#i hated it at first but it grew on me with how well it captures Kuzco's emotions and how he talks like a real teenage boy

[theemperorsnewfanblog]

unpopular take: Kuzco's new school voice >>> his movie voice

[hurtblossom]

When we grow old ln4

Pairing : Lando Norris x Female!reader

Summary: Interviewer asks you how you see your relationship in the future, and your answer leaves everyone speech less.

Warning: Fluff, people being disgustingly in love, bad english.

This is based of an interview i watched on tiktok, and on Kylie's and Travis's video on GQ

masterlist

Lando and Y/N had been together for almost a year now. From the moment they met, it was as if the universe had aligned just for them. They spent nearly every moment they could together, whether at his apartment or hers. Y/N never missed a race, always there in the stands or watching anxiously from the paddock, her heart swelling with pride. She was his biggest supporter, not just on the track but in every aspect of his life.

For Y/N, Lando was everything she had ever dreamed of in a partner. She was convinced that he was her soulmate, the one she was meant to spend her life with. Nothing and no one could make her believe otherwise. Lando wasn’t shy about showing his love for her either. He spoke about her with a tenderness that made everyone around him smile. Whenever he had the chance to mention her, he did, his eyes lighting up with every word. He defended her fiercely whenever someone had something negative to say about her or their relationship. Y/N was deeply in love with him, and every day, she hoped that he felt the same way.

When Y/N received an invitation to join Lando for an interview, she was genuinely surprised. She wasn’t accustomed to the spotlight; her world had always been more private. Although she had social media, most of her followers were there because of Lando.

And so, she found herself seated in a chair across from him, a gentle hum of anticipation in the air. Someone adjusted the mic on her shirt, making sure her voice would be captured clearly. As she sat there, waiting for the cameras to start rolling, she stole a glance at Lando. He looked at her with that familiar warmth, the kind that made her feel like she was the only person in the room.

"Hey everyone, I’m Lando, and this is my girlfriend Y/N. We’re here with GQ, ready to answer some questions about our relationship," Lando began, his smile wide and genuine, the kind that made Y/N’s heart skip a beat.

“So, first question: how did we meet?” Y/N read aloud from a card she had been given before the interview. She looked at Lando, a playful glint in her eye. “Do you want to answer that?”

“Yeah.” Lando smiled softly at her, his gaze full of affection. “For those who don’t know, Y/N here is McLaren’s official Social Media Manager. She started working with the team about a year and a half ago, and yeah, I met her during her very first meeting with us, and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

“That’s correct, Mister Norris,” Y/N said, her tone light but filled with pride. Lando raised his hand for a high five, and she gladly met it.

“Okay, my turn. What was our first date, and what was our last? And which one did you enjoy the most?” he asked, tossing the flashcard behind him with a playful grin.

“Our first date was when you took me out to an Italian restaurant. You dressed all fancy,” she laughed, her eyes sparkling at the memory. “And the last one was two days ago; we went to your yacht and just sat there, watching the sunset.” Her voice softened, a smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t pick which one I preferred; honestly, every moment with you feels like a blessing.”

Lando’s smile grew tender. “That’s really sweet, baby.”

“Okay, next question!” Y/N announced with a playful energy that made Lando chuckle. “What are three things you love and hate about each other?”

“Well, that one’s easy,” Lando replied instantly. “I love your smile, your eyes, and your laugh. They light up my world. As for the three things I hate… I’d have to say your impatience, how easily you get mad, and the fact that you hold grudges.”

“That was quick,” Y/N said, raising an amused eyebrow. “I guess it’s my turn. So, I love your determination—how you never give up on what you do, even when it seems impossible. I love that you have a big heart and wear it on your sleeve. And your eyes… you have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen, and I could get lost in them forever. Now, for the things I hate: you tend to take things too personally, you can be just a tad too flirty, and… your sense of humor.”

“My sense of humor? What’s wrong with it?” he asked, feigning shock.

“You’re just not that funny, baby,” Y/N teased, shrugging playfully, her eyes twinkling with affection.

Lando laughed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright, I’ll work on my jokes.”

Y/N picked up the next flashcard. “Here’s a good one: What’s something surprising you’ve learned about me since we started dating?”

Lando paused for a moment, thinking. “Honestly, I think the most surprising thing I’ve learned is just how incredibly strong you are. I mean, I always knew you were tough, but seeing how you handle everything—whether it’s work stress, being in the public eye, or supporting me through all the ups and downs—has been amazing. You never let anything break you, and that’s something I admire so much.”

Y/N felt her heart swell with emotion. “Thank you, Lando. That means a lot coming from you.”

She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady as she read the next question. “What’s your favorite memory of us together?”

“That’s a tough one,” Lando said, smiling as he reminisced. “But I think it would have to be that weekend we spent in the countryside, just the two of us. No cameras, no phones, no distractions—just us. We went hiking, had a picnic by the lake, and at night, we watched the stars. It was simple, but it was perfect. It was one of those moments where I just felt… complete.”

Y/N nodded, her eyes misty with tears. “I remember that weekend. It was beautiful.”

Lando reached out, taking her hand in his. “We should do that more often—just escape from everything and be together.”

“Definitely,” Y/N agreed, squeezing his hand. “Okay, here’s the next question: What’s something you wish we could do together in the future?”

Lando thought for a moment before answering. “I’d love for us to travel more, see the world together. There are so many places I want to explore with you, and I think it would be amazing to share those experiences. But more than that, I just want us to keep building a life together, no matter where we go.”

Y/N smiled softly. “That sounds perfect.”

“Alright, last question,” Lando said, his tone growing more serious. “And this one’s just for you, Y/N: how do you see this relationship evolving?”

Y/N took a deep breath, her heart beating a little faster as she thought about the future. “Oh, that’s a hard one. How do I see this relationship evolving? Well, first of all, I’d like for us to stay together, to grow old… without sounding like a complete psycho,” she began, her voice wavering slightly with emotion.

“You’re fine; go on,” he encouraged her, his eyes never leaving hers, filled with a deep, unwavering love.

“If one day we end up on different paths—and I really hope that never happens, because seriously, you���re everything to me—I know I won’t want anyone else,” she said, her voice soft but sincere. “But if life does pull us apart, I don’t want us to hate each other or lose all the good memories we made. I want you to remember me with a smile, and I’ll always wish you the best, because I’d never want anything bad for you. You’re my first real love, Lando, and what we have is something I know I’ll never feel with anyone else.”

She paused for a moment, her heart racing as she took a deep breath. “So, with that said,” she added with a little laugh, “let’s just agree to never break up, okay? Because honestly, that would be super awkward and totally heartbreaking for both of us.”

Her words hung in the air, filled with the raw, honest emotion of young love, and Lando couldn’t help but smile at her attempt to lighten the mood, even though he knew how deeply she meant every word.

He was quiet for a moment, letting her words sink in. He looked at Y/N, his eyes filled with love and something deeper—determination.

“GQ, I think we’re done here,” Lando finally said, his voice steady but with a clear edge of emotion. “Because what I have to say now, I want her to know it’s real.”

He turned to Y/N, taking her hands in his as if grounding himself in the moment. “You’ve always been the one for me, Y/N. From the very beginning, I knew there was something about you that I couldn’t let go of, and that hasn’t changed. Hearing you talk about different paths… it scares me, because I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it.”

He paused, his thumb tracing gentle circles on the back of her hand. “But I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’m not just in love with you; I’m committed to us. I’m committed to making sure that we keep growing together, facing whatever life throws our way. I can’t promise that everything will be perfect, but I can promise that I’ll always fight for us.”

Lando’s voice softened, his gaze never leaving hers. “You’re my first love, Y/N, and I want you to be my last. I want to share every moment, every milestone, and every challenge with you. I want us to look back one day, gray and wrinkled, and say, ‘We did this together.’ Because you’re it for me. You always have been, and you always will be.”

He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, letting the moment linger. When he pulled back, there was a quiet intensity in his eyes, a promise unspoken but deeply felt.

“So let’s stop worrying about different paths,” he whispered, “and focus on the one we’re on, together. Because I’m not letting go, not now, not ever.”

the end

plot twist : he cheated, so they broke up... men 🍵 (jk😞)

[gay-dorito-dust]

I saw the Dad! Stanley, could you make the Dad! Stanford one? Like how his reaction come back after 30 years saw Reader already become responsible adult

-🐈‍⬛

Ford kept a picture of you -his life’s greatest achievement- in his pocket at all times during his time in the multiverse, reminding him of who he had waiting for him back home when he felt as though he was at his limit.

Being a father was never on the docket but the moment you entered his life he dedicated himself to raising you as best as he could, even going so far as to do extensive amounts of research in preparation for any and every vital moment of your life.

You had became a pivotal part of his life and made everything he did even more important for he was doing it for you and the future you’d live in. He wanted you to grow up prepared for anything and everything life would throw at you, along with how to handle yourself for the inevitable day where he couldn’t be with you anymore. (He hates it as much as you did)

He commemorates everything you did and dedicated parts of his journals to you and your growth or things that you did that made him laugh. (You wore his coat once and Ford was fighting the demons within him known as cuteness aggression because of how it swamped your tiny form.)

An excerpt:

‘They look at me like I’m something and I’m worried that one day they’ll grow up and not view me as such when they see what I’ve done when they slept soundly in their crib, but all I do, I do for them.’

However this desire to watch you grow and be apart of your important developmental stages would be cut short when he fell into the portal when you were just 8 years old.

His last words before the portal closed entirely to Stanley were: ‘no! Y/n! I haven’t done everything I’ve wanted to do with them yet! Go trick or treating with them on Summerween! Go Fishing! Watch them grow up! Stanley, don’t leave them alone, they really hate being alone!’

And raise you Stanley did as he would try his hardest to keep your memory of Stanford alive and well, thinking it was the best he could do after accidentally taking his brother from you. He’d even make a whole album for when Ford comes back from the day he fell into the portal.

Stanley didn’t miss a single moment to capture you doing something adorable (dressed up as a paranormal detective for the summerween he took you out on) or similar to Ford himself (becoming curious about about the mystery of Gravity falls after an incident with a bunny demon and even making a series of journals yourself)

Stanley made sure to capture every little thing he could from you helping him run the shack, to you making your first friends, your little experiments on how much food Soos could stuff in his face without getting full. Which was fun until he always threw up.

You were so much like Ford it hurt Stanley to look at you sometimes because all he could see was his brother in you that he had to look away sometimes, and he knew that Ford would be so fucking proud of the person you grew up to be but also knew that he would hate himself for not being there for it all.

So when the day came when Ford finally retired home, his first words as he stepped out of the portal were; ‘where’s y/n?’

Dipper, Mabel, Soos and Stanley could only watch as you, a full grown adult of 38, stepped forward with tears in your eyes when meeting face to face with the man who raised you before his brother took over, reaching out to him whispering ‘dad?’

Ford was shocked to say the least when he looked over at this adult calling him dad, only for his brain to work fast and connect the dots as he pulls out the picture of you as a child from his coat pocket and made the connection that you and the smiling child in the picture he held close to his heart were one in the same.

You were now all grown up and he wasn’t there to see it happen with his own eyes, something that broke his heart into a million pieces knowing that he never got the chance to see it himself! The coat that hung off of your frame was his, he could clearly tell but it didn’t swamp your form like it use to, it suited you and the makeshift journal Ford saw you had clutched in your hand and knew you were his child in more ways then one.

You had his curiosity and his need to understand the unknown to great but sometimes dangerous depths, god he missed you so fucking much, his sweet child and his sweet child you’ll always will be in his eyes as he watched as you quickly walked towards him and hugged his frozen form tightly as you wept in his shoulder.

‘Dad.’ You said. ‘I’m all grown up.’

Ford chuckled weakly as he too found himself unable to keep the tears at bay, ‘I can see that sweetie pie,’ he said as he held you tightly against him. ‘I’m so sorry I wasn’t here to see it.’ He adds knowing that this will be one of his life regrets until the day he died, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t use this time to catch up with you and learn all about you all over again.

‘It’s okay.’ You reassured him, clinging onto him as though he’d disappeared again. ‘It’ll give me an excuse to talk your ear off about all my expeditions, my theories and my thoughts on everything that’s been going off here.’

‘They really are cut from the very same cloth as you.’ Stanley told Stanford as he watched you tuck Dipper and Mabel into bed that night. ‘They’re smart and even graduated from a prestigious college at the top of their class, they were even valedictorian just like you back in highschool, but they came back to gravity falls because they wanted to dedicated themselves to helping me in getting you back.’ He adds as Stanford looks at his twin with tears in his eyes.

‘And I wasn’t there to watch them walk across that stage…’ he mutters and Stanley pulls out a photo that he had taken during your graduation ceremony and gave it to Ford who could only smile weakly as he took you in. You had blossomed so much when he was away and it broke Ford even more when he realised that he knew little to nothing about you now.

‘I’m such a terrible father.’ He tells Stanley who grips him by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye.

‘Hey! You are not a terrible father, they love you so much that they stay up late at night trying to decipher you work in hopes of finding a lead so that they could have their father back in their life. So don’t you dare say that about yourself when they’ve nothing but miss their father for the past 30 years!’ Stanley scolded him just as you walked into the hallway after bidding dipper and Mabel goodnight.

You heard them but decided not to speak up about it, after all today had been quite emotionally exhausting and all you wanted to do was sleep. ‘I’m going to bed, good night dad, good night uncle Stan.’

‘Hold it you.’ Stanley said as he walked over to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead, pulling away as he smiled at you. ‘Night pipsqueak.’ You smiled back before looking over at Ford, wanting to go to him and Stan could see the conflict in your eyes and pushed you towards his twin before retreating to his room.

‘So I was thinking that we could go monster hunting…you know like father and child. I’ve been trying to track down this dragon like creature that’s said to live on the highest mountain of gravity falls since its conception.’ You said awkwardly as Ford smiled at you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

‘I’d be glad too sweetheart, you don’t have to ask me to spend time with you because I’ll always want to spend time with my child.’ He replied and you couldn’t help but smile widely as you hugged him tightly again. Needless to say you and Ford made up for lost time in quick succession as you both ran away from being burnt alive by the massive dragon that was originally thought to be a myth.

[shelbgrey]

I NEED some of those smutty/fluffy head cannons for that beautiful sexy hot cake of a man named Jackson, Plz Pookie!!!

Poison(Jackson Avery)

Paring: Jackson Avery x Sloan!Reader

Summary: ever since the hospital merge Jackson and y/n Sloan didn't get along and would often bit each heads off dispite the growing tension. Then one day they both snap in a unexpected way

Warrings: SMUT! Enemies to lovers Smut, unprotected sex, sorta hate sex.

A/n: I'll do you one better, Pookie, I'll give a whole damn story.

MasterList ML2

Jackson wasn't expecting to see her in the on-call room, but today wasn't his day. Deep down he didn't mean to scowl when he saw her, but after losing his patient, Mark and his mother being on his ass he just wasn't in the mood. He wasn't even in the mood to make a sind comment when he see saw her. He just rolled his eyes and sinp out a comment “Great, just what I needed!”

Jackson and y/n have been working together for a while now and they could never stand each other. Everyone could see that, but everyone(aside from Jackson and y/n) could see the sexual tension that grew stronger every day.

She looked up from the chart she was studying and roll her eyes and got up from the bed. Her day hadn't been the greatest either and she had a long day. She wasn't on the mood to deal with him. “don't worry I was just leaving” she frowned and grab her lab coat that was crumbled up on a chair.

He looked almost amused as he watches the fire grown in the eyes he secretly loved. “Seriously, why do you always have to be so difficult?” He walks towards her, his body language aggressive, but still controlled by his emotions.

She took a deep breath and walked around him. “Seriously, Avery I'm not in the mood”

“I can see that. What's got you all riled up?” His voice drips with sarcasm as he steps infront of her, blocking the exit of the on-call room.

“Don't patronize me, we all know you hate me... Just as much as I hate you” that wasn't true, she didn't hate him. But she wasn't about to get used or her heart broke by him.

He stops, looking down at her, anger and jealousy clear in his eyes. “Fine, let's play it your way. If you hate me so much, maybe we should just get it over with” He steps closer.

She immediately back up until my back hits the wall of the on-call room, her heart is pounding. “g-get what o-over with?” I stuttered.

He smirks, taking another step closer. “I think you know...” his beautiful eyes stared into her soul as stepped closer, leaving nothing more than an inch between them. “You always know how to push my buttons.” He leans both palms against the wall, trapping her between him and the hard surface.

Her breath hitches as she stared at him with doe eyes. “the feeling is mutual Avery” she said, trying to stand my ground. Jackson smirked, capturing her chin between his thumb and pointer finger. “which part?”

Jackson chuckles the dryly and grabs her wrists, pinning them above her head. “oh, I do know... since we're both feeling it, we might as well do something about it.”

She suprised herself when she did't fight him, she stood still and watch him as her heart pounded against her chest “Avery...what are you doing?”

“His face is inches from hers as he leans in, his breath hot on herskin. “I'm taking what's mine.” he said roughly then he crashes his lips against hers in a possessive, demanding kiss.

Her breath hitched and her eyes widened at the unexpected contact. She pull away, staring into his beautiful eyes with determination. “you don't own me, I'm not yours to take”

He grabs her chin, forcing her gaze back to his. “Oh, but you are, and I plan to prove it.” He kisses her again, harder this time, his anger and jealousy fueling the intensity. Her lips smashed against his, it was fueled with all her frustration. The first moan of this whole situation fell passed her lips as she felt his tounge brush against her lips demanding entrance. Feeling brave she doesn't, closing her lips denying it entrance.

He groans against her lips, his hands traveled down her waist to her ass, gripping it hard. She gasped at his roughness, giving him the opportunity to slip his tounge passed her lips. Their tounges fought for dominance, but she let Jackson win. As he deepens the kiss. His anger and jealousy start to mix with desire.

Y/n gripped his scrub top in her fist and and pushed him towrds the bed in the on-call room with force. Jackson stumbles back slightly, hitting the bed. His heart is racing as he looks at her. “You really want this?” He asks, his voice rough from the kissing.

“Shut up” she said roughly and stratled his lap, slamming her lips to his for a rough kiss.

Taken completely by surprise, Jackson groans into the kiss. His hands roam down her sides to her ass, pulling her body flush against his. “You're going to regret this when we're done” Jackson murmurs against her lips.

“Probably” she whispered then nipped as his jaw as she pushed him flat on his back on the bed.

“Fuck” He groans, his head falling back against the pillow. His hands slided his large hands under your lab coat, gripping her hips. Y/n quickly tugged her lab coat off and drop on the floor, his breath hitched as he watched her grind her hips against his.

“Fuck, Jackson” she moaned his first name for the first as she grind her hips a little hared. She let a moan slip past her lips when his growing erection pressed against her core.

Jackson groans, arching into her. His hands roam down your his, cupping her ass through her scrubs. “Fuck, I want you” he growls, biting his lip.

Jackson sat up, keeping her trapped in his lap as his lips trail kisses down her jaw and neck. His hands move to the hem of her scrub top, tugging it over her head. “I've dreamed about this for so long.” He whispers, grabbing her hips to control her movements against him.

“M-me too” she accidentally admitted.

His fingers brush against her bra, tracing circles against her clothed nipple with his thumb. “Then stop fighting me” He growls, capturing her lips once more in a hungry kiss.

“What's the fun in that?” she asked breathlessly as her fingers play with his short hair.

He chuckles against her skin, the sound vibrating deliciously. His hands slide underneath her scrub bottoms, caressing her ass. “You're going to be the death of me, you know that?” He teases, his lips trailing down her callorbone to the top of her breasts.

She bit her bottom lips so didn't give him the satisfaction off hearing her moan. She huffed, tugging at his scrub top, wanting it off. Feeling the tug on his scrub top, Jackson smirks against the skin of her breasts before pulling back slightly. “Impatient, aren't we?” He teases, helping to remove his scrub top, revealing his toned torso.

She gulped when she saw his chest, her eyes traveled down his toned torso and bit her lip again, stopping a moan as her hands instinctively traveled down his chest.

“slower,” he sighs, loving her delicate touch. His lips trail kisses up your neck, stopping at your ear. “Take your time.” He whispers, his hips pressing against her's again.

Her finger traveled down his chest slowly till she found the drawl strings of his scrub pants. He groans, arching into her touch. He moans as he watches her hands undo the strings and slide the pants down, freeing his cock. “You're so fucking sexy,” he whispers.

“you're driving me crazy,” he growls, his hands trailing down her sides, pushing her pants along with her underwear off. He discarded them then slides off the bed, pulling his boxers off. He climbs back on top of her, his erection pressing against her slick core. “Tell me to stop”

She shook my head no as pulled him down for a kiss. “Good girl” He whisperes, kissing her deeply. His hips start to rock against her, making he moan. He slowly pushing into her tight heat. He kisses down her jaw and a crossed her collarbone, sucking lightly as he continues to thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” he breathes, his eyes locked on hers. His thrusts become faster, harder, as he loses control. “You're mine,” he growls, biting her bottom lip.

She wrap her legs around his waist, pulling him closer against her. “s-so good” she moaned an incomplete sentence, too distracted by the way he feels against her.

“I'm going to make you scream my name” he warns, his eyes burning with lust. He picks up the pace, driving deeper into her wet heat. His body shudders with the effort to hold back as he feels her clenching around him.

“Harder, Jackson... Please” she moaned desperately.

“Fuck” he hisses, slamming into her over and over again. His mouth finds her neck, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses as he loses control. He groans her name as he feels his impending release, his hips bucking wildly.

“jackson!” she screamed against his shoulder as she bucked he hips up, trying to meet his thrusts. He cries out as well, his entire body tenses, shooting his seed deep inside. He holds himself over her, panting. “Holy shit.” He groans out, his chest heaving as he struggles to catch his breath.

A loud moan leaves her lips as his climax ignited hers. She held onto his shoulders, cumming all over his cock “J-Jackson” she panted as held on to him.

Jackson kisses her softly, his heart still racing. Slowly, he pulls out of her, leaving a trail of their mixed fluids on his member. “God damn it,” he mutters, clearly frustrated with himself.

She look at him with a confused when she saw his expression. He runs a hand over his short hair, trying to calm himself down. He climed off the bed and slipped his boxers on. “I'm sorry. That was... I shouldn't have-” He trails off, not really sure how to finish that sentence.

Her heart crumbled. “I knew it” she mumbled, shaking her head. She had let her guard down and it was like he's already trying to hurt her. Did he hate her that much? This this all just a joke to him?

He saw the pain in her eyes. “No, baby,” he says, pulling her into a tight hug. His heart aches at the thought of hurting her. He knows he's messed up before, but he never meant to make her feel this way. He holds her close, breathing in her sweet scent.

She pushed him away gently. “don't call me that” she mumbled and quickly put her scrubs back on.

His heart sinks when he felt her push him away. He wasn't handling this well. He watches her put her scrubs back on silently, trying to maintain some semblance of distance between the two of them. “Look,” he starts, taking a deep breath.

“No! you got what you wanted” she started as tears pricked her eyes. “you can go back to hating me... I'm glad you got your frustration out” she gritted her teeth as the sarcastic comment fell out.

Jackson's eyes widen at her response, shocked by the harshness in her tone. He didn't expect her to react this way. “I... I didn't mean it like that,” he says, reaching out to touch her arm lightly. “I'm just...”

She shook her head as a single tear fell down her cheek. “J-just stop... Please” she whispered, shaking her head. She refused to look at him.

The sight of her tears only serves to further torment Jackson. He hates knowing he's the cause of her pain. But he also can't seem to control his jealousy. “Fine,” he snapped, having too much pride to tell he how he truly felt.

“I'm gonna go” she croaked out and grabed her lab coat, leaving.

As she walk away broken hearted, Jackson watches her, feeling a mixture of anger, frustration, and guilt. He knows he needs to deal with his jealousy before it destroys everything, but right now, it's consuming him. “God dammit,”

She quickly wipe away her tears and walk down the hospital hallway, trying to keep it together. Jackson remains where y/n left him, his fists clenched at his sides. He takes a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. This isn't like him – he's usually the one offering support, not causing pain.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

Mark continued to talk, but Jackson wasn't processing any of it. He felt too terrible about how things ended with y/n, even worse he didn't know how to tell his best friend who just happened to be y/n big brother. Mark stopped and looked at him. “Avery, are you even listening?”

Jackson quickly looked up. “hm? Oh yeah... Burn unit right?”

Mark raised an eyebrow, he couldn't help but chuckled. “your way off... What's eatin' you?”

Jackson knew he'd be dead where he stands if he told mark the truth. “nothing”

Mark put his hand on Jackson's chest, stopping him in the middle hallway. “your distracted... What's going on with you?”

Jackson pushed his hand away and looked way, shaking his head. Mark caught sight of a red mark on his neck. Mark chuckled, grabbing Jackson's chin and turned his head to the side to see the hickey on his neck. “so you got laid and it ended badly, so what”

Jackson gulped and moved away from Mark. He felt terrible about y/n and what made things worse Mark ment alot to him. He pushed Mark away, but Mark wasn't done teasing. Mark grabed the collar of Jackson's Lab coat and pulled him back, his smile dropped when he saw the name on Jackson's lab coat wasn't his, but his little sister's. Jackson and y/n must have gotten their lab coats mixed up.

The color in Jackson's face drain as Mark let go of him. “you slept with y/n?” Mark said, his voice dropping. “my little sister”

“Mark I'm so-” Jackson was cut off by mark grabbing him by the collar of his scrubs and slamming him against the wall. Jackson was shaking and his heart pounded with regret. Mark raised his fist and Jackson flinched, but nothing happened.

“Mark, what the hell?” Derek asked, separating Mark from Jackson before he could get punched.

Mark ripped himself out of Derek's grasp. “the basterd screwed y/n”

Jackson was once again shoved against wall. This time he had Derek's arm against his throat. Y/n was just as much as Derek's sister as she was Mark's. “you what” Derek said through his teeth.

Jackson's regret tunred into rage, he shoved Derek off of him. “you don't think I regret hurting her?! She won't even talk to me now!”

“well fix it Avery! Before I knock your teeth out” Mark growled.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

Jackson finally got away from both Mark and Derek, he wanted to find y/n and explain everything and mend what he broke. He couldn't find her anywhere and knew knew she wouldn't awnser his pages. He was about to lose hope, but as he tunred the corner he ran right into her.

He stares at her for a moment before his expression softens. He sees the tears that she's trying so hard to hold back, and his heart aches for her but he can understand she was so angry. He slowly moves in front of her, putting his hand on her arm. “Please... can I talk to you for a minute?” He whispers, not wanting anyone to hear what he's going to say.

I have nothing to say... “she said softly, refusing to meet his eyes.

“y/n, please.” He gently brings her into one of the supply closets, locking the door behind him. He gently pushes her backwards, pauhing her back against the wall. Jackson leans his forehead against her's, holding her face in his hands. “y/n, I know I've hurt you, more than once. I know you probably don't want to hear what I have to say... but I need to say this.”

Tears ran down her cheeks as he pressed his forehead against her's “jackson...”

“I regret everything I've ever done to hurt you, the way I've treated you... I-I'm just...” he takes a deep breath. “I love you, I really, really do. I don't know how many times I've tried to tell myself that I'm not the man for you, I always believed you'd be better off without me, but god damn it” He leans down to gently holds her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, lifting her face up so their eyes met. “when I see your beautiful face I get so... lost.”

The tears wouldn't stop, her heart pounded against her chest from his confession. Y/n looked into his eyes and saw nothing but the truth. She couldn't hold it back any longer, no matter how badly he hurt her “I... I love you too” she said softly.

“You do?” He asked, his eyes searching her's for any sign of sarcasm. After a beat of silence he leans back down and presses his lips against her's, kissing her softly. Y/n kissed him back, holding his face in her hands. This kiss was a lot more gentler and more loving than the first. It was a sign that the odds were in their favor.

“Yes... I forgive you” she said softly, giving him and loving smile.

[hanoxoxo]

Is Jealousy sweet?

Regina George x f!reader

Warnings: Jealousy

A/N: I'm so tired rn🎀

Regina George was used to being the center of attention. With her impeccable fashion sense, flawless blonde hair, and a sharp wit, she had everyone at North Shore High under her thumb. But lately, something had been bothering her, and it all started with you.

You were a recent transfer, a quiet girl who preferred the company of music over people. Despite your reserved nature, you'd managed to capture the attention of everyone around you, including Regina’s. It started innocently enough.

You joined the same English class as Regina and the Plastics. The first time you spoke up, your insightful analysis of "Pride and Prejudice" had the entire class in awe. Regina watched, intrigued and annoyed. She was the queen bee, and someone new drawing attention was a direct challenge.

Then there were the moments in the hallway. Regina noticed the way people gravitated towards you, the way your laughter lit up the corridor. It irked her to see Aaron Samuels, her ex-boyfriend, laughing with you at lunch. But what bothered her the most was how often you seemed to catch her eye. It wasn’t long before Regina found herself inexplicably drawn to you. She told herself it was because you were a threat to her reign, that she needed to keep an eye on you. But deep down, she knew it was more than that. There was something about your quiet confidence and genuine kindness that she couldn’t ignore.

Regina’s jealousy grew with each passing day. She hated the way you made her feel vulnerable, the way you unknowingly challenged her perfect facade. It all came to a head one Friday afternoon during lunch.

You were sitting with Janis and Damian, the 'freaks', laughing about something when Regina walked by with her entourage. She saw you glance at her, your eyes locking for a brief moment. That look was enough to send her over the edge. “Can you believe her?” Regina hissed to Gretchen and Karen as they walked away. “She thinks she can just waltz in here and take over. Well, she’s got another thing coming.”

That afternoon, Regina devised a plan. She would invite you to join the Plastics, get close to you, and then crush you. It was perfect. But as she approached you at your locker, her heart raced in a way it never had before. “Hey,” she said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “So, I was thinking. You should sit with us at lunch on Monday.” You looked up, surprised. “Me? Why?” Regina smiled, a perfectly rehearsed smile. “Because you’re new, and we’d like to get to know you better. Besides, it’s the least we can do for someone as smart as you.” You hesitated, but something in Regina’s eyes made you agree. “Okay, sure. Thanks, Regina.”

The weekend passed in a blur, and by Monday, Regina was a bundle of nerves. She’d never felt this way about anyone before, and the jealousy gnawed at her.

When you joined the Plastics at their table, she couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of excitement and dread. “So, Y/N,” Regina began, “tell us about yourself.” You smiled, a genuine smile that made Regina’s heart skip a beat. “There’s not much to tell. I moved here because my dad got a new job. I enjoy, singing, and drawing. Pretty boring stuff.” Karen, ever the ditz, chimed in. “Do you have a boyfriend?” You blushed. “No, I don’t.” Regina’s heart soared at the news, but she quickly masked her reaction. “Interesting. Well, you should know that being part of our group comes with certain... responsibilities.”

As the weeks went by, Regina’s plan started to unravel. The more time she spent with you, the more she found herself genuinely liking you. You were smart, funny, and kind – everything she secretly wished she could be. And the more she liked you, the more her jealousy faded, replaced by something even scarier: affection.

One afternoon, the two of you were in Regina’s room, going over homework. Regina watched as you chewed on the end of your pen, deep in thought. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. “Regina,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence. “Why did you really invite me to join the Plastics?” Regina froze. “What do you mean?” You sighed. “I know you didn’t like me at first. So why the sudden change of heart?” Regina looked down, unable to meet your eyes.

“I thought you were a threat. I was jealous of you.” You blinked, surprised. “Jealous? Of me? Why?” Regina took a deep breath. “Because you’re everything I’m not. You’re smart, kind, and people genuinely like you. And... I was scared. Scared of how you made me feel.”

You moved closer, your hand resting on hers. “How do I make you feel?”Regina’s heart pounded in her chest. “Like I’m not as perfect as I pretend to be. Like I’m... vulnerable.”

There was a moment of silence before you leaned in, your lips brushing against hers. The kiss was soft, tentative, but it sent a jolt of electricity through Regina’s body. When you pulled away, she felt breathless. “I like you, Regina,” you whispered. “Not the queen bee, but the real you. The one who’s scared and vulnerable. ”Regina’s eyes filled with tears, and for the first time in a long time, she let her guard down. “I like you too, Y/N. More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

From that day on, things changed. Regina was still the queen bee, but she was also your girlfriend. And for the first time, she felt like she didn’t have to be perfect. Because with you, she could just be Regina.

And that was more than enough.

A/N: this one was long 😋

[writingsfromhome]

In Plain Sight

A/N: I wanted to play with the idea of 2 characters falling in love at different points in a story and what that would be like on each side. Idk if I fully captured what I wanted but I liked writing from harry/reader pov like this even though I kept switching partways lol.

Would love to know for inspo purposes—how do you know you’re falling?

———————————————

This is a first, you thought as you and Claire walked into the art gallery—one of your friends had a show of their unique pieces, mixing tech with traditional art. All of it was inspired by their partner, the lead in an indie pop band so to tie it all together they were playing at the gallery while the pieces hung on the walls, rippling with their programmed light and movement.

Take a posh gallery and stitch it with a rave. That’s kind of what it looked like in there.

“Guess I didn’t need to look so fancy,” Claire says in your ear. You two had spent the last half hour sorting your closets to figure out what was art-show appropriate.

“Let’s find Mimi,” you shout back.

You weave through the crowds, staying on the outskirts and spot her all the way up the front by the stage. You both agree to find her later and opt for a drink instead.

“Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight,” Claire comments as a tall guy brushes by, eyeing the length of her with a smirk before walking away. “Maybe you will.”

“That’d be nice,” you sigh. You hated being the chronically single one of your friends but that’s just how it went. Well it went beyond that—you felt unlucky in love.

Every relationship you poured yourself into and every relationship failed, just like that.

You were unloveable, maybe. You were lonely, definitely. So you’d take the warmth of a stranger where you could get it.

“I have an idea,” Claire says. “We dance our way through the crowd, I’ll be your wingwoman and we can make our way through towards Mimi. You’re so going home with someone tonight.”

You hold your glass up in agreement, you’d learned to just go with Claire’s ideas. Somehow they never worked in your favour, but that’s what you got for having a best friend that was a smokeshow. It used to bother you, but now in your late 20s after seeing Claire go through men like she went through shoes, it didn’t matter. The guys she went for also wanted a fun time like her. You wanted someone in it for the long run.

The men who felt the pull of her magnet were never meant for you anyway.

It felt mature, to think like that.

As Claire pulls you in, you find yourself dancing with male body after male body, hands on parts of you you barely touched yourself. You feel the familiar hollowness of loneliness. It was a constant companion, and yet never made you feel any less lonely.

Across the room stand two guys, they both watch Claire throw her head back and laugh. The purple and blue lights from above dance over her skin, she looked like a muse come to life. Like she was born from this art gallery.

“Mate. She’s beautiful,” Harry, the taller of the two, comments.

“You gonna talk to her?” Dylan asks. “Because if you’re not…”

“Give me a sec,” Harry got stupidly nervous around beautiful women. Which was stupid because he interacted with them on a daily basis, but that’s probably why he was considered a bit shy by people who met him. Shy was the nice way of saying awkward.

The thing with Harry is that he grew up as a wallflower. But in his mid 20s he started earning the attention of women. Pretty women. He felt like his pot of luck had been filled and then some, and yet he only got lucky on occasion. The problem was he just didn’t know what to do with his newfound attractiveness. Even 5 years on.

“There she goes,” Dylan comments as their muse moves to the bar. “Go on.”

Harry swears under his breath but makes his beeline towards her before anyone else could swoop in.

“Hiya,” Harry slides in beside her and then curses. He should have gone for something more suave. “Can I get you something-“

“I already ordered,” she smiles and Harry confirms she’s more beautiful than any of the crazy art in this room.

“Well it’s on me.”

“Thanks,” she takes him in. He tries not to squirm or think about what impression he was making. “I’m Claire.”

“Right. I’m Harry.”

“Nice to meet you Harry.”

“Likewise…So, erhm, you like dancing?”

She tilts her head, “I do. I was just down there.”

“I know.” Harry says. She raises a brow. Shite. “I mean like I saw you dancing. In the middle. You made it look like a fun time.”

“It is. Is dancing not fun for you?” She laughs. Her drink arrives and Harry pays for it orders for himself.

“I don’t do it a lot.” Harry taps his fingers on the bar. “I like the music part. That make you want to dance.”

She gives him that look. The look that told him he’d tipped the scales too far off to recover. Why couldn’t he just explain he made music? And dancing and making music went hand in hand. Why was that so hard to say??

“Well I’m going back in,” she announces. “Feel free to join.”

And of course he doesn’t. Because she would probably inch away from him if he did until the crowd swallowed her away.

“How’d it go? Make a good impression?” Dylan asks but Harry just downs half his drink and hopes that answers Dylan’s question. He’d made an impression alright.

Meanwhile, in the middle of the dancefloor you move to the heavy drums. This was one of your favourite songs by this group; it was on replay on your Spotify. The girl beside you grins at you and you both move in sync, shouting the lyrics. It’s more fun than you’d had with any guy here tonight.

When the band takes their break and a playlist replaces the live music, you try to find Claire. It’s surprising she doesn’t have a bloke already wrapped around her this late into the night.

“The line to the toilet is stupidly long,” she complains. “I don’t feel so good. Can we get air?”

“Of course,” you grip her arm and help her out. The night air is crisp compared to the recycled air inside. You take in a lungful.

“Hey,” Claire spots someone she knows and she moves towards them. You trail behind her as she walks up to two blokes smoking off to the side. “I never saw you dancing in there!”

The guy she’s talking to shrugs, his cheeks taking on a pinkish colour. He’s cute in a boyish way, but you reckon if he trimmed his hair and grew some scruff, he could be a lot more interesting to gaze at. A face that could hang in this art gallery, a soft pink light shimmering on the highs of his cheekbones.

His eyes clash with yours and you throw a friendly smile and make a conscious effort to join the group. You hadn’t heard what was said in the time you were admiring his face.

“I would if I hadn’t broken my foot a month ago,” the other guy says. He was a cold good-looking. Sharp features accentuated by a buzzcut. You could imagine him in an avant-garde spread of a magazine.

“Excuses!” Claire teases. She was good at this. “I was telling your friend here how fun dancing was, that he should join.”

“And he didn’t?! Harry, mate, we all know you dance.”

“Not the right setting.” He replies. Almost mumbles.

“Any setting is the right setting for dancing,” his friend says.

“Right!” Claire latches onto him, you knew her well enough she’d chosen her prey for tonight. “I feel like dancing is such a good release, any time music comes on my foot just-“

“Can’t hold it in right?” The other friend laughs. “Me too. When I’m on the tube I’m like how do I get into this without looking like a weirdo.”

Claire’s laugh crackles into the air. You smile, she was going home with him for sure.

You glance at Harry, he’s looking after her like a sad puppy. You’d seen that look too many times—dejected.

“I bet you wished you liked dancing more huh?” You tease, quiet so it doesn’t travel to the couple.

“Huh?” He looks at you like he just noticed you were standing beside him. “Oh. No?”

“Right.” Well this was awkward. “So you’re Harry. I’m y/n.”

“Oh sorry,” Claire says when she hears your name. “We’re so rude we just closed ourselves off to these two. This is y/n. and I just learned that this is Dylan.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan smiles at you. “Harry are you okay if we split?”

Claire looks at you, asking the same question with her eyes. You nod, and she smiles at you gratefully. Her eyes widen and she motions subtly with her head to Harry. You smile like it was a good idea but you know he wasn’t an option; he was one of Claire’s castaways. But she was too oblivious for that.

“Then there were two,” you joke, reaching for the familiar line. “Are you going back in?”

“In there?” He shakes his head. “We already said our goodbyes. I might just head home.”

“Oh okay. Did you know the artist?”

“I don’t. Dylan’s cousin is the lead singer in the band? We came by to support the show.”

“That’s nice.” You respond back even though he didn’t return the question. “I’ve worked with the artist actually—Jemima.”

“Cool. I take it you’re an artist yourself?” He asks, finally looking at you instead of around you.

“Yep. I do photography.”

A group of people exit the show and their noise drowns out whatever Harry was about to say. Without warning, like a valve opened, your chest fills with the ache of a feeling.

What am I doing here, you ask yourself. You’d come by to support Mimi, but you didn’t owe this guy anything. You should go home, do your usual routine of staring at the ceiling, hearing Claire come in late, try to drift to sleep, and then finally doing so.

Sometimes being with others felt more lonely than being alone.

“Anyway, it was nice meeting you Harry. I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh.” He seems surprised. “You’re leaving for home?”

“Well, yeah?” You shrug. “I’ve made my rounds, danced enough to need a gallon of water. My feet are telling me to go home.”

“You ladies talk about dancing and I feel like I missed out,” he laughs but it comes off kind of awkward and shy. It’s endearing.

You change your mind then—you imagine posing him at 3/4 angle and snapping him from below. Maybe a shot looking through his lashes. Something mysterious yet welcoming. The longer you got to know him, the more he shifted.

“Does that mean you want to go back in again?” You ask.

“Fuck it sure. If you come too. I don’t want to dance alone.”

“Why not? Have you never?”

“Danced alone?” He holds the door open for you and you go in. His energy seems to have shifted. He’s less awkward, more relaxed, but it still feels like you don’t have his full attention. Or maybe that was just your insecurities projected onto a beautiful man.

“I dare you,” you have to tip toe for him to hear you once you’re back in. You use both your hands on his back and guide/push him through the crowd. When you let go you open your arms wide.

He shakes his head and tries to grab your hands but you back away. “Dance!” You shout. “Let’s see.”

He laughs, his head weighing backwards like the ceiling could grant him some confidence, the length of his neck glistening with something you wanted to taste.

When he looks at you again you chant to dance and he shrugs away his shyness. Before you know it he’s moving until he’s actually in sync with the beat. You try not to be a creep, sneaking your phone out. He was a complete stranger but god the photo opportunity was perfect.

You manage two before he turns and finds you in the crowd again. He pulls you closer to him, nearly chest to chest.

“I should be a lot more drunk to be doing this.” He says in your ear. Goosebumps erupt down your arms.

Take it easy.

The two of you end up dancing for a few songs, laughing at new moves you put on. It becomes a contest to do a silly but serious move and you’re in stitches by the time the two of you stumble out.

“Jeez that was fun,” you lean against the brick fence a few buildings down. You were sweaty and out of breath, your body demanding hydration now.

“I have not done something like that in years. It was nice.” He grins. It feels like a secret. “Thank you for pushing me in.”

You felt like you should be thanking him, for the fun and for making you feel included tonight. But of course he ruins it when he opens his mouth next.

“You can tell your friend Claire I ended up dancing. It was a proper good time.”

“Yeah,” you fake a smile, the aching wound reawakening in your chest. “Maybe I will. I’m headed that way though, I’ll see you around Harry.”

His face falls for a moment, you can see him try to figure out asking you to stay but wondering why you’d gone so cold. You hated how a good looking man could fool you into thinking he could be smart. But this one was as daft as they came.

You wave and turn towards the direction of your station, feeling a bitter chill that wasn’t coming from the weather.

***

The next time you see Harry is about a month later. Claire had been seeing Dylan—they hadn’t labelled it according to her so it was still casual. But she felt good about it because he was having a thing at his flat and he’d invited her. So you join Claire since he’d extended the invitation.

“Maybe you’ll see his friend Harry.” She sings as you turn the corner to his street.

“I already told you nothing happened that night.”

“Maybe because you went home after having a marvellous dance-off with him!”

“He kinda got like soggy bread!” You complain. “If it weren’t for me the conversation would have gone stale.”

“Same here. When he spoke to me I mean,” Claire laughs. “Dylan did say he’s a bit shy. Just give him another chance.”

“He’s not interested-“

“You’re so harsh on yourself. Of course he would be! He’d be lucky to be with you…”

You let Claire launch into her tirade. Although you appreciated it, it ignored the fact that someone could just not be interested in you. Especially after fancying your friend first.

Dylan’s flat ends up being nicer than you thought, a lot of windows and fancy tech things around.

“Just call her,” you and Claire walk up to Dylan, Harry, and another guy. Dylan seems to be lecturing Harry on something.

“Call who?” Claire asks.

“Hey,” Dylan kisses her hello. “This girl Harry went to uni with. He bumped into her when she was walking her dog. Harry thinks they hit it off, but he refuses to call her!”

“Why not?!” You and Claire ask. Further proof he wasn’t into you.

“Well I friended her on Instagram and she’s just ignored it!” Harry explains.

“So? Maybe she doesn’t use instagram.” Claire offers.

“She does. I had Dylan request too and she accepted his.”

“Oh?” You notice the pitch change in Claire but nobody else does of course.

“I unfollowed her after,” Dylan says. Or maybe he did hear the change. Smart man.

The friends gathered in the room shift and flow around each other, you lose Claire pretty quickly after the hour mark like you usually did. Eventually it’s you and Harry again, sitting on the couch.

Just like soggy bread, he’s mostly silent with beer in his hand. You get tired of the silence so eventually you slide closer to him.

“So what’s with the girl from uni? Do you have history?”

“Huh?” He seems startled out of his thoughts. “Oh. Her. No we had a few classes, saw her at parties that sort of thing.”

“But it seemed promising when you saw her recently?”

“I think so?”

Poor Harry, he couldn’t even tell the difference.

“What about her number? Or try DM-ing her.”

“I don’t wanna be desperate.”

“Fine,” you think. “Nevermind. She’s probably not into you.”

“But she kept touching my arm,” Harry recalls. “Why would she touch me if she wasn’t interested?”

You look at his physique. It wasn’t anything extraordinary but you can see the temptation to touch his arms.

Meanwhile Harry watches you eye him. It was kind of funny to him. He didn’t know why Claire’s best friend always remained at the end of the night but she was easy to talk to so he didn’t mind. Better than pretending to be interested in whatever Dylan’s tech-bros were talking about.

He hadn’t actually seen Dylan in a while. Probably off with Claire, he thinks with a sigh.

“Yeah nevermind.” Harry hears you say. It’s then he realized he’d tuned you out while his brain had been running. And you had taken his sigh as a response to what you were explaining.

The conversation falls flat after that. And when Harry goes for another drink you decline, deciding it was time to head home.

Surprisingly, Harry says he could use the time away and walks you to the station. Claire was spending the night but mostly he just wanted out of the flat. Walking you a few blocks away was a good enough excuse.

***

A few weeks go by before you find yourself alone with Harry again. It was someone’s birthday, or two people’s. You forgot what exactly was the excuse you took to get out of the house. All you had to know was there were people and an open bar.

Again, you started off in a group but couples drifted away until the two of you remained. You had been standing in Harry’s blind spot so when the last couple leaves, he notices it was you.

“Hey.” Harry says to you but his eyes look out into the room, even his body faces the crowd’s direction. He should have known you were here after seeing Claire cozy up with Dylan.

It should make you feel shittier but you’re almost used to it. After a week of working from home hunched over your table editing photos for yesterday’s deadline you would take any social interaction. No matter how stale. Or soggy.

“Hey!” You elbow him so he looks at you at least. “It's been a while hasn’t it? How’s life treating you these days?”

“Yeah, it's fine.”

“Cool, yeah. Any exciting projects keeping you busy lately or…?”

“Not really. Just the usual keeping me busy right now. Same old routine y’know.”

“Right, right.” You could feel him slip away again. “Yeah. Work can be a drag. I’m pretty sure I gave myself scoliosis being hunched over for 10 hours a day this week. I’d rather fold laundry than do that again, and you probably don’t know this, but I absolute hate folding laundry. But yeah that’s my thrilling life. Anything you've been doing in your free time?”

“Nah. Just trying to stay on top of work.”

“Right.” He was the busiest man on earth apparently. “So everyone at the party’s talking about the new Love Island season. You watch it?”

“Not really into TV these days. Busy with work and all that?”

“Right. You mentioned. I did too.” You nod. “I had a lot of deadlines this week so very busy too. Busy busy. I actually got so stir-crazy I started talking to my plants? It felt silly, but my nan was saying it does help them grow so…it’s a win-win. Or maybe it’s the isolation makes you appreciate the little things…”

“Right.” Harry nods along. He’s looked at you twice this whole time. Well, glanced was more like it. And suddenly you want to scream because it was utterly unfair that you only knew him at any of these godforsaken parties. And he never wanted to talk to you, or cared to.

You’d seen him with Dylan, even with Claire! He was more animated and interested then, even though he stammered through half of it. Was there something wrong with you that put you in gray-scale in this crowd of colourful people?

You’re not Claire, the stupid voice in your head reminds you.

I didn’t need to be Claire, you remind yourself.

“So what about that girl you fancied?” You try to ask him something he might be interested in; you hated how desperate you were getting for company. “From uni? Anything come of that?”

“What?” He finally looks at you. “Oh her. No she uhm. Well embarrassing but she has a bloke. I misread the whole thing-“

“You said she was all touchy!”

“Yeah she was wasn’t she?” He scratches his head. “I dunno, i suppose she’s always been like that. So yeah, nothing happened there.”

He chuckles like he’s embarrassed, yet the smile brightens his face. It makes you a little more upset and you don’t know why.

“Maybe you dodged a bullet. Anyway. I’m gonna make some rounds. I’ll catch you around-“

“What?” He actually turns to you now. “Why?”

“What?!”

“Why you leaving?”

“I’m not leaving. I’m just doing a circle. And getting another drink.”

“Oh,” his shoulders drop a little. You’re confused, because he didn’t seem interested in having you around at all until you were leaving. “Good.”

“I didn’t think you’d miss me if I was gone with your half-ass answers.” You say before you can think. He looks a little stupefied.

“Half-ass?”

“Or were you just being a whole ass?”

“Huh?” He closes the gap between you again. “I was listening to what you were talking about.”

“Yeah. Just listening. It felt like having a conversation with paint while it dried.”

“I’d think that’s better than houseplants?”

You’re a bit stunned—he had been listening. But still. He wasn’t keeping up conversation.

“Now see if you made a joke about it back then it would have been funny. A back-and-forth conversation? Now it’s just a desperate attempt to keep me around. I don’t know what for.”

“It’s not desperate,” he argues. “I didn’t realize you’re so needy.”

You raise a brow, “I am not needy.”

“I think you are,” he grins and with his full attention on you and that stupidly smarmy grin you feel that pull again. Too bad it was just one-sided.

“I’m not. I’ll prove it by leaving your presence for good tonight. See you next time Harry.”

“Don’t be like that,” he calls after you. “And I like to keep you around because I thought we were friends!”

Your stride falters as you’re walking away. You weren’t expecting him to say that.

But wasn’t he just friends because both your friends were dating each other?

What are you even doing here with these people, the thought comes back to you again. The same one that always floated through your mind being in these sorts of places.

If Claire wasn’t dating Dylan you wouldn’t even be here. God, you needed to hang out with friends other than Claire.

***

You unwrap the belt that ties your coat closed and drop it all to the floor. Well not all, your cameras get let down gently.

Your shoulders ached. And your back and your head and your arms. Jeez.

You had a wedding gig that was paying most of this month’s rent, so you had to take it. The only thing is your job started at 6am and ended at 8pm. That was more than half a day and you were spent.

“Hey you’re home!” Claire waves at you as you pass her. She has her phone held out in front of her face, you hear Dylan’s voice on the other end.

“Is that yn? Hii!”

“Hi,” you croak to Dylan. Claire juts her lip out at the sight of you.

“I’ve already done dinner,” she says over the top of the screen. “I’m going out with Dylan and some friends later you wanna come?”

You shake your head. She knows what a low battery yn looked like.

“Okay fine. Leftovers are in the fridge for you.”

“God I love you,” you tell her as you close your bedroom door behind you and collapse into bed.

You liked it when Claire was happy in a relationship, or whatever she called them, but when she wasn’t these were the nights she’d follow you into your room after a big shoot and ask about the details. And you’d complain about the pushy customers eventually moving to how beautiful everything was. She was usually the first person to see your raw images.

But tonight while she talks to Dylan you turn on your humidifier and let the low hushing noise lull you into a relaxing trance. You remember that you only had yourself. That you had to learn to be happy with that, lonely or not.

***

Claire promised to do kitchen duty for the whole week if you came out to Jemima’s partner’s gig. And you couldn’t deny a week of no dishes or meal prep, so you drag your ass out the door despite riding on 4 hours of sleep for the last few nights. But you met your deadline this afternoon so this was as good of a celebration as any. Even if it was a Thursday night.

“So you and Dylan are getting serious huh?” You ask Claire on the tube over.

“Kinda?”

“It’s been over 3 months. Half the time you were with you know who.”

You-know-who, her one relationship that actually meant something to her. Crashed and burned two years ago.

“No,” she blushes. “It’s just, he’s pretty great but we don’t really talk about labels.”

“Maybe you should.”

“Guys always run when you do.”

Do you want that sort of guy, you want to ask. Instead you shrug, “let them.”

She rolls her eyes, accustomed to your biting remarks around men.

The gig is electrifying as soon as you arrive. It gets you moving and your sedentary body remembers it has more flex in it than just your wrist. You’re alive and sweaty a few hours later, happy that you went.

“Hey,” Claire says when you drift back to her. “Dylan said the drummer’s inviting some friends to the place she’s staying at. Wanna come?”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” You were high on just being out and around people, the loneliness had been kept at bay, and you didn’t want to ruin that by going home just yet.

The drummer’s place is the bottom floor of a quaint house near Portobello. Most people are already there by the time you trail in behind Claire and Dylan.

“Look there’s Harry!” Claire shouts, pointing to the figure that was become too familiar to you. He’s listening intently to the couple in front of him. Nice to know he could do that.

You flash her a thumbs up. But her and Dylan start walking towards them. Ugh!

You eye the room, thinking you could make a run-in with alcohol instead of Harry but he looks up at the approaching couple and catches your eye. He waves.

Whatever.

The four of you eventually find a quieter room, mostly because there was a hookah circle going on and everyone there was talking in hushed voices. A stark contrast to the volume in the den.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you here.” Harry says when the two of you find yourselves alone again.

“Why not?”

“You didn’t show the last couple times we all hung out. I thought you were tired of us.”

“Maybe I am.” You raise your brow. “Did you miss me?”

“Hey!” Dylan appears in front of you two again before he could answer. “Nish is here, I heard.”

“Nish?” Harry becomes all fidgety.

“Who’s Nish?” You have to ask.

“Someone we know,” Dylan says. You look for Claire and she’s making her way to you. But before she gets there another body steps towards your group.

“Hi! Harry look at you—and Dylan, is it just me or you look more hideous than last time?” The girl cuts in and you take a step back instinctively. The group felt overcrowded.

You watch the two boys hug the new girl, Nish you assume, in greeting.

Claire approaches the group with curiosity.

Introductions are made and Dylan offers to show Nish the drinks.

Then there were three.

“She’s pretty,” you comment. You know Harry agrees what with how much he resembled a ruler.

“Yeah,” he nods stiffly.

“So were you at the gig Harry?” Claire changes the subject. “It was amazing.”

“Yeah! I was there with Dylan and some friends. Surprised I didn’t see you two.”

“Were you dancing?” Claire teases.

“I was,” he blushes. He glances at you. You recall that first night when the two of you had a lot of fun just dancing. “Maybe that’s why I missed you guys.”

You give a small smile at the in-joke. He looks back to Claire.

You all talk about the gig, and then a little about someone similar Harry was working with.

Eventually Claire wonders aloud where Dylan had gotten to and leaves.

And then there were two.

“I get this feeling something’s going to happen,” you say.

“What do you mean?” Harry asks.

You shrug, you didn’t quite know. The whole night was moving so fast, especially after the gig. You just had a sense you missed something and it was bothering you.

“Have you got a drink yet?” Harry asks.

“No, maybe I should.”

“Me too. I’m done mine. I think I want another.”

As you walk down the hall to where it might logically be, you hear a shout. Your stomach drops. Was this it?

“I’m sorry wait!” Someone shouts over the noise. The overall noise dies down a bit quieter. “It’s not what it-“

“Fuck off! I’m done!”

“Shite,” you recognized Claire’s voice anywhere. You rush past Harry and towards the voices.

You find Dylan shirtless and holding it against his chest. Nish is a little ways behind him, hair a lot messier than when you last saw her. Buttons undone on her dress.

You notice the lipstick on Dylan’s neck. A colour Claire would never wear.

Everything snaps into place.

You rush to Claire and try to comfort her but she hurls more insults towards Dylan over your shoulder. You manage to get her out of his sight and she fights you too, she was seething with anger.

“He’s a dick!” She screams. “Why did I think he was going to be any different oh my god! I shouldn’t have let him go alone with her, what was I thinking? Yn! Why didn’t you stop me!”

You knew it was all rhetorical. Claire rarely took romantic advice from you.

“He tried to say we weren’t even a couple I-“ her voice catches and then comes the tears. You pull her in, familiar with the routine. Next would be feeling sorry for herself, then the anger again, then telling you she needed to be alone. Then a few hours would pass before she crawled back to needing comfort again.

And it happens just so.

“I don’t need a mother right now!” Claire says as you convince her to stay with you. To head home. “I just need to clear my head! I’m sorry okay I just want to be alone!”

And you let her go.

And now you had to kill time.

You find a beer and down it. Someone nearby asks you what the drama was about and you strike up a conversation that ends in them trying to kiss you. Ew.

You wander until you find Harry again. He’s surprised you’re still here. Asks where Claire was but as you respond one of the girls from the band recognizes Harry—you’re pretty sure her name is Kate. Soon enough you’re sidelined while they talk about something you knew nothing about.

Well fuck him too, you think miserably.

You grab one of the few remaining cans and head to the back of the house. Past open doors and closed doors. The closed door intrigues you at the end of the hall.

The doorknob is stuck so you wiggle it. Probably locked.

You were tired. God, you were tired of it all.

In a moment of anger you bang your shoulder against the door and magically it opens.

It wasn’t locked, just stuck due to age.

Same, you think.

Inside is the smallest room you’ve ever seen. The size of 1.5 closets. There looks like a childs bed, the walls are covered in posters, and there’s a small set of drawers with a guitar resting on top. It’s cramped but cozy, something about it feels familiar.

You step inside and close the door.

Down goes another beer.

You hope the person who owned the room didn’t mind you crashing it. You lay in bed and let out a big sigh. And then another. It felt good. Cleansing.

You listen to the noises outside, people laughing and talking. You think about Claire. About yourself. All of your several issues combined. The dull ache of loneliness starts in your ribcage and spreads out.

The door handle rattles a few times but eventually you realize nobody’s angry enough to smash it open like you. Most people assumed it’s locked and leave.

You’re taken by surprise then the door does creak open a smidge.

Distant light travels through to paint a multi-coloured line across the floor and over the bed. You lift your fingers to touch it but it feels like everything else.

“Of course you’re in here; I wondered where you went to.” Harry reveals his face by opening the door wider, poking his head in. It looks like it’s floating and the image almost makes you laugh. Almost.

“Why?” You ask in your most disinterested voice.

He takes the question, despite it dripping with apathy, as an invitation. The door remains opened a crack, now just with Harry on the inside.

“Because you disappeared.”

“You started talking to Kate so I made my exit. Did she go home?”

“No.” He inches closer after closing the door. You have no idea how he knew exactly where you were and how to get in. With the door closed it’s not so dark that you can’t make out his figure. But he’s a shadow in the dark.

“Can you sit or something? It’s kind of creepy having you hover like that in the dark.”

“Sorry,” he laughs and again, he overextends the invitation and lays parallel to you. He’s close, with the bed being so small. Your ache spreads. “Kate’s dancing with another bloke.”

“Poor Harry.” You mock. “Every pretty lady wants to dance with someone else.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I have this special ability to read between the lines.”

“Well my specialty is reading between the sheets.”

The comment lands like a third person on the bed. It’s a withering creature a cross between a baby and a calf. He scoops it off with, “sorry. I really don’t know where that came from.”

You laugh. It was so silly for something so bold to come out of his mouth.

“It’s fine. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be that bold before. Usually I just watch you fumble around and finish up thoughts inside your head instead of out loud-“

“I do do that don’t I?”

“You said do do,” you giggle.

“Very mature.”

“Very manure.” Your giggles turn into a laugh, something’s cracked inside of you and it feels funnier than it probably is.

Harry nudges you with his elbow and it silences your laugh. It’s abrupt, and he notices. “Why’d you come in here anyway?” He asks. “I thought you’d be with Claire.”

“Were you looking for her? You could be with Claire now y’know,” you say. Some part of you knew you’re tipsy and you should shut up but in the darkness your cutting words feel blunted.

“What’s that mean?”

“Dylan the dick—that’s his new nickname just fyi. He fumbled the bag. She’s free for the taking now.”

“I feel like this violates some sort of girl-code. Shouldn’t you be warning me away?”

You scoff, “Harry don’t be coy. Everyone knows you tried to get together that first night we all met. You always look at her like a lost puppy.”

“I don’t.”

“Do so.”

“What’s it to you?“

You shrug. He’s close enough to feel it.

You were upset tonight. Angry. Angry at Dylan for being another a-hole. Angry at Claire for putting yet another man on a pedestal with all his potential he could never reach. They hadn’t labelled themselves for 3 months, what did she expect would happen?

Mostly you were upset at yourself. Because a part of you watched Claire put herself out there over and over, and you were upset that you couldn’t do the same. That your shallow bruises compares to Claire’s gashes had kept you locked up in your bedroom.

You admit it to yourself then: you kind of liked Harry. And you totally and absolutely hated it.

Because you watched him watch Claire, fumble his words with every woman you catch him with, push him away just so you don’t potentially get hurt. A part of you knows he wouldn’t like you like that. He treats you like you’re part of the furniture half the time. He’s given no indication of the sort. And you just weren’t the kind of girl to leave a confession like that hanging. You didn’t want a public unrequited crush.

It comes again. The wave of loneliness, the feeling that nobody ever has or ever will understand you. That you were an island with no dock, a house with no door. You were unknowable, and unforgettable.

“Why don’t I ever hear about your relationship exploits?” Harry suddenly asks. You forgot he was there and you startle. “Sorry were you falling asleep?”

“No.” You answer. “And because…because I’m not showy about that sort of thing. And it also doesn’t happen as often as you or Claire or Dylan the dick.”

“Wow the name’s really gonna stay.”

“Mhm.”

“Do you have a boyfriend now?”

“Nope.”

“What’s your last actual relationship?”

“A long time ago.”

“Me too.” He sighs. “My last proper girlfriend was in my early 20s. She moved city. We broke up after that, long-distance is hard. I feel like every year I age, I get worse at talking to women.”

“I can confirm.”

“Well not you. You’re easy to talk to.”

“Thanks,” you say dryly.

“Not like that.” He backtracks, sitting up as if you could see his face. “No not like that. You’re…nice. To look at. I don’t mean that I don’t see you as a women—because you are. I see that I uhm-“

“I think you’ll have to take back your previous statement.”

His head falls back on his pillow and he laughs, it sounds like he’s choking on air a little.

“Jeez, what was that?” He asks once he pulls himself together.

“Beats me,” you say with a smirk.

“It gets pretty lonely though right.”

You let his statement sit in the dark. You don’t agree or disagree. Doing so felt like admitting something vulnerable.

“Or maybe that’s just me.” He says after a while. “Maybe you have a great life and don’t fall in love with every other person you meet.”

“Do you actually?” Your interest was piqued.

“I can’t help it. I’m a musician, I just notice something small about them and suddenly a song is being written about them in my head without even realizing. So I just fall in love with a lot of random people. And I uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever admitted that to anyone!”

It was the dark. It was easier to be honest in it. No wonder churches kept their confessions in darkened corners.

You think about all the regular people you fall in love with every time you lift your camera to your face. How every person made you ache; there were whole worlds going on inside of them and you saw it all through the lens.

You wonder briefly if Harry ever wrote a song about you in his head but squash it. He barely took the time to look at you, definitely not long enough to notice you like you did him.

“Here’s my confession—same.” You try for the confession-in-the-dark thing. To make him feel better. “At least when I’m taking photos or making videos. Some people get camera shy but after talking to them they loosen up and getting to capture their whole essence in a picture or a video I just…makes me fall in love too. I like to imagine what everyone would be like in front of a camera. I dunno.”

“What a pair we make.” Harry reaches out and his hand brushes yours. You pull away, hating yourself while you do.

He clears his throat when you reject his bid to be closer, you feel his hand slide back to himself.

Harry didn’t know why sometimes it felt like you hated him and other times like you were friends. He just figured he didn’t understand women. On any spectrum.

“Y/n,” your name is loaded in the dark. You wait for him to continue but the silence stretches out.

“What?” You finally ask.

You feel the bed shift and move under you. He was turning. You feel his gaze on you. You turn your head to look back and he’s inches away. Alarms blare in your head, abort abort! But even in the darkness his eyes find some light to reflect.

Harry’s thinking the same thing about you. Somehow it’s dark but when you turn your head to look at him, your eyes twinkle with what little moonlight streams in from the window. Or maybe that was the streetlights. Either way, Harry wonders why it felt like this was the first time he’s ever seen you. How ironic that it’s in the dark too.

It happens without realizing, his mind starts to string together something about the girl laying in his bed shrouded in darkness, with light in her eyes. A girl with secrets-

The bed vibrates.

“Oh,” you turn away and take the intimate moment with you. You feel around and find your phone beside you. Claire’s face lights up the screen.

“Claire,” you sit up.

“I’m ready to go home,” Claire sniffles on the other end. “Where are you?”

“At the party. You’re still at the party right?”

“I’m just outside. I got some chips but I couldn’t find you so I finished them all.”

You laugh, “Lie. I know how you feel about sharing chips don’t worry.”

Harry watches you have this conversation. Your laugh finds its way right into his chest. He feels warm.

You look at him and hold your finger up, shimming off the foot of the bed.

“You bought two!?” You ask after Claire sniffles about how much she emotionally ate tonight.

“It’s your fault! I ate two because I couldn’t find you and they were getting cold.”

“Well I’m coming outside to save you now.”

You put the phone down and look back at Harry. He’s sat up in the bed and staring at you.

“I gotta go weirdo.”

“Yeah,” he says.

“Well…I dunno if we’ll see each other as much now that-“

“Yeah,” he agrees.

“So good luck? Until next time?” You laugh, but an awkwardness starts to creep in as Harry stays unresponsive and staring on the bed. “Uhm. Okay?? Bye…”

You leave Harry as he is. Did he get all weird because Claire was on the phone? Ugh. What a liar, you think. He was still just as obsessed with her.

You feel a little bad for goading him about it earlier but it doesn’t linger long. When you see Claire you gather her up in your arms and then the two of you set off arm-in-arm back to your small flat together.

***

“So what’s happening with Kate?” Dylan asks. Harry and him are sat at the pub a few weeks later, he’s already moved on from Claire to the girl on his arm. He didn’t know how his friend did it, if Harry had a girl like Claire he wouldn’t treat her like she was disposable.

But thinking of Claire didn’t have that same spark anymore. When he thought about it, she was beautiful and spirited, the kind of woman musicians like him write songs about. But there was someone else on his mind, the kind of woman someone could spend their whole career trying to compartmentalize into songs. Songs turning into albums. Only to find nothing beats her living spirit.

How could he be so dumb, he’d been beating himself up since that night in the dark. He’d had 3 months of being around her and he never actually looked at her. Always took her for granted. God, even that first night together had been the most fun Harry had had in ages. But he’d just turned her into a friend by proximity.

But weeks gone without her, knowing there was only pure chance of bumping into her, had made Harry a regretful heart.

“Hello? Did you scare her off?” Dylan asks.

“Nah. She’s not my type.” Harry responds.

“Harry I should set you up with one of my mates. She’d be perfect for you. She’s a teacher and…”

Harry listens to Dylan’s new girl describe a friend Harry couldn’t be arsed to go out with. All because he wanted something he couldn’t have anymore.

***

Harry runs into Claire at a pub a week later. His hopes soar as high as the sky when he thinks y/n might be here.

“Hi! Claire!” Harry awkwardly stops her as she walks past the bar where he sits. He was waiting for a few of his mates to watch the football match with. Dylan was luckily out of town today, otherwise this pub would have it’s roof blown off.

“Oh Harry hi,” she’s friendly. Harry didn’t think she’d be friendly towards him. She leans in for a hug. “How’ve you been?”

“Good! Ehm good yeah just making more music and stuff. You?”

“Better,” she rolls her eyes. “How’s Dylan the-“

“I’d rather not be in the middle. If that’s alright.” Harry says before he can think. He knew what his friend was, he didn’t want to talk about him.

“Fine.” She crosses her arms. “Yeah. I’m good.”

“Watching the game?”

“Sorta. My family’s down and I know y/n hates the ruckus my brothers make watching the game at home so I’m sticking them here.”

“Oh y/n’s not here?” Harry feels his hope evaporating.

“No. What’s the deal with you and her anyway? Why didn’t you ever…?”

“Y/n?”

“Yeah!”

“She’s not interested in me,” Harry laughs. He was also blind but he doesn’t say that.

“I mean, maybe not crazily but if you asked she would have said yes. She didn’t hate you.”

“Is that the standard now?” Harry jokes.

“It is with her,” she smiles with a look in her eye like there was more there. But of course, Harry doesn’t push.

“I…I dunno. I never thought she would be interested. It never occurred to me.”

“You’re such a guy,” she scolds. “You have anyone now or you’re still regularly putting your foot in your mouth?”

Harry flushes. “I don’t. And I don’t put my foot in my mouth.”

She rolls her eyes but the smile stays on her face. “Anyway, I’m grabbing the beers. I’ll talk to you later?”

Harry nods, suddenly unable to just ask for y/n’s number. Anything.

But as she walks away he realizes he’d had a whole conversation with Claire without overthinking or being a fumbling idiot once.

He thinks back, to the last couple weeks. He realizes it’s been a while since he’s done it.

Was I finally turning a corner, Harry thinks.

***

You had a gig today filming at a studio. Some indie duo but they were gaining popularity on Tiktok and wanted some bts footage of working in the studio for an upcoming music video. You weren’t going to ask questions. It paid decent money so you said yes.

You pull into the parking lot, grateful that Claire had a car you could borrow. It helped lugging around your equipment for videoshoots. Today it was just you as your PA was out sick. It wasn’t supposed to be a lot of angles so you figured it would be okay.

You consider the day a win by the time you pack up. The group were much younger than you but very outgoing and it made for a lot of funny and sweet footage. They also had amazing voices, you told them they were going on your playlists once you got home.

Your right hand goes weightless as you walk with your bags down the hall. You turn just as the helper speaks up.

“Looked like you could use a hand.”

“Harry I…what a surprise hi!” Your mood brightens at the sight of him, despite everything.

“Hi,” he shifts the bag in his hand to return your hug. His body is solid and warm. It made no sense but you missed something about him. “How was your shoot?”

“Really good! I was shooting a…wait how did you know?”

“I saw you in there?”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah I um-“

“You had nothing to do with this right?”

“And if I did?” He meets your eye and you feel out of breath with whatever speaks through them. What was up with that?

“Uhmm I owe you a thank you!?!”

Harry offers a small smile, “I was looking at your work a couple weeks back. You’re really good. I just threw your name out to a few managers if they were looking for someone…”

Harry looks different with this new information. Or maybe this was a Harry that was actually paying attention to you, it was both intimidating and touching.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No! No, thank you I…that’s…I’m grateful. Thank you. Can I get you a drink to say thanks?”

“Okay cuz your face was all scrunched up. I thought you were pissed.” He laughs. “And I have some things to finish up-“

“Oh right, you’re probably busy-“

“No no I would love to. Get drinks. With you.” Harry grows more awkward as the air between you crackles with something electric. Maybe, he thought, this is what happens when two people are on the same wavelength.

“Ok. Well when do you finish?”

Harry doesn’t quite hear your question. His head feels flooded with sand and he can’t stop looking at you, right in front of him finally. Why did he never notice your eyes and the way they take him in, your sweetness, the easygoing tilt of your head, or how how disarming your smile was. He chalked it up to being an idiot.

“Wait what-“ he laughs, feeling the blood flush his face. He was doing that thing again, where his brain stopped thinking in the attention of a pretty girl. “What’d you ask?”

“When you finish?” You ask, suddenly feeling shy yourself. You can feel the element of nervousness from him and it made this casual moment feel more intense.

“Maybe half hour?” Harry scratches his nose. “Are you heading somewhere now? You can hang out with me and we can go together?”

You thought about getting to see him work, it sounded promising. “Sure!”

Harry wipes his palm on his jeans and walks ahead, leading you down the hall and to the right. He opens it to a recording studio, gesturing to the chairs and taking the seat behind all the buttons. You set your things down and stand by the panel, curious what each of the controls did.

Harry glances up at you and you shoot a smile, about to ask if it was okay you watch, but he goes back to work just as quickly.

He was working on something that sounded like a pop song. You try to make out all the layers on the software he was using, it kind of looked the same when you edited a video. But there’s too many layers to distinguish.

Eventually you sit back down, admiring Harry in his element. Your mind drifts, and you wonder if everything that happened out in the hallway was a figment of your imagination or Harry was being weird with you. Because the thing about Harry being weird meant he was in his head about one thing.

You wonder, like you did every so often, what could have happened that night in the dark the last time you saw him if Claire hadn’t called. Harry had looked at you like he had just met you—with a good curiosity.

But then again, this was the same Harry that probably looked at Claire with the same look.

“Done.” Harry turns in his swivel chair with a grin an hour or so later.

“Great!” You shake off your thoughts and set your laptop down.

“Did you want to leave your things here?”

“I have a car I can put them in?”

“The place I was gonna take you to isn’t that far from here.”

So you agree, and leave your equipment in the studio. The two of you walk out, talking about what he was working on. He asks you about your shoot today and the conversation carries you to the pub he had picked out.

Conversation starts to fizzle out as you tuck into your booth seat.

“What you guys getting today?” The waitress appears almost instantly, it startles you.

You look at the menu and to her. She’s got a beautiful face, round cheeks framed by micro bangs and night-black eyebrows that made her look permanently unimpressed. And yet her rosy cheeks and button nose were a friendly addition to the severity of the rest of her.

You glance at Harry, ready for him to be a bumbling idiot around her. He glances at you from the menu when he senses you looking over and for a second you feel the loneliness creep in. Despite the warm smile he sends your way.

“Can we get a few more minutes?” Harry asks her. She pockets her things without another word and walks away.

“What’s good here?” You ask to fill the silence.

The two of you go over the menu and by the time the waitress returns you’re ready. You watch Harry ask her questions and place the order, confident and direct. His eyes slide to yours every so often and each time they do you feel your resolve slip a little more.

“What’s changed then Harry?” You tease when she leaves. You tease, but you seriously want to know. “I thought you’d be a puddle of words around a woman that gorgeous.”

“Her?” Harry glances back. “I guess. I’m not such a mess.”

“Oh you so are.” You laugh. “You’re all ums and uhs.”

“I’m…fine. I’m not so bad anymore!”

“Yeah so? What happened?”

He looks at you with such a serious look that your smile dies down.

“Drinks,” the waitress places them down on the table, saving the both of you from whatever would have come next.

“Thanks,” you tell her and pull the distraction towards you.

“Let’s just say,” Harry says after she leaves. “I gained some perspective.”

You raise an eyebrow, not wanting to push it any more. “Okay.”

For the first time in a while, your nerves overtake the anxious discomfort you usually lived with. Something was definitely happening here—you weren’t hallucinating. But you weren’t sure where it was going, and if you wanted it.

Of course you want it, stop convincing yourself otherwise, you tell yourself.

Why did vulnerability feel like facing mount everest in just your pjs.

“I bumped into Claire a few weeks ago, she seems to be doing well.” Harry says and you can’t help but overanalyze for a heartbeat. He’d brought Claire up after all.

“Oh she didn’t mention,” you reply.

“She was with her family? Said you kicked them out of the flat-“

“Oh!” You laugh. “Yeah her brothers get stupidly rowdy when the football’s on. This one time I had an interview early the next morning and—this was before I knew how loud they could get. And I was up. Until 2am nearly to tears! Finally I snapped, they call it the y/n-geddon. Then of course I felt so bad I couldn’t sleep for another two hours. Now we just draw boundaries.”

Harry laughs at your story. “Sounds scary. Now it makes sense though.”

“Better for everyone,” you laugh. “But yeah. Claire’s been good, it was nice her family was down she’s always more herself when they do.”

Your food arrives and you put the conversation on pause as you tuck in.

“How about you?” Harry asks. “Your family?”

You tell him about your family and the conversation moves on to moving out, living in the city. It branches out naturally like a tree, and both of you relax into each other’s company.

It was really nice, you admit to yourself. It felt like talking to an actual person rather than the shell of someone. Which is how it felt like talking to Harry in the past. The only soggy bread was the butty dipped in your soup.

You pay, as you insist it was to thank him for the help. It’s cooler out when you had back to the studio for your things and there’s more people out; those free of their office jobs and roaming for a drink to relax into.

The studio’s empty and you head towards your bags, asking Harry if he was heading home too.

“Yeah, I’ve been here since 6 so I think I’m ready to go home.”

“Shite that’s early!”

“Deadlines!” He sighs. “What can ya do.”

“Can I give you a ride somewhere at least?”

“If you’re going in the direction of the station I’ll hop in.”

“Yeah sure!”

“Good thing you have a car with all that equipment.”

“Yeah my thoughts this morning. But that reminds me of all the footage I have to edit.” You say. “Thanks to you.”

“Anytime. Anytime y/n. I’m gonna keep whispering your name around. You’ll be fully booked soon just watch and see.”

“You don’t have to,” you set your things back on the ground. It didn’t seem like Harry was in a hurry to get out.

“I want to,” he replies seriously. The room feels smaller than it did seconds ago, or maybe the awareness of Harry’s proximity tightened the space between you.

“Thanks,” you try to meet his eye as you say it but it’s hard to. His gaze strips away any doubt you had; his feelings are written all over his face. All you could think was: Holy Fuck what is this

“It’s my pleasure,” he says which just sucks any remaining oxygen out of the room.

When you’re on autopilot you don’t even think, you just go through the motions. That’s what it felt like, one second you’re standing opposite Harry. The next you’re standing right in front of him and his lips are on yours.

Maybe you just imagined this scene so much it became repetitive and now this—kissing him, felt so familiar.

He’s nothing like the timid and awkward Harry you watch at parties and pubs. He’s sure of himself, kissing you in the exact way to soothe your past aches; your loneliness is washed away like ocean tides over words etched in the sand. You get lost in it. In him.

You don’t know when his hands slide around your waist and pull you in. His lips are soft and gentle. Your mind blanks as the sensation of being held, of his touch, spreads. You don’t realize you stop kissing back, just for a second, until he pulls away.

Harry takes a deep breath, face pink and brows furrowed. This felt right, but was he reading it wrong? He did that often.

You take a small step back, needing the space to process. It felt right, better than your imagination, and you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him.

“So um,” you bite your lip. “You still want that ride?”

“Where is it going?” He asks, the tightness in his chest easing a little when you look up at him, head tilted and a nervous expression on. He wasn’t reading it wrong. Both of you were just a little overwhelmed.

“Anywhere you want it to. I was thinking it could go home.”

“Mmm,” he nods. “Home sounds nice.”

With a smile exchanged, he lifts most of your equipment to the car. You have to take a beat outside the car just to force your brain to go from scrambled to whole so you can manage the drive home. It took every ounce of concentration.

Claire’s not home when you get there and you’re so grateful for that. Firstly, you just wanted to get him back into your bedroom. Secondly, you wanted this just between the two of you. At least for today.

You drop her a text in case, like you two usually did. You tell her you had company over.

The rest of the night can be spent uninterrupted.

You set everything in the living room and take Harry back to your bedroom.

He looks around curiously, taking in the photos on the walls and the things on the dresser.

You watch him, feeling a little exposed. he was looking. Seeing. You. It was different. Good different.

Harry looks at you with a question and you answer by closing the space between you; he reaches his arms out and your body is engulfed by him. Your lips meet, this time less hesitant.

It’s not long before Harry pulls you towards the bed, falling backwards with you on top of him. You straddle his hips and kiss him like a teenager. You feel his fingers brush your waist and tug at the bottom of your top.

It’s off in an instant and you try to hide the smile as Harry takes in the sight of you, his eyes filling with awe. He was such a dork. But it made you feel empowered, and seen. You reach for his shirt and he lets you take it off.

When you lean forward again, chests pressed together, his hands find the small of your back. They trace circles there, sending shivers up your spine.

You take the cue and kiss him slowly, rocking your hips against him. He gasps, his hands tightening as you trail kisses along his neck.

The sounds he makes go straight to your core and you feel the familiar flutter that tells you to hurry. You move back, undoing his jeans and helping him slide them off.

“You’re alright with this?” He breathes into your skin.

Your heart thuds in your ribcage, but mostly from anticipation; you never realized how long you wanted this for. Wanted him.

“Of course,” you pause and so does he. “Took you long enough.”

With a wry smile he covers your mouth with his and soon the two of you find a rhythm that no song could compete with. You find company in someone you’d sworn could never be yours.

It’s bliss.

***

The sun filters through the window and casts a warm light across your floor.

You were in your own bed, and in the middle of the mattress with a leg thrown over the edge was Harry, sound asleep. Tbe weight of his arm over your waist and the steady sound of his breathing is the proof you needed that this was real. He was real.

The two of you hadn't bothered to get dressed last night. It was an unspoken understanding that this wasn’t the end.

You turn onto your side; it was a nice view.

It was a nice morning, actually. The first morning in a while where you not only woke to a warm body, but one that felt like it belonged. That wasn’t going anywhere

Claire must be somewhere in the flat, you realize. You hadn’t heard her come in.

Harry starts to stir as light fills the room. His eyes squint open and his left hand comes up to cover his face.

You reach over to run your fingers through his hair and he sighs, his face relaxing into a smile.

Harry turns to you, eyes finally open and alert and your heart thumps happily.

There was no need for words.

You snuggle closer and he wraps an arm around you. You bury your face into his neck and breathe in his scent.

He laughs quietly, his chest rumbling under you. You kiss him and he responds in kind.

This time there was no rush.

The morning was warm, and so were you.

5 months later

You get there early, you wanted a moment before the guests to take in your accomplishment. Sure you’d been published on websites and magazines before. Your dream has always been to live forever on an album cover. And you’d finally done it.

The venue was a sparkly room thanks to all the disco balls. They contrasted against the rich fabric and wood beams all over the space.

You take a ton of pictures to send to your friends and family.

You mingle with guests as they come in, trying not to give in too much to the hollowed out feeling that came with a string of strangers and the tiresome small talk. You smile and introduce yourself, you know this was how connections were made. In rooms like this.

You feel him come in as you give in to a second drink. You’re at the bar, and your eyes lift up to the entrance and there’s Harry. Your Harry.

Harry’s eyes skim the crowd looking for someone. His someone. No other person mattered until he could locate her. That’s how it felt these days. A million faces could blur by but hers was the one he looked for every time.

He sees her. Looking at him. Of course she’s already spotted him.

You watch as his face splits into an eager smile, his hand raising above his head.

Harry was like fresh lemonade poured into a cup of ice, all of the tiring talks and fake smiles from before vanish as you drink him in. He’s looking at you, only you. You’re looking at only him.

“Sorry I’m late,” he says as a greeting.

“That’s alright,” you peck his lips. “I was just taking a breather.”

“Is the band here? My phone died on the ride so I couldn’t check in.”

“I thought I saw one of them somewhere in that crowd,” you point to the right.

Harry had gotten you this gig. It was the third thing he’d helped you get and slowly you were able to take on less and less wedding and marketing jobs and focus on the music industry. It filled your days and nights with passion-fuelled hard work. You loved every second of it.

And when you weren’t working, you spent time with Harry. It had been 5 months since you started dating. Neither of you questioned what your labels were. You just knew there was nothing else you two could be.

You teased him a lot, how he took the long way to finally recognize the truth. But he made up for it all the time. He made sure you knew how you were the only one for him.

“That is one perfect album,” Harry slips his hand around your waist. Your photograph is blown out to a tapestry and hangs in the middle of the space. It was a sophomore album for the band and with their debut a hit, this tapestry was going to be signed and auctioned. Eventually it would sit somewhere, your photograph, coveted as a piece of music history.

“This is unreal,” you squeeze Harry. “How amazing is it that we both got to work on this album in our own specialties?”

“A perfect match I’d say,” he kisses you.

“What a pair we make,” you grin.

“I see many more shared projects in our future,” Harry promises.

“I’d like that.” It was one of the things you loved about being with Harry, your creativity and how both of you shared a similar industry at times. It brought you closer together, swapping ideas and stories.

“One day I’m going to need album art for the EP I release.”

“Ooh yes,” you clutch his arm. Lately Harry has been spending some times with his head in a brand new notebook, he said he was working on his personal project. “I can’t wait for that day. I have so many ideas of styling you.”

You had a particular image that sat on your phone from the very first night you met. One where he’s dancing alone in a crowd, red lighting casting half his face in shadow and the other in a vibrant scarlet. His eyes are closed and his brows scrunched as his body flows with movement, even in a still picture. You adored it. It was one of the best photos you ever took.

“Me?” Harry looks down at you. He knew whatever songs he pulled together for an EP would be about you. His rush to write recently were from all the time spent being in your presence. It was intense, it had only been 5 months of dating, but somehow he thought you might understand. “I was thinking the cover art could be the subject of my songs.”

“Oh?” You tilt your head.

“Yeah,” he smiles. “How do you feel about self-portraits?”

Your face grows slack as it dawns on you. He had a whole EP in mind, about you.

“Well?” He twitches his hand on your waist, tugging you a little closer.

“Self-portraits sound a bit lonely,” you will your eyes not to tear up.

“But you won’t be,” Harry tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “You have me. You won’t ever be lonely.”

“I know,” you feel the emotion catch in your throat as you gaze up into his photographic eyes. You can’t explain it but your body feels grounded—more grounded than it’s ever been. Here in his arms you felt together, like you were a book finally finding a shelf to lean on.

The two of you stand side by side and look at the people this collaborative masterpiece brought together. The room fills with the energy of the music. It was special.

"I love you," Harry reminds you.

"I love you too," you respond.

Your life hadn’t change all at once, not really. The biggest thing that changed was Harry. His presence, his attitude, his attention—it shifted. He wasn’t just a guy on the periphery, in proximity. He had you in his sights and he in yours.

You noticed small new things about him, and you wondered if everyone did. He was more confident and present, rooted to and with you. Both of you had bloomed, like caterpillars into butterflies. A pair of butterflies—you should tell him that.

Sometimes you thought you were just born lonely, it’s how it always was and has been. With Harry, you felt less lonely. You felt like things could really change for you.

You extend your hand to him and motion to the dance floor. It was a tradition now—no dance floor would go unmarked by the two of you.

He takes your hand and you lead him there. And with you in his arms he feels set free, like always.

Out of the cocoon and into the embrace of belonging, two butterflies dance in plain sight.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

hello gorgeous, I love your imagination that you put into words. I expecially like your works on daniel&gasly (maybe because they're my favorite drivers). I saw that requests are closed and you're going under the knife (hope it goes well!) but if by any chance you want/have time to write this I'll be happy. Will be pleased with whatever you choose to do with this request.

The reader is a very normal, ordinary person. Rents a flat, has a job, meets with her friends form time to time. Nothing much. Somehow hers and the drivers paths cross. He immediately falls in love with her, she feels the attraction but after one weekend with him she understands that they're too different and it certainly won't work. So he's trying to persuade her to give them a try and she always runs away when her feelings instead of brain start to win. During intimate moments she starts to make awful jokes or act like a child, everything to not let the passion take over and the driver notices that and the seducing begins.

Would love this with dan or pierre but it's up to you.

Have a lovely day! 😊

P.S: Sorry for my English, it's not my 1st language

Romantic at Heart || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Warnings: none really, smut implied WC: 2.3k

F1 Masterlist

You should have been heading straight home, just like you had promised the girls after a Friday night out, but the lights had stolen your attention. At first you thought it was a firefly, a single orange glowing tail on the brick wall. Then you spotted another, but it was blue. Then one by one you noticed them dotted along the wall, all the colours of the rainbow leading the way to the riverbank in the opposite direction to your apartment. 

Curiosity had you following the path of tiny LED lights, wondering what it might lead to. The distance between each beacon grew closer until they became clusters, like little galaxies of constellations you could wish upon. A small laugh bubbled up as you skipped along to the next one with childlike excitement, so engrossed in what you were looking at that you didn’t see where you were going.

“Oh, sorry!” you apologised as you bumped into a man, his hands scrambling to catch his camera before it could hit the pavement. “Sorry, I was distracted. Is your camera okay?”

The man had recovered it without incident and smiled as he held it up. “Mind if I check?”

“Check what?” you asked as he raised it to his eye, the lens pointed in your direction.

“If it still works. Smile!”

You laughed at the man’s confidence and you heard the shutter snap the photo before he looked at the display. “Wow, that’s perfect,” he praised, waving you over. “Come look.”

You stepped closer to the man, feeling a sense of recognition though you were certain you hadn’t met him before. He angled the camera so you could see what he had captured and your lips parted in surprise. You couldn’t understand how he had managed to take a simple photo but make it art. 

The smile on your face was pure joy, and the lights behind you had distorted under the exposure and contrast to create a halo around your head. 

“You look like an angel.”

“Oh my god,” you whispered in amazement, wishing you could have a copy for yourself. 

“God?” he chuckled as he held a hand out. “Nah, you can just call me Daniel.”

You shook his hand with a laugh, feeling like it was a sound he was used to hearing from everyone he spoke to, and gave him your name in return. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Daniel started to say and you immediately began to shift uncomfortably on your feet, “but you’re beautiful, and it’s late, what are you doing out on your own?”

“Oh, I was out with my girlfriends and on my way home when I saw these and I kind of, had to, follow them…?” you trailed off and looked back at the dark path you had wandered down, less and less lights illuminating the way home. “I guess I should be going.”

Daniel followed your gaze to the darker end of the road and hated the thought of you walking it alone. Shoving his camera into his hoodie pocket, he offered his elbow. “Care for some company on this fine evening? My mother would throttle me if she knew I let a lady walk home alone at this hour.”

You chewed your lip as you debated his offer. “Are you a serial killer?”

“Only at breakfast.” You took a sudden step back and he screwed his eyes shut as he berated himself. “Sorry, sorry, terrible joke. Terrible timing. I meant Cereal Killer…because I eat cereal for breakfast…I’m sorry.”

“That is not funny,” you said despite laughing. “I watch way too many Netflix shows for that.”

His head tilted to the side and caught the colours of the leds around you as curiosity filled his playful smile. “Have you seen that Formula One show on there?”

Your nose wrinkled at the idea and shook your head. “Sports isn’t really my thing.” Trusting your gut that he was safe enough, you looped your arm in his and set off down the road. 

“Then what is your thing?”

“Books,” you admitted, suddenly shy though you had no reason to be. “My friends actually refer to my apartment as ‘the library’. If I didn’t have to work to buy more books I don’t think anyone would see me again, I would just hole up and read.”

“There’s worse ways to spend your time,” he joked with a grin you were starting to think was perpetually painted on his face.

“Yeah, I could watch Formula one.” His smile faded and his laugh puttered out, making you instantly regret the joke. “I can hardly make fun of your thing when I’ve told you mine.”

“I don’t actually watch F1,” he admitted as he stopped walking and you turned to face him. “I’m too busy racing.”

“Racing what?” 

He blinked a few times and his lip twitched with a smile when he realised you were genuinely confused. “I race cars…in F1…for McLaren.”

You waited for the punchline to come but for the first time since meeting him, he was serious. “Oh, oh! Okay…wow. I guess that’s why I felt like I recognised you, I must have seen you somewhere. God, I feel stupid.” You laughed to yourself and sighed, whispering under your breath, “you’ve been reading too much romance.”

“You’re not stupid,” Daniel said quietly. “I feel it too.”

Your laugh was an unladylike snort of disbelief. “Don’t be silly, you don’t even know me. You don’t even know my last name or what I do for work.”

“But I want to, if you’ll give me the time to learn. Not that it matters what your job is, you aren’t your work.”

“What if I’m an escort?”

“Are you an escort?”

“Would it matter?” 

He was momentarily stunned and you saw him worrying his bottom lip and he thought of an appropriate answer. 

“I’m not, but obviously it would matter,” you clarified as you turned and started your walk again. “I’m an admin assistant, not an escort, just so you know.”

“Not a librarian?” 

You smiled as you tipped your head back to the starry night. “A girl can dream, but they aren’t positions that tend to come up very often. Even less with everything going digital.”

“You could open your own library, you already have the books apparently.” 

You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you stopped outside your apartment complex. It had been easy to get lost in the conversation with him and you almost continued walking just so the evening didn’t come to an end. 

“Apparently?” you giggled as he opened the front door for you. “Do I have to prove it to you?”

He followed you to the elevator and leaned against the wall. “Is that you inviting me up?”

It was daring and absolutely unlike you but when you looked into his eyes you knew you wanted to see more of them so you found yourself asking, “Would you say yes?”

His smile grew as he reached for the elevator button in response and hit it.

Monday morning rolled around too soon and you struggled to pull yourself out of bed to get ready for work. Daniel’s back was to you as he hugged his pillow, one arm hanging over the edge of the bed, and you saw the slightly raised marks of your nails over his tan skin. 

The weekend had been better than any of the fictional tales that filled the rooms in your house. You hadn’t even left the apartment, too engrossed in each other's company to face the outside world. But that would change as you climbed out of bed and started your usual Monday morning routine. 

“Good morning, angel,” Daniel greeted sweetly as he snuck up behind you and kissed your cheek. 

You held up the piece of toast you were eating and let him take a bite for himself. “Can I have your number?” he asked after finishing his mouthful and watching you dart around the small kitchen, packing a little lunch to take to work.

“For what?”

“So I can give it to telemarketers,” he joked as he caught you around the waist. “No, so I can call you.”

“This weekend has been…magical, but you’re a famous race car driver, and I’m, well, just me,” you said softly. “I’m under no illusion about how this ends, Daniel, we live in two different worlds.”

“That’s just a cop out,” he argued, picking up your phone and calling himself so he had your number. “I’m going to prove you wrong.” 

Three Weeks Later “Daniel’s here to see you.” You looked up from your computer to double check Jess was talking to you and found her grinning like a fool. “I can’t believe he’s actually here.”

“Who?”

Jess reached for the half empty cup of coffee she had made you and sniffed it. “Did I give you decaf? Girl, wake up! You don’t keep a man like that waiting. The PA’s are already sniffing around him.”

Pushing your chair back, you rose at the threat of the PA’s who loved to dote upon any man who had a seven figure salary. Two of the glorified assistants longed to be on Love Island and their entire personality could fit in the extremely large breasts their ex-bosses had paid for - right before the sexual harassment charges were filed. Yeah, you weren’t going to leave Daniel to fend for himself.

Leaving the back offices, you followed the scent of knock-off Marc Jacobs to the reception area where Daniel smiled and joked with the small crowd surrounding him. You were once again struck by how different your lives were, his in the spotlight and yours anything but. It was only as you moved closer that you saw how the smile didn’t reach the creases around his eyes and heard the laugh that didn’t come from deep in his belly. 

“Alright, ladies,” you interrupted the group with a wave of your hands, “thank you for keeping Daniel company, I’ll take it from here.”

A few overly keen females pouted as they stepped away and Daniel cast a grateful smile to you before pulling out the gift he had hidden behind his back. It took a second to realise why the bouquet of roses looked strange but then the confused frown was replaced with a smile as you accepted it. Every rose was made of origami, carefully folded and shaped into the blossom and you quickly recognised the lines of Pride and Prejudice, arguably the greatest romance novel of all time.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you held the meaningful bouquet to your chest. 

Daniel was all too aware of your curious co-workers still hanging around the area and dipped his head closer to yours. “There’s this angel I’ve been missing, and I just needed to see her again.”

The gesture, the words, it all made your heart skip a beat but you quashed the feelings that arose with it. “That is stalking.”

His laugh was genuine and your smile grew when you saw his reach his eyes as he corrected you, “That is romantic.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you sniffed the paper roses. “Did you spray these with your cologne?”

“The book came from a secondhand store and it smelt like mothballs, which wasn’t the vibe I was going for. I think I smell better than mothballs.”

“Wait, you made these!” Surprise floored you as you looked at them with a new appreciation. 

“With a little help and a lot of youtube,” he grinned proudly. “I would have come sooner but it took three weeks to make them all.”

The effort he made brought tears to your eyes and you hurried to blink them away. The man was absolutely relentless in his belief that the connection between you could become something more, but you still struggled to accept it. It wasn’t because you weren’t attracted to him, no that had been instant from the moment you met, you just didn’t understand how someone as famous as him could settle for someone as plain as you.

“Surely you have better things to do with your time,” you said after swallowing the lump in your throat.

“Than thinking of ways to win your heart? No way. So…can I please take you out on a date?”

Your eyes traced the roses, scanning the lines from the pages of one of your favourite books. I am happier even than Jane; she only smiles, I laugh. Daniel made you laugh, he could always make you laugh. The late night phone calls that interrupted your reading time replaced the silence in the apartment with the sound of your laughter. But would it be enough to close the distance between your worlds?

Your eyes followed another petal and felt it resonate within: Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her.

“One date,” you said as you tore your eyes away from the flowers that only seemed to call to you more, begging to find more sweet sentences among the folds. “And nowhere public. I want to actually be able to talk with you, not get swarmed by fans.”

“I can do that,” he said with a wide grin before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you tonight.”

He started to leave but he stopped as you softly called his name, looking over his shoulder from the doorway.

“Thank you for these, Daniel. No one’s ever done anything so sweet.”

“It’s just the beginning, angel,” he winked, disappearing out the door as you hid your face in the flowers that smelt just like him.

Crap, you sighed to yourself. He was worming his way into your heart, just like he planned.

[sapphire-writes]

Down in Flames (modern!HOTD) 8

previous ~ next ~ series masterlist

pairings: modern!Aegon x Reader & modern!Aemond x Reader

summary: You're all too familiar with feeling jealous and old habits die hard with the appearance of a familiar face. The siblings perform separately as Jace and Luke perform with Rhaenyra. Chaos ensues.

warnings: 18+ NSFW spicy stuff below the cut (p in v, oral m receiving, dirty talk, praising), language, drinking, violence, emotionally distressing situations

word count: 6.2k

note: I apologize for the distress this chapter is about to cause! hope you enjoy it! 💚

masterlist

“What happened?” Baela had asked you, as you tore through the studio like a woman possessed. 

Aemond remembered it clearly, the wild look in your eye, the way you grabbed Aegon by the collar of his shirt, lifting him from the couch. It was the first time, Aemond recalled, that Aegon had been unfaithful to you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you asked him, Aegon’s head lolling in response, “Aegon look at me!”

“What did he do?” Baela asked, eyes wide, looking towards Aemond for help. He offered none, not moving from his spot on the stage.

His eyes locked on you, not that you had noticed then. 

“Aegon!” you yelled again, but your boyfriend said nothing. Your eyes narrowed as you released your grip from his shirt. 

“Fuck this,” you told him, “I’m fucking done.”

Aemond felt his heart pounding in his chest and watched you leave the studio, bag in hand. Baela trailed behind you. He knew it. Knew it was only a matter of time. Two months was long for Aegon after all, he was bound to get bored. Though you had outlasted any girl who came before.

Pleased with the scene, Aemond began to strum his bass. Aegon blinked as if realizing what had happened. 

“Shit,” he whispered and Aemond stopped playing.

His brother’s brow furrowed, eyes welling with tears. He glanced toward Aemond, a desperate look on his face.

“What do I do?” he asked him, “What do I…?”

Aemond felt his heart leap into his throat. He should have told him to leave it, to let you go. Perhaps Aemond could approach you, and do what he should have done the first night he saw you.

“I can’t lose her,” Aegon whimpered, “Shit I…I really liked her.”

Let her go.

“Fuck what do I do?”

Let her go.

But fear took root in Aemond’s gut. What if this was it? What if this was the end of you? He didn’t even know if there was a door open for him at this point, the brother of your ex-boyfriend. The brother you’d only spoken a few words to over the past months. Aemond answered his brother’s plea. 

“Go after her then,” Aemond told his brother instead, thinking only of himself. 

Aegon looked at his brother, surprised by the answer he gave. He looked at the floor and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah you’re right,” Aegon said, rubbing his eyes. 

And he did. Again and again, he went after you. Fucked up, time and time again, and yet Aemond would come home and see you making out with him on your couch. Hear you screaming at him at all hours of the night. Doors slamming, glass shattering. 

Aegon always ran after you. And you always came back.

Aemond reached his breaking point at the eight-month mark of you and Aegon. He and you barely spoke, Aemond simply observed you from afar. Until you suddenly provoked him. 

He couldn’t even remember what he and Luke were arguing about, which was a rarity in itself since Aemond made a point to remember every fault of Luke’s. All he remembered was the rage on your face, how you’d pushed against his chest, leaving a trail of fire behind as though your fingertips were pure fire. 

Aemond had smiled at you and then taunted you.

“What’re you going to do about it, princess?” he had said, hoping you’d push him again.

Push me, yell at me, be angry with me. Hate me, if you must, just give me something. I’ll take anything you have to give, Aemond thought to himself. 

It was a rush, pushing you to the brink of anger, capturing your attention fully. Aemond grew drunk with the feeling, the tension between you both. 

“Fuck you!” you said, lunging at him, and Aemond laughed in your face.

Jace had picked you up like a sack of potatoes, slinging you over his shoulder and carrying you from the room. Baela’s eyes had been wide, as she faced Aemond.

“You shouldn’t tease her like that,” she accused, causing Aemond to shrug.

But Aemond was already too far gone. You had looked at him, talked to him, been nearly in the throws of angry passion with him. The feeling had his blood singing in his veins, his cock hard.

If he couldn’t have your love, he’d have your rage. 

“I’ll do as I please,” he told Baela, who simply shook her head.

“Your funeral,” she told him. 

When you arrive home at Aegon and Aemond’s apartment the following morning, you’re met with steady silence once again. Though Aegon has definitely been home, this is evident by the used condom that lies on the floor in the living room.

“Fucking gross,” you say, nose curling at the sight, “Aegon!”

There is no response. You open the door of his bedroom and see his messed up sheets, and someone’s missing lace thong laying on the floor. Perhaps it’s Cass’s but with Aegon, you can never be sure. 

He’s like a ghost, disappearing in the wind. How did you ever date him?

Aemond grabs a paper towel, wrapping several layers around his hand before picking up the condom and throwing it into the trash. You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest before sitting down, letting yourself sink into the sofa.

“You look stressed,” Aemond comments, sitting in a chair across from him.

“I’m angry,” you tell him.

He smirks, lacing his fingers together. 

“He’s always been like this,” Aemond says shrugging, “since he was like thirteen.”

“Guess he never grew up,” you tell him, and Aemond hums in response.

“How do you feel about all this?” you ask, “Rhaenyra suing and everything.”

Aemond licks his lips, sighing. 

“I just do what they tell me,” he admits, shrugging his shoulders.

“Otto, you mean,” you say for clarification and Aemond nods.

“And Helaena,” he tells you, “she loves performing. I’m not going to let Nyra take that from her.”

You lean back into the couch. Though messed up, you hadn’t thought much about how Helaena must be feeling about all of this. You’ve been too wrapped up in your own drama. You make a mental note to check in with her and be the friend she deserves. 

“Aegon really fucked this all up, huh?” you ask.

“It’s complicated,” Aemond tells you, “we’re all part of the problem somehow.”

He paused, taking a moment to ponder.

“Maybe not Hel.”

“Hel is an angel,” you agree. 

Aemond’s phone rings then and he pulls it from his pocket. You catch sight of Otto’s name. Speak of the devil. Aemond sighs. 

“I’m gonna take this,” he says rising, “make a few calls.”

You nod. Any information about Rhaenyra’s lawsuit is welcome, even if it’s from Otto Hightower. 

“Yeah I’m going to shower anyway,” you tell him, rising from the sofa and heading down the hall.

You hear Aemond answer as you close the door behind you. You try to let the hot water wash away your fears, and the anxiety you feel about the band. But nothing seems to work. Thoughts spin around your head. Aegon. Rhaena. Rhaenyra. Otto. This whole family is being torn apart.

You walk to Aemond’s room after you finish with your hair and moisturizing your body. You still don’t really have clothes here, so you poke through his closet settling for another one of his signature black t-shirts. The familiar scent of his cologne wafts over you as you pull it over your head.

You shake your head, droplets of water flying from your hair as something catches your eye in his closet. You tilt your head curiously before reaching down, fingers wrapping around a sleek black tube of lipstick. You look at the name of the color. Dragonfire.

You open the tube, revealing the blood-red color, the tip slightly dull from being used. You’ve seen it before on the painted lips of Alys Rivers. The only remnants of her left in Aemond’s room. You know he hasn’t seen her but a wave of jealousy suddenly rolls through you. You cap the lipstick, feeling unfairly angry.

You’ve no right, and your rational mind knows it. But something comes over you, memories of Aegon cheating, the things you found in his room. Images of Aemond and Alys come to the forefront of your mind, her crimson lips smearing marks of ownership down his neck, across his face, down the v-line of his hips…

Suddenly you’re storming out of his bedroom, and down the hall. 

He hears you coming, the soft pitter-patter of your bare feet entering the room as he’s sitting back on the couch, not looking up from his phone. 

“Otto wants us to perform tonight,” he tells you as you place a hand on your hip, “apparently Rhaenyra is playing with Jace and Luke.”

You don’t answer, causing him to look up. His face scrunches in confusion at your expression before locking on the lipstick tube you hold in your hand. Aemond tosses his phone to the side, leaning back.

“What?” he asks.

“What do you mean what?” you ask, “why do you have this?”

Aemond’s eyebrows raise.

“It’s Alys’ lipstick,” he tells you, “we used to hook up.”

“Yeah, I know that Aemond,” you tell him, rolling your eyes.

Aemond fights the urge to smile, only making you more furious. You can feel a hot blush creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks. 

“Why is it here?” you ask.

“I didn’t know it was,” he tells you, “she must have left it.”

“Right,” you tell him, throwing the tube at him and turning away. 

He catches it against his chest, his other hand reaching around your wrist, stopping you from leaving. Aemond tosses the lipstick across the room, pulling you into his lap. You avoid his eyes as he wraps your legs around him, holding you securely by the thighs as though you may escape. He bites his lip looking up at you. 

You cross your arms over your chest. 

“Hey,” Aemond says, arms tightening around you, pressing you closer to him. 

You keep looking away, feeling foolish and angry all at once. No, not just that. 

Feeling jealous. 

Jealous of Alys, the stunning older woman who captured Aemond’s attention. The only woman who ever had his affection before you. What did she have that entranced him for so long, kept her around for so long? The wondering left a bitter taste in your mouth, a constricting feeling in your throat. 

“Princess,” Aemond purrs, bringing a hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

“What?” you snap. 

Aemond grins voraciously.

“Is my pretty girl jealous?” he murmurs, as you tug away from his hand.

“No,” you lie, turning your head away from him once more. 

Aemond hums, leaning forward, kissing the side of your neck. 

“There’s no need to be,” he tells you between kisses, one hand tangling in your hair, the other disappearing under your shirt. 

He chuckles against you, feeling nothing underneath as you begin to grind against him, his fingers rubbing against your hip bone. Aemond brings his other hand to your breast, kneading the soft mound before bringing his attention to the other. 

“I’m all yours baby,” he says, dragging his lips up to yours.

Your arms have uncrossed, lacing themselves around his neck, eyes fluttering shut. He’s your puppetmaster, pulling all the right strings. 

“Always have been,” he whispers before connecting his lips to yours.

He deepens the kiss, tugging your hair at the roots causing you to whine into his mouth. You tug his hair back, fingers caught in his silver tresses. You pull away from him for a moment.

“You’re mine,” you whisper, meeting his eyes, “and I’m yours.”

Aemond searches your eyes, nodding eagerly before you kiss him again. His hands move to your waist, rocking you against his hardening cock, still constrained within his pants. He lifts the edge of your shirt, pulling it off of your body, leaving you naked on top of him. Your hands drop to his shirt, breaking the kiss once more to tear it from his muscular frame. 

“Take these off,” you beg, tugging at his pants. 

Aemond lifts you up, laying you down on the couch. You prop yourself on your elbows as he unbuckles his belt, hands reaching to help him. You return to a seated position, tugging down his pants, mouth watering as he chuckles. 

“So impatient,” he scolds, as you free his cock.

The tip is flushed, already weeping with precum as you wrap your fingers around it, licking the vein that pulsates underneath all the way until your tongue flattens against the slit. The salty taste of his cum washes over your tongue and you moan, batting your lashes looking up at him.

His cock twitches and you smile.

“Looks like you’re the impatient one,” you tease. 

Aemond’s lips part. You haven’t been this bold in bed with him yet, he’s always had the upper hand. You pump his length once before wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking. Aemond’s hands tangle in your hair as you take him deeper into your mouth. You feel him brush against the back of your throat gagging slightly as your throat constricts around him.

“Fuuck,” he breathes, eyes hooded looking down at you.

You keep your eyes on him, even as they begin to water with how deep you’re taking him. You release him from your mouth taking a moment to jerk him off, before placing one of his balls in your mouth. Aemond lets out a strangled moan as you gently suck, before moving your attention to the other one.

You relish Aemond’s moans a moment more, the closing of his eye, how he tilts his head back, before returning your attention to his cock. You bring your hand to cup his balls squeezing gently, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs. Aemond looks back down at you as you suck his cock, before yanking you by your hair, off of him. You look up, eyes teary, lips bruised and swollen, a strand of saliva connecting you to him. 

“Lay down,” he commands, taking control of the situation.

You move to lay on your back when he stops you, hands tightly gripping your hips.

“Ah ah ah,” he says, turning you around, “get that perfect ass in the air.”

You swallow as you turn on the couch pressing your face into the cushions and arching your back, presenting your ass to him. Aemond positions himself behind you, dragging his cock along your soaking folds. 

“Silly girl,” he croons, tapping his cock against your clit, sending sparks of pleasure dancing through your center.

“Aemond,” you moan.

“There’s no other pussy for me,” he tells you, pushing inside of you, pressing in at a torturously slow pace.

The feeling of him inside of you is one you’ll never tire of. A whine leaves your lips, as he bottoms out, balls slapping against you. His hands dig into your hips as he snaps against you, the curve of his cock never failing to locate that spongy spot inside you, rubbing against it until you’re trembling.

“Fucking love this pussy,” Aemond growls, slapping your ass, “all fucking mine.”

“Yes Aemond, fuck,” you whimper, a puddle of drool forming as he fucks you into the couch. 

His hips snap against you, as he grabs your hair, lifting your face off the couch. He pulls you up, using your hair as a leash to bring your back flush against his chest. Aemond’s cock never stops sliding in and out, as your walls greedily accept him, clenching around him as if trying to keep him nestled inside your warmth. 

Aemond wraps a hand around your throat, positioning your face so you look at him. His violet eye is blown black with lust, the sapphire prosthetic staring at you, winking in the light. His free hand roams down over your breasts, to where you are connected. He presses against your lower stomach feeling his cock bulging, the pleasure nearly blinding you. He kisses you as you whine, still pressing firmly into you.

“You feel that baby?” he murmurs against your mouth, “feel me deep inside you?”

“Yes,” you sob, as his hand splays out, long fingers toying with your clit.

“There’s nothing to be jealous of,” he purrs, beginning to kiss your neck again, causing you to spasm against him, “it's all yours baby, all for you.”

“Fuck,” you whine, your orgasm building with each thrust, each press of his hand, each swirl of his fingers. 

“You’re my girl,” he promises, “all mine, hmm?”

“Yes yes, Aemond please-”

“Please what baby?” he asks, biting into your shoulder.

“Please, I’m gonna come-”

“Are you my good girl? Huh?” he asks, slapping your clit when you don’t answer quickly enough.

The sharp enticing sting of his slap has tears escaping the corner of your eyes. 

“Yes! Please, I am, I am!” you’re practically screaming as he circles your clit once more, soothing the sensitive bud, winding the coil of pressure in your abdomen tighter.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he praises and that’s it, the final straw that sends you into a moaning frenzy. You’re clenching and squirting all over his cock as he holds you tightly against him.

He fucks you through your orgasm, prolonging the pleasure as he releases it inside of you. You gently remove yourself from his cock, hissing at the emptiness, turning to face him. You wrap your arms around his neck straddling him once more as he sits down, pressing kisses up his jaw, over his face.

Aemond is smiling all the while as you adorn his face with soft kisses, smoothing hair from your face that clings to your cheeks and forehead with sweat. 

“You know I haven’t been with her since we slept together, right?” he murmurs.

“What about at Dragonpit?” you ask.

He smiles wolfishly and your eyes widen at the sudden realization.

“You were trying to make me jealous,” you accuse and he shrugs.

“Did it work?”

“Yes, clearly, from us fucking in the bathroom,” you hiss, face flushing at the memory.

“Alys is my past,” he continues, “you are my present, my future…” 

His sentence trails off. A feeling of overwhelming emotion swells in your chest as you place a kiss against his lips. 

“I know I was being silly,” you tell him, “I just want you all to myself.”

 “What do you call this?” he says, slapping both your asscheeks.

You squeak, giggling as he grips the soft flesh in his hands, connecting your lips to his once more. You’re sure you’ll never tire of kissing him, the feeling of his pouty lips against yours has you scraping your nails against his scalp. 

“I know,” you sigh, as he kisses your jaw.

“Good,” he mumbles, nipping at your neck.

Your eyelids flutter, feeling him already growing hard once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. The man has stamina like you would not believe. The rounds of sex you go through in a night are insane as though he’ll never get enough of you. You shake your head before the lust overtakes you and he’s plunging inside of you once more.

“You said you’re performing later?” you ask breathlessly as he kisses your collarbone.

“Mhmm,” he says, bringing his mouth to your breast, taking your nipple in his mouth.

You arch your back, pressing it closer to him. 

“Daeron’s on the drums,” he mumbles, teeth gently biting you.

“Daeron?” you ask, “so just the siblings?”

“I guess so,” Aemond says, moving you to lie on your back.

“What does this all mean?” you gasp, as he positions himself above you, stroking his length. 

“I’m not sure,” he says, pressing into you once more.

Your mind is racing, thoughts flowing in every direction. Is Otto trying to form a new band? With just the siblings? Are Jace and Luke going to stay with Rhaenyra? What about Rhaena? Oh shit, you’ve forgotten about everything happening and-

“Hey,” Aemond’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.

“Everything is just so fucked,” you tell him, “what is happening?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Aemond promises, kissing your collarbone, “but let me take care of you right now.”

“You already took care of me,” you argue as he thrusts into you, stealing the breath from your lungs once more.

“No,” he murmurs, “if you don’t come on my cock more than once, I’m doing something wrong.”

“Mhmm,” you moan in satisfaction, “lucky me.”

“Lucky indeed,” he agrees, hooking your leg over his shoulder and continuing. 

You make your way to the location Helaena had texted to you later that night. A modest club, Storm’s End. Aemond said the band had played here before, in the early days before Rhaenyra split. 

You leave Aemond with Helaena and Daeron as they set up and begin their first song. Aegon sits on the edge of the stage, only standing when Helaena gently tugs on his shoulder. You stand in the crowd for a moment watching them as the music begins. It’s so weird to see them up there without Jace and Luke. 

It’s weird being in the crowd without Baela and Rhaena.

Your throat tightens and you can feel tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. Everything is changing. You turn away, determined to get a drink when someone at the bar catches your eye. 

Alys Rivers. 

Your blood begins boiling at the sight of her, sitting at the end of the bar, twirling a plastic sword between her tongue and teeth. She’s wearing all black tonight and must have replaced the stupid tube of lipstick she left in Aemond’s room because her lips are coated in the signature red Dragonfire. You expect her gaze to be locked on Aemond, but instead, her green eyes are focused on you. A sly smile slides onto her face as you meet her eyes.

You decide to not be shy, and waltz over to her, shoulders back with confidence. You’re done sharing a man with other women, and Alys Rivers has got to go.

“Y/N,” Alys purrs, eyes roaming over you.

“Hey Alys,” you tell her, waving for the bartender.

Alys watches you order and watches you take a sip as the bartender hands it to you. The alcohol burns a trail of confidence down your throat. You ready yourself to speak, but Alys beats you to it.

“I hear you’re with Aemond now,” she says casually, releasing a small laugh at your shocked expression.

“You have nothing to worry about,” she tells you, discarding the plastic sword and taking a sip from her own glass. She’s drinking wine, the dark red matching her lipstick. A smart move, to disguise the stain it would leave on her lips.

“I wasn’t worried,” you tell her. It’s not a complete lie.

Alys smiles at you, knowingly. Her eyes drift over you as if she can read the thoughts racing in your mind. 

“He always had a thing for you, you know?” she tells you.

You raise your eyebrows at her in question. You reflect momentarily on you and Aemond’s relationship prior. Her statement seems far-fetched. 

“It’s true,” she insists, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Her hand lingers, nails softly tracing down your neck. Your cheeks flush and her smile grows. 

“I was always open for a third,” she tells you, her gaze seductive, “it’s Aemond who didn’t want to share you.”

You think about that night at The Red Keep, how they both watched you. How Alys whispered into his ear. Was she asking about you then? Had she asked about you more than once? Had Aemond talked about you to her? The thought sends a shiver down your spine.

“What?” you ask, glancing toward the stage.

“Possessive, that one is,” Alys murmurs, sipping her drink.

“I’m not really down for that either,” you tell her, words suddenly spilling from your lips, “it’s just him and me.”

Her head tilts to the side, a sly smile on her face.

“Pity,” she says, grabbing her clutch, “bye Y/N.”

“Bye,” you hiccup, pursing your lips together tightly. 

How much stranger can this night get? The set ends, the band bowing and accepting the crowd’s cheers. Aegon’s drink sloshes in his hand, Helaena places a hand on his back, guiding him off the stage. 

Rhaenyra and the boys are next. Jace and Luke really agreed to play with her. Your eyes search for Baela and Rhaena, but you don’t see them. As the Targaryens move backstage, you move toward the stage. Aegon brushes by you, headed in the opposite direction toward the bar. 

“Where’s Cass?” you ask, earning a groan from him.

“Fuck if I know,” he grumbles.

You scoff, turning away from him. Luke has hopped onstage, fiddling with his guitar. 

“Luke!” you call, and his head perks up, “Bae and Rhae here?”

“No, they had to help their granddad with something,” he tells you, shaking his head, “we’re supposed to meet them later, you wanna join?”

“Maybe, thanks though,” you tell him, disappointed. 

“Anytime, troublemaker,” Luke says smiling wide, earning a small chuckle from you. 

You need to make up with Rhaena. You have to. The tension has been eating away at your insides since the night she found out about Aemond and you.

You make your way backstage, forcing a smile on your face.

“What did you think?” Daeron asks, a goofy grin plastered across his face.

“You killed it,” you tell him, ruffling his hair as he tries to pull away.

“Man, c’mon,” he groans, fixing his hair. 

Helaena stands near Aemond, clearly lost in conversation, until Aemond notices your entrance. He touches Helaena’s shoulder before walking over to you. Helaena walks to the door as the music begins from the main room, silver hair disappearing behind her. 

“Hey,” he says, smiling, “I saw you with Alys.”

Your stomach tightens.

“I don’t know why she showed up,” he tells you, “but I’ll make sure she understands it's over.”

“She does,” you tell him, causing him to raise an eyebrow in question, “I talked to her.”

His lips curl into a smirk.

“Oh did you?” he asks, fingers brushing against your hip.

“Mhmm,” you tell him, leaning into his touch, “told her I’d kill her if she came near you again.”

Aemond chuckles at that, pulling you closer.

“I think I like you a little jealous,” he murmurs, lips close to your ear.

“Don’t get used to it,” you warn him, “I’m crazy you know?” 

“Let me make it up to you later,” he whispers, fingers digging into your waist. 

“Yeah?” you nearly moan, eyes fluttering shut as he places a kiss below your ear.

“Mhmm, I think you’ll find I’m very convincing.”

“Can you guys get a room?”

Your eyes open, meeting Daeron’s disgusted look.

“Gross,” he says, though he smiles. 

You can hear Rhaenyra’s voice flowing through the door, and you move to go watch their set. You haven’t heard Rhaenyra sing in a long time, her voice is reminiscent of Helaena’s but deeper, more soulful. 

You watch her onstage, Jace slamming down on the drums behind her. Luke plays his guitar, mouth open in focus, nodding his head. Daemon stands off to the side, watching Rhaenyra, smirking slightly. It’s like he’s always got that goddamn smirk on his face, as though he knows something bad is about to happen. 

You stand next to Helaena, Aemond following close behind. 

“She sounds good,” Helaena breathes, smiling softly at her sister, “she sings so beautifully.”

You smile at Helaena, at her kind words. No matter the situation, Helaena always seems to find the good, like she simply cannot help being kind. She’s the eye of the hurricane. She meets your eyes smiling, when a glass flies by your head, exploding on the stage at Rhaenyra’s feet.

She stops singing, as another glass shatters on the amp. You turn to spot Aegon at the bar, reaching behind for another glass to throw as the bartender attempts to wrestle it from his grip.

“Aegon!” Helaena yells, pushing through the crowd toward her brother.

“Fuck you!” Aegon yells at the bartender, smashing the glass against his head. 

“Oh shit!” you yell, eyes wide, hurrying to Helaena’s side. 

Aegon slips from the bar, cutting his arm on some broken glass and sliding to the floor. Helaena drops beside him.

“Get up, you have to go now!” Helaena says, tugging him to his feet.

“Fuck off me Hel,” he grumbles, pushing her away. 

He reaches behind the bar grabbing a bottle of whiskey. 

“Aegon don’t do this right now!” Helaena says, grabbing him by the ear.

Aegon yelps, twisting into Helaena’s grip as she tugs him from behind the bar. 

“Come on Aegon!” you tell him.

“Go fuck yourself, Y/N, or better yet, fuck my brother, or maybe Daeron wants a turn with you as well,” Aegon sneers. 

You slap him across the face, your hand leaving a red imprint behind. He turns back to you, eyes murderous as Aemond appears beside you. 

“Let’s go,” Aemond says, grabbing Aegon by the scruff of the neck and dragging him outside. 

You follow close behind, grabbing Helaena’s hand.

“Where’s Daeron?” she asks.

“Still inside,” you tell her, and she releases your hand.

“I’ll go find him,” Helaena says, heading back in. 

As Helaena opens the door, Jace and Luke come outside. Jace’s keys jingle in his hand. Aegon sees them and begins to laugh.

“Fucking losers man,” he tells them, “hanging from Nyra’s tit.”

“You need help, Aegon,” Jace says simply, “hope you get it.”

Aegon closes his mouth, slightly swaying where he stands. He sniffles, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. His hand is still bandaged from the family dinner. His eyes are bloodshot, but you’ve barely noticed as this is his usual state as of late.

“Fuck you,” Aegon mutters.

Jace and Luke get into their car. Luke rolls down the window.

“We’re meeting Baela and Rhaena at Last Hearth, if you wanna swing by,” Luke tells you, “she misses you, Y/N, even if she doesn’t say.”

You can feel your heart breaking in your chest.

“Yeah, okay, maybe later,” you tell him, and the brothers begin to drive away, Jace waving at you.

“You fucking traitors!” Aegon yelled, throwing the bottle at Jace’s car. 

It smashes off the bumper as they pull away, driving into the night. Aegon screams, full of nothing but rage, the sound truly frightening you. The night sky seems to answer him, a rumble of thunder shaking the ground as the clouds open up. Fat drops of freezing rain begin to fall, soaking through your clothes, and causing your teeth to chatter.

“I’m taking you home, right now,” Aemond said, grabbing Aegon by his neck.

Aegon’s hair is drenched, plastered against his forehead. Aemond’s long hair has begun to curl as the droplets of water glitter like diamonds. Lightning cracks through the sky, illuminating the scene in front of you. 

“Fuck you,” Aegon whines, nearly too drunk to stand or protest.

Aemond leads him to the car, Aegon’s feet dragging through puddles of rain water. 

“Get in the car Aegon,” you beg, holding the door open.

Aemond lifts him into the backseat laying him down horizontally. You slam the door shut turning to face Aemond. 

“Let me take him home, then I’ll come back,” Aemond tells you.

The rain is pouring now, puddles begin to form around you as though the earth wasn’t prepared for this amount of rain coming on so quickly. It sloshes against your feet, soaking through the shoes you wear. 

“Yeah, okay,” you tell him, “I’ll stay with Helaena.”

Aemond nods, kissing you on the forehead, before getting into the driver’s side. Your heart cinches in your chest as the door closes behind him. You walk up to the door.

“Aemond!” you say, knocking on the window.

He rolls it down. Aegon groans from the back seat. Your eyes flicker toward him, then back to Aemond. 

“Just hurry, okay?” you tell him, and he nods.

The car takes off, following in the same direction as Jace and Luke. 

You watch the taillights disappear, red eyes disappearing into the night before heading back inside. You shake the cold rain from your hair, teeth chattering as the air inside begins to warm you.

You run into Rhaenyra, she must have just finished changing as she now wears a red leather jacket, silver hair tucked into a loose low ponytail, and an unlit cigarette dangling between her lips. You’ve never realized how much she looks like Aemond until now. They both have the same sharp features, prominent noses balanced perfectly in the middle of their faces. And the lavender eyes are, of course, hard to miss. 

Rhaenyra looks you up and down, you’ve only spoken a few times in the past. 

“Aegon gone?” she asks, cigarette bobbing up and down.

You’ll always be attached to him in some way, even now when you’re not together. Aegon’s former girlfriend. Aegon’s groupie. Aegon’s. 

“Can you just drop it now?” you ask, desperation making your voice crack, “the lawsuit, he’s not going to perform anymore, look at him! Aegon could barely stay on stage. Aemond doesn’t even want to anymore, and now they’re dragging Daeron into it. Just stop this Nyra.”

She scoffs, lighting the cigarette. She seems to not care about being inside as tendrils of smoke begin to fill the air. Your nose crinkles. 

“They started it,” she tells you, blowing a cloud of smoke. 

“But you can finish it,” you tell her, “please.”

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow at you.

“Did you ask them to drop it?” she asks, “to not steal my song?”

“Yes,” you tell her, “but it's more complicated than that..”

“You sound like everyone else,” Rhaenyra says, shaking her head, “it’s not complicated. It’s mine. Always has been.”

“It belonged to all of you,” you accuse, “before you went solo.”

Rhaenyra’s face hardens at the slight accusation you hurl at her.  

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tells you, “you weren’t around then. You have no fucking idea what it was like.”

“Maybe,” you agree, “but I get it now. It’s killing you all. This band, this song, this fucking family.”

You can feel your eyes welling with tears. Rhaenyra glances at you, before quickly averting her gaze. You feel desperate to convince her; if you can convince Rhaenyra to stop this, maybe everything will be okay. 

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” you insist, “it shouldn’t be like this.”

Daemon appears then, a leather jacket thrown over his shoulder, a smug smile on his face. His silver hair is pushed out of his face as though someone has run their hands through it. He gives you a once-over before slinging an arm around Rhaenyra.

“Y/N,” he purrs, “always a pleasure.”

You wipe away the tears that have escaped. Daemon looks at Rhaenyra and back to you, noticing he has interrupted something. Neither you nor Rhaenyra speaks for a moment, both staring at each other. 

“Let’s get out of here, babe,” Rhaenyra finally says, dropping her cigarette and crushing it beneath the pointed toe of her boot.

You groan in frustration as they leave, phone buzzing in your pocket. You look at the caller id, momentarily forgetting how to breathe as you read Rhaena’s name. You think of what Luke said, how she misses you. You miss her too. This is your chance to make things right, a peace offering. She’s offering you an olive branch. Shakily, you answer.

“Rhae?” you say, bringing the phone to your ear.

You’re met with the sound of sobs, a violent, hysterical noise on the other end of the line. Your heart drops into your stomach. 

“Rhae? What is it, what’s wrong?” you ask, heart beating erratically, panic elevating your tone.

“Y/N, you need to come quick, come now,” Rhaena says, her voice choked from her sobs.

“What is it? What happened?” you ask, already pushing back into the crowd, desperate to find Helaena and Daeron.

The lights have turned on, the last call has already happened. The lights are blinding, the music has turned off and your ears are ringing trying to adjust to the soft sounds of conversations around you. 

“There’s been an accident,” Rhaena sobs, “Oh my god Y/N you need to hurry, it’s Luke-”

Your blood runs cold.

“What kind of accident? Rhae?” you ask desperately.

“Just come to the Citadel ER, come no-” the line goes dead. 

You look at your phone. It wasn’t yours, it was Rhaena’s. You try to call her back, bile rising in your throat, stomach churning. It goes straight to voicemail. Fucking Rhaena never charges her goddamn phone before going out.

An accident. Something happened. You feel like you might be sick. 

Aemond and Aegon were driving right behind them. 

Your whole body is shaking as you go down your contacts. Your finger slips, sending you to ‘S’ the opposite of where you want to be. You steady your hand. You reach Aemond’s name and click, holding the phone to your ear.

It rings and rings.

No answer.

You try again.

Ring, ring, ring.

You’re still trying him when Helaena reaches you, her violet eyes wide. 

Aemond doesn’t pick up.

A/N: everyone please take a deep breath, I apologize for the emotional distress I hope you still love me cause ily 🫣 🥺

DIF taglist: @padfooteyes, @herfantasyworldd, @kyuupidwrites, @lost-and-founds, @doublesparrows, @virginslut08, @f4ll-for-you, @violet2507, @itsabby15, @raphaellathedragon, @tswiftsthings, @cruelmissdior, @tempt-ress, @lexyr23, @reneki, @fictionalcomforts, @serrhaewin, @yariany02, @lily174, @nina2697, @minttea07, @queenofshinigamis, @duesobabe, @maximizedrhythms, @arryn-nyx, @arcadianmoonlight @kittykylax, @hiatuswhore, @issshhh, @echos-muses, @wrendermeuseless, @youcantbesirius, @partypoison00 @chainsawsangel @bellameshipper @wondergal2001, @arcielee @rwdkarla @sweetsweetpsyche @valeric-writes @sahvlren @ohdemimonde @geminidas @darkenchantress @sophielangdonx, @khaothick, @flavorofsalt, @spinachtz, @alitaar, @crazylokonugget @eddiemadmunson, @schniiipsel, @borikenlove, @afro-hispwriter, @whitefang1919, @sarcastically-defensive17, @paprikaquinn, @minttea07

bold means I couldn't tag

[racinggirl]

Collision of hearts - 01

Lando Norris x OC (Fayenne Jackson)

word count: 2k warnings: none notes: I hope you like the first chapter, please let me know what you think about the piece at the end, I'm planning on incorporating that a lot more! Any way of feedback, whether it's positive, negative, in the comments, in my asks, as a reblog in the tags is very very welcome <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, read the bottom of this post 🧡

masterlist (will be up somewhere this week)

prologue

next part

🏎️ = Lando

⛸️ = Fay(enne)

⛸️

‘’You go first, I don’t want to be the one falling through the ice, that’s cold!’’

I let out a soft chuckle as my friend, Melanie, stood at the edge of the lake, a scarf around her neck, gloves around her fingers as she looked from the ice to me, very quickly. See, I loved to skate, it was something I used to do when I was little, something to escape the world for just a moment. No, I wasn’t a professional skater, I wish I was, though. I started on some home-made skates my father made me for my 6th birthday. I fell, a lot, but that’s part of life. You fall, get up, fall again, and keep trying till you get better and better, and that’s exactly what I did.

I’m 23 now, and my best friend is holding her phone with her right hand, positioning it so she’d capture the perfect content for when I’d fall through the ice.

‘’It’s been freezing for almost a week straight, Mel, the ice is thick enough!’’ A smile appears on my face when I hear the metal of my skates touch the still untouched ice. It was a beautiful sound, soft, but it pierced through my ears like it was the only thing I could hear. A few steps onto the ice, and I slowly turned around, watching how Melanie slowly put away her phone.

‘’Damnit, that would have made some great content to be fair.’’ She looked over at me with a smirk, a playful one, because I knew she didn’t mean that.

Melanie, she has been my best friend ever since kindergarten. We basically grew up together, only under very different circumstances. We finished primary school together, and even secondary school. However, after that, she went into a different direction for her career, one my parents would never allow me to take. She started modelling, and I was lying when I’d say I wasn’t jealous of her. She started of doing a few shoots for some of her boyfriends at the time. I know what you might be thinking, but Mel would never do THOSE kinds of shoots. She wasn’t your everyday influencer Instagram model, not at all, she’s smart, and made sure to have a backup while modelling.

‘’Come on! It’ll be fun, and totally safe.’’ I teased, skating around the lake to make sure every bit of the water at the top was frozen. I felt like a fish in the water, but on the ice, and not a fish, because that would be… You know what I mean. I felt like home on the ice. Like I said before, I’m not a professional skater. I’m actually a lawyer. I ended law school this year, and I couldn’t be happier to have finished it and never look into those books ever again. I’m a terrible lawyer, at least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.

‘The only way to do great work is to love what you do’

And well, I don’t love it. I hate it, even. I know many people would want to have a law degree, I know many people would want to finally have that paper and help people, help the innocent ones. But that’s the thing, you don’t get to choose who you defend, especially as a beginner. You take every job you can get, and that’s mostly not the one of the victim’s defenders. You’ll have to work with stubborn people, criminals, the so called ‘bad guys’.

‘’Okay, okay, fine, hold my hand.’’ I skate towards my best friend and hold out my hand for her, making sure she would be stable on the ice before we moved on the slippery surface.

‘’You’re doing great, Mel, just remember, lean forward, and focus on where you want to go.’’

Melanie has supported me every step of the way, even when I finished my degree and got a job at the local skate centre instead of being a lawyer, the path my parents set out for me. It was a hard decision, and one that came with consequences, but it was the first time I had actually gone against my parent’s commands. I felt torn, because they were the ones that paid for my university, they were the ones that made all the effort and what did I do? I just chose my own way, my own path, after everything they did for me. I know they want to see me happy, but telling them I wouldn’t be happy pursuing my career as a lawyer was the hardest thing to do, and they didn’t take it well. That’s why I moved out. That’s why I took the job as a skate instructor for the little kids, ages around 7 to 9, at the local skate centre.

‘’I have a better idea, why don’t we grab a hot chocolate and have dinner at my place tonight? I heard there’s this new club opening, and guess who got tickets for the grand opening?’’ She tugged my hands slightly, mostly to keep herself balanced on the ice, but also because of the excitement.

That’s the thing of having a well-known friend, she always knew where to go and where to be, receiving invitations for one of the biggest club openings, and me always being her plus one.

‘’One more round on the ice, and we have a deal.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Melanie groaned, holding my hand tightly. ‘’Fine, but just one!’’

🏎️

‘’What’s up chat! I’m back! I know, three times in a row, pretty mint huh?’’ I positioned myself in the chair, the headphones on my head, a snack on the side, next to my bottle of water. I scan through the chat, trying my best to read some of the comments, ignoring most of them.

The season ended, not the best way possible, but it could have been worse. The upgrades we brought the second half of the season made a big improvement to the car, and I’m quite glad about that. We’re going into the direction I wanted, which is up, and times like these are the moments I’m grateful for the patience I’ve had with McLaren.

‘’It’s gonna be a shorter stream though, chat, cuz I have somewhere to be after this.’’ I take a bite from the biscuits I held on the desk, immediately taking a sip of water after it.

‘Do you have a date?’

‘Where are you going after this?’

‘What are you eating?’

I quickly scan through the reactions, not really answering any of them. I loved to stream. I wasn’t able to do it a lot because of the busy season we had. Because of the busy schedule I had, but right now it was a little more toned down, meaning I had found a few free hours I could sit and talk to the camera on Twitch.

‘’Thanks for all the gifted subs, everyone! Holy shit, I can’t even keep up with them.’’ I laughed, trying my best to thank every single person that popped up on my screen. I never could get used to the amount of support I was getting from the fans. People chanting my name, the thousands of bracelets people would make for me, taking the time and effort to create something for me, it was surreal.

As the chat buzzed with questions and comments, I couldn’t help but smile at the energy radiating through the screen. The support from my fans was overwhelming in the best possible way. I glanced at the clock, realising time was ticking away faster than I anticipated.

‘’Alright, let’s jump into a quick Q&A, chat!’’ I announced, grabbing a handful of questions popping up in the chat. ‘’First up, where am I headed after this? Well, I’ve got a charity event lined up. Gotta give back when I can, right?’’

The chat exploded with emojis and words of encouragement. I chuckled at the flood of enthusiasm, feeling grateful for the platform that allowed me to connect with such an incredible community.

‘’Next question,’’ I continued, scrolling through the comments. ‘’What am I eating? Just some biscuits, nothing fancy.’’ I reach for the packaging of the biscuits, showing them to the camera. ‘’Not sponsored!’’ I joked afterwards.

Time flew by faster than expected, and as the charity event drew nearer, I reluctantly announced the stream’s conclusion. The chat flooded with messages expressing gratitude and excitement for the next stream.

‘’Thanks everyone, it’s been fun! You’re the best, love ya. I’ll catch you in the next one.’’ I said, creating a heart with my hands before I ended the stream.

I quickly gathered my things, leaving the streaming setup behind as I rushed to the charity event.

⛸️

It’s been a while since I went out to a club, especially one where a basic pair of jeans and a nice top weren’t ‘good enough’. The club we were headed to wasn’t your ordinary ‘I’m bored with my friends so let’s go out’ kind of club, not even close. It was a higher-end, new, influencer filled kind of club, one where normal people like me wouldn’t usually get access to. At least, if you didn’t have a model as a friend.

Melanie had been modeling ever since we finished secondary school, she got scouted by many modeling agencies across Europe, but she always chose the one near London, near me. She was like an older sister to me and when times were rough, she’d be there and vice versa.  

‘’You know? I’m quite jealous of you, actually.’’ Melanie got me confused by that comment, she, jealous of me, what for?

‘’Oh?’’ I furrowed my eyebrows slightly but remained focused on applying my mascara.

‘’Your natural beauty, your eyebrows, your lashes, and oh my god your lips.’’ She said, sipping her wine as she applied some nude lip-gloss on her plump lips. I knew where she was going with it all. I never had surgery, not once in my life. I never wanted to, because maybe I was a little proud of my so called ‘natural beauty’. I barely wore make up, and whenever I did, it was a simple clear brow gel and a lip balm. My lashes were dark, black, long and they had volume without me having to do anything about it aside from curling them. My eyebrows weren’t black, but a nice dark colour of brown that matched my hair. My lips, never done anything about them, no fillers, nothing. I’m not saying anything is wrong with having fillers, I think it’s beautiful on Melanie, really natural as well, it just wasn’t something I’d see myself doing.

‘’Your lips are so.. urgh, plump, I wish I had that.’’ She says as she finished her make up and moved on to pick out an outfit from her never-ending closet. ‘’What do you think, this Versace dress? Oh, or this Elisa one?’’ She says, holding out two black sparkly dresses.

‘’Left,’’ I start the beginning of my next sentence. ‘’You have gorgeous lips.’’ I say, full honesty. ‘’Yeah, but they’re fake.’’ Melanie says and simply grabs the Elisa dress and starts putting it on, making sure every one of her curves and pros of her body were nicely hugged with the expensive fabric.

‘’Mel…’’ I sighed, closing the tube of mascara, and placing it back in her vanity as I almost always used her make up. ‘’I know, I’m just kidding, I’m just saying, maybe you should start to model too, it’s gonna give me competition, but if it’s you, I can handle it.’’ She teases with a smirk, making me roll my eyes.

‘’Come on, Fay, let’s go.’’

...

taglist

@smoooothoperator @itsjustkhaos @tpwk-cherie @skynel09 @peqch-pie @aphroditeisamilf

a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist, comment ❤️ down below

[sailorblossoms-snowbaz]

On Baz and unconditional love

Baz has a better understanding of love because, unlike Simon, he grew up being loved. But you can see something in Baz's responses to Simon's reaction every time the kidnapping incident is brought up: Baz doesn’t know what to do when he receives unconditional, unapologetic love. One that, when dealing with arguably the most traumatic moment of Baz’s life, doesn’t avoid vulnerability, doesn’t chastise him for “letting it happen” because “he’s a Pitch, he should be stronger than that” or awkwardly offers therapy but lets it all go like it never happened when Baz doesn’t take the offer on the first try.   

Baz has experience feeling unconditional love, but I don’t think he has much experience receiving it, perhaps to the point he doesn’t even expect it... Which doesn’t mean his family doesn’t genuinely love him, but he doesn’t perceive their love like it comes with no “buts” (and the adults are pretty bad at expressing it). All of them had made him feel small, shamed, and otherized in one way or another, like there wouldn’t be a place for him if he were to be himself and not conform to their wishes and expectations. It says so much that he wonders whether his dead mom, who he only remembers as loving him, would want him dead if she knew who he was. While Daphne seems to generally make his life easier, she’s not without fault (says much that Baz doesn’t know whether she means “the gay thing” or the “vampire thing” when speaking about being cured iirc, and his surprise when she wants to invite his “friend” Simon) and seems like a weaker figure. (Baz’s nuanced understanding of said adults screams of “child forced to grow up and mature too fast.”) 

When Simon says things like “I’d found you sooner, sparring you pain,” and “I’d slaughter anyone who hurts you” Baz doesn’t know how to react. He can’t believe it, and he tries to deny/downplay it with “nah you hated me then, what are you talking about.” Even after he has seen Simon go nuclear and kill because he was being sexually harassed, after having had this conversation with Simon in his house and already hearing Simon saying he would’ve saved him then, and after already hearing Simon says he loves him: Baz still “jokes” that Simon would’ve “just sent them a thank-you card, actually.” This upsets Simon, and with good reason: it’s fucked up to assume anyone would make light of someone they love getting hurt, and Simon is one to take this kind of thing very seriously... but this is pretty in line with the fucked up kind of “tough love” Baz is used to receiving from Fiona. She did slaughter his captors, but she also implies he should be embarrassed for being captured like that in the first place. She’s very unserious in a pretty messed up way with the whole “back seat” business. He gets no real reassurance from her. Baz wants to be loved gently, but “rough and unserious” in a delicate situation involving his well-being is what he got from her. Simon wants to do what Fiona did (slaughtering Baz’s captors) but unlike her, his first reaction (after he tellingly stops eating) is “why wasn’t I informed? I would have been faster and more efficient.” With this, Simon is criticizing the people who were in charge of protecting Baz. He’s saying he would have done a much better job of protecting him.  

When Simon tells Baz “there’s nothing about you I don’t want” it’s massive, and we don’t get Baz's reaction at all. The scene cuts there, with Simon running off. I don’t think Baz knew what to do with himself then, with that information. Until that point, the adults in his life have loved him despite certain parts of himself, pretending those parts don’t exist. So when he hears that Simon knows and loves every single part of him, he’s... blank. We don’t know how he feels then, and I don’t think he himself knows either. 

Simon expressing love

When Simon first tells Baz he loves him, he also tells him that murder is basically a love language for him (“I have killed so many things for you”). It sounds unhinged as hell, but makes perfect sense when you see his examples. Simon grew up unloved, and through the role that shaped half of his life, he learns to express love by being a protector (killing). With Baz, who has special dietary needs, he expresses love by also being a provider (also killing). As he works on himself and their relationship, as he becomes better at identifying and managing his feelings, he tells us that he can’t stand to see Baz unhappy, and that he wants to be the person who takes care of him and makes him happy. He specifically finds it thrilling to be the person who can do that for him. 

However, with everything Simon has done in his hero days, with all his power and training etc, etc, etc... when the love of his life needed to be saved, Simon “was useless” because he didn’t know. He looked for Baz everywhere he could, but he never got a real chance of finding him because no one knew shit.  This is the kind of thing that Simon avoids thinking about because it would fuck him up too much. His “I would have saved you” stands out to me, because the way he says it conveys the one way he knows to express love: murder (ha). (Considering Simon isn’t good with words, with voicing his feelings and what’s on his mind, he only starts communicating and voicing things after Baz lets him know he needs to hear it, after Baz lets him know the wordless ways he’s been conveying his love are not reaching Baz, they are getting lost in translation, etc)

It’s there in CO, even before Simon realizes the full extent of his feelings for Baz, in the way he stops eating (food is connected to love in the series) in his frustration with not being informed, in the way Penny can tell with a glance that Simon must be fantasizing with killing numpties. In awtwb, as Simon begins to work through his issues, we see how he can’t stop putting his hands on Baz. As Simon feels secure in their relationship, he’s a very touchy person (not being able to touch Baz is linked to torture and touching him to sustenance in SFC). And not all his touch is sexual. There are a lot of affectionate, playful cheek kisses, for instance... I bring this up because I noticed that in awtwb, when they talk about the numpties again, Simon incorporates touch. Alongside emphasizing he would’ve slaughtered his captors, he holds and kisses Baz, as if he could soothe and kiss the pain away. In both CO and awtwb, when the numpties incident comes up, Simon expresses love in the way that comes naturally to him, in the only ways he knows how. 

[idontplaytrack]

Amber x reader in which reader tops her for the first time, which Amber doesn’t know how to take it because she is a giver not a taker (she likes it) and then she returns the favor

What favour?

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: MDNI, smut— oral, fingering(Amber receiving), pet names(both receiving), toy use(reader receiving)

Amber does not know how to take it to save her life.

With your eyes slowly peeling open, you squint when the sunlight hit and tried to turn away but realised you couldn’t. Amber had her arms tightly wrapped around you. You tried to free yourself but she just kept holding on— you didn’t put up too much of a fight and just went back to sleep for a while more. You woke up again to her letting go of you, you turned around and came face to face with her. “Hi, baby.” She smiles sleepily— it was adorable.

You smiled back, “Good morning.”

She leans closer to kiss you which you happily accepted and returned the gesture similarly. But Amber doesn’t just stop there. She keeps kissing you, over and over until it just wasn’t enough anymore. You’d officially become too bothered to sleep or do anything else. You feel her hand ghosting your chest and you stopped her, “Amber?”

“Yeah?” She asks, hand balled up slightly since you stopped her.

“How would you feel about me…topping, you?”

“Um.” Amber exhales, “You’ve never done that before, and I—”

“That’s not important, I’ll figure it out. Do you want that?”

Amber ponders over your question as her cheeks grew red and warm. Her eyes gave you an answer clear as day that she was eager. “Yeah.” She nodded decisively.

“Yeah?”

She nodded, licking her lips before you captured them into your own, starting off with soft fleeting kisses until you could feel her wanting more. Or hear her— whichever came first. You’d cupped her cheek but that hand soon moves up the side of her head and was combed through her hair. Both of you were currently on your sides, but you were almost on top of her. As good as her kisses felt against your lips, you could feel her body literally resisting. Her body language— she seemed to be unable to relax and let you take control.

She always was the top and not for the reason people’d think. Amber, she always prioritises others over herself, always giving and giving. Not once has she stopped to let people help her. Well, once, yes— when the school raised funds for Bobby’s surgery, but you couldn’t remember any other instances. At all.

“Amber.” You broke away from the kiss, “I got this, okay? You just…lay there and look pretty for me.”

But shit, the girl was still fucking tense. It wasn’t that she hated it, Amber made that clear. She was just…a giver. She hates receiving. Anything. You’d make breakfast and she’ll fight to make lunch, you buy her a cup of coffee and she’ll get you one right back, even compliments. She doesn’t take them well, she blushes, but says she’s not what you think she is. Which was a load of bullshit because she was the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid your eyes on.

But all of those pale in comparison to how difficult things can get in the bedroom. She knew how to make you feel good, she had that down to a science. She loves seeing how good she makes you feel, hearing it, all of it. But when you give her just a tad bit of attention in reciprocation, the girl just…freaks out like she’s a monster unworthy of love and attention. It’s gotten better but still, you were determined for her to let it go and relax for once.

You try to deepen the kiss and slip your tongue in, she allows it instantly and so you explored each inch of her mouth eagerly while you feel her hand roaming your back and trying to pull your t-shirt over your head.

“Amber, hands off.” You said softly, “Let me do everything right now, don’t worry about anything.”

“I’m not worried, I just—”

Smack. Right on her ass, immediately and she shut up, allowing you to continue kissing her. Her fingers hooked at the hem of her pyjama pants and underwear, smoothly sliding them off. She whimpers breathily into the kiss, you slide your hand down her front, ghosting her clit. The girl tenses beneath you. “You’re okay.” You whispered, “I got you, baby.”

She whines meekly, “Fuck…I need to kiss you, babe.” You let her, obviously. You could never say no to this face. You slide two fingers down from her clit, teasing her entrance. You notice her breathing hitch, and how she kisses you more eagerly— the kisses long, deep and sloppy. You take this as your cue to plunge a finger into her, and she gives you a noise in return. So soft, but it made your heart race. Oh how you wanted to keep hearing her make the noises for you, but you didn’t want to push her and tell her to make noise for you— not that soon, at least. You believe that she’d do it without you asking soon enough.

Your middle finger was deep inside her, curling up to hit her in the sensitive spot over and over, making it harder and harder for her to think. To worry. Because all that came out of her mouth from that point on was anything but coherent. You’ve done it, her mind was emptied and filled with nothing but pleasure. “Oh, shit.” She mumbles, whining into your mouth. “You like that, baby?” You ask, your lips starting to travel lower, down to her jaw and neck. She squirms because your breath was tickling her skin.

Amber nods, mumbling something you couldn’t make out. She whimpers, driving you insane. “Shit.” She panted, “y/n…”

“Yes, baby?” You ask, reconnecting your lips with a specific spot on her neck to draw out yet another noise.

She moans, right by your ear and holy shit, you slipped a second finger inside making her go, “Fuck! Sorry…”

“Babe, don’t be.” You chuckle, nuzzled against her neck before your tongue flicks over the sore spot you’d worked over. “You’re making such pretty noises for me, Ams. Keep going, I love hearing you. I want to hear you.” You purred, fingers gradually picking up their pace as you feel her tightness around them grow.

You went until she started to tremble beneath you and was clutching onto you like her life depended on it. Abruptly, your fingers leave her and you get up, now sitting in between her legs, face to face with that juncture between her thighs which was making you drool like an animal. You gulped, hand massaging her inner thigh. They started to close in together but you pushed it back down, your gaze traveled upward to see that she was looking anywhere and everywhere, hands seemingly desperate for something in them but having nothing in them right now.

“Go ahead, baby…do whatever you want.” You encouraged, moving your head closer to her cunt. Your eyes stayed focused on her, watching her as she used one hand to knead her breast and the other one combed through your hair.

“Mm-fuck—” She whines, “Fuck, babe…fuck, that feels so good.”

You were going feral. Her being under your control was so rare, and this was the furthest she’s ever let you go. She’s always resisted, saying she wouldn’t know what to do, then…do you instead.

“Keep going, that’s it, baby…make those cute little noises for me~” Your breath fans her sensitive heat, making her cry out and buck her hips up towards your face. You instinctively held onto her inner thigh tighter to keep her in place, just like her hand was doing in your hair.

Her soft whines and breathy whimpers were really making you more bothered than ever, yearning for her touch. But yet, you couldn’t stop. Drunk on her taste, you needed to have her. Until she couldn’t take it anymore and unraveled. So far, so good. They were falling from her lips in a never ending string, spurring you on— licking, kissing and sucking her growingly sensitive clit diligently just so you could hear her being a mess.

“Babe…” She exhales shakily, “More.”

“You don’t have to ask twice…” You grin, your tongue circling her entrance in a tease then pushing its way into her.

“God…” She groans, voice lower than ever, making you feel nuts. You lapped her up like she was your last meal ever, now similarly desperate for more. More noises from her, more of her wetness, more of her. “Shit, shit, shit.” She mutters, whining when she feels your fingers return into the mix. This oh-so-sinful gesture was absolutely heavenly. Feeling her constantly soaking your mouth and tightening more and more around your fingers. Fuck.

“Fuck!” She exclaimed, “Oh, my god—” She started to tremble again, fingernails sinking into your scalp just slightly.

“I’m so close, babe…” Her voice was barely above a whisper, a shrill whimper to end it off, “Ah— ah— yes, yes, right there, baby.”

God, she was so hot. So very…oh god.

“I need to come…babe, please.” She begged, in actual tears.

“Baby, just do it, you don’t have to ask, Amber.” You coaxed, hand massaging her thigh once again to soothe her, “Come for me, you want it, you can do it.”

You did not ask her to hold it, but hearing her plead was a cherry on top of the cake. It made you even wetter. Even more ready for her to have her way with you after you were done with her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Th— oh, shit!” She panted, unraveling once you gave her the okay, her hand clawing and your back as she collected herself, started to come down from her high. You slowed down your ministrations as she does, calming down and letting go of her grip on you.

“So pretty…” You kissed her lips again, brushing the stray hairs out of her eyes, “You taste so sweet, princess, I just can’t get enough of you.”

You see her swallowing thickly, breath hitching, she nearly cries again and licked her lips. “You did so good for me, baby.” You gave her another kiss, “So good.”

Amber whimpers needily, grabbing your face to kiss you. “Can I? Return the favour?” She asks when she broke away briefly. “What favour? That’s no favour, baby. I just wanted you to feel— good— fuck, you know what? Yes. Yes.” You nodded impatiently, “I need you so bad, baby.”

“What do you want, my love? Tell me.” Her usual demeanour was back just like that. The fluttering in your chest was crazy as you watched her in anticipation, your mind was emptying itself so quickly and getting overtaken by desire.

“How much can you take?” She chuckles, burying her face in your cleavage and leaving you a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses. You whimper, as if on reflex, feeling the overpowering ache in between your thighs. Gnawing onto your lower lip, you couldn’t hold back any longer. This slightest bit of teasing was having you soak her sheets and all achy.

“I don’t care— just fuck me.” You spat out.

————

Once she’d left the bed, you knew exactly what she had thought of. You knew that you’d be a goner, you didn’t have to think anymore and just…take it. Amber returns wearing that god forsaken harness holding two other toys in hand. “Fuck!” You squinted at her, exclaiming in a pant. She just grins, excited to have her way with you.

“Take your pick, y/n. I want you to choose.” She was so calm, it irked you because you were already all worked up. “Strap first.” You huffed, opening your legs for her as she got closer.

She laughs, “So ready for me, honey?”

You could no longer keep the conversation going. You were desperate for her to fuck you and she knew it, she was trying to hold it off for as long as you could take. Which, to be fair wasn’t that long now. And clearly, she knows. Because she was already teasing you with the tip then pushing it in with no issues. You moaned lowly, glad to finally start having some relief. You were fully exposed to her by now— completely nude. She could see your clit, swollen, neglected. She stays stagnant, fingertips rubbing your clit to give it what it was craving.

“Jesus. Oh, goddamn.” You let out a shaky, whiny breath, “Fuck me.”

“I will.” She says, “Just giving your poor little clit what it needs, lovey.”

Fuck you, that pet name.

“Keep going, please…” You beg, “Fuck me, babe. Fuck me…” You felt, full. But that wasn’t enough, you wanted her to go hard and fast. You needed that release— nothing was feeling better than that to you. You were so bloody worked up.

She finally gives in, bucking her hips consistently to enter and pull away just enough. Just enough to push you closer and closer. As established, Amber’s done this enough to know exactly what to do and how to do it. So what she was doing now? Was perfect. It’s just that your mouth couldn’t shut up, spewing all sorts of noises as a result of her actions. Amber was proud of herself…doing so little to make you feel this way.

You started to squirm and she just naturally held you down while pounding into you faster and faster, harder and harder, making you cry out with each time. Her free hand squeezed your tits and pinched your nipples as she continues to impale you. You watched her— that smile on her face, how her breasts moved in sync with her action, you listened to how she was talking to you and praising you.

You were mumbling nothing in particular, but she knew it felt good for you, that’s how you were when you were close. “Take it, baby. You’re taking me so well, y/n.” She giggles.

“Fuck, keep going— keep going~”

“You’re so beautiful.” She remarked, her tone sweet, her actions causing you to make the most obscene of noises. The sharp contrast was making you feel insanely shy.

To top it all off, she’s also started to attack your sensitive spots, starting from your neck and working her way down. The combination had that coil in your core winding up so rapidly, it barely gave you the time to process it. “Gonna come— I’m gonna come—” You whimpered, airily, back arching off the mattress allowing her to poke you even deeper. Her lips have been detached, her hands: one holding onto your hip, the other slapping your tit then fondled with your ass. So much stimulation, and so much pleasure.

“Do it, honey. Soak that thing, babe, come for me…we both know you want to.”

On her cue, you came intensely, fighting back the tears so hard. But you so miserably failed, crumbling once she held you in her arms, still trembling. “That’s my girl.” She presses a kiss to your lips, you lazily reciprocated, eyes starting to droop shut. “Good girl.”

After she takes a painfully long time to remove the harness (no she didn’t). You were just impatient. You instinctively snuggle against her chest, content and trying to calm down. “Fuck, I love you…”

“I love you too, sweet girl.” She plants a kiss on your forehead, “Also, I’m gonna let you do that more from now on.”

“Happy to.” You gave her a sleepy smile, which she mirrors and you barely see, wanting to hug her more.

“You just wanna sleep?”

You hummed, nodding your head in confirmation. “Sleepy.” You mumbled, “Breakfast later.”

“M’kay.” She inevitably chuckles, rubbing your bare back comfortingly, “Rest now, I’ll wake you up when the food’s done.”

“‘kay.” You muttered, finally closing your eyes.

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

[ask-serendipity-sky]

Part 2- 10 Jikook Moments That Make Me Say "There is no way Jikook is not real"

Part 2. Because let me tell you all something...from the looks of it, Jikook is real.

And going through my own brain archives and content, we have enough moments to give us Part 3, 4, 5... and we have moments to make a Top10 of basically everything.

And just an fyi, for a moment to persuade me, it can be sexual tension, taking care of each other, physical contact, even awkwardness, etc, but it has to have that added intimacy. You know, the unspoken words between couples. And Jikook is full of that not so secret but always present intimacy.

So let's begin this one...

(In no particular order)

10. Bam <3 Jimin

Ok, let's be honest here... Uncle Jimin? Lol more like Dad(dy) Jimin! But no joke, that dog knows Jimin really well and loves Jimin. Trust me...I grew up having more than 10 dogs at all times so I know a thing or two lol

It's the eye contact and the little ears that give it away.

Bam's behavior shows how comfortable he is with Jimin. He is even licking Jimin's toes in some scenes. Sooo cuteeeee!!!

The poor dog was even confused when he had to decide who to follow, Jk or Jimin. Is that because Jimin is his owner too? ���� Even the other members asked Jimin questions on Bam.

Like when Jin asks Jimin if Bam will run after him. And Jimin is like say what? Totally caught off guard lol

I'm not going to lie. I love Bam and Jimin and Jungkook and the interactions are beautiful to watch. So if Bam tells us that Jikook is real, then Jikook is real. Dogs don't lie!

Ah but for reals, I love him so much! You know what? He needs his own post! Bam appreciation post coming soon.

9. "I was with Jungkook"

I was with Jungkook. In their defense, they are always together. But this one hit differently, at least to me.

It was Jungkook's birthday and it was them two. Thats when they got the Billboard announcement that they had placed no.1 and they fell asleep caressing their phones and crying. So like they were in the same bed and all. Cool, nothing suspicious yet.

But it was Jk's birthday. And if Jk is dating someone, shouldn't he had been with them celebrating? Shouldn't be had been in someone's else's bed caressing the phone because Jk's group got no.1 on billboard (cough, Jimin's live when he got no.1 on billboard cough)? If Jimin was dating someone else shouldn't he had been with that person instead?

Also, Jk's smile when Jimin was finally able to tell everyone he was with Jk was huge. And Jimin had tried a few days before in that other live but the story got all jumbled and Jungkook was not so happy about it.

So Jimin confessed. He was with Jungkook. And all was well once again in the Park-Jeon household.

8. If eyes were in the shape of 💕...

This moment is so freakin real to me. First of all, I love Jikook during Dynamite era and this live was fun.

It's really like Jikook was in their honeymoon phase again...how many honeymoon phases do these guys have? Lol

And then we get this tiny 1 second moment of Jk blinking with heart eyes at Jimin. Just because Jimin said something slightly amusing. Omg.

Cancel everything because this is love💘!!!!

And there is also that suspicious Jimin moment. You know those annoying comments we hate "Finger hearts if Jikook is real..."

Well, Jimin at around 11:20ish, reads a comment that says "Stay healthy" then looks around nervously and does this...

Then takes a quick glance around again. Just to make sure. They didn't see. But we did.

Go watch it!

7. Remember our first kiss? Would you like to fall in love?

Ahhhhhhh. Does this even need explanation? They look happy. And Jimin's little smug face in the first clip is everything. It is cute!

This is romantic. It is intimate. And somehow its captured on camera.

6. Jk lifting Jimin

No, this lift is not like the others. Its not just goofing around and being silly.

First of all because k-army says that Jk says "Let me lift you once." (Does anyone have a source for this?? I couldn't find it anymore 😐)

And then Jk looks at the mirrors behind them to see how they look when he is lifting Jimin. That's insanely hot. I don't think I'm imagining this... I mean...

Please answer the following question:

Do bros want to see what they look like in a suggestive position? No!

Then why did Jungkook have to look?

5. Jk 🤟 Jimin

Jk does this in front of a loooooot of people. And you can see his gorgeous eyes expecting a reaction from Jimin. It isn't until Jimin smiles that he smiles too. It's romantic and very him. A grand gesture that leaves Jimin speechless.

I don't know about you all but normal friends don't go around declaring their love just for the fun of it. ROMANTIC love, everyone. You don't stand there thinking how to surprise your non-boyfriend with a romantic gesture. But you do do that for a real boyfriend/girlfriend. In front of hundreds of people...sometimes thousands, and sometimes millions.

4. On Screen Thirsting

Blink and you miss it. Not only in this live but in plenty other material. They want each other and get lost in their own world letting the other know they want them.

What else is there to explain?

3. Their body language...speaks to them lol ah and us.

Welp. This one is a huge one for me. These are things that your body does automatically like breathing and your heart beating. Your subconscious tells your body what is the safest, most comfortable and loving space and your body tunes into that. And yes, all the members are close and all have a high degree of skinship but with Jikook there is that extra bit. They don't call Jk satellite Jeon for nothing.

The crazy thing is that this has been happening since they were fetus Jikook! And here we are 10 years later and Jk is still satellite-ing around in Run episodes.

2. Jk spilling the tea on how he is the best boyfriend.

Ahhhhhhhhhhh. This.

It was just sooo sweet. Insanely sweet.

As you all know, Jk tends to live in his own world and marches to the beat of his drum. He doesn't often post things for others or congratulate his members on social media (except for one...). So on this day, which should have its own post because virtual White Day date while Jimin is overseas...I mean....

Anyway, so on this day, Jk comes back for a little p.s. to his 3 part live and he tells us to look forward to 12 o' clock (a few minutes later) because something amazing is coming. He never does that for anyone else. He never posts spoilers for anyone else. So it was just sweet and very boyfriend of him.

And people can hate and say that Jikook is not even close...but then why would Jk do that? And why would he give us spoilers if Jk is not the type to care about that?

I'll tell you why...because he loves his Jimin and he was feeling proud and supportive.

And the Letter spoiler....ahhhhhhhh. You all see his little smile during it?

🕯Let's manifest a Letter live performance🕯

I wish they could talk about Letter. Well, no. I wish they could sing Letter...

Don’t worry

By your side just stay yeah

Because we don’t know what days await us,

Though it’s scary, though we’re afraid

Never forget that we’re always together

This sounds an awful lot like ms stuff to me 😔

1. Boys With Luv

Oh god.

When this concert aired, it was like 4 am my time. And I had only 1 eye open because I really wanted to sleep. Then Boy With Luv started and my eyes were like not today, fam. Because wild things happen with Jikook during this song so my brain knew better. So my eyes opened up real fast.

And then Jk is stared looking suspicious. Side eyeing Jimin.

Jk sings the last line and you think we made it without any Jikookery. FALSE!

Jk looks around and you can tell he is thinking something...Jimin gets closer and Jk does this thing were it looks like he is expecting something? I dont know.

A kiss?

A declaration of love?

A marriage proposal?!!?

This is what it looks like to me, ok??? Let me be.

And Jimin looks at him and they just are. And for a second it seems like something will happen. Because Jk is unpredictable. And the moment passes. And Jimin looks nervous as hell.

I screamed during this. And my partner was like what happened?!? And I was like NOTHING, HAPPENED! Lol and nothing happened so why is this moment so engraved in my brain?

I guess its because of the unspoken words during it. The thoughts that were thunk! The secret info exchanged while they were looking at each other.

The intimacy, everyone. Even though they were surrounded by the members and millions of eyes were watching.

Ahhh but isn't this Jikook always???

Anyways...toodle-oo!

[mazeinthemiroh]

minty fever.

Genre: One-shot; Fluff and crack - the power duo 💪

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: mentions of being drunk, cursing, a very not so violent pillow fight at the end 😱

Requested?: Yes

Synopsis: It wasn't that often that you got to spend time with your boyfriend. But what happened even less was a heated argument with his friends - and who knew it would all be about mint chocolate ice cream?

A/N: This is super cute, if I do say so myself. Lazy days with San is literally all you need to have a good life tbh. HOWEVER I wanted to ask you guys - do you like mint chocolate ice cream? or are you on Hongjoong's and Seonghwa's side? Let me know because I am so neutral about this topic. I don't HATE it but it's definitely not the first ice cream I'd reach for. Anyways, I know it's an important debate for people, especially Ateez! We've all seen them bicker about this. We love our dramatic kings <3

"I could stay like this forever."

San rolled his head in an angle that captured you in his vision perfectly. There was a sparkle in his eyes, the one he always had when he looked at you. The sparkle of love. It sounded so cliche in your head but it was the only way to describe it. A fond smile stretched across his lips, showing off the beautiful dimple etched in the softness of his cheek.

"If only we had more time together," you mumbled, wandering over to the couch where he sat, his legs splayed out in a leisurely manner.

It was true. It was so hard finding time to do anything with your boyfriend. He's a celebrity, for crying out loud. You knew it would be difficult. He had a tight schedule, and between working late hours in the evening and waking up at unholy hours of the morning, it was hard to find time to see each other as often as you did. But San did find the time. You had no idea how he did, and you were more perplexed as to how he kept his enthusiasm. If you were on his schedule, you figured you wouldn't last a month.

But here San was, waltzing his way through life, one hour at a time. It was busy, sure. But he liked it that way. And in between the craziness of his career, he found you, a relaxing source of comfort and a person he could rely on with anything. What was there to be stressed about? His life seemed pretty damn perfect, from the way he was looking at it.

You curled up into his body, laying your head against his chest as his hand naturally placed itself on your waist. His smile only grew.

"I like the way things are," San commented in a low, content voice. "I know I'm busy and you're busy, but we make things work so well."

A firm kiss was placed on your forehead. You could feel the bristles of hair on his chin tickle your skin slightly; he hadn't shaved in a couple of days, which was rare. You embraced the tickle, the odd sensation feeling very comfortable.

"You're right, San." That's all you felt you could say as you sank deeper into his arms. You felt as if you could fall asleep there and then. Lazy days made you feel, well, lazy. San matched your energy too.

"I'm always right," he sighed as he closed his eyes, chuckling to himself, "like I was right about getting all those mint chocolate ice creams. I knew they would come in handy one day."

A while ago, when you were both drunk off your heads, you and your boyfriends decide to make a spontaneous trip to the corner shop right down the street. Bear in mind it's 1:16 am and you're both pissed. Supposedly, his genius idea to restock on mint chocolate ice cream came from this drunken night/morning, although neither of you could properly remember. It was all a bit of a daze, a fizzy memory that hadn't been forgotten but hadn't been solidified either. It was a precious memory, either way.

And so, the freezer had been filled with all these tubs of the same ice cream all this time. The other members were not impressed at all; it's not a surprise that taking up the dorms' freezer space would make some people mad. Today, on your lazy day, you both felt it was appropriate to consume these tubs of ice cream, to free the space and fill your stomachs with much joy.

"There's still a lot of tubs left," you giggled as you licked your lips, trying to get off any minty taste that would remain in the corners of your mouth.

"I don't think I can eat anymore, to be totally honest," San chuckled and groaned in the same breath, a hand flying to his stomach as he held it in slight discomfort. You looked at him with an eyebrow quirked up, knowing that in about 5 minutes he'd be back at it again, shoving the creamy mint ice cream down his throat once more.

"We're home~"

Hongjoong's sing-song voice sounded from behind the both of you, though there wasn't much of a reaction. You both hummed at the sound of his both but didn't bother turning your heads; it was too much effort.

"Don't get up," Hongjoong tutted as he saw you both on the couch, not moving. He heaved the heavy grocery bags on the kitchen counter.

"You guys okay?" Seonghwa's sweet tone came from behind you too as he made his way over to the couch.

"Yeah," San drawled out his words with a grin and closed his eyes, you following suit.

Seonghwa chuckled before heading to the kitchen where Hongjoong was. He couldn't possibly let him sort out the shopping himself. First of all, he didn't know where everything went. There was a designated place for all types of goods and Hongjoong was yet to learn that.

"No, the cereal goes in this cupboard," Seonghwa said gently, pointing to a higher cupboard while Hongjoong sighed.

"Do you want to sort this all out or are you going to get on my ass?" Hongjoong quirked a challenging eyebrow up at his friend.

Seonghwa just laughed at his feistiness, finding it endearing.

"No, you're doing great sweetie."

"Don't patronise me," Hongjoong growled in response.

"It's because you're small~"

"Shut up, San!"

You giggled at San, his eyes opening when hearing your approval of his joke. He liked adding a bit of chaos to the mix, especially with Seonghwa and Hongjoong's antics.

"They're like an old married couple," you whispered to San as he nodded in agreement, a low chuckle escaping his lips.

"I don't know what you two are laughing at," Hongjoong's voice was threatening, and while San thought of the consequences, you went completely unaffected by the captain's empty aggressions. You laughed even more when you saw the sudden alertness on your boyfriend's face.

Luckily, instead of threats, a quietness fell around the room, and only the quiet shuffling of Seonghwa and Hongjoong could be heard in the kitchen as they sorted out the groceries. You sighed and snuggled back down further into your sweet boyfriend's arms. All was well.

Until two synonymous gasps could be heard in the kitchen.

"What the hell is this??"

You and San lifted your heads, slowly, unsurely looking into each other's eyes. Both of you mirrored the same confused expression of the other as you each racked your brains, trying to figure out what the problem would be this time.

The pair in the kitchen stormed in, stomping both their feet on the carpeted floor. You both turned to face them to see what the fuss was about.

They held out in their hands two tubs of mint chocolate ice cream each.

"Why is there so much of this in the freezer? Are you trying to kill us?" Hongjoong placed the two tubs down on the side table with a twist of disgust on his face.

"There's no room in the freezer," Seonghwa sounded exasperated.

You held to hold back an eruption of laughter that bubbled inside of you.

"You guys are so dramatic."

"DRAMATIC??"

Your cheeky smile dropped once you realised the immense importance the mint chocolate ice cream seemed to hold. You scoffed and looked over to your boyfriend who held the same intense expression.

"Oh no, Y/N. This is a very important topic. It has been debated throughout generations on whether or not mint ice cream is good or bad!"

Well, if there was anyone you could count on for being as dramatic as the rest, it was San. He rose from his seat and took one of the tubs Hongjoong settled down on the side. He grasped the tub in his hands like it was forbidden treasure, gently and carefully as if not to break it.

"Legend has it that this ice cream is actually sacred, made by the gods themselves-"

"No that's a big-ass lie," Hongjoong retorted, "unless the gods sent this to earth as a form of punishment."

"You take that back!" Mingi emerged from literally nowhere, shocking you all. "Mint ice cream is delicious, you both just wanna be quirky and different."

"Yeah!" San wrapped an arm around his new supporter. You didn't realise ice cream was that deep for them.

That's when the bickering started. Your stare darted between the four of them as you watched them argue over the 'serious' controversies of food. To think these were full-grown adults.

You grabbed a pillow and calculated your next move, moving in between all of them and swiping around to hit every single one of them with the pillow in your hands.

"You wanna fight?" Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, leaning over to grab a pillow from the sofa. "Fine, let's fight!"

You wouldn't have placed Seonghwa, out of all of them, to start a fight. And you're right; he's not a violent guy. But if there was any fight Seonghwa wouldn't hesitate to be involved in, it was a pillow fight.

It felt like war, and you didn't know which side you were on. Hongjoong and Seonghwa were on one side of the room, pelting pillows at the mint ice cream lovers, San and Mingi, while you stood in the middle, quite neutral in your stance despite being the instigator of the chaos.

You observed the chaos you created and joined in. This whole day had been perfectly fun and lazy with your boyfriend, but this extreme activity topped it off. Like a cherry on top of ice cream, if you will. Chuckling loudly, you threw pillows left and right; you didn't care so long as they hit someone.

San came over to defend you with a big pillow he was using as a shield. You looked up at him and laughed uncontrollably.

You could stay like this forever.

[virtu4lplant]

Ultimate form of intimacy.

Tags : Aki Hayakawa x !fem devil reader, gore, cannibalism ?, mentions of sex, aki might be ooc.. spoilers !!!might also edit it later, the dialogue is kinda bad sorry… I’ll proofread tomorrow.. kinda tired.

(All pics were found on Pinterest. I do not own them.)

Mostly inspired by my Aki bot on c.ai and many stuff !

Note : This is my first fic ever… and I’m starting it with something quite dark ! If you have any tips or constructive criticism let me know !! I struggle with English grammar so much..

"You know… if I ever had to die before killing the Gun Fiend, I want you to eat me."

You've never forgot his request.

***

You first met Aki when you were captured by the Public Security. You're a fiend and people treated you like an object, even though you were supposed to be inoffensive to them. You were once human, and lost all the memories of your past life. This didn’t make change their minds about you.

You were assigned to live with Aki Hayakawa, a devil hunter. At first, your relationship was tricky.

"You better not do anything fishy or…" He led you to your room for the first time.

Aki is known for his strong hate towards devils, he told you later that he lost his whole family because of the Gun Fiend. That’s why he was so adamant on killing it. He was acting cold and mean with you at first, but in reality, he was just scared and confused. You were as scared as him. Why did he felt so fond and protective of you ? He didn’t even knew himself.

After a few months of living together in his apartment, you grew closer to each other. You didn’t slept in your own bedroom anymore, you always snuggled in his bed. He took care of you : he cooked diner, washed your clothes and made sure you were sleeping well.

"Come here…", you climb into his bed and he wraps his arms around you.

"Comfortable ?", he gently stroked you hair and kissed the top of your head.

"Mhmmm."

"Good."

When he comes home from work, being lethargic and covered in blood, seeing you brings him a certain sense of normalcy.

This wasn’t right. He’s a human and you’re a fiend. None of that is normal.

The first time you’ve experienced blood lust, you’ve bitten Aki on his shoulder. You couldn’t help it. It was just hurting too much.

Surprisingly, he only flinched. He didn’t pushed you away. He didn’t seem scared nor flabbergasted. It was almost like he was expecting it. Well, it was your nature after all.

Since that day, he gave you some of his blood and bits of flesh once or twice a week, "just in case" like he used to say.

At dusk, you two were one the balcony. Aki smoked a cigarette, and you were sitting on his lap, leaning in his shoulder, your eyes closed. That’s when he said it.

"You know…if i ever had to die before killing the Gun Fiend, I want you to eat me."

"Excuse-me ?" You opened your eyes wide.

"You heard me." He takes a drag of his cigarette.

"Aki… I can’t do that.. that’s.. that’s-"

"I know.", he squeezed you.

"Then why ?… "

He sighs, "I’m not going to survive much longer anyway. If I ever had to choose how I die, I’d want to die by your own hand."

"I don’t want that !"

"Shh…"

"…Hey, what if we see it like this : if you ever eat me, that means that we will become one.

I love you, you know that ?"

"…"

He smiled sadly, "You should go to sleep, and stop pouting." He playfully blew smoke on your face.

He’s strange. You’re supposed to be the predator, you should sink your teeth into his throat, sucking him dry. You’re supposed to like the sweet sounds that he would make when you start eating him. And yet, every time he gave himself to you, every time he tilted his head to give you better access, you denied him. You denied him when you were supposed to tear him apart.

Every time you had sex with him, you didn’t even felt the urge to consume him. You felt disgusted. Disgusted of yourself. How can someone like him be attracted to his predator ?

But… isn’t he right ? Consuming your lover isn’t the ultimate form of intimacy ? Isn’t the true way to become one ?

***

Today is hot summer day. Aki promised to take you to see the fireworks after work. He was taking a bit longer.. but you’re sure he’s fine.

The doorbell rang, you had a bad feeling about it. That’s weird, wasn’t he supposed to have his key ? Perhaps he forgot it.

But… inside your heard you kept hearing a voice saying :

"Do not open the door…

Do not open the door.

Do not open the door !

Do not-"

You opened the door.

And you saw him. Was that man really him ? You’re not sure. Maybe it wasn’t Aki anymore. Maybe it wasn’t a man anymore. But it looked like him.

"…Aki ?"

All you could see was the large gun covering half of his face. After a few seconds, you’ve finally understood. Aki became what he hated the most, the Gun Fiend. What a joke.

You felt tears pouring out your eyes.

***

Aki, or the Gun Fiend has been defeated. He was now laying down on the ground, covered in blood.

You were standing before him, glaring at his organs coming out of his abdomen. You were disgusted. Disgusted of yourself for finding the smell appealing. His blood smelled so good. It must taste good too. But wait… you’ve never felt the need.. the want of consuming him before. Maybe it was time. Maybe it was just nature’s way.

"…"

You crouched down closer to him. He was smiling. It was almost disturbing. You were breathing heavily, even salivating. This was bound to happen from the start. The two of you were doomed.

"Aki…"

You got closer to his throat.

"I love you, Aki."

You gently kissed it.

"Let’s become one."

Finally, you sinked your fangs into throat. Maybe he was already dead, you weren’t sure.

You weren’t just eating him. You licked his throat with the most passionate affection. You were crying, giving yourself to him. You kept and kept consuming him. Finally calming down this painful hunger. When you were done with his throat, you went for his heart. He was truly becoming yours. You bit into it.

You looked down at him one last time, making a last prayer. Feeling all of the horrified stares from your neighbours on you. But you didn’t care.

You had to go to see the fireworks, like he promised.

[luckyreds]

A long rant about Winters and Liebgott under the cut:

This is also unedited and written on the way back to work so it probably doesn’t explain my points very well but what can you do-

Winters’ relationship with Liebgott is so intriguing to me because it exposes one major flaw Winters’ seems to have, which is his inability or unwillingness (?) to see the war from someone else’s point of view.

To him, the war so far has been fairly impersonal. He joins the paratroopers because if they’re going to war he wants to fight with the best. But his motivation as to why doesn’t go deeper than that. The war is pretty simple and clean cut. They train, fight in either Europe or the Pacific, win and return home. It makes sense for him, after all until that point in his life he has experienced the world as a heterosexual white male in the 30s and 40s. Safe to say he hasn’t faced any discrimination focused at him ever. And It’s reflected in his worldview, To him, the germans are just that; germans. They are just soldiers fighting a war just like them, nothing deeper than that.

But for Liebgott, he knows what the Nazi’s are doing. It’s very personal to him. In the show, he even wears the star of David next to dog tags. Which if he was captured, would’ve been a death sentence. We know this. Lieb is proud of what he is, A Jew. He probably knew what was going on in Europe before even joining the army. As word of what the Nazi’s were doing travelled quickly in the Jewish community.

His anger towards the Germans is justified and understandable. For me (and I’m sure many others) at least, as someone who has grandparents that are still alive and well who grew up during ww2 and experienced it first hand. And even had conversations with my great-grandparents about how it was/what they experienced.

It’s is the big obstacle in their relationship. Winters views Liebgott as someone quick to anger, one can’t be trusted with prisoners. (Which were SS’ers, so save to say Liebgott hated their guts, and once again for good reason) their interaction in crossroads is the first time we see them at odds. And it is a glimpse of what is coming in why we fight.

Because oooh that episode (alongside the scene in points) is were we see it in full. It is a good episode. However here is where Winters also messed up majorly. After finding the camps, having Liebgott translate once. Finding out they’re Jews. The realisation for Liebgott that they’re his people. That he could’ve been one of them. It would’ve messed up anyone.

Yet Winters then asks Liebgott to shut the camps, which to this day I have trouble watching that scene. To ask him to order them back into the camp when Webster is right there! To see Liebgott break down, to see that anger fester. He hated the nazi’s before but now, any good nazi is a dead nazi. And you understand him, because who wouldn’t feel that way after what he saw.

Yet the show seems to suggest Liebgott is in the wrong. It feels like Winters punishes him by having him translate what the nazi general is saying. It almost feels violating.

And it does a huge disservice of Easy co. as a whole by making direct links of the nazi prisoners and them.

Anywho, I forgot were I was going with this and I’m not sure if I put it in the right words. Something about never having your world view disturbed and Winters inability to see how bad it all affected Liebgott, maybe because he never experienced it. I don’t know. But definitely one of Winters worst decisions ever in the show.

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Questionnaire Tag!

Thanks for the tag, @anyablackwood (here)!

I'll go with Deimos Soll from Supernova Initiative, Lady Vivaldah Lariach from The Forgotten Ones, and Kane Mylestrom from Song of Thorns!

Your OC Questions:

What is a thing that would break your trust in a person immediately?

What is your favorite animal? Have you ever had a pet/or want one?

Who do you look up to the most?

If you were to wake up in another universe, what is the one thing you would take with you?

Deimos: "My sniper rifle, or food. One of those two options, it depends on what hypothetical 'universe' I happen to wake up in."

Vivaldah: "My sister's necklace, which is also the sigil of our House. It's one of my most prized possessions."

Kane: "I wouldn't call my dragon a 'thing', because she is a sentient and mighty being who deserves all the respect, but yes, I would take my dragon with me."

2. What kind of person pisses you off the most?

Deimos: "People who think they can do anything to others just because they have the power to - snobbish tyrants who think it's their birthright to screw others over. Also, people who objectify others or who think torture is 'okay' just because they think it's justified for a 'greater cause' are a kind person that makes my blood boil immensely."

Vivaldah - "Those who justify cruelty in the name of their 'Gods', and who think they can kill anyone whom they consider 'heretics' just for thinking differently than them. I also hate people who are rude and who like to make fun of others."

Kane - "Cowards and people who turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble, along with liars, manipulators and people who have no moral compass. I also despite royals who consider their subordinates as pawns to be manipulated and discarded once we're no longer of 'use.'"

3. How often do you dream? Are they usually dream-dreams, or nightmares?

Deimos: "Well let's see: I was kidnapped from my homeworld by slavers when I was sixteen, escaped, and grew up as a street urchin - with the duo who became my adoptive siblings - on one of the most crime-ridden moons of our galaxy, and then, as an adult, was captured by an insane warlord who tried to torture me into being her living puppet weapon. So... you can imagine the kind of 'dreams' I have are far from pleasant most nights."

Vivaldah: "I used to have the sweetest dreams in the past. When I was just me being a princess who lived in a rosy-tinted world, sheltered in my family's ancestral palace. Then the Iron Inquisition came. Now my sleep is haunted by the memories of the day my family was slaughtered by them."

Kane: "Eh. I'm not the kind that usually has a lot of dreams, and when I do they're usually the most nonsensical, stupid mess that makes me question my life and sanity, and then wake up and not remember anything about that dream in the morning. So. My dreams aren't bad, they're just weird and I rarely remember most of them."

Tagging (gently) @your-absent-father @ray-writes-n-shit @diabolical-blue, @saltysupercomputer @agirlandherquill

@sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart @sm-writes-chaos

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams @the-golden-comet OPEN TAG