#i have to draw her many many many times in the upcoming months for the bttbttf project so it's a start at least

[kit-screams-into-the-future]

Kit I would cheer & yell so loud if you drew Lorraine! Your style is so good and SHE is so good . . . match made in heaven

lorraine enjoyers (scribe) BEHOLD:

girl.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 28 Let it be fear

Chapter 28 of Moonlight

A/N- :/

Warning- talks of pregnancy, ANGST, FLUFF, fluff, and more fluff, some violence, talks of blood, and SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 491-515

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

There’s a certain beauty that blesses the Trident today as the chilling blue sky lets the cold sun shine over the thick green wilderness, but what is a rainless horizon compared to him?

There’s a serene silence that accompanies you as you overlook The Keep of House Frey from the top of a nearby hill, and in that silence, you’re captivated by the way the sun captures Cregan, and for a moment, like sunbeams breaking through a storm, there’s a warmth in his stormy eyes that melts away the threat he usually carries, providing a warmth only his grey eyes can offer; which is pretty fascinating considering grey is cold, hard, and dull, but those grey eyes of his have a way of being warm under the sun. They’re also mysterious and beautiful like steel against firelight. It’s your favorite color too, but only because he makes it captivating.

Alas, in all that admiration does he notice you? No, and it’s okay because you find your courage and motivation to keep going in his unawareness.

“The last destination,” you break the silence and as if taking one last breath of him you look away to follow his line of sight to the The Twins sitting below.

“You’ll gain their support just like you have gained all the rest,” he offers as a piece of reassurance, but this time it doesn’t ease your concern.

Cregan notices that the moment you don’t respond and only gets reassurance of that when he looks over at you and sees the storm of stress raging behind your eyes. “You will get their support one way or another,” he presses and gently cups your neck, causing you to quickly look away from the keep to meet his eyes that just reflect you this time.

“I burned Lady Frey and her army of men—”

“After they tried to take Harrenhal by force and captured you in the process,” he cuts you off to remind you of that detail. “They were okay with betraying the Queen to take control of the rubble of a useless castle. What you did was justifiable in a time of war. You did the right thing and if they don’t see it that way then we'll make them. Or you will,” he says with a lighthearted huff and proceeds to offer you an assuring smile as he drags his hand down your side to interlace his fingers with yours.

“You’re right,” you breathe out and find it again, just there in his eyes as your hands are interlinked, the bliss of home. However, as you’re in the depths of your comfort you find it in yourself to ask something that’s been gnawing at you. “And once we fight in this upcoming battle when we win, do you think that will be enough to return home? To my mother?”

Cregan blinks in confusion and you explain why you haven’t returned home or sent her a letter. “When I returned from Harrenhal after leaving my mother for months, she said to never leave her again. She found it in herself to forgive me for betraying her and siding with Aemond, but I left again. I left after she told me not to, so do you think gaining this support, building this reputation, and winning the battle will be enough for her to forgive me again? I let her down so many times I don’t know…if this is enough now.”

Cregan lets out a deep breath and his eyes drift to the side as the sound of incoming footsteps starts to ascend the hill, but he doesn’t pay them any mind, he leans his face forward and offers the best reassurance. “She’s your mother, would you forgive your children if you were in her position?”

You draw in a shaky breath and nod gently. “Of course, they’re my children, but…” you trail off and he fills your silence.

“She will forgive you. I can imagine there might have been tension before. This is all a tense situation, but you’re trying and fighting hard for her, she will recognize that and forgive you if she hasn’t already,” he offers you sweet words, making you nod gently in comprehension with no need to seek for more help. He fills your heart with the assurance you need to move on without hesitation or getting lost in the wilderness that are your thoughts.

So much so that you walk down the hill with your head held high and your mind clear because you know the Frey’s have this need to be resistant. They’re stubborn and proud, so you know that this meeting is not going to be as easy as the others were, there will be resistance and you prepare for that accordingly, making sure to have silver chains over your face that match the armor on your corset.

Never once do you falter in your step or the way you carry an intimidating stare behind those silver chains because you can see them the moment you walk into the great hall; you see them look for a fault in your step, a slight mistake, or an out of line hair to pick on and use against you and the people you’re with, but you don’t give them the satisfaction. With your blazing stare alone you challenge the young and great Lady Sabitha Frey, eldest daughter of Lord Frey, and Lady Frey who you killed at Harrenhal.

“Thank you for allowing us in your home,” Addam is the one who breaks the tension first but can hardly gain any of the audience's attention. Lady Sabitha has her sharp eyes on him, but everyone else…they all have their eyes on you as if wanting to tear you apart, but also keep you at a distance fearing if they got too close they’d burn alive too, which means the message was sent.

“I have heard that a great army has been marching through the Riverlands,” Lady Sabitha speaks at last but she doesn’t offer any greetings, she’s blunt and cold. “I was beginning to wonder if we would be paid a visit or be left out.”

“The Riverlands are grand,” Addam says back. “And our task is significant, it’s taken us time, but we are here at last.”

“It was her!” A voice blurts, bringing a stunned silence and turning all of the attention to you standing at Addam’s side—“She was the killer! She burned Lady Serena and her men! She did it! She’s the Fire Demon!”

You tilt your nose to the air and can’t help but smirk in response, but that only lets Lady Sabitha find a reason to finally display her rage and grief because she doesn't care if she got interrupted and humiliated by some common warrior, she's looking for a single step out of line to be able to drive her focus to you and her rage.

“I know there’s unresolved tension,” Addam tries to diffuse the situation. “But right now is not the time—”

“You find this humorous?” Lady Sabitha cuts Addam off without a care. “Is my mother's death funny to you, Princess?” She throws out as she rises off her seat. “Then again what can I expect from someone who breaks enemy lines whenever she pleases? That treason may be pushed aside, but my mother's death will not go unpunished. Not here in my home and my lands,” she sneers and slowly begins to step forward.

“Punished?” She feign a laugh. “What would be my sentence?” You quip and raise your brows to press her. “I showed Lady Serena that there are consequences to her treason—”

“Treason?!” She spats and opens her mouth to continue, but Ser Cane cuts her off.

“You will not interrupt the princess whilst she’s speaking. This may be your house but she still is the heir and your princess,” he scolds her as he takes a big step forward to be a more menacing presence amongst Cregan also standing at your side.

“Sure,” Lady Sabitha mutters under her breath as she comes to a stop without coming too close to you. “As I was saying,” she continues louder even though it should have been you taking the spotlight, but regardless, you let her share her argument. “My mother committed no treason, Prince Jacaerys promised Harrenhal to us. She was only taking what was hers by right.”

You scoff and flash her an amused smile. “If she wanted to take it by right she should have said so,” you rebuttal. “But no, she did not. She knew I was there and took me captive to try and sell me to my mother or my husband. She was willing to change sides. She took me captive, that is treason,” you spat and take a step forward. “Or what you’re going to argue and say it didn’t go that way? Because it did, ask the man who just barged in.”

The attention turns to the man who had interrupted the meeting and he shrinks within himself but doesn’t dare leave. He averts his gaze and listens to Cregan interject. “Tell us if the Princess is right or if your lady is. Now.”

The man blinks nervously and quietly gives his response. “We had lost so much and the lady was grieving her husband, she wanted to find a point to her loss.”

You don’t respond with anything, you look at Lady Sabitha Frey with a pointed glare as you celebrate within.

However, in your silence, you did expect Lady Sabitha to start forming some kind of apology, but she remains at a standstill with her eyes downcasted.

“Bend the knee,” you sneer with your glare turning cold. “You were wrong, bend the knee and give us fighting men to add to our army so we can fight our war. And since you have heard so much about us I’m sure you know which war. Bend the knee.”

A tension grows tenfold in the great hall as Lady Sabitha remains standing because in doing so she causes her people filling this hall to remain resistant as well.

“Bend the knee to your princess and heir by orders of Queen Rhaenyra,” Ser Cane insists in a booming voice.

Yet without speaking Lady Sabitha looks you up and down with her lips curled in anger and remains defiant, and even then you still wait and wait, giving her the benefit of the doubt.

However, when you don’t hear a word or see her bend the knee you throw your hand back without saying a word. And without the need for instructions as if your minds are connected, Ser Cane pulls Blackfyre out of its sheath, filling the hall with the sharp ringing of metal scraping before the Valyrian steel blade glistens against the rays of the sun as the large sword is handed to you. Once you have it in your grasp you then step forward to be at the center of attention.

“I am your heir,” you say in a voice laced with deadly venom that brings chills to the audience without the need to yell to get your point or voice across. “I am your princess. I am the Blood Dragon, you will bend the knee, pledge fealty to Queen Rhaenyra first of her name, and me, her chosen heir.”

Lady Sabitha glances at your shining sword and then slowly meets your gaze without uttering a single word. She keeps quiet and her glare becomes challenging and conflicted.

“Unless you plan to switch loyalty,” you continue in the same venomous voice still missing volume. “If so, tell me right now by pulling out your sword or choosing your champion.”

Lady Sabitha Frey tilts her head and snaps her gaze to your belly. “And you will fight like that?” She points her eyes to your belly, making you scoff and flash her a smile that’s all too menacing.

“I won’t fight,” you clarify. “I could say I want a champion and all my men would volunteer. Even Lord Stark and Ser Addam would fight for me, but why waste their energy or risk their lives when I have my dragon as champion? Tell me Lady Frey can you, your people, and your castle stand against my dragon?” You finally start to raise your voice. “Or will you turn to ash just like your mother did?”

Gasps bounce around the room and the woman’s jaw clenches as her eyes turn even more fierce.

“Tell me!” You exclaim and then turn on your heels to point the tip of your sword at the audience remaining just as defiant as their Lady. “Tell me if any of you can stand against my dragon!”

As expected, silence, even from the brave lady.

“No?” you continue. “Well, I can. I am the Fire Demon! My flesh is fire made!” Your voice continues to boom out of frustration, and passion as well. “And,” you laugh and slowly lower the volume of your voice but never drop the venom behind it. “It will bring me great pleasure to watch you all burn and scream as your flesh melts off your bones. Just say the word.”

Lady Sabitha Frey looks around at all the frightened looks that the audience all share in her defiance. She looks and looks in hopes for something that can keep her own flame from being blown out, but that defiance once so vividly lit within her people is snuffed out by the great fire you are and she knows she’s lost. When she turns to look at you and meets your glowering glare, you further prove to her that you’re not one to bluff, so what other choice does she have?

Thus without uttering a single word, but with the intention clear in her eyes she drops her challenging glare and drops her head in defeat. The moment you see her head fall, to add more shame to her actions you get close to her and throw your hand out just below her eye line.

Now Lady Sabitha has no need for explanations, she knows what you mean and what you want, so what other choice does she have but to slowly bend down, grab the tip of your fingers, and push her lips forward to press a light feathered peck on your golden Targaryen sigil ring before she at last bends the knee, causing the once defiant audience to follow her suit and bend the knee.

Once you see the top of everyone’s heads you look down at her again between your lashes and shoot her smirk before you turn around dramatically and talk to her over your shoulder. “You will lend us the swords we came for, and in response to your treason, Harrenhal is no longer yours. You will keep your lands, your home, and your lives, I will make sure to let the Queen know of your loyalty and apology as well.” You share with a honey-laced tone that only shames them more. “Oh, and you will prepare your home to host your guests accordingly, I will be staying inside for the night. Pleasure doing business with you, House Frey.”

——

*LATER*

What is it about the day?

There was a sense of peace that filled the day as the sun reigned over the sky. Even after the complicated business with the Frey’s, the serenity stayed, but now even against the fiery sky cast over the land, the dragons are caught in a restless spell as if they were uncomfortable and needed to be somewhere but couldn’t quite find a way to leave. They’re just flying in circles, filling the fierce sky with their almost melancholy song.

Maybe they’re tired of being in the Riverlands? Astraea and Seasmoke do love the sea, you think to yourself as Addam walks in and joins you in the library.

“They’re acting odd don’t you think?” You ask him as you refer to your dragons. “They’ve been circling the sky and crying for a while now.”

Addam approaches you near the window that has the best view of the running river that The Twins stand over, and at the moment notices the way the setting sun in its red and orange reign catches you with its fierce hues, but never once makes you look threatening or as rageful. The red and orange hue makes you appear enchanting and otherworldly; everything a Valyrian princess should be under such a fierce horizon.

“I wish I could know,” he doesn’t offer any kind of solution. “Where’s your Lord Stark?”

You roll your eyes away from the window and glance down at the book you have been reading. “He’s busy answering correspondence from home,” you let Addam know regardless if he’s teasing you. “He is a busy man, you know? He doesn’t just spend time at my side. You just happen to catch him with me when you look for me, that’s all.”

“Okay, okay,” Addam brushes you off lightheartedly and then nudges your knee with his foot. “You changed, you look nice.”

You look at him with a smile. “Thank you,” you redirect before you start to grin with amusement. “Just so you remember I am meant to change about three to four times a day. There’s my morning gown, my lunch and afternoon gown, my dinner gown, and if I go out or have to attend a meeting or court I change for that.”

Addam snickers and hides his grin by looking out the window. “I remember,” he says in response. “It’s ridiculous and a waste if you ask me. I mean why not wear the same thing all day or twice?”

You scrunch your nose. “Twice?” You quip. “I have only worn my favorite and most expensive gowns more than once, and now that we’re out here I have no other option, but why would I wear things repeatedly?”

Addam scoffs and leans forward. “Because why waste your money on something so materialistic?” He retorts with a dry laugh. “And because why not use it more than once?”

You squint at him and shake your head. “Money is not a problem for me,” you explain as if it isn't an obvious fact about you. “I am a Velaryon, our family is the richest there is, why shouldn’t I spend my share? Besides, there’s so many beautiful fabrics and talented designers, I can’t resist it,” you muse. “And all the colors,” you swoon. “The embroidery? The gold, pearl, or silver linings? It’s all so beautiful!”

With nothing left to argue with in his defense, Addam leaves it be with a roll of his eyes, letting you finally find the time to share the news you have been holding in for what feels like months. “Can I tell you something?”

“You’re going to do it anyway,” he retorts and rests his head back against the wooden panel as he locks his eyes on you. “What?”

A giddy smile creeps on your lips as you lean forward and grab his hands before you share. “Cregan and I are betrothed.”

Addam blinks repeatedly and his eyebrows slowly begin to pinch together, but then from one moment to the next, he flashes you a smile and scoffs. “I should have seen that coming. When did he ask?”

“A couple of nights ago,” you share and lean back without being able to let your smile go. “The night we had our campfire.”

Addam hums and slowly passes you a quizzical look. “Has he asked your mother? Or Lord Corlys? That’s who he would need to ask, no? How does that work without your father or Daemon?”

You shoot him a pointed glare. “I am a grown woman already with child. I don’t belong to anyone for him to ask permission. If I was a maiden then yes, he would have to ask for my hand, but I’m a widow. It’s my choice now…However,” you do add and avert your gaze. “Since I’m heir he does need to tell my mother, the Queen, but she won’t protest.”

You turn your gaze back to him and sigh to release your excitement before you clasp your hands and start to nervously fiddle with your rings. “But that’s not the only reason I’m telling you,” you pause and let out another deep breath before you look at him with a softened gaze riddled with a fragile vulnerability that could break at any given second.

“Weddings under the Old Gods are different,” you continue to say a bit quieter now. “They’re done under a heart three and usually a father walks the bride to the groom, but…my father is gone and Jacaerys is gone. I could ask my grandfather, but…I wanted to ask if you could walk me down the aisle when the day comes?” You ask and blink nervously, with each blink filling your eyes with more and more tears whilst Addam’s breath hitches and his own face drops that taunting expression to instead display his disbelief.

“It's okay if you don’t want to,” you quickly assure him in his silence you can’t read. “I can ask Joffrey, I’m sure he’ll be delighted to take that role.” You share your alternative with a happy smile so he doesn’t feel bad.

However, after another second of silence passes he finally draws out a deep breath he had been holding in and nods gently before he voices his answer. “I would be honored to walk you down the aisle.”

You beam and then lean forward to grab his hands and give it a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” you offer sweetly. “Now Cregan and I want to marry after the war is over so we don’t have that weighing down on us or potentially ruin the day, so there’s still time, but I wanted to ask you now.”

Addam lowers his head to hide his smile whilst he also interjects with a smug comment. “You also need time to have your gown made, don’t you? What will it be made out of?”

You giggle and as you part your lips to rebuttal with something witty a knock raps on the door, pulling your attention away from your conversation.

“Come,” you welcome the visitor and slowly pull away from Addam.

The door opens and Cregan walks in. You’re happy to see him, you greet him with a smile, but when he walks further inside with a scroll in his hand you notice the solemn look he carries. And he’s usually serious so his expression shouldn’t really concern you all that much, but there’s something about the solemn look that he carries now that makes the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

“Cregan,” you utter his name nervously and don’t move, hoping that if you stay in place whatever he has to say won't reach you.

“My princess,” he greets hesitantly and then greets Addam with a small nod. “Ser.”

You swallow back nervously and press your hands against the cushion to stand up, but he quickly shakes his head and retorts. “Why don’t you stay sitting.”

A shaky breath escapes you and you nod stiffly as you feel the goosebumps travel from the back of your neck down to the perimeters of your skin.

“What’s wrong?” You ask and his grey eyes leave you to drift to the scroll in his hand. You follow his line of gaze but then drift your eyes back to him in hopes that whatever it has to say isn’t as bad as you’re starting to assume.

“A raven just came,” Cregan finally shares and slowly drifts his gaze back to you. “From Kings Landing. It’s for you.”

You were starting to assume it was for you. You could read it off his face.

“I could paraphrase what it says. I think that would be better with the news it contains,” he says and only adds more fuel to the already worrisome fire, but you can’t have him summarize whatever news arrived for you or else you won’t believe it. You need to read every word yourself even though you’ll have a hard time believing it too.

“No, no. I want to read it. Let me read it,” you press him and stretch your hand out to reach for the scroll. However, Cregan hesitates and grabs the scroll with both hands to smooth out the parchment first before he leans forward and hands it to you.

“Thank you,” you whisper breathlessly and watch how the paper trembles in your hold as you already expect the worst news to be written on the parchment because what else would it be?

Life has been cruel. Why would it be nice now?

You shouldn’t even read it, you should leave the news unread because at least that way you’ll be oblivious to anything…but you also know you won’t rest easy if you don’t know, so after a deep breath you turn the parchment and read what was brought to you.

“To The Princess and Heir of Queen Rhaenyra,

I dislike having to send you this letter, but it has to be written so you may know.

I regret to inform you that as of last night, all the dragons that were kept in the Dragonpit have perished after an angry mob of smallfolk following some fake prophet called The Shepherd, raided the Dragonpit—“

Your breath hitches and you feel as if somebody had punched you in the stomach. The news that the power of your house, and the beautiful creatures that are like your soulmates have all perished at the hands of common folk filled with anger sinks your heart. It leaves you paralyzed in your seat, but you don’t cry. Not yet.

“—when the news broke of what was transcending the young Prince Joffrey left the Red Keep against the Queen’s wishes, mounted Syrax, and fell from the saddle whilst in the sky—”

A shaky breath escapes you and a heavy pressure falls on your chest, but you don’t cry. Not yet.

“—Syrax perished not much later after getting caught in the mob that killed the other dragons. And it seems that at the news of Dreamfyre’s unfortunate passing, Princess Helaena Targaryen flung herself from a window and fell to her death, enraging the crowds—“

More pressure falls on your chest, your bottom lip trembles and your eyes sting further as the tears building in your eyes pain them. However, you don’t cry. Not yet.

Cregan who was watching you read the letter expects you to weep. He keeps a close eye out, expecting you to fold over in heartache, but you remain poised and collected, almost like the agony is not as hurtful anymore.

“—and making the city fall. Amidst the chaos Queen Rhaenyra took Prince Aegon, Lord Aerion, the Queensguard, trusted knights, and her handmaidens, and escaped the city, leaving Lord Corlys in his imprisonment which he escaped. As to where she is we don’t know, but until your return with Ser Addam, it’s best she remains hiding. That’s why I write to you in hopes you can retaliate at once and take back the city. You are our only hope unless Prince Daeron marches here first.

Maester Orwyle.”

You watch the words on the parchment and go over the news in your head again and again, faster and faster every single time until you can’t process any more news and you’re sitting there baffled and without being able to utter a single word. Time is at a standstill, the once-warm room is freezing and your body is paralyzed.

Cregan and Addam call out your name ever so softly, fearing that you’ll break if they raise their voices, but you stay there stiffly, realizing that you have to mourn yet another beloved brother. You had five, now you’re left with a single one who barely knows your name.

The woman you loved like a sister, the woman you cherished and adored, the woman who was your dearest friend, the woman you grew up with is gone because she couldn’t bear any more grief. Your grandfather escaped a cell you didn’t know he was in. And your mother is on the run with your remaining brother and your son to escape the angry crowds who brought the city down with their rage which you assume is caused by the same things that were upsetting them when you were there; things your mother can’t control.

Everything you once knew is slipping from your grasp. You can see that clearly now—no, you’re admitting that to yourself now. The only thing you have left is a fragment of hope and it’s just your mother, your brother, and Aerion. They’re all you have left. They’re that last fragment of hope. Yet even if you still have them, even if they’re the last flicker of hope you’re holding onto, nothing stops that pressure once weighing your chest down from tearing you down because you still lost all the beautiful and cherished dragons that connected you to Old Valyria. You lost Helaena, your beloved and gentle aunt who was more like the sister you never got to have. And you lost your little brother Joffrey, a boy you held when he was only a few minutes old, a brother who was the reminder of your sweet childhood; the sweet and blissful life you had before you were ripped from your family. He was that last piece of your childhood and now he’s gone, taking that memory with him, and leaving nothing but this new version of you.

And yet you still don’t cry. Even with the two pairs of eyes that feel like a hundred people are waiting for you to break down, you still don’t cry. You do reflect the grief through your eyes, but you don’t weep, you don’t shed even a single tear. You let out a shaky breath and sit up straight with your head hanging low, but you don’t cry. You shake your head gently at the realization of the tragedy, but you don’t cry. You meet Cregan’s worried and pitiful gaze and remain collected. It takes a lot out of you to remain so strong, but you remember all you were taught and lift your head high and keep your chest out with your nose slowly starting to flare.

“Addam,” you break your silence, making the man’s shoulders jump and be even more attentive than he already was.

“I hope you’re ready,” you continue to mutter in a low and almost threatening voice. “We’re moving up our plans. We will attack Tumbleton right away.”

Addam shifts in his seat before he probes. “Why? What’s going on?”

You let out a deep huff and your drooped gaze slowly starts to harden, whilst your heart begins to pound in your chest as your blood starts pumping through your veins frantically.

“I want to catch them by surprise now,” you share in that same almost threatening way. It’s not threatening yet but it’s slowly building up to it. “I don’t want them to see us coming until the sky is falling down upon them so word is not passed to King’s Landing that we’re coming.”

Cregan and Addam share a worried look and you proceed to get up from your seat to look at them both between your lashes.

“We’re going to attack King’s Landing,” you proclaim, and with that threat, you completely abandon every desire to be loved and respected. If they want to fear you, you’ll give them a reason to really fear you. “They’re preaching that we’re a threat, a curse, and a menace,” you scoff and smirk menacingly. “So I will be just that. I will rain fire down upon them so they may see the curse they want me to be”

Neither man try to talk you down from the rage clearly now set upon you, they could try but what good would that do? So they do nothing but accept and welcome your rage.

“Come,” you direct at Cregan as you walk past him. “I’m going to tell the troops to get ready. We leave tonight.”

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

The sun is slowly lowering over the horizon, and with each passing second as the sun slowly leaves the sky darker and darker, making you grow more nervous as the fate of this battle is unknown. All that’s known is that only one side will win and depending on who comes out to fight another day, that person will determine the fate of this war and your mother's survival. With all the dragons dead and the others against her, she can only depend on Addam and you. If you lose tonight, she does too. So you can’t lose.

“You know,” Cregan interjects through the solemn silence that was blanketing you both, but in doing so he doesn’t pull your attention to him, you keep your eyes on the painted sky as if today will be the last time you ever see a sunset as beautiful as the one over your head.

“I wish you would wear more than just a chainmail gown,” he finally shares his complaints that have been nagging him since he saw you with the chainmail gown on you. “I would feel a lot better knowing you were heavily protected.”

You scoff and roll your eyes his way. “Do you want me to look like a cannonball with a full set of heavy armor?” You quip with a teasing smile. “Because that’s what I would look like.”

Cregan tries to muster a laugh but with his heavy worry dragging him down he can’t even muster the twitch of a smile. “At least you and the twins would be protected against anything that may come your way.”

You sigh deeply and drag yourself closer to him to grab his cold hands and cling onto them as you try and offer him some reassurance. “My Astraea will protect me from any incoming threat, and this chainmail gown is enough to block any attack. I’ll be fine, besides, I won’t stray too far from my dragon I…intend to keep my promise to Addam and Ser Cane,” you laugh stiffly. “No ground fighting if it’s not completely necessary.”

Cregan watches the way you caress his knuckles with your thumb as he tries not to argue against you, so you proceed to pull one hand away from his grasp and reach over to cup his jaw. “I won’t die tonight. I want to live. I have to live, so don’t worry about me, okay?”

Cregan’s dark eyebrows furrow and his eyes snap to you. “How could you tell me not to worry? About you of all people.”

The corner of your lips twitch to a smile as your heart is riddled with admiration. “Because my love, there beside all my grief and agony is a dream I want to see through. A dream that involves going back home with you. I thought about it…” you trail off to a whisper and drop the hand you have on his cheek to grab his hand once again.

“My mother has Aegon and Aerion, so hopefully by the time it comes to passing her crown down she’ll be old and wrinkly and the boys will be men, so they will be mature and ready to rule the kingdom she’ll leave behind,” you share words you never thought would come out of your mouth when you were younger, but now…what does Queen even mean without your brothers, Aemond, or anyone you used to know by your side?

It doesn’t mean anything. Not even a fraction of what it once meant to your beating heart and deepest desires. That’s why this new dream is easy to share because you’re certain it’s what you want.

“Because I don’t want any part of it,” you continue and he parts his lips in surprise. “I want to stay in Winterfell with you, with our family that we will have, and the people we will govern together. I don’t want to be Queen anymore, I want to be your princess until our last breath.”

Cregan shakes his head and reaches his hand over to cradle your face. “No, you can’t do that. Being Queen is all you wanted. You can’t just abandon that dream,” he tries to argue against the plans you murmur to him, but there’s nothing to argue about, you slept on it and pondered it long and hard so you’re certain abandoning your title as heir is what you desire the most.

“You’re wrong,” you argue and look at him with a softened gaze as you just admire him. “My dream is you now. You’re everything I want, so please don’t try and convince me any longer because my mind is made. Once this war is over I will take my children and pack all my life to leave with you. That’s why I’ll survive because I want to go home. Is that not nice?” You ask as your face contorts with heartache out of worry that he doesn’t like the sound of your new desires.

However, Cregan’s grip grows firmer against your cheeks and his hardened face twisted by surprise now softens and that smile that was once impossible slowly gets painted on his pale face. “Of course it’s nice. It’s great and I will do everything in my power to give you that beautiful dream, my darling love.”

You huff softly in relief and let him pull you closer to him so he can whisper against your lips.

“But tell me you’re certain. Tell me that your heart is set on this new dream of yours because I don’t want you abandoning something you always wanted out of fear or because of me.”

You grab into his wrists and nod gently. “I’m certain,” you affirm and kiss the heel of his palms. “I want to be wherever you are. I want to be home.”

The corner is his lips tug wider but that smile is quickly hidden as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I will always keep an eye out for you tonight,” he lets you know. “I will have your back from the ground, but if the battle gets too heavy you fly away, okay? Everyone will understand. You leave the fighting to Addam and us, okay? I know you’re angry, but my darling, you need to worry about your children, if not you, then worry about them.”

You swallow back nervously as you wish to protest, but in the state you’re in you really can’t fight like you used to, so you have to agree regardless.

“Okay,” you reassure him and gently stroke his wrist with your thumb before you steal a glance at his lips, and then look up into his grey eyes with a softened look full of awe before you lean in and steal a lingering kiss from his pink lips.

The kiss is not long, but it’s deep and full of passion. It’s full of longing and desire, and it reminds the both of you how much you really missed this form of intimacy. You missed being connected in such a sweet and passionate way that only you and him can ever understand. You missed the taste of each other, and getting lost in the wonders that kissing each other brings to your isolated world where only you and him exist.

However, once again it’s not long. Not as long as he would’ve wanted because you still feel odd kissing someone else after losing Aemond.

“And with this kiss my sweet Lord you have my favor in this upcoming battle,” you murmur against his lips, making him chuckle and then stroke your bottom lip with his thumb before he leans over and presses a peck on your lips.

“Gods I missed kissing you,” he flatters you and makes your face grow hot. “Once we marry I’ll never know that feeling ever again.”

You giggle and reach over to grab his face one more time before you pull away and pull a ring off from your finger; one your father had given you that carries this beautiful called The Gem of The Sea.

“This is my real favor,” you tell him and grab his hand to place the ring on his palm. “I want it back, okay? It’s really expensive and the gem is one of a kind.”

Cregan scoffs but he wraps his hand around the ring before he secures it in his pocket. “I’ll hang it around my chain later.”

You let out a deep breath and nod before you go still as you catch him sliding off a wolf brooch that was hooked to his cloak.

“And this is for you,” he lets you know and leans toward you to clip the brooch onto your fur cloak. “You’ll be a Stark soon, why not wear something that represents your new name?”

“And you?” You interject and offer him a giddy smile. “My betrothed?”

He huffs and drops his head to hide his smile. “Well yes because you’ll be all mine soon enough.” He says confidently as he meets your gaze with a smirk. “That’s why I will live, so you can at last be my wife.”

“I will be,” you whisper and glance at the wolf brooch to mutter, “now this will be like having you right beside me. Thank you. I’ll cherish it.”

“Good,” he says breathlessly before he lets out a deep breath and just takes you in for a lingering minute as the last rays of sun lose its grip on the earth and dance on your face.

He memorizes the color of your eyes, down to every small hue. He takes note of the form of your lips, of the curve of your cheeks, and the shape of your jaw as if he's afraid that if he doesn't take his time to mark every part of you in his memory he will forget the moment you were out of sight. He almost doesn’t want to keep his eyes off you, but once the sun is completely gone and the earth is completely cast in the darkness, you both stand up and walk away from your stolen moment to rejoin your army of men all ready to attack Tumbleton and the army of men occupying it to once and for all put an end to The Green army.

Yet how can you depart toward your dragon without offering them a few words of encouragement first? And once they see your presence upon that hill that overlooks them a wave of chills washes over them. Not because they fear you, but because they are filled with awe and respect at the sight of you in your glimmering black chainmail gown.

“I know,” you address the crowd as they go quiet upon the sight of your presence. “Today's attack came sooner than expected. We have been marching with little rest since we left the twins, but it’s not for nothing. Tonight we attack Tumbleton!” You proclaim and garner some murmurs. “Tonight we put an end to the Hightower army and the turncloaks that sit behind that wall! Us! Not just you, and not just me! All of us! You are the blood to my fire.”

“Yeah!” The men below bellow and throw their fists in the air.

“As you all know I am with child,” you continue. “But that won’t stop me, I will fight with you tonight upon my dragon. I will kill Prince Daeron Targaryen and his dragon tonight and be one step closer to ending the tyranny of his brother and faction!” You exclaim with a growl behind that threat. “Now I won’t lie, some of you won’t see daylight again. Some of you know that too, but your deaths won’t be in vain, you will bleed and die for your families, your homes, your lords! Your pride! And your Queen! Tonight we fight for her! We fight to win! We won’t lose tonight! We will win with fire and blood! Us! WE WILL WIN WITH WHATEVER IT TAKES! WITH FIRE AND BLOOD!”

“BLOOD DRAGON! BLOOD DRAGON!” All the men below implode into a cheer full of vigor, making chills crawl down your own spine as you watch them all pumped with adrenaline and ferocity.

“I’m going to join my squadron now,” Cregan interjects and snaps your attention to him, calming down your racing heart. “Be careful.”

You blink repeatedly before you rush to him to close the gap with an embrace. “Take care, okay? I can’t lose you too.”

Cregan hugs you back and presses a kiss on your head. “You won’t lose me.”

You let out a shaky breath and clutch onto him tighter. “Take care of Ser Cane for me, okay?”

He scoffs but nods to assure you. “I will…I love you.”

You smile softly and turn your head to press one last kiss on his cheek. “I love you too.”

You proceed to pull back and he cups your cheek one more time to linger in each other's presence for another moment before you both part ways, letting him join his men, and letting you join your dragon and Addam and his dragon.

“If things start to get too out of control you fly out there, okay?” Addam interjects the moment he sees you making your way to him. “And don’t be getting off your dragon for anything unless you really have to.”

Even though he’s scolding you, you still can’t help but flash him a giddy smile as he makes you feel such a warm feeling.

“I know, I know,” you roll out and meet him halfway. “You have told me multiple times. I will not involve myself in any heavy fighting, or fight on the ground. I know.”

Addam puts his hand on his hip and sighs. “Yes well, you like to be spontaneous and think about yourself.”

Your smile falls but you don’t get upset because no matter how harsh it is it’s true.

“Don’t think about yourself,” he presses and looks at you with concern. “Your son needs you and your mother needs you. Don’t let your anger consume you.”

You blink repeatedly as his words ache your heart.

“You be careful too,” you whisper to the ground. “I need you. And Alyn needs you.”

He scoffs and as you look up you see him nod softly. You proceed to reach over and grab his arm to gain his unwavering attention. “I love you, Addam. You are someone to me, and I wish we would have met sooner, but I am glad our paths crossed. You…saved me from drowning in my grief. Without you, I would have died in that lake waiting for a dead man to come back to life. I…wouldn’t be here if you weren’t in my life.”

Addam’s eyes fill to the brim with tears but only two single tears break out and roll down his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he whispers softly and offers you half a smile. “You know all my life I looked up at the world from the surface I was born in, it made me believe you were untouchable gods too high in the sky to care about anyone below you, but…when I too touched the clouds, when I met you…I see now that you are good. You have a good heart. You are a bit mad for liking the things you like, but you are like the sister I never had and I will always be thankful for that. I will always be thankful for you.”

Tears fill your eyes but you refuse to cry. You don't want to cry so you gnaw on your bottom lip and hold it all in.

“I love you too,” he redirects and closes the gap that was left between you to embrace you—“Be careful, okay?”

You nod as you hold onto him and whisper back. “I will. You be careful too.”

“I will,” he assures you before he pulls back and taps your chest with his fist, causing you to mirror his actions right back at him.

“I’ll see you up there,” you interject one more time, making him flash you a smile and offer you a nod before you both pull away from each other and mount your respected dragons.

“<Don’t worry girl,” you talk to Astraea as you click on your restraints—or as many as you can with your swollen belly in the way. “…today we won’t be the day we lose>.”

Astraea turns her head to look at you, making you offer her a gentle smile. “<Our fight won’t be over after this fight but we will be one step closer. You’ve been doing great>.”

Astraea growls and you can’t help but grin wider whilst you wrap your hands around the handles. When Astraea looks back at the dark sky you follow her line of gaze and take one last look at the serene night sky, taking note of the stars, and taking a deep breath of the brisk and clean air before you part your lips and mutter. “<Fly, Astraea.>”

Your she-dragon starts walking down slowly before she quickly picks up her pace, opens her giant purple wings, and then takes flight at the same time as Seasmoke, sending a signal to the army of men below to start running. Not marching, running.

You are so close to Tumbleton that you don’t want to risk being seen by any man. You want to stay under the cover of night and catch them by surprise so you rush, hitting the ground with thousands of claps of thunder as horses sprint through empty fields of grass.

The sky is silent, giving the illusion of a serene night, but looming threats cover the light of the stars and cast large shadows over the earth that fly past at an incredible speed.

A heightened rush of adrenaline connects you all as you get closer and closer to the grand battle, but nothing and you mean absolutely nothing matters but your anger. As if Daeron was solely at fault for all the pain you endured and everything that had happened all you can focus on is him and the rage that makes your blood and your heart thump violently.

You should keep your mind clear, you should fly into this war selflessly, after all, thousands of lives, and the lives of your mother, your son, and your brother depend on you to win this war, but there’s no fight with yourself when you choose to be selfish. You choose the blood-thirsty and raging anger. That’s all you hear. That’s all that fills you. It burns like the blasts of fire that rain down the moment you cross enemy lines and create chaos. And it’s all you see until there’s him; Daeron Targaryen standing in the midst of the army of his men.

His blond-silver hair stands out in between the storm of people all sent into a panic, and the wave of fires that wash over the army.

He stands there with his dark eyes on you and your raging dragon.

He stands there, Daeron Targaryen. He’s all you see and it makes your already heightened anger that more livid.

——

*A FEW YEARS AGO. KING’S LANDING*

The sun is high and beaming down fiercely. The breeze, when it does run, is hot, bringing with it waves of heat that run through your bodies and can’t cool down with any open window or fluttering fan, raising the already high tensions that are forever set between your families.

Yet no matter how high the tensions are, how many whispers are passed, and side glares are shot, none of that affects you, Jacaerys, Lucerys, Aegon, Helaena, Aemond, or Daeron.

Besides, today on the hottest day of summer is Daeron’s last day in the Red Keep. After today he will leave for Old Town until gods know when to become a ward…

.

.

.

.

A/N- For story purposes Daeron was apart of everyone’s childhoods, he won’t be forgotten here!

Tagged- @namelesslosers @stargaryenx @chainsawsangel @lauftivy @winxschester @cloudroomblog @llarue @padsdarlg @sofietargaryen @gracielikegrapes @dreaming-of-the-reality @itzelpeyton @patdsinner33 @mrsdominickstark @elaena-aerrin @todoroki-slut @snh96 @urmomsgirlfriend1 @nifujiswhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @kaetastic @lightdragonrayne @squidscottjeans @oh-you-mean-me @wallacewillow0773638 @icefrye19 @thescottpack @fiction-fanfic-reader @crazymusicgirl104 @r-3dlips @strangersunghoon @just-pure-trash @ethereal-athalia @missyviolet123 @callsignwidow @xunquish-blog @tabathastan @weepingfashionwritingplaid @answer-the-sirens @silverlightsaber @rosey1981 @amortentiaaaa

[millyh23]

Based on this request

Growing pains

Emily Fox x Reader

Word count: 3k

A/N : I tried my best to do it justice and got a little carried away my vape also died on me so I cannot be held responsible for how this flows. It is abit choppy I might come back and edit it one day 🤞

_________________________________________________

The campus buzzed with life as students rushed between classes, the air thick with the scent of autumn leaves and fresh coffee. You found yourself sitting in the corner of the bustling café on campus, a favorite spot for many. It was here that you first met Emily Fox.

You had heard of her—an up-and-coming star in women’s football, her talent already drawing attention. But it was her infectious smile and genuine personality that captivated you as she sat at a corner table, sketching out plays in her notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Hey, are you always this focused, or is it just that impressive?” you joked, startling her out of her thoughts. She looked up, surprise morphing into a radiant smile that lit up her face.

“Thanks! Just trying to figure out my game plan,” she replied, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “I’m Emily.”

“Y/n,” you introduced yourself, feeling an instant connection.

From that moment, you spent more time together, shared late-night study sessions, and discovered a rhythm that felt natural. Emily was vibrant and passionate about football, and you admired her determination to succeed on and off the pitch. You often joked that she was destined for greatness.

One evening, as you walked through the campus under the stars, you turned to her, heart racing. “Do you think we’re growing apart?”

Emily paused, her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know… with everything you have going on, I just feel like I’m losing you,” you admitted, vulnerability creeping into your voice.

“Hey, you’re not losing me. I promise,” she assured you, her eyes locking onto yours with sincerity. “I want you to be part of this journey.”

With those words, you felt a surge of hope, believing that love could conquer all challenges.

As the months rolled on, Emily’s dedication to football intensified. She spent hours training, attending team practices, and preparing for matches that could determine her future. Each time she came back to you, excitement radiating from her, but you noticed the subtle shifts in her demeanor.

One afternoon, you found her sitting on the floor of her dorm, surrounded by scattered gear, energy bars, and notes about her upcoming matches. “I got selected for the national team camp!” she exclaimed, eyes sparkling with ambition.

“That’s amazing!” you replied, trying to mask the twinge of envy that crept in. “When do you leave?”

“In two weeks,” she said, her voice filled with determination. “I have to practice every day.”

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride for her but also a gnawing worry that she was slipping away. The more she succeeded, the more you felt like a bystander in her life.

“Emily, can we talk?” you asked one evening, your voice shaky as you sat across from her at a small table in the café.

“Of course! What’s on your mind?” she replied, her attention focused on you, but you could see the tension lurking in her smile.

“I feel like you’re so focused on your football that I’m becoming background noise,” you confessed, your heart pounding. “I want to support you, but I also need to feel like I matter.”

Her expression shifted, surprise and guilt washing over her. “I didn’t realize you felt that way. I’m sorry; I’m just so caught up in everything. I promise I’ll make more time for us.”

You nodded, hoping she meant it, but as the days passed, the distance between you began to widen. You found yourself waiting for her texts, counting the minutes until she could squeeze you into her busy schedule.

The breaking point came one rainy afternoon. You were both sitting in her dorm, drenched from the downpour outside, the atmosphere heavy with unspoken words.

“Emily, this isn’t working,” you finally said, the frustration bubbling to the surface. “I feel like I’m fighting for your attention, and it’s exhausting.”

Her eyes widened. “I’m trying! You have to understand how important this is to me!”

“I do understand, but you’re losing sight of us!” you shouted, the words escaping before you could stop them. Silence enveloped the room, the tension palpable.

“Maybe we just need a break,” Emily suggested hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.

The suggestion stung, but you felt the truth behind it. “Maybe you’re right. I don’t want to hold you back.”

As the words hung in the air, you both knew it was the beginning of the end. You parted ways that day, hearts heavy with the weight of what could have been.

The following months were a blur of loneliness and heartache. Emily threw herself into her training, while you drowned in studies and late nights, each passing day a reminder of what you once had.

Friends encouraged you to move on, but the memories lingered, haunting your thoughts. You often found yourself at the café where you first met, nursing a cup of coffee, listening to other athletes talk about their dreams. Each story reminded you of Emily, the way she would light up when discussing her passion for football.

One night, as you sat alone, a familiar melody caught your attention. The sound of a sports broadcast filled the café, and you looked up to see highlights of Emily’s matches playing on the screen. She was a force on the field, her talent undeniable, and you felt a mix of pride and sorrow.

In that moment, you realized that while she was thriving, the emptiness inside you grew. You threw yourself into your own passions, each small victory a bittersweet reminder of what could have been. Yet, deep down, you both felt the pull of what you had shared, the love that still lingered beneath the surface.

Eventually, fate brought you back together, the spark still igniting the air between you. The years of heartbreak and longing had transformed into a deeper understanding of each other. Emily’s eyes held a new light, one that spoke of lessons learned and experiences gained.

“I’ve missed you,” she said, her voice soft yet steady. “I’ve learned so much about myself… and us.”

“Me too,” you replied, heart racing as you stepped closer, the distance between you feeling both familiar and foreign. “Maybe we can find a way to make this work, this time.”

As the days turned into weeks, you found your rhythm again, but the fear of losing each other loomed like a shadow over your budding connection. Just when things seemed to be stabilizing, Emily received a major national team call-up.

The news sent shockwaves through your relationship, igniting a whirlwind of emotions.

“I can’t believe this is happening!” she exclaimed one afternoon, excitement radiating from her. “I’ve been selected to train with the national team! This could be my chance to play in the World Cup!”

“That’s incredible, Em!” you replied, masking the anxiety that bubbled beneath the surface. “When do you leave?”

“They want me to start training in two weeks,” she said, her voice tinged with excitement. “This is everything I’ve ever wanted!”

You felt a lump in your throat. “What about us?” you asked, fear creeping into your voice. “You know how hard it was to be apart before. Do you really think we can handle that again?”

Emily’s face fell, the joy of the opportunity overshadowed by the weight of your words. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she said, her eyes wide with concern. “But I can’t turn this down. It’s my dream.”

You felt a mix of pride and dread. On one hand, you were thrilled about her success, but on the other, the thought of losing her again felt suffocating. “I want you to chase your dreams, Em. But what about us? What if this opportunity takes you away for good?”

The tension hung between you like a heavy fog, and you both knew that the stakes were high. You could see the internal struggle reflected in her eyes—a fierce desire for her dreams clashing with the love she felt for you.

“I’ve worked so hard to get here,” she said, her voice trembling. “But I don’t want to lose you either.”

In that moment, you both stood at a crossroads, the weight of your love and her ambition pressing down on you. It was a painful reminder that sometimes, love wasn’t enough to bridge the gap between two people with their own dreams.

As the decision day approached, the air between you felt charged with unspoken words and emotions. You both had been trying to navigate this new reality, but the tension was palpable. You caught glimpses of Emily’s excitement, but the shadows of doubt loomed larger.

One night, you found yourselves sitting on her bed, the room dimly lit by fairy lights. Emily was scrolling through her phone, showing you images from her recent matches, her face alight with enthusiasm.

“Look at this crowd!” she said, her eyes sparkling. “I can’t believe how far I’ve come.”

“I’m so proud of you,” you replied, forcing a smile as your heart tightened. “But… do you think you’ll have time for us if this all takes off?”

The question hung in the air, a fragile thread that threatened to snap at any moment. Emily’s smile faltered, and she looked away, her expression shifting. “I want to make time for us, but… I don’t know how. Everything is happening so fast.”

You reached out, taking her hand in yours. “I just don’t want to be the one holding you back. Your dreams matter, and I want you to chase them.”

Emily’s eyes filled with tears, and she squeezed your hand tightly, as if anchoring herself to you. “I don’t want to lose you either. You’re such a huge part of my life, but I’m terrified of what this could mean for us.”

Her vulnerability struck a chord deep within you. You could see the conflict in her eyes—the desire to succeed battling against the fear of losing the one person who had always supported her.

“Maybe we can find a way to make it work,” you suggested hesitantly. “I can support you, and we can communicate more. We can figure it out together.”

“Can we?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to mess this up again.”

As the days turned into a blur of training sessions and late-night calls, you both attempted to navigate the emotional landscape of your relationship. Each time Emily shared her excitement about the national team, you felt an ache in your chest—a mix of pride and fear for the future.

One evening, you attended a small match where Emily was playing. The venue was packed, and the energy was electric. As she took the field, you felt a rush of excitement and admiration. She was in her element, pouring her heart into every play.

Yet, as you watched her from the stands, a familiar pang of insecurity settled in. Surrounded by adoring fans, you couldn’t help but wonder if she would forget about you in the whirlwind of her rising fame.

After the game, as you both stepped outside into the cool night air, the weight of unspoken words hung between you.

“Did you see the way they reacted?” she said, her eyes bright with exhilaration. “I feel alive out there!”

“I saw,” you replied, forcing a smile. “You were amazing.”

“Thank you! I really want to keep doing this,” she said, her voice filled with passion. But as she spoke about her future, you felt a sense of dread creeping in.

“Em, what happens if you get too busy? If you’re away for games, will you even have time for us?” you asked, your voice trembling.

She looked taken aback, the excitement fading from her expression. “I don’t want to think about that right now,” she admitted, her gaze dropping to the ground. “I just want to enjoy this moment.”

The confrontation hung in the air, the joy of her success now marred by the fear of losing connection. You both stood at the intersection of love and ambition, struggling to find a path forward that wouldn’t tear you apart.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension only grew as Emily’s schedule became increasingly demanding. Late-night practices, meetings with coaches, and promotional events filled her calendar, leaving little room for your relationship.

You found yourself alone more often than not, scrolling through your phone, staring at the pictures of the two of you—smiles frozen in time, memories that felt like distant echoes. You missed her laughter, her warmth, and the simple moments you once shared.

One evening, you decided to surprise her at the training facility, hoping to rekindle the spark that felt dimmed. As you entered, the sound of whistles and chatter filled the air, but it wasn’t the same. This time, she was working, focused and driven, surrounded by teammates and coaches who spoke in jargon that made your head spin.

“Hey, Em!” you called out, stepping into the field with a hopeful smile.

“Y/n!” she exclaimed, her face brightening momentarily before shifting back to business. “I’m so glad you’re here! I’m in the middle of this drill—can I catch you in a bit?”

Your heart sank at the sight of her so engrossed in her work. “Sure,” you replied, forcing a smile. But as you stood there, watching her chase her dreams, a wave of sadness washed over you.

Time slipped away as you waited, the excitement fading into uncertainty. You felt like a ghost in her world, a shadow flickering at the edges of her bright future. When she finally finished, she rushed over, her hair tousled and eyes shining.

“I’m sorry! Practice ran longer than I thought,” she said, her voice laced with guilt. “I really wanted to spend time with you.”

“I understand,” you replied, trying to sound supportive. But the worry gnawed at you. “It’s just… I miss you, Em. I miss us.”

Her expression softened, and she took your hands in hers. “I miss you too. It’s just so overwhelming right now. I want to make this work, but everything is moving so fast.”

You both knew that love and ambition could coexist, but the reality of balancing both felt daunting. The thought of losing her to her dreams terrified you, yet the idea of holding her back felt equally unbearable.

As the deadline for her decision loomed closer, the pressure mounted. You both spent nights discussing the possibilities, weighing the pros and cons of her taking the national team spot.

“I want you to have this,” you said one night as you sat on the floor of her dorm, surrounded by her football gear. “But I also don’t want to lose you in the process.”

Emily looked at you, her eyes filled with uncertainty. “What if I take this deal and it works out? But what if it doesn’t? What if I leave and realize I made a mistake?”

“That’s the risk we take,” you replied, your heart aching. “But I want you to pursue your dreams. Just know that I’ll be here, waiting for you.”

The weight of your words hung heavy in the air. It was a bittersweet acknowledgment of the reality you both faced—a love that could either flourish or falter in the face of ambition.

The day of the decision arrived, and the tension was palpable. You both knew that whatever she chose would shape the course of your relationship.

As you sat together, Emily’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the couch, her expression a mix of fear and determination. “I don’t want to let you go,” she finally said, her voice trembling.

“You don’t have to let me go,” you replied, your heart racing. “But you need to chase your dreams. You owe it to yourself.”

Tears streamed down her face as she looked at you. “I love you, Y/n. You’ve always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself.”

“And I always will,” you promised, your voice steady. “But I need you to believe in us too. We can find a way to make this work, even if it’s hard.”

Emily took a deep breath, her eyes shining with hope. “Okay. I’ll take the spot,” she said, her voice filled with resolve. “But I won’t let it come between us. I’ll make time for us, no matter what.”

In that moment, you both understood that love and ambition could coexist. It wouldn’t be easy, but with communication and trust, you could navigate the challenges together.

As you wrapped your arms around her, the weight of uncertainty lifted, replaced by a shared commitment to face whatever came next.

With newfound maturity, you both took a leap of faith, ready to embrace the messiness of love and life together. You began to communicate more openly, sharing your fears and dreams in a way you never had before.

“I want to support your career, but I also need to feel like I’m important in your life,” you said one evening as you sat on a park bench, watching the sunset.

“I promise, I’ll make time for us,” Emily replied, her hand finding yours. “I’ve learned that balance is key.”

As the weeks turned into months, you both navigated the complexities of your relationship, learning to trust one another and communicate openly. The journey of growing up was never easy, but with each step forward, you discovered that love, in all its complexities, was worth fighting for.

As graduation approached, both of you stood on the precipice of new beginnings. Emily was poised to embark on her football career while you prepared for a future that seemed brighter than ever.

“I can’t believe we made it this far,” you said one night, sitting on the roof of her dorm, the stars twinkling above like a promise of hope.

“We did it together,” she replied, leaning into you, her warmth wrapping around you like a blanket.

With a newfound understanding of love and ambition, you both faced the future with open hearts, ready to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead.

“Whatever happens, I want you by my side,” Emily said, her gaze steady and filled with determination.

“Always,” you promised, sealing it with a kiss that tasted of hope and the promise of forever.

_________________________________________________

The End.

[fayes-fics]

Mrs Bridgerton

Mrs Bridgerton Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Modern AU. Your ex-husband craves you in a way you had no idea about until one fateful call...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors dni, explicit language and thoughts, dirty talk, sexting, sex tape, masturbation, pregnancy kink, smidge of breeding kink. Mentions of marriage, divorce, pregnancy, custody, parenting, heartbreak, emotions. Bit angsty maybe? Not sure.

Word Count: 4.3k

Authors Note: This is an anon request fill from January here. (tldr summary: ex-husband Benedict can't stop thinking about you) Nonny, I changed up a couple of details of your ask; the porn he watches is your old sex tapes from when you were married. Also, he doesn't call once he was spent; he accidentally calls very much in the act ;) I hope that is okay. Guys, I have no idea what this is; sorry. Thanks to @colettebronte for checking I haven't completely lost it and @eleanor-bradstreet for the gif used above. <3

“Mrs Bridgerton!.... Mrs Bridgerton!” A teacher calls out across the playing field as she jogs towards you. It takes you a few seconds to realise she is indeed addressing you. It's been a couple of years since you went by that name—almost a ghost from the past at this point.

“Ah, actually, it’s Ms y/l/n now,” you correct as she draws closer. “I’m, well, I’m divorced from Emilia’s dad,” you explain somewhat apologetically.

“Oh, I am so very sorry! I'm new here. I just asked her if her parents were here, and she pointed you out.”

“No, no, it’s okay. It's an entirely fair assumption to make,” you placate, shielding your eyes from the sun to catch Emilia's gaze and give her the thumbs up at the end of the grassy running track.

“Well, I just need one of you to sign this permission form for the trip to the Science Museum next week,” the teacher states, thrusting a clipboard towards you.

“Oh certainly, no problem,” you assure, taking the proffered pen and signing on the dotted line she indicates. You know how excited Emilia is about that upcoming trip, even though she insists on going to the museum with you or her father at least once every few months.

“Wonderful, thank you.”

You just nod as another teacher brings them all to the starting line with a blast from their whistle, and your focus shifts entirely to cheering on your five-year-old daughter in her first school race.

-----

He knows you haven't seen him, and he doubts even Emilia has clocked him, wearing a baseball cap pulled low as he is. He deliberately keeps a low profile when you arrive. He is here to see Emilia on her first sports day. Only that. Or so he keeps telling himself.

But then he sees you, and something in his stomach knots hard. It’s been more than two years, and still, every time, it floors him. A few months after your split, he took to using Eloise as the go-between for your shared custody arrangements and has never stopped. Since then, he has not seen you in person, too cowardly to face you. His biggest mistake was letting you go.

You met in your late twenties at a party hosted by mutual friends, and that night, he knew his life would never be the same. Something about the connection was instant and electric. He had the best sex of his life, right there in a spare room of a party. Both drunk and foolish, you didn't use protection. So it was only a few weeks into your burgeoning relationship when you found yourselves staring dumbfounded at a blue and white stick that would alter your lives forever. You married quietly two months later at the town hall, with just a few family members and close friends attending, neither of you wanting a big fuss. It was a big gamble in many ways, but you were both willing to try, crazily in love and filled with a youthful optimism that can be so blinding.

All was well until parenting a newborn drove you both to exhaustion and beyond. A wedge grew between you, even as your beautiful daughter developed into the best miniature version of both of you, with his beauty and your brains. You tried to make it work. But bickering about petty things and distancing became the only constant in your dynamic. Part of him had hoped Emilia would be enough glue to hold you together, but it was too much to pin on a small child. Just after her third birthday, he watched his world crumble as you tearfully packed up your possessions and took the light from his life with you.

And now. Now it's a regret that haunts him every day. Replaying the mistakes he made over and over, the ones that meant you slipped through his fingers. Too preoccupied with his career frustrations and plagued by chronic lack of sleep to realise the damage before it was irreparable. He knows now, too late, that with a little more effort and compromise, perhaps you would still be together as a family. He certainly never stopped loving and desiring you.

So when the teacher calls out Mrs Bridgerton, his heart almost stops beating and, to his shame, there is a stirring in his jeans. God, he wishes that was still your name, so much so there is a bitter taste in his mouth as he watches you correct the teacher in an endearingly accommodating way. A large part of him wants to leap up and grab you, lift you into his arms, beg that you use the name again. His name. But he doesn't; he just lingers in melancholic reverie, recalling with perfect clarity how it felt to push the white gold band shakily onto your left hand as you recited your vows.

Then with a sharp nearby whistle blow signifying the race start, his focus is pulled back to why he is here. His little wonder, the centre of his universe. Emilia Bridgerton. The most beautiful person on the planet. 

“Go, Emilia!!” he shouts, transfixed as his little girl moves out ahead of the pack, unthinking of anything but supporting his baby girl.

-----

Your head cuts to the side, and you freeze. You would recognise that voice anywhere. And how many Emilia’s can there be in the race?

He's not looking at you; his whole focus is on the field, but you can't seem to look away. Not even to watch your precious daughter. You haven't seen your ex-husband in more than two years. Using his sister as a go-between just seems like the best way to deal with your residual guilt about leaving him. But now? One look and your insides feel like you are falling down a chasm, lungs suddenly too small for the breaths you need to take.

Time seems to slow like molasses as you observe him. He’s wearing a baseball cap, almost akin to a disguise, but you can see underneath it that profile that still makes your heart flutter. Too much, really, considering you are exes. But his beauty was never the problem; it was part of the reason you always stayed. Those soulful eyes would draw you back every time. Those eyes that now haunt you daily, the Bridgerton genes far too strong not to override all of yours. Emilia is the prettiest little female version of your ex-husband you could ever imagine, and it's both your greatest joy and your greatest pain point, living with a growing reminder of the person who still owns your heart regardless of how much you might wish otherwise.

Looking back now, leaving him was an impetuous decision made from a place of utter exhaustion, not able to see a way out of the treadmill your lives had become at that time. But pride stopped you from admitting perhaps you made a mistake, serving divorce papers before you could think too hard about it. He didn't contest and agreed to all of your terms of custody without a fight. You didn't ask for spousal support; you earned more from employment anyway, most of his income coming from his trust. You never loved him for the Bridgerton name or fortune; in fact, sometimes, it felt like you loved him in spite of it. 

And now, one look at him, and you are breathless and in a complete emotional and, yes, physical quagmire. Your body yearning for him, your traitorous brain supplying image after tumbling image of intimacy, the likes of which you have never known before or since—warm bodies wrapped around each other in ecstasy, that velvet voice pleading with you to come with him, for him, always so eager. It makes your chest heave so hard you have to look away to regain composure, doing so just in time for the universe to seemingly return to normal speed, as you watch Emilia cross the line, victorious in her first-ever race. 

You cannot help it; you leap up and cheer too. And she looks over, beaming and jumping up and down. Running towards you and throwing herself into your arms as you kneel with a huge grin.

“Mummy mummy mummy!!” she peals excitedly, her breath gusting hard into your ear. “I did it! I won!”

“I know; well done!” you exclaim, rocking her happily in your arms. “You did wonderfully!!!”

“Did I see Daddy?” she asks, craning over your shoulder. You tense and swivel yourself to follow her eye line, but where he was standing just moments ago, there is now just an empty patch of grass.

“Oh, I don't think so, my love; it was probably someone else’s daddy who looks similar,” you suggest, the lie feeling odd on your tongue, It's obvious he doesn't want to be seen, and a part of you is grateful to avoid an awkward meeting. Emilia is still scanning the crowd, unconvinced by your assertion. “How about an ice cream from the van over there?” you offer cheerily, wanting to distract her from looking too hard for him.

“Okay!” she chimes happily, squirrelling a warm little hand into yours and pulling you towards the pedestrian gate. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you spy a navy blue Jaguar pulling out of the other gate and know without a doubt it was him.

-----

He couldn't do it. He thought he could, but he feels the weight of your stare and has to leave. The minute Emilia crosses the line, he gives a little victory punch and takes off. Not able to face you. So much of him wants to, but the gutless part of him apparently resides in his leg muscles. Before he knows it, he is in his car and pulling out onto the West London streets, not daring to look back. It's not his day to pick up Emilia; that's still two days away. He would not want you angry for overstepping the agreement you have in place.

As he pulls up at a traffic light, his phone pings a match on the dating app Anthony bullied him into downloading last week. The temptation to fling his phone right out the window is strong. The idea of being with someone else, especially after the tumult of seeing you today, just feels wrong. 

The only person he has slept with since your divorce was the second biggest mistake of his life. Someone he met at a bar celebrating Colin’s last birthday after too many whiskeys. A close enough facsimile to you that, through the haze of alcohol, he let himself be seduced. The lizard part of his brain somehow convinced it was you, even as she rode him in a way that chafed. Nothing like the way you moved, positively undulated, on his cock. Regret clung to his skin, the fug of hangover already kicking in as he watched her wordlessly re-dress and leave almost immediately, never exchanging numbers. He never saw her again. The fact he called your name as he came was probably the majority of the problem.

The only thing that stops him from flinging the phone is all the history it contains. Pictures of Emilia growing up from a tiny infant to now. But also his text exchanges with you, that increasingly he finds himself scrolling back through on self-indulgent nights, back to when things were good, and you would send each other little notes of love interspersed with sexting that; even now, he can barely read without getting hard. Unable to resist, as he waits for the light to go green, a dozen or more quick thumb flicks upwards on the thread for your previous number, and he finds some of his guilty pleasures.

8 March, 3:25 pm

Y/N: You had better plough me over the kitchen table when you get home xoxox

4 April, 5:02 pm

BB: Tough work day, need you, babe

Y/N: How’s this, daddy? 

Y/N: [photo of your naked glowing, slightly rounded pregnant body]

BB: Fucking helllllll, I am one lucky man

Y/N: Come home, fuck me, daddy

BB: You need to stop calling me that…

Y/N: Why? I am literally pregnant with your child.

BB: Yeah, and that’s why it's so wrong…

Y/N: Just get here, pls. I am so fucking wet….

He is pinch-zooming on the photo, head tilted, his tongue peeking out the corner of his mouth… when a car horn makes him jump, the phone slipping from his grip and falling onto his emergent hard-on. 

The traffic light has turned green. 

With an apologetic nod in the rearview mirror, he drives off, shaking his head, knowing it’s probably very wrong to be looking at pictures of you, his ex-wife, and wanting to fuck you so bad that his foot leans heavily on the accelerator. His blood pumping hard, already knowing he will be taking himself in hand the minute he gets to his place.

-----

Emilia is happily smushing the cone of her 99 ice cream in her little fist as you walk the few streets to your sister's place, where you left your car earlier. She has kindly agreed to let Emilia stay tonight and have a sleepover with her cousins. 

Later, you have your first date since your divorce, and you’ll probably need the rest of the late afternoon to psych yourself up enough to go. You've already cried off so many matchmaking attempts that you had to say yes eventually, just to stop the incessant badgering from all angles. Strangely, this one is Eloise’s doing, and you are still slightly weirded out that your ex-husband’s sister is engineering your first date in more than seven years.

Waving goodbye a few minutes later, you slip into your car and sit for a few deep calming inhales, trying not to think of how much Benedict stole your breath earlier. Some part of you thinks maybe you just imagined him there, a fevered mirage, your subconscious telling you to cancel this stupid date idea and stay home with your two best friends, Ben and Jerry. But then Ameila seemed to think he was there too, and honestly, it feels like you don't know what to do about anything anymore. 

-----

He wastes no time, flinging aside the cap, tossing his car keys onto the hallway table and sprinting upstairs to his bedroom, only pausing to insert his noise-cancelling earbuds and discard his clothing.

He is already leaking a little when he throws himself onto the bed and fists his cock with a groan. His other hand is hovering over the play button on the video he definitely knows he shouldn't be watching, hidden in a nondescript folder.

Your soft giggle tickles his eardrums as the video jolts to life. It's one he shot of you on his phone on your honeymoon—it’s one of his favourites lately.

“Bennnnn,” your voice a teasing murmur as the screen fills with a glimpse of your breasts, his hand trying to take a sweeping shot of your body as you writhe underneath him, both of you buried in a soft glow under a tent of sheets wrapped around your bodies.

His own younger self chuckles loud in his ears, behind the camera as he is, both of your breaths loud as the movement becomes more pronounced.

This is him fucking you and filming it. The camera pans down, and there, almost too tough to see in the grainy low light, is his cock surging into you; the shot is never still enough to see in full detail.

Somehow the lack of clarity makes it more of a turn-on. Benedict whines low as his hand moves in a firm motion, jerking hard, losing himself in reminiscence of what it is like to be buried inside you, your scent, younger you panting hard, pleading quietly for him.

His hand speeds up, and he gasps as the video grows more urgent, the noises so loud right in his ear. He can hear the delicious sound of your wet cunt around his shaft, and it's like a sense memory, that viscous heated cling he can never forget.  

“Ben, oh god Ben, you are so good, fuck me harder,” younger you moans loudly on the video, and both Benedicts, the old and new, couldn't resist that siren call.

“Y/n, oh god, give me your all, y/n,” Benedict growls, screwing his eyes shut, just relying on the auditory experience of the video now. 

But not realising with his slurred speech; it's just given his phone a command…

-----

You are driving towards your place when your hands-free car display lights up with the last name you expect.

Benedict.

Your stomach plunges. Just like earlier when you found yourself staring at him and reimagining so many things you know you shouldn't. You reach over and click the little green button to connect the call, heart in your mouth.

“Ben?” you say his name softly, almost timid. Worried about what it might mean after that strange non-encounter less than an hour ago.

The noise that greets you makes every hair stand on end. It's a throaty groan. He seems to hiss your name, and all you do is frown as your car speakers vibrate with the sound.

“Ben, are you okay?” you check.

“Oh god, I am more than okay, baby,” he growls, and every inch of your body is rioting. “Just please, please don't stop, fuck you feel so good. So tight and hot. I want to live inside you,” the words panted, desperate.

Your foot slips hard on the pedal, and you almost crash into a damn tree. 

-----

Your voice sounds different in his ear, and there is a background hum that wasn't there before, but he is so close to something so intoxicating he doesn't think to open his eyes and check the video.

“Talk to me,” he pleads low, knowing you on the video won't respond but somehow still wanting to talk to you regardless, “tell me how you feel.”

There is silence and then a slight shaky exhale. 

“Ben.”

“Yes, yes, yes, say my name,” he pleads, leaking over his own knuckle as his hand becomes a frenzy on his cock.

-----

You pull over, quaking. There is only one reason he uses that tone. That's his bedroom voice, and fuck if it doesn't make you as weak now as it did back then. You can only assume his phone has accidentally dialled you while he is what? Masturbating? You flush so hotly at the very thought, and yet you can’t school what you say next. Your treacherous libido taking command of your lips.

“Are you touching yourself for me, Ben?” you breathe, and your clothing suddenly feels too tight, too hot.

Your speakers vibrate your seat as he groans loud and lewdly, and it's a beeline straight for your clit, now throbbing insistently against your car seat.

“Yes baby,” he moans and now, in the background, you can hear it, a slight slapping sound, his cock passing through his fist. 

Your pussy clenches instinctually, and you feel a heavy pull, a depth charge of lust. Your lips tingle with the thought of kissing him, running your mouth over his body, wrapping around that cock you remember so well.

“I want you to come for me, Ben,” you plead, a hand straying down between your thighs, scarcely believing what is happening, what you are doing so brazen, parked up on the street mid-afternoon on a Wednesday.

“I will; oh god, I'm going to come so hard,” he snarls. “Do you want it inside you?”

Your fingers glance your clit over your yoga pants, and the heat is overwhelming. “Yes, Ben,” you pant, “inside me, give it to me, give me more of your beautiful babies.”

What you are saying is taboo. And so truthful you don't think to censor it. You would bear as many children as he wants to fuck into you. Still, even now.

“But you are already pregnant with my baby darling,” his voice taking on a softer edge, more wistful, “and you look so, so beautiful.”

You freeze.

“Benedict?” you say quietly.

“Yes, my love,” he purrs.

“Who do you think you are speaking to?” your ask is awkward, screwing your eyes shut, your hand moving away from the apex of your thighs. Suddenly mortified, perhaps it's not you that he thinks he is speaking to after all. Oh shit, did he get someone else pregnant? The panicked bile rises until he sighs the following words.

“Y/n, my wife, my life. God, I miss you so much. I know this must be a fever dream; I know we didn't talk like this in the video, but fuck if it doesn't sound so real,” he ends so wistfully.

“What video?” your question is slow, a weird weight on your chest that is your heart pounding out of control.

“Our honeymoon, darling,” he moans, and you can hear he is still masturbating, although slower-paced now. “When you let me video us fucking. I watch it so much these days that I'm surprised it's not worn out. And yet I can't not; every time I fuck my fist, it's to you.”

“You watch us? Every time you…?” your hand clutching your chest now.

“Yes, my love. I miss you so so much. I should never have let you go. You are my angel, the love of my life, the mother of my child and the only person I ever, ever want to fuck.”

The confession knocks your whole world off its axis. And you crave him. The feeling is so utterly all-consuming you struggle to take your next breath. You have to go to him. You have to see him. It's not even a choice not to. Every fibre of your being needs him.

“Ben,” you murmur, “don't come for me yet; I want to fuck you.”

“You do?” the hope in that gasp makes you lightheaded.

“Yes,” you breathe, “I miss your cock so much.”

You scramble to throw the car into gear and pull out into traffic. You are about a minute's drive away or less if he is home. Something in your movements so very urgent.

“Tell me what you are doing,” you whisper, trying your best to pitch the ask just the right level of seductive as you race down the road, turning into his street.

“I’m fucking my fist,” he moans, “but I wish it were you, my love.”

“I'm almost there,” you pant, pulling into his driveway with almost a squeal of tyres. You grab your phone and jump out of your car, crushing the handset to your ear as you run up to his front door and punch in a code, hoping it's still the one he uses. The crest of victory is palpable as the lock beeps and relents, the door popping open.

“Keep stroking yourself gently,” you order as you close the door and start to disrobe as you bound up the stairs.

“Y/n…” his voice is suddenly tremulant “this…. This isn't a dream, is it?”

“No, Ben, it's not,” you breathe, and you are down to your underwear as you skid into his bedroom, panting.

His eyes are wide with shock as you stride across the room, his cock still in hand and utterly naked; he looks just as delicious as the day you married him.

“Hello, Mr Bridgerton,” you purr.

“Y/n,” he stutters, and it's everything—surprise, desire, hope, relief, yearning and ardent.

“Call me Mrs Bridgerton,” you shoot back, and the responding noise he makes is so utterly feral you almost orgasm without so much as touching him.

-----

Eight months later

“Emilia, not there,” Benedict chuckles good-naturedly.

“Then where daddy?” her pout turns epic as she hands the offending item to him. “You do it!” she huffs.

“Okay, hold still,” he laughs and slides the small tiara into her hair. “See? Just perfect,” he opines, dropping a kiss onto her chestnut tresses.

“I look like a princess!” Emilia exclaims proudly, twisting to look into the mirror.

“Yes, you do,” Benedict concurs. “A pretty princess bridesmaid.”

“The prettiest,” you agree from the doorway, and both heads turn around and greet you with mouths that gape open.

“Oh, Mummy, you look like a real princess!” Emilia gasps, running towards you and giving you a quick hug before skipping out of the room gleefully as her grandmother Violet calls her name from downstairs.

“You look breathtaking,” his tone full of wonderment as he slowly gets to his feet, his eyes never leaving you. “But isn't it bad luck for me to see you like this?” he adds with a flash of concern.

You move towards him, and him towards you, drawn together. “I think we’ve had all the bad luck we are going to have,” you smirk, very much enjoying the sight of him in a sharp, custom-tailored suit. “At least I hope so, seeing as we have this thing to deal with,” you raise an eyebrow, pointing to your five-month bump.

“Thing? Darling, I thought we agreed; his name is Henry,” he sighs in mock indignation, his large hands skating around the swell of your belly, his lips warm on your temple.

“When did I agree to that name?” you frown amiably.

“Last night,” he responds silkily, right into your ear now.

“Oh no, you can’t possibly hold me to that,” you decry. “Anything said when inside me is null and void, Mr Bridgerton; you know I can barely remember my own name at that point.”

His rich chuckle vibrates against your whole body. “Well, let me remind you….”

“I’m listening,” you sigh, eyes closing as you sway into his hot neck kisses.

“It's Mrs Bridgerton,” he rumbles. “Or it will be again in about an hour.”

“I can't wait”, you whisper. “Say it again.”

“Mrs Bridgerton,” A dark, slow tease. 

You are almost late for your own (second) wedding just downstairs.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus

[lialuvsaven]

Pairing: Aventurine x Reader

Tags: 2.3k word vomit, fluff , you two celebrate New years together (even tho it's like, Halloween rn lol) I very very loosely referenced omikuji here, because the idea of drawing fortune slips with Mr luck is very tempting to me.

It is the evening of the first day of the trailblaze year when you and Aventurine make your way into the New Year fair in Outerland, walking hand in hand as you pull him along whatever catches your fancy.

Today's events unfolded as a result of a previous conversation you shared with Aventurine a couple of months back. According to you, Qlipoth may have saved the cosmos, but one area where THEY fell short was in establishing a reliable calendar system. Seriously, how come Amber eras are this long? You had a feeling that the IPC deliberately promoted the amber era calendar system to avoid granting too many holidays to their employees.

However, when you presented this "absurd" idea to Aventurine, he laughed at you. "Qlipoth has bigger priorities than worrying about the average salarymen at the IPC taking a day off," he remarked, thoroughly amused. And while you do agree with him, Amber era is still a crazy system to you. It doesn't even have a fixed length, for Aeon's sake!!

Honestly, you much preferred the trailblaze calendar system. It was concise, precise and dare you say— better suited for short-lived species. Your grandmother did not live one complete amber era, but she did live 90 trailblaze years. You'd definitely prefer to speak of her as a 90 years old rather than, well, 1.5 amber era old.

(Or perhaps, you're just accustomed to following the trailblaze calendar like everyone else on your home planet. You still thank every stars that Akivilli decided to visit your planet.)

Regardless of your efforts, you couldn't get your completely logical argument through your boyfriend. Maybe the next step is to create a holographic presentation to demonstrate how the Amber era is an irrational and unsuitable system. But no matter, you can save this debate for another time. Aventurine will still be here, as will your personal conflict with THEM. What's really important is convincing your boyfriend to celebrate the upcoming New Year (trailblaze calendar) with you. You are determined to make him take a day off for that, no matter what. (The idea of enjoying a festival with Aventurine is very appealing.)

Fortunately, he has always been rather weak to you.

And so, You find yourself on a planet you've never been to before, accompanied by your boyfriend who's on the same boat, simply because it's closer than your home planet, and they observe New Year's in a similar way to your customs. you're always a little nervous about visiting new planets, but luckily your boyfriend is reliable enough for you to not have to worry about anything.

Dressed in the customary attire of Outerland, you and your partner stroll hand in hand through the bustling crowd, filled with laughter and conversation, making it, in your opinion, one of the most enjoyable experiences you've shared with Aventurine in at least a year (or, 0.00416 Amber Eras).

....See, Amber era is faaaaaar less romantic. It's evident that Qlipoth has little regard for romance (THEY have none whatsoever.)

The majority of the stalls feature wooden structures adorned with vibrant fabrics and intricate patterns, creating a lively and colorful atmosphere. The scent of the crisp night air mingles with the aromas of spices and grilled foods from the various shops, blending into one harmonious aroma. This scent is accompanied by the lively chatter, laughter, bargaining, and sporadic calls of Outerland names, presumably from their friends and family. Aventurine feels incredibly out of place in this vibrant setting, and he would probably feel even more— if it weren't for your firm grip on his hand. Amidst the lively atmosphere full of love and warmth, he cannot help but hold on to your hand tightly, lest he's forced to confront the depths of his loneliness.

You've already taken him to experience every game at the fair (he's won them all, and you've lost half of them), try a variety of sweet and savory foods (he wonders who you'd have given your half-eaten grilled squid to if he hadn't been there), and choose colorful (and silly) masks to wear together (he rather likes these— people won't recognize him by his eyes this way. For now.)

At the end of the seemingly never-ending line of stalls, right next to the open field, stands a rather unique-looking stall. Your eyes immediately light up in newfound curiousity, tugging him by the cuffs oh his shirt along (he's more focused on switching to lace his fingers with yours to properly look at where you're taking him.)

The stall is bright and lacks the smell of roasted nuts or alcohol, being far away from the food section. Instead of displaying jewelry, clothing, or anything else, the only items on the counter are two similar cylindrical black boxes. Each box has a small hole, indicating that this is likely some sort of lottery device. The shopkeeper greets the two of you with a smile, and Aventurine notices the wooden boxes numbered up to a hundred behind him.

Apparently, this is an Izumo tradition, where people draw lots to learn about their luck for the next year. Aventurine doesn't need a paper slip to tell him how his luck will be next year, he can somewhat predict it.

Within the next twelve trailblaze months, he'll embark on at least two challenging missions, frequent your new favorite sightseeing spot until you're both tired of it, get paired with Ratio in a few missions again, take a trip to your home planet just because you missed your friends (and he'll miss you if you're gone too long), attempt to get Topaz investing in another loss project just for amusement (it's worked twice so far), spend most nights hugging you to sleep, earn at least 5 trillion credits, and fall in love with you more (because it seems ∞ is not the end, not when it comes to his love for you. And he's now got solid proof of why infinity is expandable. Hilbert's infinite hotel paradox makes much more sense now.)

(Cheesy, you'd say. And he'd agree, had it not been him being genuine)

You turn to face Aventurine, adorning a smile on your face. Aventurine recognizes that look, those faux pleading eyes you make when you want him to do something with you. (He doesn't quite understand the purpose because he'd indulge you even without it, but you look cute so he's more than fine with it.)

Your eyes shine, failing the puppy eyes look you're trying so hard to pull off. "Aventurine, can we also check our fortune?" He could have mentioned that he doesn't believe in fortune telling and therefore doesn't see it as worthwhile, but—

It's you. So naturally, he agrees.

You each grab one of the two cylindrical wooden boxes and give them a shake. No, Aventurine gives it a shake, while you shake yours like your life depends on it.

Aventurine laughs before quipping, "I don't think shaking it harder is going to make your draw better, love."

Your shoot him a pout, before shaking the box harder "I know, but i don't care"

If you hadn't been so focused on shaking the wooden box, you would have noticed the affectionate smile on Aventurine's face. Nevertheless, his fondness is evident in his tone when he says, "I really hope this works in your favor."

(You feel a silly, affectionate grin spread across your face, and warmth envelops you.)

Finally, both of you draw a stick and hand it to the storekeeper. He matches the numbers and retrieves a paper slip for each of you. You thank him before leaving to find a quieter spot to check your luck.

Aventurine expects to get good luck, so he's not surprised when the slip reveals 「The highest, excellent fortune」 The subsequent description contains several amusing sentences about what he can expect this year. Phrases like "your wish will be fulfilled", "the person you want to meet the most will come meet you" and "never change your mindset" elicit a slight chuckle from him. He doesn't bother finishing the entire slip because it doesn't apply to him either way.

Wish fulfilled? Fulfilling his wish would signify the end of his luck, and as far as he knows, dead people can't come back to life.

Nevertheless, he proudly displays his slip in front of your eyes, blocking your view of your own slip. You neatly tuck yours away and then glance at his with widened eyes before responding in a deadpan tone, "Why am I even surprised?" The exaggerated monotone voice you're using right now is the funniest thing Aventurine has encountered all day.

"Surprise no surprise~ I told you, I didn't need a paper slip to tell me I'll already have good luck this year"

You huff, folding your arms. "Yeah, right. Good for you, Mr. Lucky," you say, and Aventurine responds with a playful wink.

"What about you? Did all that shaking pay off for you?"

At that, You glance at him and offer a smile, but aventurine is perceptive; he notices the brief hesitation before your smile.

He's known you long enough to know when you're trying to hide something.

"Let me see the slip," he requests, and you uncomfortably avert your gaze. Aventurine appreciates how you never lie to him, but he wishes that meant you were always forthcoming instead of becoming completely silent whenever a situation makes you want to lie. He tries again, and you hesitantly place the little piece of folded paper in his hand.

「Bad fortune」

Even if you attempt to get along with others, it won't succeed.

Try to avoid trouble, as you may end up in peril.

Negative occurrences will happen repeatedly.

*Your desires will not be fulfilled. *Requests you make of others will most likely be denied. *Your future looks bleak, and the bright moon of fortune is obscured by dark clouds.

You try to awkwardly laugh to placate his grim expression. "Come on, it's just a little slip! Neither of us believes this seriously."

However, Aventurine is not willing to take any chances. He'd have laughed it off if he were the one to get bad luck, but it's you. It's you, so he feels somewhat resentful towards the shopkeeper for even putting a bad luck slip there in the first place.

"I won't allow any of that to happen to you," he says firmly, and you blink in surprise before bursting into laughter.

"Haha! You're so adorable! Thank you, I feel very reassured now."

You smile at him, but Aventurine knows you better than you think. Although your spirits may have been lifted for now, you're bound to remember this little piece of paper every time something goes wrong for you in the next year, even if you don't realize it yet. And not like he's particularly happy about this, either.

"Let's swap," he says— no, declares, and hands you his slip. "I have enough luck to handle whatever this slip predicts for me, so you can take it."

"W-what?"

"You can take it. My good luck, and all that comes with it."

Your heart flutters foolishly at that, and a blush inevitably spreads across your face despite the frown on your face. Though Aventurine can't see the blush under the colorful lighting, the look in your eyes is enough for his eyes to light up with delight. But that momentary joy is taken away from him when you try to pull your (now his) slip away from him.

"No- no!! You can't take this!!"

"Why not?"

"Because you're the one who needs it more???" You exclaim, like he's saying the most ridiculous thing ever.

Aventurine scoffs, "You didn't just say that to me. You know my luck never fails me"

"Maybe so," you say as your gaze shifts from his face to his hands, and you gently intertwine your fingers with his. (Aventurine wonders what it would be like to have you do this with him forever.)

"But a bad day for me insinuates like, getting to work late or spilling my drink. But a bad day for you….the stakes are much higher, and I don't want to take that risk. Plus, I'm sure your good fortune will rub on me enough to soften whatever blows life throws at me!"

Ah. You really have a way of making yourself even more lovable, don't you? Aventurine's heart tightens in his chest, and briefly drifts into a daydream, imagining how he would have loved to share today's events with his late sister.

("Can you believe it?" He'd tell his sister, "they told me that my luck would improve theirs too, just like you.")

(His sister would have laughed in response, and advised him how he needs to stop telling her about every little thing you do. But she'd be happy too, he knows she would.)

Aventurine's daydream is interrupted as your fingers attempt to open his clenched fist to retrieve the slip. He quickly hides his fist behind his back and gives you a charming smile. "No matter how hard you try, I will never, and I mean never, let you have this,"

After several more failed attempts, you give up. "Alright," you reluctantly concede. "Since you're willing to bear my share of misfortune, let me express my gratitude properly." Aventurine blinks, before he's met with your intense eyes. "Aventurine, thank you for being so kind to me," you say, almost causing him to look away, anything to avoid seeing that sincere and fond expression directed at him.

(He'd gladly take away all your sufferings so long as you continue to smile.)

But your earnest gratitude needs to be met with a proper response, so he smiles and ruffles your hair. "Think I'm gonna need a little more than a thank you." You huff, but pull him closer to your lips.

He had never thought that cotton candy was the sweetest thing in the world until he tasted them on your lips.

[girlkisser13]

snow on the beach

"i’ve never seen someone lit from within" "blurring out my periphery" "my smile is like i won a contest" "and to hide that would be so dishonest"

pairings: colin bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings/tags: mostly angst. childhood best friends to lovers.

summary: after one of his many travels, colin comes back home to see that you are engaged to someone else.

in the sun-dappled gardens of aubrey hall, colin bridgerton and miss y/n y/l/n had spent their childhood years in innocent joy. their laughter had filled the air as they climbed trees, chased butterflies, and whispered secrets beneath the ancient oaks. yet, as the years progressed, those simple affections deepened into something far more profound.

as the two of you grew older, your feelings for him began to shift in subtle yet profound ways. one evening, on the eve of colin’s departure for yet another of his travels, you found herself alone with him in your favorite garden alcove. the moonlight cast a silvery glow over the scene, illuminating the quiet turmoil in your heart. you could not let him leave without confessing the emotions that had burgeoned within you for so long.

“colin,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “before you leave, there is something i must tell you.”

he turned to her, his expression one of curiosity and mild apprehension. “what is it, y/n?”

drawing a deep breath, you continued, “i have long cherished our friendship, but of late, my feelings have deepened. i love you, colin. more than a friend, more than anything. i needed you to know before you go.”

for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. colin’s eyes widened, but he said nothing. the silence stretched on, each heartbeat echoing like thunder in your ears. finally, he turned away, his thoughts a whirlwind you could not fathom.

“y/n, i…” he faltered, unable to find the words.

disheartened, you nodded, forcing a brave smile. “safe travels, colin,” you whispered before walking away, your heart aching with the weight of unspoken words.

the months passed slowly. you threw yourself into the demands of the upcoming season, but your heart remained shadowed by colin’s silence. summer brought with it a suitor who showed a keen interest in you. with your family’s financial situation growing precarious, his attention was both a blessing and a burden.

your family estate, once thriving, had fallen on hard times. your father’s investments had failed, and the pressure to secure a suitable match was immense. the suitor’s wealth and status seemed like the perfect solution. he was kind, attentive, and clearly smitten with you. but your heart belonged to another, a man who had not spoken a word since your heartfelt confession.

when colin returned to london, he found you distant and reserved, a stark contrast to the spirited girl he remembered. the danbury ball was always a grand affair as the first ball of the season, but colin’s heart sank as he watched you dance with a lord, your engagement now the talk of the ton. his heart twisted in anguish as he saw the resigned look in your eyes, the sparkle that had once been there now dimmed.

unable to bear it any longer, colin interrupted your dance, his eyes blazing with determination. “may i have this dance, miss y/l/n?” he asked, though it was more a demand than a request.

the man across from you frowned. "we are in the midst of a dance, bridgerton."

colin's gaze did not waver. "i was addressing miss y/l/n, not you."

taken aback, you hesitated before nodding reluctantly. "very well, mr. bridgerton."

as the two of you began to waltz, colin leaned in, his voice urgent. "y/n, you cannot marry him."

your eyes flashed with anger. "and why not, colin? my family's funds are dwindling. i have no other choice."

colin's grip tightened on your waist, his voice desperate. "he is not right for you, y/n. he does not deserve you."

you pulled away slightly, your expression one of deep hurt. "and who, pray tell, is right for me? who deserves me?"

he opened his mouth but said nothing, the silence spoke volumes. your eyes filled with tears of frustration. "it is too late, colin. i have no choice. my family’s funds have gone down, and i must secure my family's future."

"if it is your family's funds and reputation you are concerned about, marry me," colin implored. "i have far more wealth than that man you have chosen to marry."

you laughed bitterly. "no, colin. i will not enter into a loveless marriage. you do not love me."

"and you love him?" colin questioned.

"i believe i can grow to love him in time," you declared.

"that is not real love," colin protested.

"do not speak to me of "real love," colin!" you yelled, your voice breaking with emotion. you turned and fled into the garden of the danbury estate, your heart a storm of conflicting emotions.

"y/n, wait," colin called, following you into the night. he caught you by the hand, his voice choked with emotion. "i was a fool, a coward. i did not know how to respond, but i have never stopped thinking of you. please, forgive me."

you whirled around, your eyes blazing with anger and hurt. "you dare to say this now? after i bared my heart to you and you left me without a word? you are ruining my chance to save my family!"

desperation gave him courage. he cupped your face in his hands, his voice a fervent plea. "y/n, i love you. i always have. please, do not let this be the end."

you pulled away from him, walking further into the garden, "you had your chance, colin. you left me with nothing but silence."

he caught your hand once more, his heart pounding against his ribcage. "y/n, i have been away for far too long, and in that time, i have come to realize something of great importance. when we were younger, i made a promise to you— a promise that i would never be dishonest with you."

you turned towards him, your gaze remaining steady. your arms were crossed protectively over your chest, a subtle barrier against the world.

colin took a step forward, his eyes earnest. "it is with that promise in mind that i must confess something i have hidden for far too long. y/n, i have never met anyone so filled with light as you are. your presence brightens every room and every moment. your smile... it is as if you have won a contest, and the prize is the joy you bring to those around you. i love you, deeply and truly."

your guarded demeanor softened slightly, a crack forming in the fortress around your heart.

a heavy silence followed his confession. your lips parted slightly, but no words emerged. your posture remained rigid, a shield against the vulnerability you surely felt.

his heart ached at the sight of your guarded stance. "y/n," he said gently, "please, let me show you what i cannot express merely in words."

before you could respond, he kissed you, pouring all his love and regret into that single, searing kiss. for a moment, you resisted, but then you melted into his embrace, the intensity of your shared emotions overwhelming any lingering doubt.

when the two of you finally broke apart, your eyes were filled with tears, but also with a glimmer of hope. "colin, you hurt me deeply," you whispered. "but i cannot deny my heart."

he held you close, his voice a whisper against your ear. "y/n, i will spend my days proving to you that my love is true. please just give me the chance."

you looked up at him, "colin, i... i have waited so long for you to say these words. i feared i would never hear them."

he gently brushed a tear from your cheek. "i am sorry for the pain my silence caused you, but i am here now, and i will not leave again."

your arms slowly encircled him, your embrace warm and full of the affection you had long harbored. "and i believe you, colin. i truly do."

with a final, lingering kiss under the starlit sky, you and colin had found your way back to each other, your love rekindled and stronger for the trials it had endured.

[gracieheartspedro]

I Can See You

fem!reader x dbf!joel miller

Hi friends! It's been awhile (:

I am back to writing! This time, I'm planning on having many parts to this story. It's a DBF Joel Miller story, which I love to read, which means I had to write it, right?

I wrote this with no Y/N, instead each character gives her a nickname/pet name.

So here's Part 1, I really hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: DBF! Joel, age gap-ish (reader is 25, Joel is 39), eventual smut, joel being a little bit of a perv, reader not having a filter, alcohol consumption

“Mornin’,” His Southern accent was even deeper than usual. My head peaks up from behind my computer, noticing his very tired eyes. The bags under his eyes still somehow did him justice. 

“Mornin’ Joel,” I mutter before taking a sip of my coffee. I watch as he finds his way towards my bosses office. He was only my boss at work, but at home he was just Dad. 

I watch his ass move in his jeans, shamelessly. 

Finding your coworker hot is one thing, it’s another when it’s also your dad’s friend and he was about 20 years older than you. 

I’ve thought Joel Miller was quite the looker since I was about 18. I had just started working for my dad. I was mainly just scheduling and doing work orders. Joel took me out to a work site one day, on my father’s request. He wanted me to get know some of the people who would be scheduling work from us. I got to sit around with the property manager of an apartment complex in a tight black dress in the dead of summer, watching guys replace windows. While outside that day, Joel worked alongside some of the laborers, his tanned skin and shaggy dark hair glistening with sweat. Something about him doing manual labor turned me on. Something awoke in me that day, and ever since then, I thirst over him in silence. 

I catch myself looking a bit too long, quickly averting my eyes to my computer screen. I act like I am typing something, glancing over to Joel and my dad walking out of his office together. They are discussing another project that Joel was overseeing that would keep him very busy in the upcoming months. 

“My girl here will be starting back at college in the fall, so she will only be part time for awhile,” My dad says, drawing attention to me. 

“Oh really, where ya going?” 

I blank out completely for a moment.

“UT Austin,” I finally answer.

“Smart girl, you living on campus?”

“Nope, just getting my master’s in Engineering so living from home makes the most sense.”

Joel shakes his head, “Master’s. Didn’t you just graduate high school?”

“I’m 25, Joel.”

His eyes scan me for a moment, realizing I’m much older than he remembers. 

“Ha,” He grumbles, “Time flies huh, Steve?”

“Sure does, you just wait for that Sarah of yours is off to college,” My dad laughs, slapping Joel’s shoulder. I wince, realizing again he has a young daughter. It wasn’t ideal, to say the least. 

“We got about 5 years on that,” Joel says, his eyes returning to mine, “Well it’ll be nice havin’ you around during our busy season.”

“Happy to help,” I reply, not really meaning it. 

“Hey, Joel, you and Sarah making an appearance at our BBQ this weekend? We invited the whole neighborhood and I can’t remember if you told me you’d be there.”

His eyes are still on me, “Yeah, I’ll be there,” his eyes return to my dad’s, “Just me and Tommy though, Sarah is goin’ over to a friend’s house.”

“Can’t wait!” My dad cheers, “Baby girl, can you make sure my schedule is cleared Friday evening so I don’t have to worry about when I can get the meat?”

“Of course, dad,” I grit my teeth, “I’m on it.”

-

“Hey baby girl, can you go grab me some extra plates?” 

My dad was over the top with his BBQs to say the very least. The whole neighborhood was in on it. Steaks, burgers, hot dogs, chicken, the whole thing. I spent all morning getting the huge backyard and cabana ready for all our visitors. We usually had someone come over to do all the setting up, but Dad made sure to remind me that I was living rent free and being paid on his payroll, so setting up was the least I could do. 

People littered the pool and backyard. I weave between people, giving smiles and welcomes where I could.

I walk in to the kitchen, the cold AC air hitting my bare arms. Luckily, I was wearing shorts over my bikini shorts, or else the goose bumps would be up and down my legs, too. I begin searching the cabinets for the large serving plates you always used for big gatherings. Leaning down, my triangle bikini top almost lets my boobs loose. I sit up straight, messing with the knots on my back. I knew tightening it could only help so much.

“Need help?” I almost jump out of my skin. I turn quickly, spotting Joel Miller standing in the kitchen with me.

“Shit, you fucking scared me,” I breathe loudly, patting my chest to make my heart stop racing, “I think I can get it.”

“Mhm,” He sticks a tooth pick between his teeth, “Lemme help, girl.”

God he was so fine. I hated myself for having a crush on him. But the domestic and simple gray t-shirt that hugged his arms so well and the blue jeans? I simply could not resist staring. 

No chance in hell. But I got to look at him every day and imagine it. 

I turn on my heels, holding the ties out to him so he could tie them. 

“I need them tighter,” I mutter, “Don’t want these puppies falling out in front of the Adlers.”

“Don’t want to excite Mr. Adler too much, he may have himself a heart attack.”

I smile to myself, biting my lip. He ties it, his fingers grazing my bare back slightly. 

“All good now, girl,” I turn to face him, looking up at him through my eyelashes, “Now what were you lookin’ for?”

“Serving plates,” I explain, “Dad is finishing up those steaks, needs more space.”

“Well let’s get ‘em and head out to all the fun,” He says, ducking down to the cabinet I was looking in originally. He finds them, handing them up to me. He looks so good looking up at me from this angle. 

“You want to grab us some beers,” I suggest, “I’ll meet you out there?”

“Your dad runnin’ low?”

“Probably, so grab three.”

–

“So, you going to be here all summer?”

I had no interest in talking to Tommy, but he was keeping me from toeing the line with Joel in my drunken state, so here I am. I sit in my lounger chair, wanting so bad to take off my jean shorts. I knew if I did, Tommy would take it as I’m making a pass, so I sweat extra. 

“I’m starting college in August, so yeah I’ll be around the office and staying home.”

He smiles, “Good to hear, love seeing you around.”

I smile back faking a cheery laugh, “Thanks, Tommy… care to grab me another beer?”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

I watch him walk away before searching the crowd for Joel. I spot him across the yard, talking to one of the newer neighbors. A single mom who moved in two months ago. My dad kept joking the other night that he’d be making her my stepmom, which only made me gag. She was beautiful, younger than my dad, but just about Joel’s age. 

A pang of jealousy rises within me. 

Joel finally catches my wandering eyes. He smiles gently, giving me a nod.

“Here, darling,” Tommy says sweetly, “Need anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” Your brother, “Can you help me with something?”

“Sure, ‘s up?”

I sit up, leaning over making my boobs hang right in his eye line. 

If I couldn’t keep one Miller’s attention, maybe I could snag second best. My beer filled brain thinks about how they are cut from the same cloth, so they both are probably good at this. 

“Do you want to help me change a lightbulb?”

He raises his eyebrows, “I guess, where at?”

I smirk, “My bedroom.”

We sneak away, my eyes scanning the area. It didn’t appear as anyone was following us. My room was the last room on the left upstairs, so the anticipation as I guided him down the hallway was killing me.

Ever since Joel grazed my back earlier, I’ve been ready. So fucking ready. 

“Are we actually changing a lightbulb?”

I open my door for him, gesturing to him to follow me in.

In the dim light, Tommy was very cute. He was a sweet guy and I knew he’d be the first to jump on my idea. 

“You tell me,” I say, starting to untie the knot Joel tied. In my moment of trying to be sexy, I realize Joel tied the stupidest and hardest knot ever. Tommy notices my struggle, reaching around me, frantically trying to get the top off.

As it gets loose, I reach up to grab his neck.

“What the fuck is going on ‘ere?” 

His voice freezes me. Tommy looks towards the door in horror.

“Joel-“

“Tommy, you fucking know better,” His voice is so intimidating and scary, I cant even muster the courage to turn around, “Git.”

Tommy gives me eyes saying I’m so sorry, and I just stare blankly at my wall. I hear Tommy’s foot steps run down the stairs. I realize how drunk I am because my wall paper begins to move on it’s own. It doesn’t usually do that. 

“Now you,” His stride towards me is quick, “I’m not your Dad, but don’t think he’d like you fucking his employees.”

Maybe it was the liquid courage, “Who said I was trying to fuck him?”

I snap my head towards his stern and impossible to read face.

“Bullshit,” He spits, “He got through my knot, he assumed somethin’ was about to happen.”

“Well, even if that’s where it went, why are you putting your nose in our business?”

He chuckles darkly, “So now it’s ours, huh? I have you know, girl, Tommy’s business is my business. And you’re just makin’ my job hard.”

I tiptoe closer to him, “And what’s your job, again, Mr. Miller?”

“Make sure people are behavin’ themselves.”

I realize what he’s doing. My tipsy mind took a second to search his face for more, but I can't read him at all. 

“I’m behaving, Mr. Miller. I promise,” I reach up, touching his jaw, “No more funny business.”

It was the closest I had ever got to him. I felt a rush just touching him.

“Good, get your top back on and come down to the party. Your dad is looking for you.”

I look down at myself as he leaves the room. My fucking tits are out, and he didn’t even look down.

The game he was playing was not the same one I was playing.

–

The next morning, I have a pounding headache and no drive to leave my room. I was embarrassed and horrified. I knew I would have to face Joel and Tommy on Monday morning, so I had to make amends beforehand. I really didn’t want them to tell my dad and I was pretty out of line for trying to fuck Tommy when Joel wasn't giving me the attention my drunk ass thought I deserved.

After spending hours in bed, rolling back and forth thinking of a script to say, I figured that honesty is the best policy. 

Well, honesty with a little bend in the truth. 

I get showered and dressed. My usual summer time outfit was a crop top and short shorts, but today I needed to be more… conservative. 

I find a nice summery dress, that went to midthigh. It was yellow, not a lot cleavage, floral. Innocent. 

When I get downstairs, my dad sits in the living room, his feet propped up watching the news. 

“Where ya going, baby girl?” 

“I’m going for a walk,” I lie. 

“Wearing that?”

“Yes,” I nod quickly, “Do you need anything while I’m out?”

He shakes his head, “No, have fun, I guess.”

I could tell he was suspicious, but he wasn’t one to pester me too much. He had high expectations for me, but I always exceeded them. He never questioned me too much, unless it was about school. He didn’t even really care about my love life. He always got excited when I told him I was going on dates in college. I mean, I rather him be excited than bother me about the guys I was seeing.

I start my journey to Joel’s. I didn’t even know if he was home or not, I was going on blind faith.

It was hot as shit and I was not fully prepared to walk to his house in a dress and sandals. 

I could’ve just driven there and back. But no, I decided to roast in the hot summer sun.

–

When I arrive to his house, I just kind of stand in his driveway, catching my breath. He was home, his truck was here. 

I walk to the front door, knocking first then ringing the door bell. 

It takes about minute, but he gets the door. 

And he’s shirtless. 

It was the worst and best moment of my entire life. 

“What are you doing here?”

And it’s not quite the response I was anticipating when I arrived at his door. 

“I uh-,” I hear some stirring inside the house, which causes me to peak my head past Joel’s shoulder. 

I see movement, but my eyes find Joel’s again before I could focus in on it. He pushes me back a bit, coming outside and shutting the door behind him. 

“I came to apologize, but you seem busy.”

He shakes his head, “Not busy, just woke up.”

“With someone?”

What the fuck? Why can’t I shut my mouth?

“Pardon me?”

“Well I walked this whole way to apologize about my inappropriate behavior yesterday,” I explain, “But yeah, that’s it.”

The door creaks open and I am wholeheartedly anticipating a hot MILF or something. But instead, it’s a little girl. 

“Sarah, get inside!”

“Oh hi, I know you!”

I smile at the girl. She was cute, I had to admit. She looked a bit like Joel, mainly the smile. A smile I wasn’t too familiar with, because he wasn’t too keen on my jokes. Ever.

“Yeah, I work with your dad,” I explain, “Nice to see you, Sarah.”

“You too, do you want to have lunch with us?”

“Sarah she can’t st-” 

“I’d love to, only if your dad says it’s okay.”

He got himself in a pickle, but I was aching to have a conversation that didn’t involve me putting my foot in my mouth like I almost did again. Plus, some food and water would help the heatstroke I felt coming on.

He stares at me, almost like he wished I’d disappear, “Of course, come in. Sarah is making sandwiches.”

“I hope you like turkey and cheese!”

—

“Thanks for the sandwich, Sarah,” I say, wiping my face making sure I didn’t have mustard left over.

She smiles with her mouth full, “You’re welcome!”

“Hey Sarah, why don’t you go get ready for swim practice,” He suggests, “Me and your new best friend need to have an adult conversation.”

She looks up at him annoyed, “I guess, but don’t scare her away. She has a cool pool I want to swim in.”

I laugh out loud, “Yeah, don’t scare me away, Joel.”

He doesn’t laugh, he just looks at me with his lazer eyes. I just wish Sarah a farewell and shut my mouth, waiting for the storm. He stirs, eating another bite of his sandwich. 

“So you came to apologize, huh?”

I swallow, “Uh, yeah. I’m sorry for my inappropriate behavior. I had one too many yesterday.”

He nods, “Yeah you were practically falling out of that top of yours before you took Tommy upstairs. Surprised you didn’t have it off before then.”

My eyes widen, “Well that’s humiliating.”

“Don’t think anyone was particularly mad about it,” He says, “Maybe one of those neighborhood watch moms, but who cares about ‘em?”

I can’t help but smirk. Was he insinuating that he wasn’t mad about almost seeing my boobs?

“Yeah, they always give me the most disgusted looks when I’m out jogging.”

“Cause’ they miss bein’ young and beautiful,” He explains, “All their husbands stare, too.”

I can’t believe he’s talking to me like this, I find myself leaning in a bit to try to talk quieter. It seems like this is conversation we should be whispering to each other.

“Do you stare?”

Foot. In. Mouth. 

He smirks, giggling a bit. I finally got to see him smile.

“Of course, I do.”

----

Hehehehe tell me what you think! I'll be back with part 2 soon!

[danicamaximoff]

Pretend To Be Nice | Chapter Four

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

Chapter Four: 70's Funk?

Summary: A few months after forming their band "The Pussycats", Hazel and her friends PJ and Josie get noticed by a record label, and are quickly skyrocketed into fame. It's a dream come true for them, and all three of their lives are flipped upside down. Their quick arrival on the scene quickly draws the attention of many other artists and bands, including a popular girl band called "Nymphology". Unfortunately for Hazel, a mix-up and unintentional awful encounter ends up creating tension between the two groups right before they all leave for Nymphology's upcoming tour. Now forced to frequently interact with someone who she was convinced couldn't stand her, Hazel is desperately trying to fix things with the band's lead guitarist. However it doesn't help that Y/N is actively avoiding Hazel as much as possible, and the fact that Hazel found her insanely hot definitely didn't make things any easier.

Warnings: angst, rockstar au, eventual smut, slowburn, swearing, occasional alcohol mentions/use

Word Count: 4377

“Should we get mac and cheese?” Josie asks as she pushes the shopping cart as her and Hazel wander through the grocery store aisles to get a few snacks and food for their hotel room.

“Like the microwave one or the stove one?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows.

“Either one.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Josie, we don't have a stove in the hotel.” Hazel says as she shakes her head. “Or literally any cooking items.”

“You can make boxed mac in the microwave, I do it all the time at Sarah Lawrence.” Josie says with a shrug as she looks at Hazel.

“That sounds disgusting.” Hazel says as she scrunches up her face a bit.

“I mean it tastes the same for the most part, mac is mac. You just have to get the shell ones or sometimes the noodles clump together and then I guess it’s a little weird.” Josie says as she grabs a few boxes of mac and cheese as well as the microwavable cups.

“Do you know when we hear from Wyatt if we get a record deal or not? Oh shit.” Hazel asks as she absentmindedly runs her hand along the shelf tags, eyes going wide as she accidentally knocks a few of them to the ground, mentally panicking as she immediately grabs them and starts trying to put them back in their spots. “Oh hey, we should get gummy worms too.”

“I mean the meeting is today, so we should find out soon.” Josie says as she shrugs. “What happens if they sign us?”

“I dunno? We make a record?” Hazel says as she looks over at Josie.

“No, like, are we staying in the hotel the whole time? I don’t want to live in a hotel.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I mean we’d probably get an apartment, wouldn’t we?” Hazel says as she gets a confused look.

“I can’t afford Los Angeles!” Josie says as her eyes go wide in horror. “I can barely afford mac and cheese! How am I supposed to pay for an apartment?”

“Well they would pay us right? Plus it’s cool, if we get signed I can probably ask my mom to chip in or something. I’m pretty sure she has a beach house out here that she vacations at with boyfriends. My dad bought it for her when they were still together as an “I’m Sorry I Cheated” house. I heard them fighting about it in middle school.” Hazel says as she shrugs. “I can see if we can use it or something.”

“You never told me your dad cheated?” Josie asks with a confused and shocked look on her face.

“Well, yeah. You never asked, I didn’t think it was important.” Hazel says as she shrugs.

“I mean, you don’t have to, but I would tell you if something like that happened. You’re one of my best friends.” Josie says with a shrug.

“Wait, really?” Hazel says as she gets a surprised look on her face.

“Hazel, we’re literally in a band together and we hang out all the time.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a funny look.

“Yeah but I thought it’s mostly you and PJ doing stuff and me just tagging along.” Hazel says with a slightly confused look.

“What? No!” Josie says as she gives Hazel a confused look. “Hazel, you’re like the main reason the band exists, and I wouldn’t have come if you didn’t convince me.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“PJ said you agreed to join the band because she said you’d get a girlfriend.” Hazel says as she frowns and gives Josie a confused look as well.

“Hazel, PJ says a lot of stuff.” Josie says as she rolls her eyes. “I love her, but she just talks to talk half the time. I never even wanted to be in a band, it scares the crap out of me, dude. I know I complained about the bowling alley a lot, but playing at the party was like the worst stage fright I’ve ever experienced.” Josie says as she shakes her head while grabbing a few grocery items off the shelves and into the cart she was pushing.

“But then why’d you-” Hazel starts to say before Josie cuts her off.

“Because I remembered you had always wanted to be in a band. Didn’t you have an obsession with Kiss or something when you were younger?” Josie says as she glances at Hazel.

  “I did, I went as Paul Simmons for Halloween one year.” Hazel says as she nods.

“See? That’s why I joined. You love music, and you do all the hard stuff like getting outfits and gigs and everything, I just have to show up and play, which is good because I think if I had any other responsibilities I would crumble under the pressure because I get anxious enough about performing.” Josie says as she shakes her head.

“I thought you guys didn’t like the cat ears?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I thought they were kind of fun.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I mean, I wouldn’t have cared if we didn’t wear them, but it was a cool idea. And people liked it and it fits with the band name.” Josie says as she shrugs. “I think it should be part of our outfits.”

“Wait, really?” Hazel asks as her face lights up with excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me I was the reason you joined?” 

“Because PJ takes over, so when she says we’re doing this to get girlfriends, you kind of just have to go along with it.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“I was never doing it to get a girlfriend. I just like the drums.” Hazel says as she furrows her brows.

“Yeah, but you can also say no to PJ, cause you don’t care. She’s my best friend so I just kind of go along with things after a bit.” Josie says as she shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Hazel says as she shrugs, before realizing something irrelevant to the conversation. “Oh I forgot to tell you, that girl you like is at the same studio as us. You know, the one from Nymphology with the like-” Hazel starts to say as she gestures at her chest where hair would be if she had long hair, but Josie cuts her off as she starts nervously laughing.

“Oh my god, please don’t remind me!” Josie says as she stops walking and leans her head against her arms as they rest on the shopping cart. “I already met her, and I almost threw up.” 

“What? You threw up?!” Hazel asks in shock as she gives Josie an alarmed look.

“No! God I would die if I did! I wasn’t being serious! I was just a total idiot when I talked to her!” Josie says as her eyes go wide and she shakes her head.

“What’d you say? I mean it probably wasn’t that bad, you’re a very likeable person.” Hazel says as her face scrunches up in confusion.

“Well I saw her, and I choked on the water I was drinking, and then she came over and asked if I was okay, and I said yeah, and then she was like “I’m Isabel” and I was like “I’m Josie” and then I stared at her for like a second and then looked away, and then I asked if she liked water because I couldn’t think of anything to say.” Josie says awkwardly as she looks up at the ceiling.

“Well did she?” Hazel asks.

“Did she what?” Josie asks Hazel with a confused look.

“Did she like water?” Hazel says as she looks at Josie expectantly.

“Yes. She did. Everyone does, Hazel, you need it to live.” Josie says as she looks at Hazel a bit in disbelief. 

“Well now you have something in common!” Hazel says as she smiles a bit, clearly thinking she was being helpful, as Josie sighs and shakes her head.

“We gotta work on how you comfort people, dude.” Josie says as she gives Hazel a look.

“What’s wrong with how I comfort people?” Hazel says as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“It’s not that there’s something wrong, you just-” Josie says before sighing. “I just mean that if you weren’t one of my best friends and I didn’t know you, I would think you’re being a dick and making fun of me.”

“Oh, really? I thought that would be helpful, cause now you have something in common with her.” Hazel says as she shrugs. 

“I-” Josie starts to say before stopping and sighing a bit. “Thank you Hazel, that actually is helpful.” Josie says as she nods, though she definitely was just saying that to not make Hazel sad.

“Oh really? Sick!” Hazel says with a grin. “Oh you know what you should do? Mention moss! Because it can help you find water! And then you have two things to talk about!” Hazel says excitedly as they continue shopping.

“Hi mom!” Hazel says into the phone excitedly from her hotel room, feeling like she was about to pass out. She had just got back from the meeting with the record label, and The Pussycats had officially been signed for a three year contract, and if their first album did well, then that would most likely be extended. They started recording the rest of the album tomorrow, and the label agreed to pay for the hotel for the time being until the three of them found a place to live in. 

“Hi sweetheart! How are you!” Hazel’s mom says into the phone, sounding like she was yelling for some reason.

“Are you yelling? Why are you talking weird?” Hazel says with a confused tone.

“I’m on my elliptical right now, but I have a face mask and I’m doing that cucumber thing on my eyes! Annie said it will help with my bags and the dark circles! Annie, say hi to Hazel!” Her mom says over the phone, talking to her best friend Annie.

“Hi Hazel! How’s college?” Annie says in the background.

“No, Annie, she’s not at Sarah Lawerence right now, for that… that band thing.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Oh that’s right! How’s LA? Have you met Robert Downey Jr. yet?” Annie asks in the background, yelling as well.

“I’m here for music stuff, not movies.” Hazel says into the phone as she shakes her head.

“It could happen! If you meet him, tell him I’m single!” Annie yells, which makes Hazel roll her eyes.

“Yeah, sure, okay anyways, mom can I tell you my news now?” Hazel says impatiently.

“Yes, of course sweetheart! What is it? Annie shut up.” Her mom says over the phone.

“We got a record deal! The contract is for three years!” Hazel says excitedly, and her mother gasps over the phone.

“Oh my goodness! That’s amazing!” Her mom yells over the phone, though still clearly exercising as she talks. “Annie, did you hear that? Hazel’s going to be a musician!” 

“Yeah, I know! We start recording the album tomorrow!” Hazel says excitedly as she grins.

“That’s wonderful, sweetheart!” Her mom yells. “Siri! Siri! Si-Ri!” Her mom beggins yelling clearly trying to get her phone’s voice assistant to activate. “Annie why is Siri not working?” 

“Mom, why do you need Siri?” Hazel asks as she furrows her brows in confusion.

“I need to set a reminder to book a flight to LA!” She says to Hazel.

“What? Why?” Hazel asks, clearly confused by her mother’s sudden plans.

“Hazel, you’re going to be famous! I want to be there to see my little Witch Hazel spread her wings!” Her mom says into the phone, using a nickname from when Hazel was little, which makes Hazel groan.

“Mom, please stop calling me that! I’m not five anymore!” Hazel says with embarrassment.

“Siri! Siri! Oh for Christ's sake, Annie, I’m taking the cucumbers off.” Hazel’s mom says, before shuffling noise is heard as she seemingly grabs the phone. “Let me find a good flight, and I’ll fly out as soon as I can sweetheart!” She says excitedly, her voice significantly closer to the phone and not yelling as much since she was now holding the phone.

“No, mom you really don’t-” Hazel starts to say before her mom cuts her off.

“Do you girls need somewhere to stay? I assume you can’t be in a hotel the whole time.” Hazel’s mom says over the phone, which makes Hazel perk up.

“Yeah, actually! That’s part of why I called, I was wondering if we can rent out the beach house or something instead of getting an apartment, because PJ and Josie can’t afford rent out here.” Hazel says quickly. “We’d take really good care of it! We wouldn’t ruin it!”

“Oh, yeah, of course! We can sign you up for surfing lessons too, so you can be a California girl and get the full experience!” Hazel’s mom says with an excited tone.

“Oh I don’t really-” Hazel starts to say before she gets cut off again.

“No, no, no, trust me! You’ll want surfing lessons sweetheart! It’s very rockstar! Plus the instructors are usually hot. I had one a few years ago, what was his name?” Hazel’s mom says as she thinks for a second. “Well, I can’t remember, but I do remember he was very hot! We hooked up a lot that summer, he-” Hazel’s mom starts to say, before Hazel cuts her off.

“Ew, mom! I don’t want to hear about that!” Hazel says with a disgusted look on her face.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Her mom says defensively. “I’m just saying! They’re usually very hot!”

“Mom, I don’t even like men, you know this!” Hazel says, still disgusted at the topic.

“There’s girl instructors too!” Hazel’s mom says over the phone.

“Mom- I- No! I don’t- Can we go back to talking about the beach house?” Hazel says as she stumbles over her words.

“Alright, alright! I’m letting it go! Of course you can use the beach house sweetheart, we can work out all the details when I fly out. Anyways I have to go, I have a decorative bead making class in an hour and I have to change out of my workout clothes. I’ll text you the flight plans once I book it! I love you!” Hazel’s mom says before hanging up the phone, leaving Hazel confused.

“Decorative bead making class?” Hazel says to herself with confusion as Josie and PJ enter the hotel room.

“Hazel, there were the hottest girls at the pool just now, one of them was totally into me! I told you guys this was a good idea!” PJ says excitedly as she throws her towel down on one of the chairs in the hotel room.

“They looked at us like once, PJ.” Josie says as she gives PJ a look.

“Yeah and it was a “I’m totally into you” kind of look!” PJ says as she throws her arms up and looks at Josie. “Oh, Hazel, have you called your mom yet?” She asks as she flops down on the couch.

“Yeah! She said we can move into the beach house!” Hazel says with a smile.

“Fuck yeah!” PJ says excitedly as she punches the air.

“Hey guys? Have we like, put thought into what songs are going on the album?” Josie asks as she grabs a soda from the mini fridge.

“Shit!” PJ says as she sits up a bit.

“I mean I have, but it’s not-” Hazel starts to say as PJ cuts her off.

“Write it down! We need to have a plan for tomorrow! Fuck, Josie! Why’d you make me go to the pool!” PJ says as she panics a bit, as Josie throws her arm up in annoyance, as going to the pool had been PJ’s idea.

“Fuck, that’s not right.” Hazel says as she frowns and scribbles out the notes she wrote on the music sheet. She bites on her pencil for a moment as she thinks, before setting it down and readjusting the electric guitar she was holding and playing different note sequences over again as she tries to figure out the guitar part for a song.

She was currently the only one in the studio, PJ and Josie had left about thirty minutes ago to go grab dinner, but Hazel had stayed behind, determined to figure out this new song they were working on that had her stumped. She had already figured out the general beat and the chorus, but the more fine details and actual instrumentals to the song was frustrating her, as she couldn’t seem to figure out a vibe that she liked and matched with the vision she had for the song. Josie and PJ had tried to convince her to take a break, but she refused to leave until she figured this out, so here she was, alone with one of the electric guitars as she ran over the same section over and over again, trying to come up with something she liked. 

It had been about a week and a half since being signed, and they had been working constantly on the album, picking which songs, discussing with Wyatt, and had even decided to come up with a few new ones per Wyatt’s suggestion, giving them advice and his thoughts on what the album was missing. 

Staring off into space, she hums the general vibe of the song she had so far to herself, her fingers absentmindedly tap against the base of the guitar as she bites her lip a bit and thinks. Lost in thought, she doesn’t notice the sound of the door to the studio opening as she begins playing another random string of notes on the guitar, her brows furrowed in concentration.

“Is that for the album?” Y/N asks from the door, as she leans against the doorframe, making Hazel jump in her seat a bit.

“Oh my god, hi!” She says as she quickly turns and sees Y/N, heart immediately racing.

“Hi.” Y/N says as she grins softly. “They leave you in here by yourself?” She asks as she looks around at the empty recording studio.

“Oh, yeah. Josie and PJ went to go grab food but I wanted to stay and work on this new song we’re writing.” Hazel says as she smiles, trying not to show how nervous she is.

“Can I hear it? I promise I won’t steal it.” Y/N says with a small laugh, a teasing grin on her face that makes Hazel’s stomach do cartwheels.

“Oh it’s not- I mean- it’s- I’m still working on it. It’s in shambles right now.” Hazel says, nervously stumbling over her words.

“That’s okay, I won’t judge.” Y/N says with a laugh as she shakes her head. 

“Oh, I mean- uh, yeah sure, if you really want to then.” Hazel says as she nods a bit.

“Yeah, show me what you got so far.” She says with a smile as she walks inside, the studio door closing behind her as she goes and sits down on one of the chairs near Hazel.

“Okay, yeah. Um, so this song is supposed to be like towards the end of the album kind of. A lot of our songs are like in the alternative category, but Wyatt said we should add more variety to what we have so far, so we added a few slower ones, and for this one, PJ said she wanted it to be more “funky” but not 70’s, and I don’t really know what that means. We don’t even have all the lyrics either, it’s very unfinished right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs a hand through her hair, avoiding eye contact with Y/N.

“What are you working on right now?” Y/N asks as she scoots a bit closer to see what Hazel had written down so far. “I can try and help if you want.”

“Really?” Hazel asks as she looks at her in shock.

“Yeah.” Y/N says as she smiles and nods her head. “Nymphology finished recording for the day, I was heading out but I saw someone was in here so I wanted to say hi in case it was you.” 

“Why me?” Hazel asks, both in shock and confusion.

“Well we didn’t really get to talk a few weeks ago, and I’m curious about the moss thing now, because I think it was Josie? But anyways, one of the girls in my band is named Isabel, and apparently Josie brought up moss the other day.” Y/N says as she laughs a bit. “I’m just curious now if that’s like a friend group thing or not.”

“No! It’s not! It’s my thing! I told Josie about it because she likes Isabel so I said she should bring up moss because they both like water, so it connects, and that’s what I do.” Hazel says quickly as she shakes her head, before her eyes go wide as she realizes what she said. “Shoot, don’t tell her I said that.” She says as Y/N laughs.

“So you bring up moss as a flirting tactic?” Y/N asks with a grin, which makes Hazel panic.

“What? What- No! No, I don’t- Sometimes, but like-” Hazel says as she immediately stumbles over her words and blushes a bit. “Anyways the song!” She says quickly as she turns back to the paper she had been writing on. What is wrong with me?! She thinks to herself as Y/N giggles. She was rarely like this around girls. Fuck. She seriously needed to ignore the fact that Y/N was super pretty and get her game back. Except when she actually thought about it, that was definitely very impossible. Double fuck. “Anyways, this is the part I’m trying to figure out right now.” Hazel says as she nervously runs her hand through her hair again before readjusting the guitar again, internally just a jumbled mess on nerves and anxiety as she begins playing what she had so far on the guitar.

“And your friend said she wanted it to be what? Funky but not 70’s?” Y/N asks after thinking for a minute, a quizzical expression on her face.

“Yeah.” Hazel says softly as she avoids eye contact, glancing all over, eyes falling on Y/N’s shoes though, as the red converse had a lot of doodles all over them.

“Can I see what else you have?” Y/N asks, a bit more serious now as Hazel hands her the papers and notes without saying anything. She reads over, her fingers tapping against the paper as she figures out the beat and the drum parts Hazel had so far. “I think the only “funky” kind of part should be the guitar. But even then less funky and more fun. Do you listen to Paramore?” She asks as she looks over at Hazel.

“Wh- Yeah, I do.” Hazel says as her head snaps up and she nods.

“I don’t know if this will make sense, but maybe coming up with something that sounds like how their album cover for After Laughter looks?” Y/N says as she shrugs and furrows her brows a bit.

“I- That does actually, yeah.” Hazel says as she nods.

“Like, hold on, let me think.” Y/N says as she furrows her brows for a moment. “Can I see that quick?” She asks as she gestures to the guitar. 

“Oh, yeah, here.” Hazel says as she hands her the guitar, heart unintentionally racing a bit as their hands accidentally brush against each other.

They spend a while going over random chord progressions and different melodies, until after a while, they had created a pretty solid backbone for the guitar part of the song, that Hazel and the others could flesh out more later. As time goes on Hazel gradually relaxes more, being able to focus on the song and music helping her distract herself from her nerves, and allowing her to start cracking jokes more and actually engage in conversation outside of the song and music stuff.

By the time Josie and PJ arrive, Y/N was telling Hazel about crazy fan experiences, and wild things that had happened to her and her friends over the years, laughing as she mentions the time she had created a fake twitter account and started beef with herself and how pissed the fans got at her burner account. 

“Hey, Hazel- Oh. Hi?” PJ says as she walks in, doing a double take when she sees Y/N.

“Hi.” Y/N says with a smile as she looks over at PJ and Josie. “I’m Y/N. I’m friends with Hazel.” She says as she smiles and gestures to Hazel, the statement making Hazel smile.

“We know. You’re in Nymphology.” Josie says as she nods a bit nervously.

“Mhmm.” Y/N says with a nod. “You’re Josie, right?” 

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Josie says as she nods.

“Isabel’s told me about you.” Y/N says with a small giggle, making Josie blush and get a nervous smile on her face as she looks away, clearly worried about the fact Isabel had mentioned her to her bandmates.

“I’m PJ!” PJ quickly says as she stares at Y/N.

“Anyways, um, you should probably go, thanks for the help.” Hazel says quickly as she gathers the papers scattered around them.

“Oh, yeah of course, anytime.” Y/N says with a smile.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks. It was fun, I’ll see you soon probably.” Hazel says as she quickly gets up, immediately nervous and embarrassed again now that PJ and Josie were there.

“If you need any more help, let me know. It was nice meeting you guys.” Y/N says to Hazel before turning and smiling to PJ and Josie as she walks out, shutting the door behind her after waving bye.

“What the fuck?” PJ says in shock as her and Josie immediately look at Hazel, who was now heavily blushing as she fiddles with the shirt she was wearing.

I genuinely love writing this story its sm fun. I love Hazel she's so cute. Also I fr have no clue how record label stuff works so I'm kinda just pulling this out of my ass lmao. I'm like "yeah I watched Daisy Jones and The Six and can google basic steps for this, good enough" and then just hoped it would be accurate dfdhsfkjhej. dividers from @saradika and @animatedglittergraphics-n-more graphic made by me lol

[little-diable]

Drunken Longings and Sober Actions - Prof!Tommy Shelby (smut)

God, how I adore writing with @zablife – thank you for joining me, my love! This imagine is shamelessly inspired by some new Cillian pictures that give off the prof!Tommy vibe. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader takes on the position of Professor Shelby's assistant, the man who is also the advisor of her PhD thesis. How long can the two endure to be around one another before they finally give into their longing?

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, oral (f), professor x assistant/student, unaddressed age gap

Pairing: Modern!Prof!Tommy Shelby x fem!assistant!reader (5.3k words)

picture credit to Document Journal

“Dear (y/n),  I’m happy to let you know that the topic of your PhD thesis has been accepted by the dean! I’d say we’ll fixate a few meetings over the upcoming semester for you to update me on the status of your thesis and to go over any questions you may have. Since your thesis has been accepted, you’re also allowed to help out with my courses from now on, for that I’d like you to come by my office on Friday, so we can go over the details before you officially start next Monday. We can combine the meeting on Friday with some coffee, if you want.  I’m very proud of you, (y/n). You’ll be an exceptional asset to our faculty, I’m very lucky to have you as my assistant.  Best, Tommy”

A gasp left (y/n) as she read the email with dilated pupils, with her teeth buried in her lower lip, and her heart racing in her chest. She had been waiting for this moment for months, praying to whoever was listening, begging them that her thesis would be accepted. Deep down she had always known that she’d get the position as Professor Shelby’s assistant, and yet she had doubted herself, not daring to believe in the path laying ahead of her.

(Y/n) could still remember the first time she had asked the professor if he’d take on the role as her supervisor, the one to guide her through ups and downs, the one to help her with her questions, the one to pick her up whenever she doubted herself and her research abilities. Professor Shelby – or Tommy as he told her to call him – had been in her life since her first semester, he had instantly caught her attention, perhaps it had been the piercing blue eyes of his that reminded her of a melting glacier basking in the heat of the July sun, perhaps it had been his cold, mysterious demeanour that had called her closer like an ancient whisper only she could understand. Whatever it had been, it had lured (y/n) closer, trapped by his spell, and now, after all these years, she finally got to work alongside the smart professor she adored, the handsome professor she crushed on. 

Her hands were shaking as she started replying to the email, thanking the professor one too many times, taking on the invite, and adding that she’d take care of the coffee. (Y/n) had spent many hours in Professor Shelby’s office, finding comfort in the room that appeared darker than all other offices, stacked with books, old and new ones, with pictures and drawings of people and places (y/n) didn’t recognise. And even though it had taken the two a while to adjust to one another – even though he had always taken his time to answer her every question, the professor had kept his distance, only slowly had the surface began to crack, finally letting her in – she now loved spending time in his office, finding shelter with him close. 

(Y/n)’s mind started racing, painting one picture more vivid than the one before, producing stories she’d dream of for nights to come. She couldn’t help but wonder how it must feel to have the professor close, how he’d touch her, how he’d hold her. Heat rose to her face, clinging to her like a warm blanket tossed over her trembling upper body. Carefully wrapped around her, like he’d carefully tug her closer, protectively, lovingly. 

……

“Please, come in!” Professor Shelby’s voice echoed through the morning, making a smile tug on (y/n)’s lips as she stepped into the office. She carried two cups of coffee, closing the door with her foot before she met him halfway, pushing the professor the coffee into his outstretched hand. “Morning (y/n), thank you for the coffee.”

“Of course, it’s the least I could do. I’m very excited.” His chuckles filled the room, echoing off the books he cherished like nothing compared, a sound so distinct, (y/n) was sure she’d always recognise it. The professor thumped through his notes, not picking up on the way her gaze flickered between the steam of his coffee rising like soldiers preparing for battle and the piercing eyes she wanted to watch explore her naked body. 

“There we go, I printed out this semester’s schedule for you. If it’s alright with you, you’ll join my Monday, Thursday, and Friday classes. For the first few weeks you can help me with preparations and the homework we will have to grade, and then you can slowly take over and teach a few classes on your own.” Her smile kept growing, clearly projecting the excitement she felt, grateful for this very opportunity. She took the sheet from his stretched out hand, reading through the lines over and over again, wondering if this was just a dream she was caught in. 

“Thank you so much, you know how much I appreciate this.” Tommy studied her for a few seconds before he cleared his throat, taking yet another sip of the coffee. There was an undeniable tension lingering in the room, growing between them like the heat of the summer would grow with every rising of the sun, adding to the crackling atmosphere. This very tension had nothing uncomfortable to it though, something (y/n) was all too used to, wondering if this was something only she could feel. 

“Of course, we both know how much me and my students will profit from your knowledge. I’m very happy to be your advisor, (y/n), I hope you know that.” Once again (y/n) could feel heat flushing through her system, still not used to his praises the other students weren’t fortunate enough to experience. Back when she and Tommy had met, (y/n) had been jealous of those that had gained his attention, forcing her to do even better on her homework and his tests, hoping, perhaps even praying, that he’d finally notice her. And now, all these years later, (y/n) still struggled to accept that their relationship had changed this much, like the tide rolling back in, bringing news from unknown territories. 

“Is there anything I can help you with? Any presentations I should put together? I know how much you hate doing these.” Both couldn’t help but chuckle at her lighthearted teasing, reminded of all these times (y/n) had helped him with his powerpoint presentations, taking over before his annoyance could take over like a tsunami wave swallowing whatever was standing in its way. 

“You know what, I’d actually really appreciate it if you could take over the presentations this semester, it seems like my students enjoy your designs more than mine anyways.” His grin kept growing as he listened to her chuckles, hearts beating in sync, even though they were sitting too far apart to pick up on the beat of one another’s strong muscle keeping them alive. 

……

“We are so proud of you!” (Y/n)’s chuckles blended in with those of her two friends, smiling at them as they touched glasses, drowning yet another sip of their beverages. The music of the crowded bar rang in their ears, distracting them whenever a song they knew by heart started playing. “So, tell us, will you finally fuck him this semester?” 

The first week of joining Tommy’s course was just about to start, and deep down (y/n) knew they’d continue their days filled with teasing glances, with loving conversations, and encouraging phrases. An almost unfamiliar kind of pride had filled his eyes as (y/n) had first asked him if he’d be her advisor, and now, as they finally got to work together, this very kind of pride was still filling his pupils. 

Their bodies searched one another’s closeness like magnets, like the stretched out hand Leander would have needed before he drowned. There was an undeniable attraction between the two, something awfully frowned upon, hence why neither (y/n) nor Tommy dared to address whatever was buzzing between them. 

“God, I wish.” (Y/n)’s friends couldn’t help but cheer, once again taking another sip before (y/n) kept speaking. “He’s just so, I can’t even describe it, perfect? I’m so sure that he’s perfect for me, but I can’t, he’s my advisor and boss after all.” 

The three of them were all too tipsy by now, no longer able to reflect on any advice their sober minds would produce. (Y/n)’s eyes started wandering through the bar, recognising a few familiar faces, students and professors that would find this bar close to their university. Her breath hitched in her chest as her eyes found a pair of piercing blue ones, momentarily leaving her frozen. 

Tommy was surrounded by some colleagues, barely listening to the stories they shared as he held eye contact with (y/n). Her friends followed her gaze, silently chuckling as they recognised the man (y/n) had been crushing on for years on end. Before either one could stop themselves, (y/n) and Tommy started moving, meeting halfway. 

“Do you want to join me outside?” His soft voice left her heart racing, wordlessly nodding her head as she followed him, engulfed by the balmy breeze, stroking up and down their goosebump covered forearms. “You should have told me that you’d end up here tonight.”

She watched him alight his cigarette, taking a deep inhale before he exhaled the blue smoke reminding her of the way the ancient city of Troy had burned, flames climbing higher and higher. (Y/n) had to blink a few times to rip herself out of her trance, fully entranced by the handsome man, by the way his hair fell into his features, by the way his body seemed to invite her in, not stepping away from her. 

“I didn’t want to intrude on your time with them, you seemed very excited about seeing them again this morning.” He nodded his head, staring at her with something she couldn’t pinpoint. There was an unfamiliar kind of distance growing between them, blue eyes rather icy, no longer filled with the pride she now longed for. Her heart kept hammering in her chest as her mind begged her to keep quiet, hoping that no embarrassing words would come upon her alcohol tinted lips. 

“I see, it’s probably not the best idea to be seen outside of work after all, not like this.” Her eyes couldn’t help but flicker to his lips as he spoke, silently wondering how it must feel to have them pressing against hers, to taste the beer he had sipped on, the cigarette he had just finished smoking. Fuck, if she’d be any more drunk, (y/n) would probably close the gap between them, not caring that all other people could watch them share a kiss. The sound of Tommy clearing his throat ripped (y/n) out of her trance, slowly catching up with the cold words he spoke, pushing her away from him before she could take another breath. 

Before either one of them could speak another word, the sound of Tommy’s ringing phone popped the bubble they were engulfed by, forcing them to step away from one another. (Y/n) cleared her throat before she looked at him one last time, body suddenly filled with an uncomfortable wave of sadness, of confusion, stepping back into the bar in a desperate need for some more alcohol. 

…

“Dear Tommy,  It was lovely seeing you tonight. I’m really looking forward to working with you this semester and I just wanted to say how much I appreciate your support.  I think our meeting Friday was productive and things seemed to be going well until I ran into you down at the pub. I’m a bit of a worrier and I over think things a lot so forgive me for asking, but have I done something? You seemed cross with me when I spoke with you earlier and it’s all I can think about now. I have to know before we begin working together, otherwise I don’t know if I’ll be able to concentrate properly.”

(Y/n) watched the cursor blink beneath her thumb, inhaling deeply as she thought about Tommy’s blue eyes darken as he stared at her earlier. He hadn’t held the same warmth or congeniality as he did in his office. This look was withering, as though she’d offended him, but (y/n) couldn’t think of what she might have done to warrant it. 

Her head was pounding and her mouth felt dry as she slid her phone onto the table and went in search of water. As she stood at the sink, reaching for a glass, she heard her friend Sylvie giggle. “What’s this, Y/n?” she asked mischievously. 

(Y/n) spun around to find Sylvie holding her phone, reading the email she’d left open. Abandoning her water, (y/n) attempted to grab for her phone, but missed as her friend held it over her head. “Give it to me! That’s important, Sylvie. He’s my thesis advisor.” 

“Yea, I remember. I was there two hours ago when you were drooling all over yourself! You want to fuck him, after all!” She chuckled with a wicked grin. (Y/n) gulped, realising she might not have been as graceful as she’d hoped. In fact, Sylvie made it sound as though she’d made a fool of yourself. God, had she? (Y/n) didn’t have time to ponder her behaviour further as the clacking of her phone brought her out of her head and back to reality. 

To her horror, (y/n) realised Sylvie was adding her own text to the email. “What are you doing?” (y/n) mumbled, furrowing her brow in suspicion.

“Giving you a shot with hot professor,” Sylvie replied, biting her lip as she typed out another line quickly before rushing into the lounge and diving onto the couch with a squeal of delight. 

“No, no, no!” (Y/n) shrieked, barreling toward her friend for the phone. Sylvie had dropped it onto the table as she swung her legs over the side of the sofa, humming to herself. (Y/n) couldn’t help but gasp as she heard the swooshing noise notifying that the email had been sent. With wobbly legs and tingling fingertips, (y/n) reached for what awaited her on the bright screen. 

At the bottom of her somewhat emotional, yet still professional work email, Sylvie had added three lines.

“You should take me to dinner to apologise. And wear the trousers from tonight that kept me staring at your arse. You looked really fit! Xx”

 “Thanks, Sylvie. Thanks a lot,” (y/n) deadpanned, sucking your teeth. 

“You’re welcome, babe!” Sylvie smiled back at her contentedly, though her eyelids were closed and she was half asleep already. How was I going to explain this? (Y/n)  wondered.

……

With her eyes focused on her phone, (y/n) kept shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She was wrapped in her most comfortable jacket, finding shelter with the fabric that had engulfed her too many times to count, hugging her close. Her heart was pounding, counting the seconds, wondering when he’d turn up.

Even though she had somehow survived their first Monday class together, Tommy hadn’t said anything to her. Well, besides the occasional small talk. She had woken that morning to the sound of an email finding its way to her, Tommy’s reply to the words her drunken self had typed with trembling fingers, paired with the words of her friend. 

“Dear Y/n, I must say I was surprised to receive your email after our chance encounter this weekend. I had no idea you felt uncomfortable in any way when we parted. As we will be working closely in the coming months, I will confide that my Aunt Polly has been unwell. If I seemed off, it was only because I’d taken a concerning call from her moments earlier. However, I assure you that your thesis has my full attention and I am committed to a good working relationship between us.  If you would join me this Tuesday for dinner at the Italian bistro around the corner from campus, I’d be interested to hear your feedback about the first day of class. I don’t think you’ll have any trouble providing thoughts if your wardrobe tips are any indication. By the way, thank you for the enthusiasm over my style. It’s good to know I still have some. Best, Tommy"

She had been torn between embarrassment, confusion, and a small fracture of pride. Yesterday, after leaving the class, he had told her that he’d await her in front of the bistro at 7 pm. And now, as she was waiting for him, a few minutes too early, (y/n) couldn’t help but give into the anticipation flooding through her, would they finally address whatever was happening between them? 

“Evening, (y/n).” Tommy’s raspy voice snapped her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering up to meet his. With a slight smile tugging on his lips, he held the door to the bistro open for her, catching the way her eyes seemed to recognise the all too familiar pair of trousers her friend had mentioned in the email. “After you.”

Slowly she stepped into the place she had last visited months ago, unable to stop her gasp from rolling off her tongue as he placed his hand on the small of her back. Tommy guided her to an empty corner, wordlessly helping her out of her coat before he sat down vis-a-vis her. 

With an almost too straight posture, (y/n) and Tommy looked through the menu, caught in the silence that had nothing uncomfortable to it, yet it was so thick it felt like neither of them could speak up. Only after the waiter had taken their order did they finally give in, eyes finding one another. 

“I have to say, I was quite surprised about your email. But I am truly sorry if I hurt you in any way, that wasn’t my intention.” He kept his voice low, without any emotions dripping from it as if he was scared that she could see straight through the barrier he had built around himself. 

“That’s alright, I probably shouldn’t have emailed you in my state.” No longer could she hold eye contact with him, gaze focused on her fingers. 

“You had every right to. It’s true, if we keep working with one another we have to properly communicate.” A sigh left the man, eyes flickering down to her fingers, watching (y/n) fumble with them for a few moments before he started talking once again, giving into the words he shouldn’t speak. “I’m sure you’ve noticed that I act differently around you, and I hope I don’t make you feel uncomfortable with saying this, but our relationship has nothing professional to it. I can’t hide whatever it is you’re making me feel.” 

……

“Here, let me help you.” Tommy reached for her jacket, helping (y/n) out of the warm fabric before he guided her through his house, towards his kitchen. The two were engulfed by an unfamiliar kind of silence, clinging to their bodies as if it was scared that the two would part ways before they could finally give in. Minutes ago they had left the bistro, and even though their dinner did have an almost carefree touch to it, they were back to chasing their distance just now. 

“Tea?” (Y/n) could only nod her head as she watched Tommy move around his kitchen, eyes focused on his task at hand, not looking at her once. Fuck, she hated this, the awkward tension so thick one could cut it with a knife, ripping the two out of this very state they seemed to be trapped in. (Y/n) couldn’t remember a day where they had acted like this, like strangers being forced to spend time with one another, not knowing how to speak up, how to get to know one another. 

“Tommy,” the word rolled off her tongue before she could stop herself, moving closer in a desperate need to minimise the distance between them like ships sailing an ocean so big their chances of crossing paths were slim to none. “What am I doing here? What is this?”

He stared at her, jaw muscles twitching as he clenched his teeth together, pondering over his words, unsure how to break out of this state. Tommy wasn’t quite sure why he had invited her to his place, not yet wanting to let her go though struggling to give into the shift of the air around them. A huff left (y/n) at his silence, turning from him to step out of this room, out of this house, but Tommy didn’t let her get far, hand clamped down on her wrist. 

(Y/n) felt herself being spun around, chest colliding with his, and before she could even try to protest, Tommy had closed the distance between them, finally kissing her. It took her a few seconds to snap into motion, hand finding his clean shaven cheek, allowing herself to deepen the kiss. Their tongues met, slow at first, allowing themselves to adjust to this new sensation, to the fire simmering inside of them, unable to hold back. 

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than I should admit.” His raspy words left her chuckling, no longer caught in the web of unspoken confessions, of an awkward tension, rather breaking through the invisible barrier. She kissed him again, and again, squealing in surprise as her professor pushed her onto his kitchen island, lingering between her thighs. 

A gasp left (y/n) as Tommy’s lips found their way down her throat, sucking on the spot where her neck met her throat, making sure to leave marks at any given chance. The moment had something so forbidden to it, and yet they were taken by the thrill of it, begging them to keep on touching, to give into their longing. 

“Can I?” His whispers left her smiling, nodding her head to allow Tommy to pull her dress over her head, exposing her underwear to his dilated pupils. Not once had a man looked at her like this, with so much love, with so much desire filling his eyes, an unfamiliar gaze she’d probably never get used to. It seemed to be an unspoken fact between them that Tommy would take care of her like no other human being ever could, made for her, for her body, the flesh cage that had called out to his, claiming one another before any confessions could be spoken.

Skilled fingers undid her bra, exposing her goosebump covered chest to his wandering eyes and to his eager lips. He kept switching between her breasts, kissing and touching the skin he had longed to touch for years. Fuck, he had once promised himself that he’d never cross this very line, but now all promises were lost like the ships that had sunken to the bottom of an ancient ocean no living being remembered. Lost like all the souls Tommy kept researching, finding comfort in the thought of retelling stories of those that had shaped this very world into the world they knew now. 

His warm lips kept kissing their way down her body, down her flesh to the outlines of her panties, toying with the fabric for a few seconds before his piercing eyes flickered up to meet hers, once again asking for her permission. 

“Touch me, please.” It was simple, really, and yet the moment was by far more complex than either one would like to admit. There was no going back once he touched her there, there was no letting go of whatever they were about to create, perpetuating their love on their bodies and souls. Tommy hesitated for just a fraction of a second before he shuffled her panties down her legs, eyes focused on her heat, on the arousal glistening on her skin. 

The cold surface of the kitchen island pressed itself against her skin, grounding (y/n) before she could get lost in Tommy’s touch, in the careful movements of his wandering fingers, exploring her body all too curious. Her thighs were trembling, fighting against the urge to press them together, to get rid of the ache between them, reminding (y/n) of all these times she had touched herself to the thought of her professor. 

“I’ve been thinking of this moment way too many times, and now, as I have you before me, I know that my mind could never imagine a sight like you, so beautiful.” Her heart swelled in her chest, once again taken up by the unexpected praises leaving Tommy. (Y/n) reached for his hand, wordlessly squeezing it before he brought it up to his lips, kissing her skin. For a few seconds they kept holding eye contact before he let go of her hand, mouth meeting her cunt. 

She arched her back, letting go of the moan wanting to claw through her, hand coming down flat on the kitchen island she was laying on. Curses left (y/n) as his tongue brushed through her slit, moaning at the taste of her arousal, already addicted within the first few seconds. Her heart was pounding, racing faster than ever before, making (y/n) wonder if she’d pass out any moment now. 

(Y/n)’s body tried to push her even closer to him, breath hitching in her chest as his warm thumb found her clit, matching the rhythm of his movements to the speed he used with his tongue. Tommy had turned her into a moaning mess within a few seconds, holding a different kind of power over her body, a power so strong (y/n) feared she may never be strong enough to ever let him go again. 

Without a warning, Tommy pushed his tongue into her tightness, unable to bite down his smirk widening on his lips as (y/n) called out his name, hands balled into fists, leaving crescent shapes on the skin of her palms. (Y/n)’s eyes were squeezed shut, lips buried in her teeth – a pathetic attempt to stop herself from giving in just yet, not wanting to break the moment she had been longing for for way too long. 

Tommy could tell that she was close, upping the speed of his movements, of the way he circled her pulsing bundle of nerves, of the way he kept using his tongue. Deep down he had tied himself to her the very first day he had met her, set on (y/n) quietly, secretly, hoping that nobody could see through the cold facade he had built to protect himself. She had been Ariadne’s thread, luring Tommy out of his hiding with the sweet smile of hers, with the glistening eyes that seemed to follow him around. 

“Oh fuck, I’m so close, don’t stop, please.” He grinned against her skin as he pushed her over the edge, allowing her to let go, to cum on his tongue and fingers. (Y/n) was trembling, body taken up by the powerful orgasm he pushed through her system, kidnapping her soul to bind her to him, without needing to ask for her permission. 

Her eyes snapped open the second he let go of her, body struggling to breathe through the intense sensation still clinging to her. For a few seconds neither Tommy nor (y/n) dared to speak up, studying one another to figure out where to go from here, but with her hand finding the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, their bodies seemed to snap into motion once again. 

“I’d take you to my bed and fuck you there, but I can’t go any longer without burying myself inside of you, sweetheart.” His raspy voice left her choking, wordlessly staring up at him, watching her professor shuffle out of his dress shirt, trousers soon following. Her eyes followed the movements of his hand, taking in the sight of his hard cock pressing against the fabric of his boxers. “I’ll be right back.”

Her hand shot out to stop him, murmuring a soft “I’m on the pill”, needing to feel his skin pressing against hers. With his teeth buried in his lower lip, the professor stepped out of his boxers, hand pumping his cock, using her arousal to coat himself. The heat in the room kept rising, buzzing through their veins like poison made to kill them, hoping to find shelter in a comforting death like Romeo and Juliet, tied together for eternity. 

“You look so pretty, spread out for me, I’ll need to fuck you on every surface I can find.” His teasing left (y/n) gasping, fingernails clawed into his veiny forearms, keeping him close as he brushed the tip of his cock through her folds. With their eyes connected, Tommy pushed into her, unable to bite down the groan ripping through him. 

Neither Tommy nor (y/n) would ever be able to let go of this moment, longing, aching for it on lonely nights, needing to reach out to one another. He moved slowly, relishing in her closeness, needing to soak up every second he was fortunate enough to experience. Their eyes didn’t dare stray from one another, watching the different expressions tugging on their features, clearly communicating their every need, their every want. A desire they were finally giving into. 

One of his hands clung to her thigh, keeping the leg she had wrapped around his waist close, leaving marks he’d kiss when morning rolls upon them. The way she mewled his name forced him to pick up his pace, hips snapping against hers, burying himself deeper inside of her with every passing moment. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, don’t ever stop touching me.” (Y/n) choked on her words, eyes rolling back into her head, trapped in the darkness he emanated, a personification of all things forbidden, and yet so bittersweet (y/n) knew she’d never be able to let go of him again. Whatever may come upon them, they’d stick to one another, fuelled by the desire keeping them chained together.

Tommy pulled her even closer, allowing his cock to nudge against her sweet spot with every thrust, once again pushing her closer to the edge she had been pushed over moments ago. He murmured soft praises, pushing waves of heat through her, heart swelling once again as he spoke the words that would ring through her head for weeks to come. 

“Doing so well, sweetheart, I got you, it’s okay.” His thumb found her swollen clit once again, rubbing it a few times before (y/n) came on his cock, walls clamping down on him. It took Tommy some more thrusts before he followed her down the edge, painting her walls white as a heavy groan left him. 

Both kept clinging to one another, holding on for dear life without daring to speak up, scared that reality would catch up with them, forcing them to adapt to this very new change. His eyes studied her calm features, trying to read the fucked out gaze swimming in her pupils. Slowly he pulled out of her, lips meeting hers for a sweet kiss. 

“How about a shower?” Both weren’t ready to address what was laying ahead of them just yet, not ready to talk about whatever they’d have to change, if they’d had to change something at all. And yet both found comfort in the thought of doing this together, with their hearts intertwined and their souls wordlessly communicating.

[kittyplushy]

Fireflies

Night/Confession. One month apart yearning and wanting. Finally.

Confession fic!! Enjoy!! Yippee!!! This is a month after something silly happened, so go see what's up with that first..

Should I make a House Guest fic superpost? For people to follow along? Or to reread? Hmmm

Nature has its own spelling of perfection: you call it a pattern. The reoccurring, unmistakable mark of the natural world stays consistent and clean. It stamps itself on the living and the dead to mark its omnipresence. Once we notice it, the image burns itself into our psyche and our hands scramble to replicate it. Consistency is hard to capture, but we try, and we practise, practice, practice, practice…

You could only draw spirals so many times until you see them everywhere.

Under the moonlight, the burgundy of fresh blood looks a little bluer. It leans into a velvet-like shade, and when you squint, it begins to look like rose. I dipped my claw into the pool of blood that collected on a lid and practised drawing a heart again. The cling wrap proved to be an inconsistent canvas. The tails of each heart were either sharper than the last or each scribble began looking like molars. I had drawn fifteen in a row. This was supposed to be a quick night trip but I’ve lost myself in thought of the emerging pattern. I heard a branch snap somewhere and began my work. As I was sawing through the body of a snowy egret girl. Her blood stained her pristine white feathers and light blue top. I was cutting through her thigh when my saw nagged on something hard on its side. I pulled a plastic bag from her pocket. It was full of sand and shells- particularly these pebble-like shells, all marked by a spiral in the middle. I pocketed them all for later.

When I drove back home, my senses were ringing, bothered I might have been caught or snuck up on again. I reassured myself that nothing like the past two years was happening again. Sometimes the venom creeps into my mind and it bites against my only other paranoia. There I was driving back when just a few steps past the Woodbrook welcome sign was a sparkle. It was emerging past the grass and trees. Curiously, I stopped the car in the middle of the road and stepped out into the grass where more began to float. Fireflies.

Stepping into the woods following the bugs, I was greeted by more and more of them surrounding and illuminating the upcoming clearing like a fire. Then my eyes readjusted to the sudden light of the moon that shone on the grass. Then past the petri dish was an even bigger field that shone not just a sparkle, but a swarm of fireflies. The dizzying sight only made the fuzz in my engines worse. I knew the forest around Woodbrook by heart- but tonight it felt so suffocating, swarming, and large. It was larger than I could have remembered.

The next morning, I was back in the store as usual. I did my morning sweeping in and out of the shop as the town began to get itself busy again. The usual faces waved to me and greeted me, and here came the gritted teeth greeting me a good day. Melody Davis came up with somebody in hand. Julianne Lucky’s eyes peeked up and realized they were getting close to the store. She hid her face by looking down to her shoes and covering her face. Melody just smiled at me.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me why Samantha bothers you so much?” I heard her say, not even a distance away from me.

Her gesture wasn’t new to me though. For a whole month, she did every single step in the book to avoid looking at me. She looked down on her shoes, pretend to be aloof, look away abruptly, or avoid my vicinity in any possible way. On the other side of the street, hiding in aisles, wearing a jacket, hiding behind backs. She thinks I couldn’t see her but my mind has been trained to look for pink. I can’t help it anymore.

I had wanted to say hi or call her to break the awkward streak but I didn’t want to startle her. I thought that I’d call January 2nd. That sounded too nosey. Okay, then I’ll call January 5th. No..not today..10? 15? 25..?

I began to get stupidly anxious as well.

But I’ve thought about the kiss. I’ve thought about her suddenly getting so forward. She sat on my lap then wrapped her arms around me. She kissed me still. She looked so gorgeous and raw and plush. So endearingly imperfect. I was never bothered by it, just surprised even though I reciprocated the feeling. Then I felt like kissing her too. I pathetically brushed up against my pillow to kiss it, pretending she was there. Then I was reading through my gay comics to look at dykes like myself kiss. Then I heard more romantic music outside, and everything was punctuated in hearts. It was getting bothering. Repetitive. Mushy.

The lamb was calling for the trap when it had dashed out of it.

I was dreaming of her too. She’s been a part of them, sure, but we hadn’t done anything so forward in them. In the dark theatre on a weekday. No families to see us. Some worthless film reeling. We weren’t in my favorite seat. But Julianne told me the church was nearby so we had to keep it far, far away.

This was the furthest we got and I let her sit on my lap again. We were already getting weary of the distance so I broke the tension and led her lips on mine. I pressed deeper and harder causing her to let out a small moan. I broke away for a moment to look back at her, then continued. It felt exactly as hungry as the first time it happened, and nobody was watching what we were doing. Nobody knew it extended this far when all they understood was friendship or sistership. I whispered to her she should lie if anyone asked what we were doing. She bashfully nodded. The theatre continued to blur and burn and I woke up looking at the ceiling. 

I went to sleep again holding my pillow, pretending again.

.

.

.

This morning I came to Bubbles at Tina’s to get my laundry done. The warm, sterile environment smogged with the smell of detergent and conditioner pulled my mind away from her memory at least for a little bit. The radio is not playing love songs again, thankfully. The five or six people I arrived with all left within 30 minutes, sticking to the timeframe of the rush hour discount they only offered on Mondays from 8 am to 10 am. I still have time.

I was rushing through my collared shirts when a bump was peeking through my grey ones. Falling out of them were five pebble-like shells with the spiral pattern. My mind rang and remembered I had tucked more shells from the egret in my pants. I spent five minutes digging through each pocket to find just another shell with a spiral pattern inside one of them at the bottom of my basket.

Needless to say with the wasted time, I ended up paying full price for laundry that day. She still found ways to worm into my life.

The bell on the door to Tina’s on my last basket fetch to my truck. Talking to the otter helper was a cat in a flowy blue shirt and jeans. She told her she had another bag just outside as she struggled to carry what she just brought in. I picked her second bag up for her and quietly entered, setting it down next to the first. Julianne turned around and her expression immediately tensed. She still profusely blushed, then covered her face.

“Thank you.” She whispered awkwardly.

“No problem, Julianne.” I don’t know why my voice was so stiff. “...I’ll..see you around.”

That came off colder than I expected.

When I came home, I spent minutes looking back at the shells. They were imploring me to just do it. Go on and talk to her. I couldn’t yet. I have laundry to finish packing up tonight. But each warm fabric on my hand was reminiscent of her body. It sounded like her fascinations. It smelled poisonous and territorial. I was surrounded and I couldn’t finish my chore, sitting on the edge of the bed for hours.

The shirt on my hand grew cold. I threw it aside my other unfolded clothes. My hands picked up the shells and pocketed them. Then my body propelled to my keys and into the truck, driving by itself to the red building at the edge of town. Visiting hours was about to close in on me but I entered wordlessly to the top of the complex, banging my forehead into her door. Then my consciousness returned.

Fuck, that was loud.

“Hello?” I heard her ask from behind her door. She slowly opened it and jumped when she saw me.

“S-sam?” She answered the door with a plushie on her hand. She rubbed her eyes and finally looked up at me without hiding in public.

“Hi Julianne. Good evening.”

“It’s so late..they let you in..uhm..do- is..is there anything you need?” The shyness creeps back in. I hold her hands to avoid intuition.

“I need to show you something right now..” I said “Please come with me.”

“Sam, it’s 10 pm, I’m not sure where we’re going..” 

“I can’t show it to you if you don’t come with me tonight. I promise we’ll be quick.”

She blindly left the plush toy behind and locked the door. Dressed in a soft pink nightgown, she held my hand and followed me outside where the cold wind shocked our fur. Julianne remained quiet the entire drive somewhere. I was relying on my memory to find the same spot I wandered into nights ago. I couldn’t tell which tree marked the entry. But the grass was taller outside the town boundaries and the fireflies began emerging from the ground when the truck roared by. I could see her pupils dilate at how many were coming up. Maybe she knew what I was up to tonight, maybe she was just at awe (maybe of how rare they are from where she’s from). I like to think I do things right at least out here in the wild.

Eventually we walked minutes past the welcome sign when my gut told me I went this way. She tightened her grip on my arm passing through the dark corners of trees and branches until we came to the circular clearing, the trees surrounding us to form like the full moon. Julianne took a leap ahead of me to catch a firefly in her hands. She dove and cupped her hands over one, laying in the grass to let it go and see it rise. She tried this hunting method for a bit until she rolled back to look up to the stars. It was cloudy. There was nothing to see, sadly. The lightning bugs made up the sight though- creating temporary and fleeting constellations. I laid back next to her waiting for something to say to start the ritual.

Julianne turns to me with the same bashfulness. She fidgets with her fingers.

“Julianne,” I began, “Why have you been avoiding me?”

She plucked the blades of grass on her side. I saw her relaxed smile wear into a cautious frown.

“I made it so weird. Kissing you suddenly last month.”

“Weird? You’re still my friend, Julianne. I’ve long forgiven you for it. Why are you still so bothered by it..?”

We sat in silence listening to the beetles and crickets sing. I brushed a hand over her hair, brushing and scratching behind her head and ears to bring an instinctive reaction out. She attempted to contain her purring.

“Don’t bully answers out of me, I’m being too obvious..”

“You’re always so obvious..”

She shuts her eyes, feeling her tail curl from behind her and drop on her soft tummy. I felt the shells on my pocket rattle, bringing one out to compare to the poor kitten.

“Shaped like a spiral…you remember? You told me we can only draw so many spirals until they appear everywhere. I see one riiiiight here…” I teased, “You have an interesting pattern.”

“Pattern?”

Julianne sits herself up. The glow of the moon shone past the passing thin clouds. The sky began to clear up again, brightening our dim hideaway. Her half lidded eyes struggled to stay open.

“You know, when I was travelling after college, I’d go from town to town picking up girlfriends who, admittedly, I had a transactional relationship with. I’m not bragging about it or anything- but I was alone and I had little money and getting with them was how I was able to live for a few years in Europe. And in the middle of these encounters, I began to wonder: ‘Huh, why am I sensing a pattern here?’. I wasn’t wrong though: all the ladies I’ve been daing have been cats! Then when I got back home, I stopped dating around for a bit since I had the store to take care of but I couldn’t help but think that it still followed me home even 27 years later.”

I could see her pupils dilate from down here. Her poor mind was beginning to freeze.

“You catch on to that?”

“Do..you like me?”

I furrowed my brows in annoyance. It would be kind of obvious that that’d mean I was similarly attracted to her, right? All of that effort becoming desolate and yet my chest was too heavy to correct her.

Is she letting me go?

“Of course I do. I am your friend.”

“Like..a friend-friend or do you see me as a casual..or..do you..?” 

Julianne knew the answer.

Go say it.

Just say it.

“Well what about you? Do you feel the same too?”

Yes I do. I opened my mouth to speak but I could only exhale. The signals in my mind were beginning to slur again.

“Cause I don’t wanna say..anything..if it’s just casual or platonic..to put a bigger gap between us..” Julianne choked. I slid my fingers between the gaps of her hands then squeezed it.

“What do you have to say?” I already knew what she was thinking. The lamb was creeping closer and closer..

She scraped her knees against the grass as she crawled and laid on top of me, as careful as ever. Her body was shaking.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I love you.” She said to me as fireflies landed on her white fur, “I love you a lot.”

“What?” The pressure in my chest released. I felt light-headed and warm just hearing those sweet words. Is this what it’s really like?

A fever that sweeps by..

Julianne just laughs and rolls off of me realizing what she just said. The same words were at the tip of my tongue. I came over to her side and rolled her back to face me. Her poor face was wet with tears. She was sobbing, giggling, and blushing clearly embarrassed with herself.

“I heard you, you know?” I leaned down closer to her as my voice softened.

“No..no..you’re joking..”

I just smiled.

“Well, say it again so I can hear it better..”

The kudzu that invaded many of our gardens padded her back as the night froze still. There was nothing to hear but cicadas and our breaths. I knew I heard it correctly. I just had to make sure. This should sweeten the deal. 

“I love you.” She said a lot more confidently. My heart burst with a warm feeling. Another lamb walked right into the trap. 

My hands reached up wipe her tears. They trailed to her own hands to hold them against the grass. I carefully pressed my chest against hers. Her face reddened, confused as to what I was doing.

“Close your eyes..” 

Cupping her cheeks I brought her lips closer to mine and laid gently but despairingly. It felt so desperate, perhaps lasting hours and hours. Her hand reached up to hold the small of my back inviting me closer. I could feel it. Every vein. Every cell. Every drop working overtime to contain itself. 

She let go of my lips moments later giggling uncontrollably. I just looked at her in amusement. Her excited little flaps made her look like a circus seal. I’m endeared to such stupid things, unfortunately.

“You too!?” She smiled, “You too!”

“Yes, me too. I love you too.” It slipped out of me accidentally.

She leaped up to hug me and hung her arms on my neck playfully like a scarf. I caught her and held her up like a plush. 

“Ahh yes…I was worried you would tell people I did that to you.”

“You did tell Melody about me though, did you?” 

Her smile froze before she stiffly nodded.

“Just a little…I needed some advice from my sister. I guess this means we’re girlfriends now?”

“Yeah.” I said, “Then we can pretend that that was our first kiss if it’ll make you feel better, Julianne..is it okay if I come to your apartment again?”

“You can sleep over tonight!..uh..shit, wait.” She murmured realizing that she came with nothing but herself.

“Forgot your keys?”

“Yeah. I have a spare with Ms. Humphrey but it’s like..12 am now- I’m not waking up my landlady.”

“That’s fine. We can just sleep at the back of my truck tonight. Let’s drive it to the back of the store or..somewhere still out here so you can still see the fireflies.”

Julianne was still distracted though. She cups her hands to catch a nearby firefly and peeks into the tiny gaps of her paws to see it upclose before releasing it. For a second it was like there were stars in her eyes. She does look better with warm light. Like the pinks of a sunset.

“You heard me, right?”

“Ah, yeah, we could but could it fit us both?”

I nodded, wrapping an arm around her again as we made our way back to the road.

“It’ll be comfortable enough.”

.

.

.

"Does it feel good?"

"It..feels alright.." Julianne sounded like she was lying. She adjusted herself for the third time, arranging again the duffle bag pillow behind her head. I chuckled and pulled her close to me, embracing her head and waist. 

"Naw, don't lie. It wasn't alright. Now is this alright?"

"E-even better.." She stuttered.

I kissed her forehead before ruffling her fur. She began to purr with delight.

"You're just too easy and sweet to turn down. I'm sorry you had to wait this long."

In return, she planted her face tight into my chest and continued purring.

"I waited..so long to have this with you..I even fantasized about it, honestly..."

"No need to be ashamed about it now." I whispered. "Besides, here nobody can see us except you and me. Far away from churches or homes...with the wind and the stars...Nature can feel us..."

Indeed, nature could hear us too. Like everything it deems worthy, I called it a pattern finally finishing at the apex. The eye of a spiral. The end. 

Perfect.

[barrenclan]

RAAINHAAZEE ISSSUEEE

the issue starting with deepdark just going to his murderous colleagues and saying “wanna act with me”… deepdark theater kid is not something i expected for patfw but makes sense.

CUPID RETURN!!! rainhaze and him having a little fun banter… aaaa. i don’t wanna get attached to cupid because what if cupid is also using him but-… silly raccoon guy. the fox also once being one of rainhaze sit buddies hurts :(((

HERE IS THE PAGE!!!! THE BEAST!!! its so fun how many defiancesonas/ocs u fit in here, it’s such a treat to be on patfwcord!!!

DEEPLINGS REAL!!! hyssop looks like such a little shit i love him.. AND DEEPDARK!!!!!!!! him calling them his friends and wishing him warm welcomes.. i’m sure i’m not the only one who didn’t expect him to present himself so.. friendly? but he’s a theater kid so it makes sense, yeah. it being referred to as a family tho… cult red flag?

THEY DISRESPECT FANG?? IN FRONT OF ME?? MY FAMILY??? SHAME!!! JAIL FOR A HUNDRED YEARS!!

BEAR WAS LONGEST CLAWS!!!! thank u patfw discord my ass could have never theorized that hard. i can’t really tell if deepdark just wanted to be dramatic and cool or if he just wanted to spar with his buddies and trashtalk longest claws.. perhaps both..

and especially with the story changing ever so slightly, at first deepdark calling himself his current name and then prowl acting proud of deepdark when in reality he wanted vengeance… history is really what the victor makes of it, isn’t it? and prowl and spike so easily going along.. deepdark really changed them too.

THE QUOTE!! ATE OF HIS FLESH!! DRANK OF HIS BLOOD!!!! HE EATA THE HEARTA!!!! IM SOOOOO EXCITED THIS IS THE TIME THIS IS THE MOMENT AAAAAAAA

yes the rainhaze trauma- love the connections between deepdark’s story and the truth and what rainhaze’s imaginations are and the truth, him imagining dustfeather happily taking a nap instead of bleeding out and him being happy instead of terrified of himself.. and i know it’s meant to be sad for him but honestly.. get her ass rainhaze

i love this page and much like deepdark eats the flesh i shall eat this art and it tastes good. keep up the great work o777

Deepdark is a dramatic king through and through.

God, man, the big cameo panel on page 2 took me so long to finish. But I liked getting to draw all the animal species.

Deepdark is very performative, and with such a violent group, he has to make sure they all feel welcome, and more importantly loyal to him. His lieutenants help enforce that.

All the theorizing about Longest-Claws was so so fun for me. And they caught on so fast! Very nice. Actually, we will in fact learn why Deepdark chose to talk about Longest-Claws and the origins of Defiance in an upcoming issue!

Getting to that quote I thought up all those months ago was a real treat. Here's the original art that accompanied it, for anyone who didn't see it:

[uhhhhyandere]

I have been a long time reader of Orphic and I just seen you updated the sequel almost 11 months ago! I just started rereading and now as an adult I have a few new Headcanons that I wanted to say! I love you and I will be in touch for the upcoming updates ❤️

-If light never got the Death Note, him and the reader would have gotten together in a normal way. I think there was a natural magnetism they stare together and chemistry that works for them as teens and young adults. Like why was the first person the reader used to cover herself was light or why light almost immediately makes her an accomplice to scheme. Maybe in a different world they would have been a normal couple and not Yandere control trip that Death note light their in now.

-talking about teenage years, Light has always had a crush on reader. A smart, snarky, and independent girl who didn’t worry about hurting his feelings. There is no way he didn’t crush on her even if he wasn’t aware of it. Like the reader is a foil for Misa in every way, maybe why his obsession got more twisted while she was away. Distance makes the heart grow fonder.

-with that being said, I believe light has always seen reader as his queen of this new world he wants to create. Like with every other girl, he just knew he didn’t want them like he wanted reader. At some level, he as some kind of respect for her intelligence for figuring him out but also just kind of lusted after her in a way. Because why didn’t he just kill her when he had so many chances to kill or always kept her in the loop of his plans before L died, he just needed her to be a sound board without any real opinion. He sees her like Hera to his Zeus, she is a lesser god but it doesn’t make her less of a god to others. Well, the others thought he seen them as equal gods, the reader never gave Light the benefit of the doubt of thinking he thought she was an equal.

-At some level, the reader is lowkey into him being a killer tbh

-I think Light does love reader at some level even if it’s narassitic and self rewarding. Like when reader isn’t looking or is asleep, he watches over her like 🥺 because she never betrayed him or let it slip that he was Kira to anyone important. Light seems to love the loyalty and the “devotion” the reader gives without trying

saw these when you initially submitted and OMG had to step away from the puter and do a lap.

will get to continuing the sequel once i graduate (my last degree ever) and have the time to for sure, but i think there's a lot to speculate on the reader/light dynamic and whether they actually love each other and their own kind of perspective and definition of love, and i tried to encapture its complexity (best i could when i was 17-18 years old haha) now that im so old and wise hopefully when i resume working on the sequel (which isn't planned to be as long as the OG) i can use my developed cerebral cortex to better show it. I think OFC she's lowkey into it - bc i think in light of the death he's caused there's just no logical way fear on its own keeps her with the killer of her brother and father. at that point, you lose so much, just fucking report him?? but no. another tough thing to juggle is light's relationships with others and how to capture someone in a relationship w/ someone when in the original IP he simply uses love and sex as another tool. But at the same time i think a huge draw to his char, reader and his relationship, and their whole dynamic is the ambiguity. unlike in the show, we can't get a read into his head (and lord knows reader is unreliable as they come) so we just have to be like . . . "light what was that . . . " Thanks for sending this in, taking time to write it all out, and reading the work i put into this world. i hope one day to be back to writing, as it sparks a joy in me that hasn't been filled since college.

[srslythis-ismylife]

Out of Frame- BTS xReader TEASER

Director!ReaderxOT7 FilmProducer!ReaderxOT7 Dancer!ReaderxOT7 Choreographer!ReaderxOT7

“Run! Bangtan USAAAAAaaaa”, Jungkook yelled while lifting his arms like an airplane and running towards you and the camera.

“And cut!”, You yelled with a laugh as the cameraman hit the button and the recording light shut off. Turning your attention to the iPad in front of you to make sure that enough coverage was shot for today, you fail to notice that Jungkook continued to run past the camera, picking you up as you were scrolling through today’s shotlist.

“Jungkook!” you protested feeling embarrassed.

“Ah- ah…Jungkook what? Is there no respect?” Jungkook says while continuing to run you over to the rest of the boys.

You rolled your eyes, “Jungkook seunbaenim” you said.

“Ew! No thats so formal” he retorted while carrying you over to the other members

“We’re at work?” you question

“Yes, but we're also friends aren’t we? Like we call Bang PD Hyung”

“Yeah but if we were following formalities you’d be calling me PD-nim”, you chuckle while looking at Namjoon over Jungkook’s shoulder with a “help me” look in your eyes.

“She’s right this is unprofessional Jungkook, put PD-nim down!” Namjoon ordered the younger one.

“You didn't have an issue with being unprofessional last night…” Jungkook softly grumbled as he set you down in front of Jimin.

A smack immediately met him to the back of the head by Jin

“Thanks Hyung”, Namjoon said looking sheepishly at you.

Jimin immediately wrapped his arms around you, peeking over the shoulder at your iPad.

You sighed but accepted the hug as Jimin put his cheek on the top of your head and asked, “are we done for the day?”

“Yeah, THATS A WRAP FOR TODAY!” you yell as everyone erupts into cheers, including Jimin who lifts his arms up celebrating.

You quickly scuttle away trying to get away from your boys and taking a look at the schedule for Monday. Namjoon’s long legs quickly catch up to you as he falls into step beside you.

“Do you want to ride back to the hotel in the same car?”he eagerly questioned. You smiled down at your iPad still looking at the the 5am call time for Monday. You wanted to say yes but it was only your first month working as a producer and director for Run! BTS USA and you really did not want to raise any more red flags to the rest of the crew. Everyone knew you were friends with the boys beforehand, having been a choreographer and creative director in Korea, but as a female friend you really didn’t need anyone to call HR on your close friendship with the boys.

“I still have some stuff to sort out before heading back, you go ahead and I’ll see you later maybe ok?”

“ah-ok! Please don’t work to hard PD-nim” Namjoon says with a professional nod. But you can tell he’s a bit disappointed, you try your best to hide your smile at the fondness you have for this man as you remember where this all started.

1 year ago

You paced back and forth looking at your laptop screen, ignoring cafegoers stares as you as you try to get your creative ideas to coalesce. You had been trying to develop this pitch deck for hours and you just can’t find the right reference shots for a few slides. You continue to wrack your brain thinking of what else to type into your search engines to find something closer to the reference shots you want. You sigh and decide to give up on trying to find the perfect reference shot as you sit back down because one too many Koreans in the cafe were staring at you. You had been at the cafe since the morning working, emailing and taking meetings with crews for upcoming projects in pre-production, writing, and working on your pitches.

As you open up your iPad and begin shittily drawing the shot you’re envisioning you see a text from your friend pop up on you laptop screen “class at 6 still? Choreo after? Lmk now so I can book the studio”. You text her back that you’re still down as you begin to play the song you’re developing choreography to while you continue to try to draw the shot you want. You stand your iPad up next to your laptop looking at your shitty drawing before laughing and leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes. You let the music play and you let your body casually move thinking up ideas for your choreo session later, focusing on your arms as you were sitting down and trying not to draw attention to yourself as a brown foreigner in Korea.

A tap on your shoulder startles you as you open your eyes to see a man wearing a mask pointing at your screens. You quickly remove your headphones as you squint at the person speaking to you, feeling like they are familiar somehow. They are speaking in Korean.

You embarrassedly rattle off one of the only Korean phrases you know perfectly. “Sorry, what was that? I don’t speak Korean well.”

I’ve never done this before but I started writing this as a brain cleanse from everything else I’m writing pls lmk if you want me to keep writing I already have some more than this

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Breaking the Class Ceiling Chapter 4

This is set in early 1900s U.S.A., during the Edwardian era with some style changes into the upcoming Art Nouveau period. I've changed history a bit for this. Pretending that America didn't have a full Civil War and trying to create a more optimistic outcome for the purposes of the story. I've also tried to research what the rules for society/socializing were back then, and tweaked some of them.

Warnings for upcoming chapters: minor character death, some sexual harassment/assault (but nothing too graphic or traumatic), smut

Previous chapter Next chapter

*smut (ish) in this chapter

Rumor had quickly spread of what happened at the party, and out of embarrassment and public ridicule Rumlowe and Pierce quickly left to go out west to “find new opportunities.”  

Everyone’s attention was now fixed on the World Fair.  It started in April and was ending in December in St. Louis.  You were planning a trip and had invited multiple people in your social circle, including Steve and Bucky.

“You must come, my darling,” you cooed at him as you flitted around your drawing room, making plans and riddling off a list of things to pack to the maid who was furiously writing.

“You know I can’t afford a trip to St. Louis, my love,” Bucky sighed quietly.

“You won’t be paying for it, dearest, I will,” you announced with no room for argument.

“I can’t miss work,” he said.  “Mr. Fury has many contracts he needs me to take care of in these next few months.  The holidays are coming up, too.  I can’t take so much time off before then.”

“Oh pish posh,” you waved him off.  “You can quit your job.  I’ll pay you to be my personal escort,” you quickly twirled in front of him, “in more ways than one,” you winked at him.

Bucky laughed as the maid in the corner blanched at your innuendo.  “You’d pay me to be your date?” he asked incredulously.  “No, Y/N, besides I like my job, I need to earn my own way.”

“Ugh,” you groaned, plopping down on your knees in front of him where he sat.  He gulped.  “You are refusing my gifts again?  My darling, I told you to learn to accept my gifts.  I have plenty.  And if you must earn it,” you shuffled closer to him, setting your chin on his knee, looking up at him innocently, “then why not earn it by being the best beau to me while on vacation?”  

Bucky gulped again, watching you carefully as you sat looking up at him.  As much as he enjoyed these (mostly) private moments, they were a tease, causing a kind of itch in his lower abdomen that he more than once had to relieve when he arrived home after spending time at your house.  As if sensing his hesitation, you glanced at the maid.  “Bessy, could you give us a moment’s privacy please?”

Bessy sniffed indignantly as she booked it out of the room, closing the door behind her.  When the coast was clear you lifted your head and then placed your hands on his knees, sliding them up his thighs slowly as you gave him a doe-eyed stare.  His breath stopped as he watched you, his own hands had a death grip on the arms of the chair he sat on.  Your hands slid close to his core, which was pulsing.  He tried to shift away so you wouldn’t see but it didn’t deter you.  You scratched your fingernails down his legs as you slid your hands back down.  

“Will you come with me to St. Louis?” you asked in a voice that was feigning innocence.

Bucky’s hips stuttered as your hands started to slide up again, this time your right hand rubbing his inner thigh right next to his throbbing cock.

“Y/N, you…mmmh,” he moaned lightly, sounding strangled as he tried to stop himself.  “We can’t, it’s not…we’re not married,” he mumbled, losing coherence quickly.   

“Yet,” you corrected, your fingers sliding until they slightly stroked his cock through his pants.  He moaned again, his hand flying to your wrist to stop you.  “Will you come with me to St. Louis?” you asked again, this time standing, hiking up your dress and straddling his lap before he could stop you.  You ran your hands up his chest and wrapped your arms around his neck, dipping your head down to the crook of his neck and kissing it repeatedly.  Without much thought he brought his hands to your hips, keeping you over his cock as he cautiously rutted up into you.  Your kisses became more heated and you sucked on different spots, making Bucky’s eyes roll back in his head.  You made your way to his ear, your breath tickling his neck, then you nipped his earlobe, making him whimper lightly.  “I’m your job now, my darling,” you said in an authoritative and husky tone.  Bucky nodded.  “You’ll come with me to St. Louis,” you continued.  He nodded again, gritting his teeth as he rutted up harder into your clothed center.  “I will pay you for your troubles, since my company is apparently less important than writing contracts,” you tugged his shirt down and gave a broad lick from his collar bone to his ear, sucking on his earlobe.  He whimpered louder.

“No troubles, doll, my pretty doll, please,” he begged, his hands kneading your thighs now.  “I’ll do whatever you want, just please.”

“Please what, darling?” you teased, peppering soft kisses across his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, down his chin, and so close to his lips but without actually touching them.  

“Oh God, please, I need to, to…” he trembled beneath you as your hands stroked through his hair, scratching at the nape of his neck.

“Go ahead, darling,” you gave him permission, your lips hovering over his mouth.  You ground down on his lap a few times, which was enough for him to finally burst.  His hips shook as his head fell back, his eyes screwed shut and his mouth slack as he panted.  As he finished in his trousers he pulled you in close, setting his forehead against your forehead, noses nuzzling each other as he came down from his high.  “Very good, my love.  You’re so handsome like this,” she teased as she gave his nose a small peck.

“I love you, Y/N,” Bucky sighed, his embrace tightening around you.

You let out a sound of surprise, looking at him with wide eyes.  “I know we are not engaged, but none of what we’ve done in this courtship is traditional, so to hell with it.  I love you.  I think of you constantly.  I want nothing more than to spend every waking moment with you.”

“I feel the same, Buck,” you said, a wide smile on your face. 

“So if you want to employ me to do so, then I accept.  Though I’d happily do it for free,” he gave you a mischievous smile.  You snorted at him as you rolled your eyes.

“What’s your going rate, Barnes?” 

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Mosaic - Fragments Iván Mas

wada sez: Yesterday, I shared a couple-dozen assorted previews for Mosaic strips which never saw completion. One artist, however, accounted for almost that many abortive strips all by himself! As I've mentioned in the past, Iván Mas was a prolific Mosaic contributor who often clashed with Mosaic leads Josh van Reyk and Shaun Knowler over their editorial policies. While sharing previews, he constantly expressed frustration over the months-long delay for comics being shared by the project. It's hard to say why most of these strips never saw the light of day, or how far along they were to completion: perhaps some simply slipped through the cracks! As Iván Mas is a true auteur, a real perfectionist, it wouldn't surprise me if he was simply unhappy with the end result for a few of these. I've done my best to translate relevant comments of his.

Untitled Animated Bulkhead comic [2007-09-20]

"May be a small teaser of an upcoming mosaic featuring the new TF Animated characters"

"Subtle Touch" (Death's Head) [2007-09-21, 2007-10-02]

"Light Awakening" (Optimus Prime) [2008-02-05]

"Versus" (Megatron & Optimus Prime) [2008-05-31]

"Iron" (Man of Iron) [2008-07-07]

Untitled Leozack comic [2008-08-10]

"Decepticons Power" (Overlord) [2008-10-09, 2008-10-09]

"Panel 1 of a Mosaic that I am making (another one) at the moment I have 12 on the computer that… have not been shown yet, I don't know if it is worth continuing making…. anyway I am making this one so that Vero, one of the colorists who has given us a hand on the mosaic theme can distract herself…. she expressed her desire to continue doing things and like her friend Rafa, she seems to have a lot of work… In any case, the drawing is not finished, some things need to be touched up… and above all, the background."

"A teaser of the mosaic that I suppose you will see some year in the next centuries….. I'm bored………. …………………………………. …………………………………."

"Duality" (Silverbolt) [2008-11-20]

"Eeeeh… well… a mosaic that I don't know if I'll end up doing, lately I've been quite busy so I've put the topic aside, however I have quite a few in the can… so… I don't think there will be much of a problem…"

Untitled Megatron comic [2009-01-14]

"Well… here's a discarded Megatron panel for a mosaic… it seemed unnecessary to the rhythm and inconsequential, besides the fact that I don't like the drawing too much. I guess because of all that, I didn't put any effort into it either…. It's out."

Untitled Kup comic [2009-01-18]

"Well, the title is quite self-explanatory, isn't it?…. a design for a mosaic that I hope I will be able to start preparing soon on Kup."

"New Ages" (Starscream) [2009-01-30]

"Well then… the truth is that I have quite a few mosaics scattered all over the place waiting to be translated or painted… it annoys me and disgusts me a little because I have to show things in dribs and drabs, the subject goes on forever and at this rate they will release it on the official page by 2050.

"That's partly why lately you'll see that I do them alone, if I give them to someone to paint it's possible that because of what people do, the thing will take forever…

"This problem is more personal and unreal than anything else, the truth is that it exasperates me not knowing or having a date to deliver or finish these things, I don't know if it is my defect or what, but I am very strict with deadlines and so on, obviously Yes, I am that way with myself as well with others, although I already said, yes to me, but I cannot demand anything from the rest, as is logical.

"So the fact of making a mosaic by myself means that I can control the deadlines at all times, and thus remain calmer in this aspect.

"That's why you will see that I don't stop putting previews or panels… as I said today I have 7 finished mosaics on my part… and they are waiting to be finished… and I'm doing 5 more… that's what I want To say that if I painted those that I have pending I probably wouldn't be able to draw those 5 so I won't give much more, a shame.

"In reference to the image, I must say that it is Starscream.. I honestly don't know if I will leave it in gray or in color.. for what I intend in the mosaic, perhaps it would do better with color.. but the results like this are not bad….

"However, a note, I don't like transformers with lips… that is, not like I've done them here… does that mean that I don't like this drawing? Well… it's not that I'm excited about it. , but it's not that bad either.

"However, with Starscream I have a problem… since he is a big mouth and a bit effeminate, unconsciously I always mark his lips a lot… but it's funny, it only happens to me with him, so I take it more as a detail that defines a bit. the personality of the character more than anything else, and it also helps to minimally distinguish between Skywarp and Thundercracker, so it is possible that… if you look closely, although you may not like it at all, this detail is not entirely bad.

"About the story… I can't tell you too much, logically… since… it's a page and I'll tell you what it's about…"

"Human Component: Ginrai" [2009-06-29]

"Here's a sketch about how I plan to draw Ginrai in the Human Component, a small character study… I wasn't planning on uploading it now, but since I don't know when you'll be able to see it… here's a little preview. I know it's not a big deal… but the page will be better.

"In theory, the style of this drawing is the same as that of the mosaic… so… I thought I wanted to make a color page painted with traditional watercolor."

Untitled Wilder/Shuta comic [2006-12-30, 2010-05-11, 2010-06-02]

wada sez: I've also included the very first piece of fanart shared on Iván's deviantART, which depicts Wilder!

"A long time ago I started a mosaic about this man… I may not finish it, but I wanted to give my version of this character.

"The Japanese guy was fine, but he had the eighties and effeminate air of that time, for a tough guy, a thug, he had too fine features, a perfect complexion, and a neat style, I can't imagine a gang member physically like that.

"I kept the characteristic features, such as the hair covering the eye and the tape, although here it is not appreciated too much, and I tried to give it a more serious, more realistic, and harder touch… I based myself a little on the actor Toshiro Mifune from the Hidden Fortress, for example.

"I think that this way, he physically passes more for being a "bad" gang member etc…"

"Well… a quick design that I made for a page that I have pending… and that will not be finished… about a preview of a Wilder against Shuta fight….

"I already showed you another of the panels a few days ago… the one in which we saw Wilder angry…

"So… if I were to make a comic about transformers… it would be something pretty similar to this.

"As you can see, I went from line art… as I always say, if the drawing is done in ink, in color, the only thing it can do is win… the colorist has to be very bad for it to not look good.

"Also… this type or style of robot, with well-drawn humans and rich backgrounds, I think would make a Transformers comic seen through different eyes, and not as a third-category comic.

"As you can see, it is a more serious, more adult and more realistic style, it is clearly Masterforce, a series that due to the incompetence of some, lack of judgment on the part of others and lack of general vision… I fear that it will fall eternally into oblivion, except for a few fans. A shame.

"It is somewhat reminiscent of the Bay or Figueroa style, but being less complicated, it maintains the characteristic features of G.1

"It doesn't look bad at all, for a quick design.

Untitled "TF3 Mosaic" (Scourge) [2011-07-08, 2011-07-11]

"A small contact with the character for a mosaic that I want to do, the truth is that in the movie he is very lackluster in the face of so many robots, however his potential, just like it had in the original series, is very great.

"Some time ago I made a mosaic about the Constructicons, directly in Photoshop, with a somewhat, let's say "conceptual" style, well, that was a small test to do other things of this type.

"To finish off the drawing a little and make it more of an illustration, I added a background of Chicago manipulated with a little color characteristic of the bad guys or this Shockwave.

"I feel that the resolution is not as good as it should be, but the original is too heavy."

"Fast design for a mosaic character. Yes, it´s Scourge in movie style.... not bad."

wada sez: And that's all! I was tempted to reach out to Iván to see if he could share any more material from these strips, but he hasn't been active on deviantART in almost a decade, and I suspect that he canned many of them for a reason. Still, it's an interesting window into his creative process and mindset regarding Mosaic as an endeavour!

[loonarii]

Ari's K-Pop Roundup: March 2024 (ILLIT, ARTMS, CHUNGHA, VCHA + MORE)

Check out last months installment here :) sidenote: sorry about this episode being a bit heavy on the smaller reviews - have been experiencing a cruel and unusual combination of illness and exam season lol - next month will hopefully be slightly better

Magnetic - ILLIT (SUPER REAL ME)

Whether you watched HYBE's 2023 idol survival show 'R U Next?' or you had the self preservation to skip it, if you were into k-pop at that time, you definitely heard about it. The show gained attention from the community originally because it was from HYBE, the newest, and arguably currently the most influential k-pop company goliath, and because HYBE's girl groups (notably Le Sserafim and NewJeans) are famous for influencing the kpop scene instantly upon debut, and maintaining their spots in the top 10s of the charts for many months. This was HYBE giving us a look behind the curtain at the making of the next big girl group, and letting us call a lot of the shots along the way. Or at least that's what it was supposed to be. Rigging in these type of idol shows is practically expected, but HYBE was a new offender, and their crimes weren't only frequent, but pretty obvious. The fans protested, but nothing changed. ILLIT, the group that emerged on the other side, was a group that was hardly a showcase of the talent on display on the show, nor a reflection of the fans and their biases. It was a reflection of who the producers felt fit their pre-established concept for the group, an influencing factor that wasn't made clear to the fans watching, nor potentially, to the idols participating. Ironically, since the whole point of a survival show is to drum up support and build a fanbase for a group's upcoming debut, ILLIT has arguably started off on a worse foot than if they had just dropped 'Magnetic' on YouTube out of nowhere, NewJeans 'Attention' style.

However, regardless of their rocky start, ILLIT is here, with their debut mini album 'SUPER REAL ME', featuring the title track 'Magnetic' - let's talk about it. 'Magnetic' capitalizes on that glitchy, 8-bit, distorted, bedroom pop sound that's been blowing up recently, both in the k-pop industry by NewJeans, LOONA, and tripleS, and in the western space by Pinkpantheress. It's easily catchy, and highly danceable, and the members sound amazing on it - I felt especially drawn to Minju's delivery, her vocal tone is beautifully unique, and Wonhee did a stellar job as the centric member of the choruses. Magnetic's allusions to NewJeans are undeniable, if only lacking that certain NewJeans je ne sais quoi. I don't really have a problem with this, if I get more fun songs out of groups allegedly 'copying' NewJeans then it's a win for me, my only fear is that if ILLIT doesn't find their own niche they will be called knock-off NewJeans for the rest of their careers, which isn't fair to the girls. TripleS got accused of something similar back with AAA's 'Generation', but since then they have carved out a space for themselves in the industry, making music and exploring aesthetics others aren't.

As for the b-sides, I was kind of obsessed with 'My World', even though it is functionally an intro; it's such an unexpected earworm. 'Midnight Fiction' is cute, even if I think it needed another hook or layer of production to elevate it more. 'Lucky Girl Syndrome' is slightly better than 'Midnight Fiction', but a bit worse than 'Magnetic'. It's very obvious that the title came before the track, and it bizarrely sounds kind of like 'Sensitive' by Loossemble? The chorus is slightly weak, but I am obsessed with the instrumentation and the production choices - this song sounds nothing like NewJeans, I really hope they draw from this vibe in their future releases.

Overall, a pretty decent debut. You will definitely catch me streaming 'Magnetic' over the next few weeks, whether it will have the longevity to stick around in my playlist for longer remains to be seen. Good luck ILLIT, you've had a rough start in the industry, but it's clear that they have a big career ahead of them, and I for one, am seated.

Pre1: Birth - ARTMS [LOONA] (Dall)

After an iconic run of Haseul and Heejin's solo projects, as well as ODD EYE CIRCLE's first release out of BBC, 5/12 of the LOONA girls are here as ARTMS. 'Birth' is a song that operates outside of the conventions of kpop formulae; its experimental, confrontational, melancholy and bears an undercurrent of rage. Tonally and structurally it is unique from anything being released right now, and lyrically its compelling and mysterious. If this is a taste of what the upcoming album is going to sound like, I am extremely excited.

The music video is one of the best kpop has to offer - its so unlike anything else I have seen. I heavily encourage you all to go check out the theories the orbits/ouriis have been cooking up because LOONA LORE IS BACK!! I am very curious if the loossemble lore will link to this in any way, but that remains to be seen.

EENIE MEENIE - CHUNG HA, feat. HONGJOONG

Chungha is back, with a new company and an old concept. I'm not sure how to feel about this track, its clear she feels very confident in this style and it does suit her more than 'Sparkling', but I think 'Sparkling' was overall a better song. The production of 'Eenie Meenie' is very high quality and I especially loved that guitar layer in the chorus, and bringing Hongjoong in for a verse was a great call, he fits the song and matches Chungha's vibe perfectly. Unfortunately however, I don't find the chorus to be very catchy, which is clearly what the song is banking on in order to chart. The whole 'eenie meenie minie mo' thing is odd, but honestly could have been worse if this song had been given to anyone other than Chungha, the real death sentence for this song was the lack of interesting melody. I'm happy that Chungha is now making the kind of music she wants to, I just hope that the quality of releases go up in the future.

Only One - VCHA

Who knew that when Fifty Fifty crumbled due to their (allegedly) god awful company, it would be VCHA of all groups to successfully pick up the retro girlpop gauntlet?? 'Only One' is genuinely so fun, that post chorus is a killer, and even the mildly awkward writing clears up after the first verse. The girls have such great chemistry, and they are all genuinely improving their skills every comeback, and although I may have questioned JYP's decision to debut girls who had barely been in training, seeing the girls improve in real time is lowkey actually a selling point - like now I want to pay attention to them to see how good they are going to get?? JYP making an intelligent marketing decision?? In this economy?? Congratulations VCHA, you have officially established yourself as a force to be reckoned with, KATSEYE had better bring the heat when they debut to compete with this.

MINI REVIEWS:

Get Goin' - aespa: did you know this song existed? no! Is it surprisingly really fun? well yes! not sure what aespa has to do with fraggle rock, but if it takes Apple TV spamming SM Entertianment's dms to get aespa to release more music, then that's what must be done.

The knight who can't die and the silk cradle - LUCY: (req. by @a-moth-to-the-light) I've always been mildly aware of LUCY, but until my moot requested I review their latest release, I had never heard any of their songs. Needless to say, I was severely impressed. This song is so cinematic and heartfelt - to my knowledge it isn't part of an OST to a particularly cinematic kdrama, but it might as well be. I heavily encourage you all to go watch the mv with subtitles on, or read the translation, because lyrically this is a masterpiece. LUCY, you have officially caught my attention, I will be checking out future releases.

Paths to home - 문채원, HOWUS: The music video for this song, at time of writing, currently has 147 views, I have no clue how I stumbled across it, but I am so glad I did. 'Paths to home' is a beautifully constructed and performed citypop inspired track that to me evokes LOONA's early discography, especially those from Hyunjin's solo project. It is so perfectly constructed to my tastes, I love it to death. I have no idea how 'HOWUS' as a project works, I don't know if it's a group, a company, a subunit, or apparently even when it was released because according to some websites it came out in 2022 (the struggles of extremely nugu kpop cannot be understated), but what I do know is that this song deserves more attention, and I adore it. This is one for the NewJeans, LOONA yyxy, tripleS +(KR)ystal Eyes girlies.

Wish You Hell - WENDY (Red Velvet): SM finally gave Wendy a song that isn't a ballad!!! This song is pretty fun, but I wish it bit more oomph. The lyrics leave much to be desired, but Wendy's vocal performance is naturally very high quality, although I wish she went a bit harder in some sections - she's singing about wishing someone hell, but tonally it sounds like she's serenading them lol. A fun song, could have been better with another few drafts. Seulgi's 'best Red Velvet solo project' crown is yet to slip.

BBB - Purple Kiss: I will never shut the fuck up about how good 'Zombie' is, so seeing them explore similar sounds is so exciting for me!! 'BBB' is a very easy going listen, never awkward, never unpleasant, and although I think it needed a little something more to elevate it, it's a fun song I could easily see myself loving this summer. Swan absolutely ate up this comeback btw.

XXL - YOUNG POSSE: Bizarre sfx aside, I am very glad young posse is attempting to bring back 2000s hip hop into kpop, even if the execution is mildly clunky.