of kids running around the house screaming, talking back and being undisciplined. And let me guess, your little wifey wants a whole baseball team?"

That was it......that was officially the straw that had broken the camel's back. Jake saw a flash in Bob's eyes as Bob calmly took a sip of his whiskey, never once breaking eye contact with the slimy little twerp.

"Let me tell you something Admiral Hamilton.....Sir," Bob said, sharply emphasizing the last word. "Do you have any idea what family actually means or are you just that blind and ignorant?"

"Sorry?"

"You have no idea what (y/n) and I have been through in our eight years of marriage so far," Bob said icily. "You don't have a clue what we've both given up to be together and to build the lives we have now. In fact I think you might be a little bit jealous."

"Jealous?" Hamilton questioned.

"Yes, jealous," Bob answered sharply. "Because you walked all over the people who have tried to help you, the very same people you deemed to be out to get you because you always thought you were in the right about everything."

"Admiral Floyd, I....I never...." Hamilton chuckled nervously.

"And another thing too," Bob interrupted. "You've always been jealous of what everybody else has. I've heard you, day after day complain about people that are married, have kids or have this or that. Don't think I haven't heard you complain about Lieutenant Avery and her wife celebrating fifteen years together or Lieutenant Parker and his husband finally adopting a kid they've been fighting for, for the last year and a half or even Admiral Seresin and his wife, Rachel, celebrating their own wedding anniversary."

Admiral Hamilton simply froze, a dead look in his eyes and unable to speak.

"One more thing," Bob said, the heated hardness in his tone becoming obvious. "If I ever and I mean ever.......catch you making unseemly remarks about my wife or any of the other Navy wives every again, I'll make sure that your Navy career is ruined and that your reputation has a huge yellow stain. Hell, that might even be a good nickname for you, now that I think about it. How do you like that Admiral Seresin?

"I'm starting to think that's not such a bad idea," Jake said with a huge, shit-eating grin crawling across his face. "Old Yellow-Stain....it's got a nice ring to it."

He could see that Hamilton was fuming, Bob having hit him right where it hurt the most.

"You think you're better than everybody else don't you?" Hamilton fumed. "If it's one think I can't stand it's privleged little pricks who think they're better than everybody else."

"So you?" Bob questioned, raising his eyebrows.

Hamilton's face began to turn bright red.

"Sorry Admiral," Bob said, his cheeky, lopsided grin forming on his face. "But the only person you're hurting is yourself."

Oh could he feel the anger beginning to radiate from the insulted Admiral, his eyes were like ice, his eyebrows turned down in a scowl that would have a brand new seaman running scared.

"So might I propose a toast," Bob said. "To Admiral Hamilton, the greatest insult to the Navy since Admiral Richmond K. Turner."

It was a split second before Bob flung the remaining whiskey in his glass into Hamilton's face, the slimy gimp's jaw hanging open in shock as the amber liquid ran down his face and dripped onto his dress uniform. Admiral Hamilton huffed and stormed off, leaving the ballroom and the two other higher ranking Admirals in his wake.

"Well that went over like a fart during Christmas Mass," Jake laughed.

Bob laughed but it was interrupted by a bone cracking wet cough.

"Alright," Jake said. "What do you say we stay for the cutting of the cake and then go home?"

Bob grimaced and nodded, trying to take in a breath. They stayed just a little while longer before at last, they were able to jump in Jake's truck and head for home.

The snow was coming down a little bit harder, the plows just having gone by and the heat blasting as music played from Jake's phone in the cupholder.

"Nice pop-off by the way," Jake chuckled.

"That actually felt really good," Bob laughed.

"You got nasty though! I'm proud!" Jake exclaimed.

They laughed the whole way home until Jake pulled in the driveway, the two huge Victorian homes side by side in what was known as "Admiral's Village". Bob gathered his cap and walked along the sidewalk, up the path and onto the front porch where he lived with you and your children. Much to his surprise, the lights were still on inside which meant that the babies would still be awake, more so if school was called off the next day.

He opened the door and headed inside, the house warm and cozy and the smell of a fresh dinner wafting from the kitchen. The scritching of nails on the hardwood floor signaled the arrival of the family dogs, Tank, Bandit and the two newest additions to your family, a little black Scottish terrier that Auggie had named Jock, and a little Pekingese puppy you and Bob had named Dolly after she had been found outside the Dolly Madison house in DC. She was still so tiny, only half the size of Jock and dwarfed in comparison to the others.

Bob gave them all the scritches they could possibly ask for, scooping Dolly up off her stubby little legs and into the curve of his elbow before he made his way into the kitchen.

There you were, just having seated Auggie, Patrick and Diedre at the table, the smell of a warm, freshly roasted chicken out of the oven and resting in the pan on the stove while the smell of your homemade cinnamon spice cake cooling on the counter.

"DADDY!!!!!!" The babies chirped as they practically jumped off their seats at the table.

"Come give me hugs babies!" Bob laughed as Dolly sprang to the floor, leaving him to throw his arms around your children and litter their cheeks with kisses.

"Baba! Baba I want kissy!" Diedre demanded as she tried to push past her brothers.

"C'mere princess," Bob chuckled, scooping her up off her feet and pressing a big, wet kiss to her cheek which made her giggle.

Bob looked over at you in your burgundy colored shawl sweater, He could almost feel the hot flush himself, though it might have been due to the burning clump of mucous in his throat more than anything else.

"There's my handsome king of the castle," you teased as you took each other in your arms.

Bob pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before nuzzling your cheeks. "Sorry sweet cheeks," he said. "I think I'm getting sick."

"I'll say," you remarked, holding the back of your hand to his forehead. "You're warmer than usual. Auggie must've brought something home from school."

"Sorry if I get you sick sweetheart," he apologized.

"Oh Bob c'mon," you assured him. "I teach at that same school and my first graders this year still don't know how to cover their mouths."

Bob laughed a little before the coughing caught him again. You called the babies back into the kitchen to come and get their plates, plating everyone's dinners before you, Bob and the little ones were all seated in the dining room. Once grace was said, the five of you dug right in and went back and forth about how the day and evening's events had gone.

"How was the birthday celebration for Cyclone?" you asked him.

"Well," Bob said before finishing the last bite of asparagus. "Funny you should ask that."

He explained every little bit about what had happened, even the parts that he knew might upset you. Yet despite the awful remarks made by one of the naval commanders, you remained level headed and calm.

"You watch," you chuckled. "He'll say the wrong thing at the wrong time and Hamilton's Navy career will be over."

Once dinner was eaten, you loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, cleaning up and putting away the leftovers for the next day while Bob lit a fire in the living room fireplace. He went away upstairs to switch into something more comfortable, the flannel pjs you had gotten him for Christmas the year before.

You made him a hot green tea, slipping in one of your herb packets for seasonal illnesses and let it steep before handing it off to him. "Mommy! Mommy!" Auggie chirped, bouncing with excitement as he tried to hand you one of the books off the shelf. "Can we read a story?"

"Go right by the fireplace and we'll read a story before bed ok?" you told him. "I've gotta get Daddy settled first."

Auggie giggled and ran off to get nice and warm by the fireplace, all three of the kids having just slipped into their pjs and dragging a blanket and their favorite stuffie down from their bedrooms.

“Chivalry!---why, maiden, she is the nurse of pure and high affection---the stay of the oppressed, the redresser of grievances, the curb of the power of the tyrant ---Nobility were but an empty name without her, and liberty finds the best protection in her lance and her sword.” You read.

You, Bob and the babies were completely engrossed in Ivanhoe, the strange and wonderful tale of a Saxon knight and his adventures during the reign of Richard The Lionheart. He loved the way you read, your voice comforting and soft, like the cozy wool throw blanket he had wrapped himself in. Bob didn't care what anyone said. He loved nights like this, when you and him would gather around the fire with the babies to read to them before bed, losing yourselves in the adventures, fantasy and fun of it all.

It wasn't long before the babies had all fallen asleep with Bob carrying them upstairs, one at a time and not wanting you to hurt yourself since his sister had insisted on no heavy lifting at all. Once they were all asleep, it was just you and him, the two of you on the comfy old sofa in the living room, warming yourselves by the fire and his big, gentle hand rubbing soft circles on your obvious bump.

"Jeez (y/n) he's going nuts," Bob chuckled, feeling the tiny little feet kicking against his palm.

"He knows it's you," you hummed happily, a lazy smile worn on your face as you leaned against Bob and relaxed into his touch.

Bob bent a little lower and pressed a loving kiss to your bump. "I love you my precious boy," he whispered. "You, your momma and your brothers and sister mean everything to me."

You both snuggled close together, letting the troubles of the day run off like rain on a roof. The snow kept falling hard outside, but the warmth and coziness of your home enveloping the two of you fully as you and your husband fell asleep with the fire crackling away through the night. When you woke up the next morning, greeted by the look of pure love on Bob's face, you were both grateful beyond words for each other and the life you had built.

#top gun maverick #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #admiral!bob #admiral! bob floyd #jake hangman seresin #admiral!jake #admiral! jake hangman seresin #dagger squad

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solar-wing · 1 year

Text

⚣ BatBro with his BatBros 🦇

⚣ 🦇 A/N → Ah, my first full installment of BatBro headcanons. Where does the time go? Anyway, as we progress throughout these headcanons, you can imagine the characters slowly getting older too. By, the time we get to the end, the reader is at least 18 years old making Damian anywhere between 18-19 years old, since he's a few months older.

⚣ 🦇 Summary → Going from the life of an only child, to having 4+ siblings, can't be easy. Especially when most of those siblings brothers, and those brothers come from a family a crime-stopping vigilantes. What was your mother thinking in leaving you with your dad?

REBLOGS are very appreciated! REPLIES to, I love hearing your thoughts 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🦇

I find it funny that no one has ever thought to take advantage of the fact that Bruce Wayne has created a habit of popping up with a new kid like every couple of years. They could try to offer up their kids to him in hopes of cashing in on the Wayne family's wealth.

And he actively turns away all of them, even if he is tempted a couple of times. At least until he gets to you. Everything was normal until your mom decided one day she was done being a parent and just dropped you off at the front gate and left when you were 9 years old. This is also around the same time Damian ended up in Bruce's care, so you both were now dealing with the fact that you've suddenly got a father you never knew, as well as a brother. Well, brothers, since Bruce did somewhat actually have children before he had you guys.

She left a note along with your other belongings that said “Trust me. He yours,” with nothing else. Bruce could only stare down at you with that usual grim, but pondering look he had while you just stared back at him.

“I’d thought you be taller,” was your first sentence towards your dad. One that was vaguely familiar to the billionaire as he rolled his eyes and led you inside the manor.

Obviously, Bruce ran a DNA test and confirmed everything to be true. You were indeed his son, snarky remarks and all. You and Damian must share that quality.

Speaking of, since you and Damian were blood-related, you have a more special bond with each other. Even if he bullies the shit out of you.

Hiding your toys and games all around the manor, stabbing your favorite teddy bears and various stuffed items with his knives and daggers, and I'm just going to throw in that you have a love-hate relationship with Scooby-Doo now.

You love the cartoon, but Damian took advantage of the fact that you may not do well with scary stuff and would make his own costume versions of the villains from the show and chased you around the house with them. They were horrifying and disturbing enough to even unsettle Bruce a little, so you could imagine the early childhood trauma you endured.

People think your fear of clowns stems from the Joker. No, it's from Damian.

It’s always from Damian.

Plus, since you and Damian are around the same age, you both end up in the same grade at the same school. So he always keeps a look out for you and protects you from any bullies, while you teach him how to be more sociable and friendly towards others.

Now, if Damian's closest relationship with another brother outside of you is Dick (who you along with everyone else agree that he is basically Damian's second father), I imagine you have a close relationship with both Jason and Tim for various reasons.

You and Tim connect because you both have very intellectual and detail-oriented minds. You watch Scooby-Doo, so you obviously have an interest in mysteries as well as the Red Robin personality. Whenever he is having a hard time connecting dots to a case or a puzzle, you simply come in, take one look and somehow figure it out. Sometimes, you’ll even just make a random statement that ends up being the key to what Tim is looking for.

Tim and you both have an interest in video games, you a little bit more than him. It was because of you that he even really got into them. Before, when it was just you and your mom, you didn’t have anyone to really play with, besides whatever friends you could find online. So having someone you could play with, especially in person now made you and Tim’s bond that more special.

Also, you’ve made it your responsibility to make sure the guy gets adequate rest and sleep and doesn’t drown himself in caffeine.

“Timothy Drake! It is way past your bedtime. Off the Bat-Computer and upstairs into bed young man.” You yelled, marching downstairs with an amused Alfred towing behind.

Your father and siblings all watched from the sidelines as well, all amused at the sight of your young, tiny body, yelling at a slightly older and taller teenager as if you were his father.

“Um, I’m older than you,” Tim responded while holding on to what had to be his 5th coffee of the evening.

“Do I need to repeat myself?”

“Master Tim, with all due respect, I’d do what the young lad says. He’s already started unplugging and cutting the cords to every coffee and espresso machine in the manor.” Alfred said from behind.

Tim looked at you in horror while you stared at him the look on your face very much communicating a ‘try me if you want to’ message, and that’s when he noticed the pair of scissors in your hands.

“OKAY! I’M GOING! I’M GOING!” Tim shouted, sprinting out of his seat and up to his room. Your brothers were quietly laughing until you turned your head right to them.

“And, what are you three laughing at?! Get to bed right now.”

Now, it was their turn to question you. Cause Dick and Jason were full adults and even though Damian was only a few months older than you, well that was it. He was older than you so he bossed you around, not the other way,

“Woah, there little man. Jason and I, we’re grown. We don’t have bedtimes.” Dick said.

“Yeah, squirt.” Jason voiced right behind Dick with his arms crossed.

“Watch yourself, little brother,” Damian warned.

You raised a subtle eyebrow at them while your father and Alfred both looked at you with curiosity.

Alfred, however, had a little more amusement to his look since he already knew where this was headed.

“Dick, I will never have another brother movie night with you again, and I’ll start going to Jason for brotherly advice instead of you. Also, I’ll tell Kory you were being mean to me.” You threatened your oldest brother.

Dick was both hurt and fearful because how could you even threaten him with something that awful and quite frankly, plain rude and ridiculous. He gave way better advice than Jason! Also, he knew Kory absolutely adored you ever since Bruce brought you to the tower that one time and would not hesitate to put him on punishment as well if she even thought he was being mean to you.

Jason was holding a smug look at your threat toward Dick, that is until your eyes landed on him. “Jason, I know where you keep all of your limited edition books, especially your prized signed copy of Pride & Prejudice. We certainly don’t want that getting in the wrong hands, now do we,” You said, turning to your second oldest sibling. Jason was surprised, and slightly impressed, though also terrified. How could you know?!

You turned to your blood-related brother, who held a bit of an overconfident look as there wasn’t anything you could have over him that would have him actually following your orders. “And Damian, I’m sure you don’t want dear old Dad to know what happened at school last week, now do you?” You said, playing slightly with your fingernails while ‘innocently’ rocking back on your feet as if you weren’t blackmailing your siblings. For noble reasons, of course. They need their sleep!

Your brother was both shocked and angry at your statement. How did you even know about that? The look on his face, well, let’s just say it wasn’t friendly, not in the slightest.

But, to no one’s surprise except your dad, all your siblings silently trudged upstairs without another word.

Bruce looked at you and Alfred with a raised eyebrow as you turned back to face your brooding father, only now you could see his brooding look had a hint of questionable curiosity and amazement.

“You too, daddio. It’s bedtime, yo.” You rhymed. Apparently, not only was everyone’s sleep tracker, but you had a bit of flow with it too. Someone should get you a record deal.

You gave your dad a slight hug, your head barely reaching above his waist. You still had growing to do! You’d get there eventually.

Walking back toward the entrance, you also made sure to stop and give the butler a fist bump since he was your secret partner-in-crime. How else would you know where to hit to get your brothers to fall in line? with a slight hug to his side before heading back towards the entrance.

“Thanks, Alfred,” You said!

“Anytime, Master Y/N.”

Bruce eyed you both suspiciously before he realized what was going on as he watched your small body bounce up the stairs.

“Really? You’re in cahoots with my son, Alfred?”

“Why, Master Bruce, I’m offended. I’d say it was more of a beneficial partnership. Cahoots is for the reckless.” Alfred responded jokingly.

The age-old ending to every mystery novel plays out again, the butler did it.

Though, Bruce was still impressed by how easily your brothers listened to you without a second thought. It takes him a few tries just to get a sentence through their head, and that’s if they were actually listening to him that time.

“Wow, he got Jason to listen to him? I still can’t get Jason to greet me without looking him looking like he wants to punch my lights out.” Bruce commented.

“He has your commanding tone, sir,” Alfred said before backing up the manor himself, “I wouldn’t let Master Y/N catch you back down here, though. I heard he’s got some especially dirty leverage on you.”

Bruce suddenly decided to look at the clock, “Guess it is a little late,” He muttered before rushing upstairs himself.

Speaking of Jason, your relationship with the second adopted Wayne kid had more of a special touch. The Red Hood persona was the brother you really looked up to. You liked and respected how he branched out and followed his own path. Of course, Dick technically did the same, but considering everything Jason went through, he had to be one determined fucker to return to the very life that killed him. And, even though you don't necessarily agree with his 'strategies', you were always standing in his corner.

Though, Jason didn’t take well to you at first. In fact, because Damian left such a bad taste in his mouth after they met; when you two were introduced, he literally ran upstairs and screamed at Bruce about how he was the biggest hypocrite in the world for all those lectures he gave him and Dick about using protection. Richard silently agreed, also remembering his first meeting with Damian.

Determined to not live with a Damian 2.0, and also thinking he was saving you from a life full of trauma because, in his mind, no one deserved to be raised by someone like Bruce Wayne, Jason attempted to take you down to child protective services.

Your father was very unhappy when he got a call from CPS later that day and he could clearly hear you sobbing on the other side of the phone just as Jason walked through the front door. He was not the least bit ashamed, at least until you came home and he saw how upset you were.

He apologized and decided to give you a chance, thinking since the whole ordeal actually had you crying, you had to somewhat have a soul, unlike Damian. After some time, you got really close with each other.

Jason taught you how to fight and defend yourself. He’d read you stories at night from some of your favorite books as well as your own, and he’d always get Damian to back off if he decided to pull another one of his scare antics on you.

Your second eldest brother was your get-out-of-jail card too, whenever Bruce punished you for something. Though, sometimes, it may have just been better to take the punishment than let Jason pull you into whatever shenanigans he was planning. Considering the fact you and he managed to put an entire city without power for two nights somehow.

"How did you two manage to short-circuit the entire electrical grid in New York?" Bruce asked with you two standing side by side, looking like you just finished sleeping on top of a giant summer barbeque grill.

You both looked at each other before turning back to your stern-looking father, Damian mirroring his expression with his arms crossed and tapping his feet.

"Would you believe us if we said it started over a debate of how to eat fries with ketchup?"

Bruce slapped his forehead to his palm while Damian called you idiots. Tim got that curious look on his face, and Dick couldn't stop laughing for 15 minutes.

Now, your eldest brother, he was definitely someone you could count on no matter what. Being the oldest and having the most Bruce experience out of everyone, he always helped you deal with your Brucie problems or ‘daddy issues’ as you'd like to say.

Truth be told, every kid in this family had daddy issues.

As mentioned before, Dick was your movie-watching buddy, he helped you with your homework and always assisted with any life issues you had going on. No matter how many times you may have threatened the Nightwing persona with such, you always went to him for advice, and there was never really a moment you could think of where you regretted it.

He also helped you learn how to be more agile and light on your feet with your fighting. While your second eldest brother taught you how to use brute force and strength in situations, he gave you the acrobatic style of lessons. Where Bruce and Jason were direct and serious, Dick taught and showed you how to be more of the opposite.

And, whenever Jason wasn't around to get Damian off your back, you'd go to him since he was basically his second dad.

You and Dick together were like two chatty Cathys on drugs. One moment, you could be talking about the movie you were watching, then you’d get into a debate over onion rings vs french fries, somehow landing in politics, somehow ending up in a political debate only to end with the "Are we even real" conversation. And for whatever reason, you swore you could hear Tim itching in his seat whenever that conversation came up.

That boy goes down a lot of YouTube rabbit holes at 2 AM when he’s bored on patrol or not doing anything.

Now, one brother on their own was one thing. Two? Someone was calling the police. Three and you may have to check if your life insurance policy is still good. All four? Pray.

Since you now were officially the youngest, a title Damian was actually happy to pass on despite his warnings to Bruce, that meant you got the most of the teasing, even if it mostly came from your blood-related sibling. But his version of teasing tended to leave you with trips to your therapist so you could do without them.

However, one rule all your siblings and family stuck by, no one, and I mean NO ONE, not even in the Justice League or Titans/Young Justice teams, could mess or pick with you except them.

Everyone in the family was very protective over you. You were surprised to see even Alfred was on that list, though you learned quickly the butler was not one to be fucked with.

You distinctly remember that one time the Batcave got invaded and Batman made you hide in one of the saferooms, you saw on one of the video monitor screens Alfred whacking the shit outta them with just a rifle.

For that reason, among others, you took a mental note to be careful with how you complimented his cooking in the future.

But seriously, if anyone messed with you, and your family found out, Hell itself would be scared of what would break loose from your home.

A bully from school started picking on you and calling you names and you didn't tell your brothers about it, wanting to handle it on your own. Besides, you could defend yourself. They taught you well.

Until the fateful day you came out as gay, bi, pan, etc., and he called you names that your father wouldn't even repeat, and that man had the title of a playboy.

Well, word spread around the school and got back to Damian, who went back and told your other brothers.

By the next day, Dick had shredded every thread of that boy's confidence. Tim hacked the school files, got his address, and framed him for changing grades in the school. Jason used said address Tim got to pay a trip to the kid's place and shot bullet holes in all his clothes when no one was home. And well, let's just say Damian almost went to jail.

Of course, Bruce was pissed when he found out and had to intervene, but when Damian admitted the reason he nearly got arrested, your father upped his allowance.

Only God could imagine the terror that would unfold the day you started dating.

Oh, and they all call you babybird which you despise.

Don't even get me started on your sisters.

BONUS:

☀️ | Bat Family | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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susandsnell · 4 months

Note

Re anachronistic feminist characters, you are absolutely right and you should say it.

Maybe people who want to read "write women who sew" type stuff should just go do that instead of trying to make every single female character fit into their worldview. Because I don't want every character to be Eloise, I'm fine with variety, but a lot of people seem like they can't stand even one woman challenging gender norms.

No amount of faux progressive language will change the fact they sound like highschool bullies picking on girls who are too GNC or too "weird."

Thank you so much! Ideally, you'd have feminist characters more representative of the feminist or proto-feminist views of their era where the work is going for historical accuracy to honour the different points of where we were in history and also acknowledge the flaws of the movement at different points in time (1994's Little Women versus the hilariously bad 2019 version comes to mind), and certainly there's an element of repetitiveness in this character type, but this is seldom if ever the criticism I see. The truth of the matter is that in fact many early feminists did denigrate work designated as feminine, but we can acknowledge this as misdirected anger at having one option deemed valid.

Instead, we've somehow arrived at "wanting to be treated with human dignity is internalized misogyny because it really cramps my ability to romanticize the past". As you say, nothing wrong with valuing the labour more frequently done by women, but the fact of the matter is you can do that and show that there were always many people who resisted or did not fit into the tight boxes that society forced them into. Instead of, you know, ridiculing them for wanting to break the boxes while enjoying the fruits of having to fit into fewer boxes than our predecessors precisely because of women who loudmouthed and fought back and didn't fit into certain people's fantasy of being a submissive little princess. The kind of girls you made fun of and ostracized in high school, one might say.

To address a particular point you raise that I think is the most important in this entire ongoing discussion:

No amount of faux progressive language will change the fact they sound like highschool bullies picking on girls who are too GNC or too "weird."

I keep saying it, but a certain type of liberal feminist are now using "NLOG" the way it was socially acceptable 10-15 years ago to call someone a lesbian/homophobic or transphobic slurs because they didn't wear makeup or want a boyfriend. It is absolutely high school bullying mentality and has gone from an imperfect attempt at addressing internalized misogyny to active misogyny and latent/often overt homophobia and transphobia.

This is what the numbskulls making video essay after video essay about the apparent 'NLOG crisis' fail to grasp. The Heathers and the Plastics are not 'demonized for being feminine', they are accurate representations of how under patriarchy, social capital is gained through strict, obsessive adherence to white, Western beauty standards (which corporations can profit off of endlessly by manufacturing infinite insecurities, so bonus to the rich girls) and excelling at heterosexuality and pleasing others, and this system self-reinforces by the 'winners' bullying those who do not conform as easily. Jo March, queercoded dynamo that she was, took nothing away from the sisters who were happier with more traditional lifestyles because she wanted better for herself and the girls of the future, and represents so many women who fought for just that. You're not actually an intellectual for thinking Daphne Bridgerton has more value than Eloise because she was designated the season's Diamond, a literal in-universe (and true to life) Prize For Being Correctly Female, and unquestioningly accepts being paraded around like an ornament and smiling at being auctioned off to the highest bidder while Eloise fought back, criticized, and wanted an education more than any boy until they forced heterosexuality upon her. You are in fact a vanguard of the very patriarchal system the franchise even presents as backwards, because you don't want anyone raining on your arranged marriage fantasies.

There is nothing, and I mean nothing feminist, about snarking girls who do not like or for whatever reason, cannot or will not perform conventional femininity.

There is a certain sour-grapes defensiveness that comes from beig ostracized and punished for Failing At Your Gender if you weren't good at what was expected of you/resisted it. Femininity is derided, but it is also imposed (the two work in tandem to oppress women); and if you fail at its imposition, it's natural to try and gain protection by participating in the derision. Hell, I theorize that people who proclaimed themselves "not like other girls" in the contemporary age often did so out of resistance at the fact that we're supposed to perform (cisheteronormative) sexiness from the time we hit our teens, and of course the panopticon self-reinforcement that is how Other Girls treat you if you, an adolescent girl, shirk performance of femininity in any way. Certainly, I've also read much about GNC girls (of various identities) and neurodivergent girls equally having turned to this, which makes sense, as they're frequently targets for such bullying.

I do also think - and have personally experienced - it was an often imperfect articulation of queerness in many cases. The societal ideal of women under a patriarchy is cisheteronormativity; our value is derived from our appeal to men, and from the time we start maturing, sexual availability and appeal to men is the highest virtue. Therefore, women whose sexuality is not limited to men - or heaven forbid, doesn't include them at all - 'fail' gender, and accordingly often feel a sense of alienation and ostracism from other girls when they don't get as excited about dating boys. Also, in many cases (anecdotal I admit from people I know, but still significant), people who had a phase of asserting they "weren't like other girls" were in the process of discovering that they weren't girls at all!

And in some cases - again, I've mentioned that I was an Eloise for all the handwringing about how girls of that era wouldn't say that or do that and it would never occur to want more than what they had (...okay, so why are things different now?) - it's a frustration from the outspoken feminists and reformers at not being able to get other girls on board with us, because deviation from expectation will make you the weirdo who gets punished and rejected because ugh, annoying! As one historical costuming youtuber I won't name so charmingly puts it in her godawful video essay, "the women who made a big show of fighting back were freaks." (Way to convince us you care about feminism...)

All this to say the anti-NLOG brigade have utterly worn out my patience, and at best seem ignorant of the battles that have won us the freedoms we have today because it's not fun to consider how your escapist fantasy might be problematic (understandable, you don't always have to reflect on this to be aware), and at worst? They're getting the chance to be the mean girl in high school again/that they never got to be, they're just dressing it up in the bastardized language of feminism.

#nlog #not like other girls #thank you for giving me the chance to rant lmao #you say it's internalized misogyny and then you call women who wore pants when it was fucking illegal to do so 'a freakshow'#terfs don't even think about touching you repulsive shitstains

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answer2jeff · 8 months

Text

fixer-upper. // lip gallagher

lip x biker-girl!OC

warnings : public sex, oral (m!receiving), praise kink, light to rough hair-pulling, unestablished relationship, intense and obvious flirting, porn with plot and detail, mentions of smoking (tobacco), cursing, OC is just as full of herself as Lip, knows she's a bitch, kinda has a weird sense of possessiveness over him?? clunky and overly detailed writing with a journaling/diary style.

authors note : trying something a little different! using the first person POV with an original character. first time writing this way—still getting the hang of it <3 this is REALLY long...sorry.

song : beauty school.

disclaimer : you can picture the OC however you like! her name is really just used for aesthetic purposes. there isn't much description on her appearance other than the fact that her hair is long enough to put it in a ponytail. enjoy!

Great. Fucking great.

One of my tires is punctured. The visor in my helmet is cracked. My elbows are etched with surface level scratches and dried blood. And the engine cover of my bike has finally snapped off. I had it coming. It was an old piece of rusty junk from my cousins garage sale from 2012, anyway. But it had charm. I knew I was gonna miss that bike for the good couple of hours, possibly days, I would reluctantly end up leaving it in a repair shop down the street from my apartment.

I can hear the squelch of skin, the seal between my hot breath and sweaty skin breaking as lift my helmet from my head. I hope to feel a rush of cool air, but the humidity tells me to go fuck myself. I'm pulled over onto the curb. I can't totally remember how I got there; being in the middle of the street on a scorching summer day wearing denim shorts that chafe up my inner thighs and rub my skin until it is raw and red and unbearably itchy, was not my vision for today. My handlebars are loose. That would explain it.

If I just take it to Born Free Cycles, leave it overnight, and come back in the morning, I can act like this whole thing never happened, and I'm not horribly irresponsible.

40th West View Ave.

Oh. I'm close actually. Barely a block away. I should go there now. I can call Mikey and have him drop me and the bike off at the garage. I'll see that kid with the grown out buzz-cut and black motor grease on his knuckles that somehow always transfers and blots on his face. Specifically on his strong jaw and right before the peak of his hairline. I wonder if he notices. Maybe he doesn't clean it off because it gives him edge that he doesn't need. Like the nickname on his name tag on a black uniform hadn't given his thirst for trouble away already. And the circles under his eyes are almost the same shade of smudged charcoal grey.

I wonder if he notices.

—

"So the engine cover popped? Just—" he shrugs, looking up at me as if I can't understand him "clean off?"

The sunlight bleeds in through the open garage door. It shines behind Lip, casting a shadow that makes his face hard to see perfectly. But I know the look he's conveying. His eyebrows are raised but drawn slightly closer together, his teeth are gnawing at the inside of his cheek so he can stifle a smile and the laugh that will follow soon after, and his blinks remain slow. I try not to smile too. But I fail.

I've only been here about 3 times, really. The first time was to get handlebar grips from Eddie. That was when I saw Lip. I chose not to make any kind of move, but it ate at my insides until the second time. That time was with Mikey. I was preoccupied with the blue-eyed kid, propped up on a workbench and throwing mindless flirty implications at him while he took long drags from a cigarette, to remember why Mikey was even doing there and why he dragged me along with him. His laugh, the playful eye-roll after I complimented his sweat-laden blonde curls weighed down by heat humidity, told me he was on board.

But I wasn't done.

I knew this time I'd pounce for what was mine.

"Yeah," I breathe out, crossing my arms and peering down at him, "And I mighta' been redlining the RPM a little too much. Probably fried the fucking thing."

Lip nods, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. He beckons his hand toward himself, telling me to kneel down beside him to inspect the bike. "This things kinda old, huh?" He teases, turning his head to me and finally letting a real smile break. It warms something in me. I shrug. He glances at my white tank-top, covered in black stains of dirt and oil.

"It's not great, no. It's a piece of shit. But it's cute!" I play along with him, taking the hairband on my wrist and twisting my hair into a high ponytail. Lip huffs though his nose, shaking his head and laughing again.

The next couple of minutes are filled with him telling me things I already know. Things I was too exhausted to manage on my own, defeating the whole purpose of why I was here. Fuck the bike. I know what's wrong with the bike. I know it's an old piece of junk and it's barely salvageable. You should know why I'm here. And maybe you do. But you should do something about it.

Lip has this way of speaking to me that feels ridiculously sweet and overly 'cool.' I know it's just his cadence and his cockiness, but I like it. I like that he thinks it makes me swoon. Partially because he's right, but mostly because I've mastered hiding it. He doesn't see my heart pound or the rising heat in my abdomen when he cracks his knuckles or puts a hand on my shoulder and let's it travel down to the small of my back when I crouch down beside him to look at another motorcycle he's trying to save. I'm almost certain he convinces himself that my gestures are nothing more than a meaningless flirt. I simply find him attractive, as does everyone. Nothing more.

But he's got it all wrong.

He knows my intentions somewhat well enough to the point where he can't not flirt back, though. He knows I haven't stopped him from letting his eyes travel from mine to my lips whenever I speak. He likes that I let him light my cigarettes for me. But he doesn't know this isn't just for fun. I'm so hyper-aware that it isn't out of the kindness of his heart. And neither are his compliments and lame jokes he makes to impress me. He treats my attraction to him as fact, but my genuine interest as a possibility.

Again, he's wrong.

I can't wrap my head around how he could reciprocate my efforts without ever pushing the envelope and asking to exchange numbers, or if I had a boyfriend, or maybe he had one of his own. No, no. He'd tell me if he had a girlfriend. He is, above all else, loyal.

Lip's what I want. I meant when I said his hair looked nice. I meant when I gave him a 20-dollar gratuity and a peck on his cheek just for giving me a repair cost estimate on my shattered headlight. I smile any time he says my name: Maeve.

Hey Maeve, back so soon, huh?

Hand me that box, Maeve.

Y'alright, Maeve?

Yo, Maeve, wanna bum one?

Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

—

"Think you'll be back tomorrow to pick it up? No rush, though. I can keep it 'till you're ready," Lip asks me, leaning against the wooden workbench littered with microfiber towels and tools. His swell arms are crossed to his chest. I nod, coating my fingertips with a thin film of spin while I fish out some cash from my beat up faux leather wallet.

"A-huh. Thanks," I hand him 6 twenties before glancing at the opening of his button-down uniform.

The corner of my mouth lifts itself into a knowing smirk, my hand on my hip as I shift my weight to it, making my chest stick out and my spine bend correspondingly. My lips hang open a measly centimeter apart before I draw the bottom one between my teeth. I watch him sort through the cash, biting down harder on the flesh of my lip when he freezes.

"Looks like you're a good 15 short," he barely mumbles, looking up at me through his eyelashes. His brows narrow down to me again. I click my tongue coyly. I step closer to him, my hand, with fingernails painted black, pushing the cash in his palms down and his arms down with it.

"About that..." I pause, tilting my head with a look of naivety and not bothering to push away the strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail and over my eye. Instead, I wait and let Lip set the pile of cash down and draw the curtain of my hair open to reveal my face. My stomach twists on itself, and I can practically feel his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath in my own lungs.

I beg to whatever higher power lies above us in this garage that a kiss will work. Not that it usually doesn't, but my form isn't as confident as it typically would be. The guys I wrap around my finger aren't as driven as Lip is. And God, none of them are part of my tantalizing daydreams nearly as often as he is. I picture his rough hands exploring me, squeezing and rubbing over the valleys of my skin. I imagine his breath is hot with the taste of mint and cigarettes. Every part of me wants to know if my predictions are accurate. If he's the type to sink his teeth into my neck and shoulder blades just to apologize to the reddening skin with open-mouthed kisses. The anticipation kills me. It's enough to swallow me whole.

"...Maybe I can pay you back a different way?"

I barely whisper and Lip scoffs, glancing away from my gaze, scanning the area just for it to be completely empty. He comes back to me. His eyes go a little wider than before. Almost to say, 'oh shit, you're serious?' I stick my tongue between my teeth and tug on his uniform, feeling the fabric rub between my sweaty fingertips. My eyes watch Lip's adam's apple bob as he swallows a breath.

"Yeah?" He thumbs my bottom lip and pulls it down, his free hand traveling down to my hip and pulling me closer to him, "what were y'thinking, Maeve?"

"Mmmm," I hum while pressing my hand against his chest while the other cups his cheek, and I let the pad of my thumb graze over the grove of his defined cheekbones. "Dunno yet."

My teasing is much to Lip's dismay, but he handles it quite well. It's sobering to see a guy as seemingly self-involved and easily impressed play into my mind games. It only pushes me further, and he knows it. I crash my lips into his, my hands anchoring themselves on his shoulders for support. He sighs into me, a hand reaching down to hook a finger through the belt loop of my shorts and drag me closer to him. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into his mouth to let his tongue slip past my own. And he tastes just as I expected. Minty, smoky, and mine. I practically grind my self onto him in complete desperation, feeling him harden under me. Every roll of his hips threatens to send me over the edge. And fuck, his muffled groans of pleasure against my mouth that ring in my ears are hypnotic. But even with his sturdy, growing buldge forcing the fabric of my shorts to press roughly on my clit, I need this to last.

Blissfully and ever so slowly.

I finally pull away to catch my breath, the buck of our waists slowing down. My head feels fuzzy and heat rises in my cheeks when I open my eyes to see how flushed Lip's face is. Even the tips of his ears have turned a little red. I smile, giggling like a teenager who just kissed her crush in a closet at a house party as a dare. He laughs back in a way that asks 'what are we even doing?'

"Thought you had a boyfriend."

I pause, my eyebrows knitted. I try to think of who he could possibly be referring to.

Ah.

"Who? Mikey?" I try not to laugh, looking around to the imaginary audience to check if they're really hearing this nonsense too, "ew, no. He's like my brother."

Lip lets out a breath of relief he almost didn't realize he'd been holding. It surprises me. Probably a lot more than it should. But hey, for the other 3 times I've been here, I kept asking myself why his flirting was just as intense as mine, but he never asked for my number or made a true move on me. To think that my friend had been unintentionally cockblocking me with his ridiculous height and horrid American traditional tattoos all over his arms, and it wasn't because the guy had a girlfriend...it's almost funny.

"Oh," he replies, his eyebrows raising. Now both of his hands rest at my hips.

"What? Is that why you left me hangin' when I did this?" I press a kiss against his cheek, my palm rubbing over his shoulder to pull a chuckle out of him.

"I guess so, yeah. Just didn't want him to kill me for getting to close t'you," he kisses my cheek, smiling again.

"Geez. Mikey wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. He just...looks scary. Plus, nobody tells me what to do."

"Noted. Glad to hear that, actually."

"Mikey is—" I pause, biting the inside of my cheek "a sweet guy."

"Uh-huh."

"Too sweet. And I hate the aftershave he uses. He's—he's entirely too much."

"Mm."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," he shrugs, trying and failing to act clueless.

Fuck. He's fucking glad. He's glad I don't have a stupid-waste-of-my-time-cockblocking-boyfriend on my hip who's constantly watching my every move and stopping me from giving all of myself to Lip. Hell, I'm glad too. Very glad. With one swift movement, I take matters into my own hands again. I undo every last plastic button on his uniform, snaking down his chest and abdomen. I latch onto his neck, biting the skin and sucking a bruising hickey. He shivers beneath me and wraps his hand around my ponytail, huffing breathless chuckles and slowly getting more and more frustrated with my agonizingly slow, torturing pace for foreplay.

I bend my knees to begin my descend to the ground, kissing down his torso. My hands travel down his sides. Lip gently lets go of my hair to lean back into the workbench, never letting his head reel back so he can carefully watch me tenderly adhere to his needs while anchoring his hands behind him for support. I giggle to myself, relishing in the affect I have on him.

Shit. This is risky. Screw it. Pretty girl without a boyfriend who tips in 20 dollar bills and blowjobs? How could I say no? No part of me wants to back out, Lip's mind races, his grip tightening on the wooden slab as he clenches his jaw.

I wonder if he's nervous. Or maybe he's done this time and time again: fucking a girl right in this garage. Possibly bent over this very work bench. Those girls must've been so easy. I can bet on my life that they were never as fun, never as wet, never as needy as me. This would be different. I wouldn't give him everything he wanted and more that quickly. A girl deserves to have her fun. She deserves to watch the overly confident guy she's fancied for weeks, who continues to play hard to get, squirm and writhe with every slight of hand she gives him.

And that's exactly what I'm doing.

"Y'having fun down there?" Lip chastises me, chuckling lightly to himself as he tilts his head down to get a better look at my face.

My kisses stop right above the waistband of his jogger pants. I look up at him pleadingly through my lashes, my eyes big with lust and cunning seduction. I pull the middle of the waistband down just so I can drag my tongue across the exposed skin just centimeters away from his cock. The curls of his happy trail tickle my chin, but the full body shiver and the shaky exhale of "fuck," as he tries to keep his composure, makes it so worth it. He finally shuts his eyes, head reeling back. I lick my lips and smile, cupping his groin before he can even think about looking back down and feeling the blood rush to his cock again. His twitching dick underneath my palm sends me sitting on my heel, ready to slowly rock my hips down into it to fill my desperate need for friction. My cotton panties are definitely soaked.

I can't waste any more time.

I remove my hand from his crotch and quickly pull his pants and his boxers down with them. They pool at his ankles, and his cock strains hard and leaking sticky, crystal clear pre-cum from the thick and aching tip. My mouth nearly drops. I admire every vein, letting my hand wrap around the base of his cock once I've spit into it as makeshift lubricant. I'm so lost that I don't even register Lip peering down at me, swallowing impatiently.

"My, you're so worked up, Lip. And I haven't even started." I don't bother to look up at him as I rub my hand up and down his shaft, worried his pretty face will distract me. But I can picture him perfectly.

"Fuck you," he huffs through a struggled laugh, covering his mouth as he groans in pleasure at the feeling of my hand squeezing his cock every once and a while as I slowly pump him up and down.

"Later," I retort. I bite down on my bottom lip, looking up at him again for permission. He nods, almost as if he's able to read my mind. My eyes shut and my stomach flutters. Soft lips cover the head, swirling my tongue over the slit. His tip leaves my mouth with a loud pop, and I lick a bold stripe along the thickets vein I can find.

"Jesus, fuck, Maeve!" He writhes, his breath hitched in his throat by me hollowing out my cheeks and taking nearly 3/4 of his total length into my mouth. Moans of pure bliss at the feeling of his cock enveloped by the wet warmth of my mouth echo through the garage. I fear he's too loud, but I decide not to care. Not now.

My hand pumps the rest of his cock that I don't fit into my mouth at the moment, while my free hand reaches for his. My eyes remain closed and my sucking maintains a steady pace as I bob my head up and down his cock. I grab his hand and set it on the top of my head, but he hesitates.

"W—you sure, Maeve? I don't wanna hurt you," he swallows, accidentally bucking his hips into my mouth and running his unoccupied hand through his sweaty curls. I detach myself from him, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from the corner of my mouth and finally looking up at him.

"You won't," I take a deep breath, "I won't let you. I'll tell you if 's too much, kay?"

"Okay. Maybe just—" he clears his throat "tap my leg 3 times? And I'll...uh—I'll let go? Yeah?" He looks beautiful. Flushed, bare, and oh so needy for my touch. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He's so compliant, so understanding. But part of me knows that once I let him do this, it'll show me the side of him I've really been praying to see.

I nod, smiling contently and feeling myself blush when he twirls his fingers around my ponytail again. He bends over just the smallest bit to cup my chin and smile back. The pad of his thumb grazes over my skin before he lets go. I take it as my sign to go back, pressing my hands against either of his thighs and feeling clit jump with excitement when Lip tugs at my hair the moment I take his cock into my mouth again. I bob my head up and down, my eyes rolling back when his tip hits the back of my throat. Tears prick at my waterline as I struggle not to cough.

I grow even more desperate. My hand dives into my shorts and I slide two of my fingers inside of me, unfortunately never living up to the potential size and feeling of Lip's. The continuous ram into my gummy and tender spot causes me to fall apart, whining with his dick occupying the space in my mouth.

"Oh my God," Lip nearly whines, his grip tightening as he guides my head up and down his dick, but it's so gentle it never startles me, "so fuckin' good, baby. Jesus, fu—ah..keep doin' that. Yes, fuck.."

My tongue swishes over and under his cock in mind-numbing patterns, and I can't help but let little muffled moans escape my throat and vibrate against him. He almost can't contain himself: bucking his hips and practically fucking my throat. I do my best to cancel out the occasional gag so quickly he won't feel guilty and possibly stop.

Use me, I think.

Usually, I'd take the lead, never letting a head pusher take the role. But not this time. Lip's so pent up, so stressed with the complexities of his life. This is a kind gesture. One that involves tears of struggle spilling out of my eyes and streaming down ky cheeks. But fuck, I love it. It's filthy. It's nasty the way I nearly suck him dry. I can't remember the last time a blowjob was this fun.

"Such a good girl. Y'know that?" He looks down at me, biting his lip as his eyebrows knit in pleasure and desperate need to cum down my pretty little throat, "how'd you get so fuckin...so fuckin' good at this, baby? Shit—feels so good."

He babbles over and over again, and I'm taking strategic breaths through my nose and speeding the pace of my fingers as they thrust in and out of me so I don't stop him from releasing the way he absolutely deserves. Finally, he pulls my ponytail tighter than he ever has, warning me that he's about to cum, but by the time he tells me, it sends down my throat. He groans out, releasing my hair and going limp. I swallow the salty substance, blinking out the last few tears in my eyes and sliding my fingers out of me.

—

Lip: 1 message.

Hey. 11:47pm

Hey. Miss me already? 11:52pm

Something like that, yeah. 11:56pm

What's up 11:58pm

I get off early tomorrow. Just wondering if you wanted to come by the shop and hang out for a bit? 11:59pm

Sure. See you then. xoxo 12:03am.

—

current taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

#lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #shameless x OC #lip gallagher x reader smut #lip gallagher x oc smut #shameless #shameless x reader #jeremy allen white #i hope you guys like this!!!#tried really hard with this new style

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