#since most people following me seem to have found me through that story

[fefern]

✧˖° first dates with them. | lingyang, m!rover, jiyan headcanons.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ synopsis: going on a first date is always nerve wracking, yet can also be exciting! what's it like for these boys to take you out on your first date together?

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ characters involved (separate): lingyang, male rover, jiyan, and a gender neutral reader.

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ warnings: none!

⋆ ˚☁️ ⁀➴ notes: hello! coming to you live with my first post for wuwa! just some cute little headcanons with the boys on first dates with you because i love planning dates out ;;!! requests are open if you want to talk or have me write something!! ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡)

Lingyang

Lingyang has never been more excited or nervous to hang out with someone, even more so since this was his first date with you. 

As someone who always seemed to fear being different from the humans around him, he felt extra self-conscious when he looked in the mirror and adjusted his outfit. Did he look alright? Were you going to enjoy this as much as he thought he would? Will everything go well? What if you decided you changed your mind and didn’t want to date someone of his species?

His first date gift for you would be a small lion plushie. Cute and fluffy with vibrant colors, he’d hold it out in front of him and shut his eyes tight, anxiety flowing through him. “These are for you! That way, when you miss me, you can hug this! If you want to, no pressure!” 

He’d be ecstatic when you took it into your hands and held it throughout your date together, happily looking between you and the plush and feeling his cheeks turn a rosy pink that you two were going out together. 

He’d probably take you to the best food spots all around Jinzhou, ranting about which dishes to try or who had his favorite foods. He’d want to get to know you more, curious and nervous as he’s asking you about your likes, dislikes, what your daily life is like in Jinzhou. Lingyang would walk and eat with you along the way, practically enamored by anything you did or said. 

His tail would swish fast back and forth whenever you were talking. Even if it’s something you found mundane, he couldn’t help but be happy just listening to you speak. His ears will also be very reactive around you, usually up but always reacting accordingly to whenever you’d tell a story or joke with him. 

He’ll let you pet him if you want to, he trusts you after all. His cheeks flush a soft pink and he lets out a small purr when you do so, finding himself growing a bit shyer at the sweet touch. He also feels a tad embarrassed by it, so you’ll have to pry his hands away as he childishly hides the way he’s turning red from you. 

He seems a little bit sad when you two do have to part, but when you ask him when the next one would be, a hopeful look emerges in his eyes as he begins to excitedly make plans to see you again and take you on another date. 

Other Points:  - Will jump in place when super excited to tell you something while on the date.  - Would point to some random cute things on your walk and go, “That reminds me of you!” - Happy to talk about lion dancing with you, and if you show more interest in it, he’ll offer to give you your own personal show one day!

Rover (Male)

Considering he is a person that just woke up in a strange world with no memories of his past or who he is, he is a bit lost on the idea of what to do during a date with you. Were there rules he had to follow? Did people in Jinzhou have certain taboos or ways that they executed dates?

He’d most likely ask all around the city in order to find out what to do or where to take you. He wanted to make sure the experience was good after all, not something that the both of you would dread. 

When he meets up with you, his hair is a bit more put together than usual and he stands up tall, giving you a small smile as he gently takes your arm and links it with his. 

“Take me around the city. Show me how you see the world through your eyes.”

His first date gift would be a small box of candy. I could definitely see Rover as being a person who likes small sweet treats as a guilty pleasure, and he’d want to share them with you as a way of connecting you with something that you love. 

He’s calm throughout most of your stroll, browsing through stores or looking around in quiet curiosity as you show him little nooks and crannies of the city. He enjoyed hearing how you would describe stores or fixate on different areas of the city that he hadn’t thought to really pay attention to before. 

He makes a mental note of the places that you like so that for your next date, you two could come back to them. Rover is already a few steps ahead in terms of thinking where he wants to go with you or what he wants to do. 

When you’re done showing him the city, he’ll give you a kind, endearing look and smile at you. He’ll take a moment to just admire you, shifting some of your hair out of your face and enjoy being in your presence before ultimately, it is time to part ways. He’ll wave you off, thanking you for everything and giving him a tour, before he smiles to himself like a fool and turns to head back to his quarters. 

Other Points: - Probably would be looking at you more than the city.  - Fast walker, so you’d have to keep up the pace. Apologies if he’s going too fast and happens to catch you struggling. - Will inquire about certain places just to listen to you talk. 

Jiyan

As the general of the Midnight Rangers that conducts himself in a poised, righteous manner, he’d be the most classy out of all the people to take you out on a date. 

Jiyan’s got a busy schedule as the head of such an important group in Jinzhou, but after bonding with you and asking you out he wanted to ensure that he carved out time in advance for just you and him to spend an afternoon together. 

He’d take you to a fancy restaurant in Jinzhou, the best money can buy. He’d be sure to pick you up from your place and walk with you to the restaurant. When you open the door, he’s standing in front of you with his hair slicked back and ponytail waving a bit in the wind, his clothes pristine and ironed out to look his absolute best in front of you. 

His present for you is a bouquet of flowers he made himself. He enlisted the help of his mom for this one, catching up with her about medical practices as he puts together the best pecok, irises, and poppies that he could find when he was out on his rounds into a pretty bouquet just for you. It’s wrapped up with brown paper and has a nice aqua bow on it, matching his hair.

When you get to the restaurant, he’ll look at the menu with you and ask you to order anything your heart desires. He already knows what he wants to eat, and will quietly look at you with a softened expression as you begin choosing what you want. He finds the way you handle yourself beautiful, even if it’s through simple things like ordering food. 

Jiyan will happily eat anything you don’t end up finishing. He doesn’t want to waste money, and he also cannot deny that the way you ask him to finish your plate was cute. He’ll work it off anyways with the amount of fighting and training he does, so he doesn’t mind. 

Will pay for the meal. No splitting or you paying, as much as you might plead and beg.

Will take you back to your place and entertain any questions you may have for him, whether it be about his past, missions he’s been on, or just about his duties as general of the Midnight Rangers. When he drops you off, he’d take the back of your hand and gently place a kiss on it before standing up straight and giving you a small smile, wishing you a goodnight. 

Other Points: - Will hold all your belongings so your hands are free and light. Does not matter how heavy or how much you have, he will refuse to let you “labor” like that, as he puts it.  - Admires your personality and the way you hold yourself when you speak. - Has a strong desire to protect you; always subconsciously keeping an eye out for any danger even though it’s daylight out.

[finelinefae]

semi-finals [tennisplayer!harry x tennisplayer!y/n]

synopsis: y/n gets distracted and harry just wants the girl he likes to like him back

word count: 10.7k

contains: fluff, angst, enemies to lovers, set at a boarding school, slow burn, angst, tennis rivals, strict parents, first kiss(es), jealous!h, jealous!yn, inaccurate height of certain characters who may actually be taller in real life but this is an au so it's fine, a crazy confession but not really bc we all saw it coming

this is part 3 of the game! read part 2 here

. . .

Y/N watched him from across the room, studying the way people walked up to him as though he was some kind of celebrity. He smiled and laughed but it didn’t reach his eyes, not in the way it did when they were together. 

But it wasn’t his charismatic smile and booming laugh that constantly grabbed her attention when she was trying to listen to Sarah’s story about the cat her parents had fostered back home. It was the blonde girl beside him, the one who hadn’t left his side for the entire night, who laughed along with him and stole glances whenever he wasn’t looking. 

Her opponent for the next tournament that was now a month away. 

Astrid Anderson had once been a student at Crestwood. They’d all been in the same infant class together and every boy in their year group was obsessed with her. Harry and Astrid hadn’t started dating until the year before Harry left for Australia. They were the ‘It’ couple of Crestwood, everyone treated them as though they were some kind of celebrity couple. 

All that lasted until Harry had to leave for Australia. He broke things off and then Astrid moved to Trinity Academy which was Crestwood’s biggest rival in most competitive areas. Y/N didn’t know or care what Astrid had gotten up to since she left school. There was no bitterness between them but they both knew they weren’t the type of people to share the same social circle. Whilst Astrid cared more about her social life, Y/N was completely focused on academics and there was nothing wrong with either of those things but it didn’t give them much to talk about. 

“Right Y/N?” Sarah asked, her head whipping around in her direction only to realise she had no idea what she was talking about. 

“Right,” Y/N nodded, having no clue as to what she was agreeing with. 

Adam held back a smile as he sat on the couch across from her, “Mitch, come get a drink with me,” Sarah stood up, tugging the hem of her skirt down, “I need you to push past all the tall people.”

Mitch, all five foot eight inches of him, rose from his place beside Jake on the couch with a self-satisfied stretch, as if flaunting his height as proof that his girlfriend needed him. "Coming, babe," he declared, a hint of smugness in his voice.  Everyone laughed as Mitch winked, following behind Sarah through the crowds of dancing bodies. 

Y/N glanced over at Harry who was now standing with his back to her, talking to Astrid with his hand propped up against the refrigerator. “If you’re not careful, you’ll burn holes into his back,” Adam spoke from beside her. 

“That’s the idea,” Y/N murmured. 

“Hm, I thought you didn’t like him?” Adam asked the question causing her to turn and face him. 

“I don’t,” She answers immediately but the words are like metal on her tongue, “I-I mean I-” 

Adam’s lips curve into a knowing smirk, “I see,”

Y/N wanted to protest but found herself unable to muster the words. Her mouth seemed to glue itself shut as she attempted to argue against Adam’s assumption that she liked Harry even a little bit. Her emotions had been all over the place ever since she asked Harry to coach her. He seemed to bring out a part of her she didn’t even know she had. One moment she was angry, the next she was laughing, and sometimes her heart would beat so hard against her chest that she felt like it was trying to leap out and walk right into the palm of his hand.

She couldn’t comprehend how the wires in her brain had seemingly rewired themselves, transitioning from loathing someone to now seeing visions of them before she drifted off to sleep. It both frightened and excited her, this inexplicable shift in her feelings consuming her thoughts and diverting her attention from the actual game - a game that had never required feelings before. 

“We both agreed on not seeing anyone if this was to work out,” She confessed.

“Did he make that rule or you?” Adam quirked a brow.

“It was a mutual agreement I guess,” Y/N shrugged. 

Adam nodded slowly, his eyes darting to and from Harry. “C’mere,” He motioned with his finger. Y/N leaned in at the same time as he did, until they were only inches a part from each other, “Laugh,” He says.

“What?” Y/N questioned. 

“Trust me, just laugh.” Adam glanced over her shoulder again before smiling. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment before complying, a hesitant laugh escaping her lips to which Adam joined in. The more he laughed, the more she laughed with him until he stopped, “Uh oh,” He smirked, leaning forward and grabbing his drink from the coffee table, “Looks like you started something now.” He motions his head behind her and Y/N turns to find Harry no longer with Astrid but striding towards them, anger radiating from him. 

“Adam, what did you do?” Y/N exclaimed, sitting on the edge of the couch as Harry approached them. 

His eyes were darkened, his jaw tense, “Y/N,” He said her name over the music, “Can I talk to you?” Each word was tense as he spoke them like he was trying to control himself. 

Maybe it was the bit of alcohol she’d had that was taking over her senses but she felt a sudden boost of confidence. Y/N folded her arms, “Ask me again,” She smirked. 

Harry scoffed, “Can I talk to you?”

Y/N’s expression was smug as she spoke the next word carefully, “Again,”

Harry’s jaw tightened, gritting his teeth he spoke again just as she asked, “Can I talk to you, please?”

Adam snorted beside her and Y/N’s lips curved, “Okay,” She stood up, ignoring the way her head spun, and stumbled as she followed him down the hallways of his apartment to a room near the back right by the bathroom that people were queuing up to use. He stood in front of an unopened door and pulled out a key from his back pocket to unlock it. 

Stepping inside, Y/N glanced around the room and noticed how different it was from the rest of the apartment. It had calming blue walls and a simple bed with white sheets. A big window let in soft light, making it cosy. There were personal things like photos and an old music player. There were posters on the wall and pictures of his friends on the corkboard by the desk. On one of the shelves in the corner, she saw the trophies she had previously seen in boxes now displayed on his shelf. 

She smiled but it quickly disappeared as she faced an angry-looking Harry. “What are you playing at?” 

“What do you mean?” Y/N crossed her arms.

Harry's eyes narrowed, his frustration evident as he took a step closer to Y/N. "Don't play dumb with me, Y/N," his voice tinged with a raw edge. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You and Adam? I thought we agreed not to date anybody?”

Y/N scoffed, “So did I until I saw you hanging around your ex-girlfriend who - might I add - is my opponent for the next game!”

Harry took a step forward and Y/N took one step back until she was backed up against his door. He placed one hand on the wall right by her head and hung his head to look down at her. Y/N’s breath hitched at how close he was, “Are you jealous?” He murmurs. 

“Jealous of who? You and your ex?” She emphasised the ‘ex’ like she was reminding him that Astrid was his ex-girlfriend. 

Harry's eyes flickered with a mixture of emotions, his lips curling into a knowing smirk. "You are, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice low and filled with a hint of amusement.

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she felt the heat of Harry's body so close to hers. She swallowed hard, refusing to let herself be intimidated by his proximity. "I'm not jealous," she insisted, her voice tinged with defiance.

Harry's smirk widened, his hand still resting against the wall beside her head. "Really?" he challenged, his breath warm against her cheek as he leaned in closer. “You don’t think I didn’t see you and those pretty eyes staring holes into the back of my head?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her frustration evident. "You're more arrogant than I thought," she muttered under her breath.

"Do you like him?" Harry's question caught her off guard.

"I've already told you I don't," she replied, a hint of annoyance colouring her tone.

"You know it kills me?" Harry's voice softened, his expression pained. Y/N's confusion was clear as she waited for him to continue. "It kills me to see you with him, to see you with anybody but me. Especially when you laugh like that, I only want you to laugh like that with me."

"Well, unfortunately for you, you don't tell me what to do," Y/N shot back, her heart pounding against her chest.

"I thought I was your coach?" Harry smirked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You're my coach, not my keeper. If I want to talk to Adam or laugh around him, I will. In fact, I'm going to," she declared, spinning around and pulling the door open, the noise from the party flooding her ears.

As she walked back into the living room, Y/N spotted Adam with Mitch, Sarah, Jake, and some others playing beer pong at the dining table. Adam's smile faltered when he noticed Harry behind her. "Hey, everything okay?" he asked, concern evident in his voice.

Y/N nodded determination in her eyes. "Can I play?"

"Sure, it's my round so you can be on my team if you want," Adam offered with a smile.

Y/N grinned. "Who are we playing?"

Suddenly, the boy she had been locked in the room with stood at the opposite end of the table. "Mind if I join?" Harry's question hung in the air, his eyes fixed on Y/N.

Y/N tried not to react as Astrid approached him, placing a manicured hand on his shoulder. "I'll be on your team, H," she said with a smile, and Y/N's jaw tensed at the sight.

Harry smirked, glancing at Y/N, “Alright then,” 

“You sure about this?” Adam asked.

“Mhm,” Y/N nodded, “It’s just…How do we play?”

Adam laughed which caught Harry’s attention as he spoke to Astrid, “Just follow my lead, you’ll get the idea.”

As the game started, Y/N sensed Harry was intentionally trying to make her jealous when he laughed and spoke to Astrid far too enthusiastically. But she refused to let it bother her the way he wanted it to. She focused on the game with Adam, watching as he tossed the ping pong ball into one of the cups.

She noticed Harry scowl whenever they got remotely close to each other, high-fiving or giving each other a hug whenever one of them managed to get the ball into a cup. It gave her a sense of satisfaction whenever she’d see his eyes narrow as Adam placed a hand on her elbow to help her aim the ball in the right direction. 

Towards the end of the game, Y/N could feel herself slowly starting to fall under the effects of the alcohol. She had only ever drunk alcohol at functions or dinner parties with her parents and now she was countless drinks in. Her brain was turning fuzzy, there was no thought behind her words whenever she spoke and every time she aimed the ball, it would fly off the table somewhere across the room. 

As Y/N took her last turn, she was already very drunk and she knew she'd feel bad about it in the morning. Even with her friends cheering her on, she struggled to focus. She aimed carefully at the last cup, but the ball bounced off the table and landed in a plant pot nearby.

"Oops," Y/N slurred, her lips curving into a drunken giggle. "Looks like it's my turn to drink."

Before Adam could reach her, she took a step forward, catching her foot on the table edge and tumbling to the floor. Y/N laughed as she lay flat on her back looking up at the ceiling, “Are you okay, Y/N?” Sarah’s voice called. 

"Are you alright?" Adam asked, helping her stand back up again.

"Whoa," Y/N said, putting a hand to her head as it started to pound.

"Okay, I think that's enough for you," Adam chuckled.

"Are you okay?" Harry appeared in her view. "Hey, look at me." He gently lifted her chin with his finger.

"I'm fine," Y/N swayed. "I'm really, really great."

"Yeah?" Harry smiled. "Your knee's bleeding."

Y/N's brows furrowed. "It is?" She looked down.

"Mhm, c'mon, let's go clean it up." He took her hand.

"Oh, but the game!" Y/N looked over her shoulder to see everyone returning to their own groups.

"The game's over, love," he sighed when he realized she wasn't going to take another step on her own. He threw her over his shoulder and carried her down the hallway to his room.

"Hey, quit calling me that!" she slurred, banging her fists against his back.

The noise from the party softened as Harry closed the door behind him. Y/N found herself on Harry's bed, her body bouncing lightly as he carefully laid her down. She gazed up at the ceiling, her legs dangling over the edge of the mattress.

Harry stumbled into his bathroom and dampened a cloth under the cold water before walking back to her. Y/N propped herself up as he approached, observing him closely as he knelt between her legs.

He gently took her calf in his hand, “Are you drunk?” Y/N asked. 

Harry chuckled, his cheeks flushed. "Just a bit," he admitted, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Maybe more than a bit."

Y/N giggled, “Me too,” She confessed.

“I know that,” He chuckled, his hair falling in front of his face, “You play a mean game of beer pong.”

“If it weren’t for you I probably wouldn’t be so competitive,” Y/N admitted.

"But it was fun, right?" Harry's smile softened. “You like spending time with me?”

Y/N relaxed, her shoulders dropping, “I think…” She starts, her mind whirring, “Okay shhhhh,” She puts her finger to his lips and his lips pout automatically against them, “Don’t tell anyone this but everyday I wake up and I look forward to spending time with you.”

Harry smirks, “You do?” 

“But don’t tell anybody,” She insists.

“Okay,” He nods, “I won’t tell anybody.”

“How do I know you won’t tell anybody?” Y/N frowns. 

“Hmm,” Harry thinks, “How about I tell you something?”

Y/N nods, “Okay.”

Harry’s eyes look into hers, “No amount of time in the day is ever enough for me. I want to spend every moment of my days with you, every second of time and even more than that.” 

“Woah,” Y/N’s eyes widen, her hand resting on his shoulder, “That’s a lot of time.”

“And it’s still not enough,” Harry whispers, his head leaning closer to hers. The cloth slipped from her thigh, Harry’s cold fingers wrapping themselves around her ankle that was right by his knee as he knelt on the floor. 

“Harry,” Y/N murmurs, “Do you still love her?”

Harry shakes his head immediately, “No,” He says, “For someone so brilliantly smart how do you still not know?” 

“I’m not smart when it comes to people,” She whispers, “Or you. I think that’s why you frustrate me so much.”

“You frustrate me for an entirely different reason,” His hand lifts to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. She could feel his breath fanning her face, smelling the scent of alcohol. 

Her hands go to his shirt, scrunching the fabric into tight fists, “Tell me,” Her eyes flutter shut as his lips ghost over her cheek.

“Not today baby,” He says. 

“Y’ said it again,” Her lips curve, “You called me that in the car too.”

“You remember that?” 

“I remember everything,” 

As Harry parted his lips to reply, Y/N seized the moment, her hand darting to the back of his neck as she planted a quick peck on his lips. His eyes widened in surprise as she giggled, "Whoops."

Before she could fully retract her hand, Harry leaned in, closing the gap between them and pressing his lips to hers once more.

Y/N melted against him, feeling his lips merge with hers as he caught her bottom lip between his. Her eyes were closed and her senses were overwhelmed with the taste of alcohol and the scent of his aftershave. His lips were soft and everything about him was so warm. Every time she would try to catch her breath he would just steal the air right out of her as if she were his source of oxygen. 

They both pulled away. Y/N needed a moment before she could open her eyes again as she tried to regain her breath. When she did, green, hazy eyes looked into hers. Her lips curved before she spoke, “I haven’t kissed anyone like that before,” She admits.

"Really?" Harry asked, his voice tinged with surprise.

Y/N shook her head, her laughter bubbling up. "I mean, I kissed Jamie Keller once in the fourth year, but it wasn't a proper kiss."

Harry rolled his eyes, a hint of amusement in his expression. "Fucking Jamie Keller," he muttered.

Y/N laughed, unable to tear her eyes away from him. "Yeah," she murmured, "Fucking Jamie Keller."

Harry's fingers brushed against Y/N's cheek, “Do you think we’ll remember this in the morning?” He asked. 

Y/N couldn’t find an answer, instead, she brushed the curls in front of his eyes to the side and wondered just how much she had had to drink to end up in the one place she’d been trying to avoid. 

. . .

“Shit,” Y/N hissed, “This isn’t real.”

Her head was pounding like someone was hammering against her skull and her spine felt like she had been sleeping folded in half as she sat up straight in bed. She was in a room, a room she didn’t recognise and hoped it wasn’t just some random stranger’s. 

The last thing she remembered vividly was sitting on the couch with Adam and Harry standing somewhere across the room with Astrid, everything afterwards just seemed to blur all into nothing. 

It was her first time getting drunk and probably her last too from the awful state her body was in. She wanted nothing more than to shower and sleep in her own bed, eat foods high in sodium and drink gallons of water. 

Her heart leapt inside of her chest when she heard soft snores coming from somewhere in the room. She looked down and saw Harry curled up asleep on the floor, his arms wrapped around her ankle and holding it to his chest like a teddy bear.  

Y/N's heart swelled with a mixture of confusion and tenderness as she gazed down at Harry's sleeping form. She couldn't deny the warmth that spread through her at the sight of him, even if she couldn't quite understand how they had ended up in this situation.

Carefully extracting her ankle from his grasp, Y/N shifted to the edge of the bed, wincing as her head throbbed with each movement. She needed to get home. She had so much to do and prepare for now that her first game was over. She cursed herself as she tiptoed past Harry, not before grabbing a blanket to place over him as she walked to the door. 

Harry sighed, “You don’t remember do you?” 

Y/N frowned, wondering if he was talking in his sleep or actually asking her a question. She shrugged and pulled the door open, closing it softly behind her. 

Harry’s apartment was a mess. 

There were beer cans littered across the room and silly string on bits of furniture. She wondered whether or not she should stay to clear up but then remembered it was technically Mitch’s party which also made it his responsibility. 

She tried to spot someone who might have been able to offer her a lift home so she didn’t have to get the bus back to her dorm. Fortunately for her, Adam was lying on the couch asleep so she walked right over and gently shook him awake.

“Hey,” She whispered, “Sorry to wake you up,”

“Y/N?” Adam groaned, “I thought you went home,”

Y/N didn’t know why she was suddenly blushing but she replied, “Any chance you can give me a ride home?” She knew he had a car because he lived with his parents.

“I’ve been drinking,” He groans.

“Please?” She was desperate, “I know you only drank water for most of the night,”

He yawns, “Fine,” 

In the car ride back to her dorm, Y/N tried to recall the memories that had been missing from the previous night. She vaguely remembered playing beer pong and Harry playing alongside Astrid but the more she drank, the more her memory seemed to fade.

“You okay?” Adam asked, glancing over at her from the driver’s seat. 

“No, I can’t remember anything from last night,” Y/N groaned, running her hands over her face. 

Adam chuckles, “So you don’t remember falling over?”

Y/N’s eyes widened as she turned her head to look at him, “I fell?”

He nodded, “You tripped over the dining table when we were playing beer pong. Harry took you somewhere to fix up your knee,” 

Y/N looked down at her knee and frowned, “My knee?” She murmured, seeing the cut on her knee and the blood that had dried up around it. 

Seeing the cut on her knee must have triggered something in her brain because all of a sudden everything was beginning to piece together. 

Harry’s eyes look into hers, “No amount of time in the day is ever enough for me. I want to spend every moment of my days with you, every second of time and even more than that.” 

Harry's words echoed in her mind, sending a shiver down her spine. She could almost feel the warmth of his breath against her skin as he spoke those words and when he leaned and… 

“No fucking way,” Y/N blurted after everything came flooding back.

“Are you okay?” Adam looked at her concerned.

How could she possibly answer that? Was she okay? Clearly not, considering she had ended up in the bedroom of her longtime rival and kissed him.

She had kissed him.

And she had enjoyed it enough to want to kiss him again.

This wasn't good. It felt like she was breaking all the rules she had set for herself. Harry wasn't just any boy she went to school with; he was her coach, her rival, and someone she had known for years. He was the boy who used to tease her on the court, the one who always seemed to be one step ahead.

It must have been a drunken mistake. Y/N had no idea what she was like when she was drunk and clearly, she wasn’t the most sensible. It didn’t matter if things had suddenly changed between them, she couldn’t be with him, she wouldn’t allow herself to. Her focus was on winning that scholarship at the end of the school year where afterwards they’d be on two separate paths moving away from each other. 

Her feelings weren’t forever, tennis was. 

Thankfully, Adam had pulled into the front of her dorm building. She opened the door and leapt out of the car, “Thanks for the ride, Adam.” She tries to smile. 

“Hey Y/N,” Adam stops her, a look of concern on her face, “Are you okay?” He asks again and she realises she never answered him before.

She bit the inside of her cheek and gave him a tight-lipped smile, “I’m okay,” She lied and closed the door, spinning on her heel and walking to her dorm where she hoped she’d be alone so she could have time to work through her thoughts.

Even when she felt like she was winning, he always managed to one-up her, and this time was no different.

. . .

Y/N walked into school the Monday after the party at Harry’s house. 

When she returned back to her dorm, the first thing she did was shower and then spent the rest of the day wallowing in self pity and trying not to cry at the thought of kissing Harry. 

She had managed to go avoiding him the entire weekend and planned on doing the same today. He had sent her text messages asking her if she was okay but she’d ignored them, putting her notifications on silent like it was enough to trick her mind into believing nothing happened between them. 

Sarah had walked in on her hiding under her bed covers, watching episodes of Gilmore Girls and eating cold pizza. It was a sight she had never seen before which left her wondering if something had happened at the party but Y/N refused to tell. 

People congratulated Y/N in the hallways as she walked to her locker. She wasn’t used to getting attention from everybody. Most of the time, people didn’t really acknowledge her unless they needed help with their homework.

“Heyyy court queen,” Sarah beamed.

Y/N immediately shook her head, “Sarah, no,” she snorted, trying not to laugh.

“What?” Sarah frowned, “I’m trying to think up a catchy nickname so it catches on and people put it on merch and signs for your game.”

This time Y/N did laugh, “Are you trying to make money off of me?” She teased.

“No, of course not, I’m just being a supportive friend. You know my mother is designing a new clothing line? I can totally get her to design something for people to wear for your games.”

“Sarah,” Y/N put her hands on her friend’s shoulders, “I’ve won one game for a school competition. As much as I love you for it, I don’t need you to create merchandise or give me catchy nicknames.”

Sarah’s shoulders slumped, “I know, it’s just… You’re playing against Astrid Anderson. Not only is she popular at her new school, but she’s also still pretty popular here too. Jake told me he saw her volunteering at a homeless shelter, offering them invites to come to the semi-finals.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, “We’re playing tennis. It’s not a beauty pageant. Whatever happens, won’t be up to how many people turn up or what everybody’s wearing.”

“But don’t you think she’s trying to do it to throw you off?” Sarah asked, “I’m pretty sure she still has feelings for Harry. Isn’t that weird?”

“Weird?” Y/N replied quickly, “Why would it be weird?”

Sarah looked at her suspiciously, “Because she’s Harry’s ex-girlfriend? And your opponent for the next game and did I forget to mention Harry ‘your coach’s’ ex-girlfriend?”

“What Harry does outside of our training is none of my business,” Y/N cleared her throat.

“Did something happen between you two? At the party, Mitch said he saw you two go off somewhere and now you’re being weird,” Sarah questioned.

“Nothing happened, Harry was just being his usual, annoying self,” Y/N hoped she was convincing enough to drop the subject, but Sarah continued to look at her like she knew there was something she wasn’t saying.

Thankfully, the bell for the first period was a perfect interruption. Y/N slammed her locker shut, “I’ll see you later?”

Sarah nodded, “Lunch, right?”

Y/N froze, remembering that Harry was a member of their usual lunch group, “Um, I-I have tutoring.”

“What?” Sarah furrowed her brows, “I thought you tutored on Wednesdays?”

“Change of schedule?” Y/N blurted out, grasping for an excuse.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed, “Something very weird is happening… Are you pregnant?”

“Okay, love you so much, bye,” Y/N rushed, giving Sarah a quick hug before walking quickly past her to avoid blurting out any more hideous lies.

As she turned the corner, she accidentally bumped into someone, her shoulder colliding with theirs. Y/N looked up, and her heart was in her mouth when she saw Harry looking down at her, something flashed in his eyes, his lips parting the same way hers did as she finally laid eyes on him after ignoring him all weekend. He was wearing his blazer for once, but his tie was loose around his neck.

“Y/N,” he breathed.

Y/N’s eyes softened, she wanted to speak to him, but then her cheeks flushed as she remembered the night in his bedroom. “I-I-” Her throat felt like she’d swallowed cotton wool as she tried to get her words out, “I can’t.” She shook her head, walking past him and ignoring him calling her name.

. . .

Y/N had hoped by ignoring the things that were bothering her, everything would fix itself on its own. It was a bad habit she hadn’t learned to kick and the situation with Harry was no different. 

They hadn’t spoken a word about their kiss since it happened, in fact, they barely spoke about anything at all. Y/N had hoped Harry would go back to their usual back-and-forth arguments and forget about everything but whenever she tried to say something that would push his buttons, he’d just ignore her or use one-worded replies. 

During tennis practice, he’d barely even look at her when she asked him a question and stopped arguing with her when she wanted to do things differently from the way he worked. She was even beginning to think her friends had figured out that something had gone down between them from the way Harry would completely shut down whenever she opened her mouth to speak during lunch break, 

As much as she hated herself for it, she missed him. Missed the way they would argue over everything but smile at each other because they both knew it wasn’t serious, missed the way he calmed her down whenever she would get too passionate about something and the way he looked at her like she was the only person in the room. 

She had tried to forget the kiss but she went to sleep dreaming about it. Every time he got anywhere near her, thoughts of his lips on hers flashed through her mind like a showreel. His low, drunken mumble when he spoke to her outplayed the music in her ears whenever she tried to listen to the playlist he had made for her. 

Worst of all, it was affecting her gameplay. Y/N was pretty sure she had never seen such terrible volleys or groundstrokes in her entire life. Every time she would try to aim the ball, she’d get distracted by Harry wiping sweat from his brow or watching her so intensely when she wasn’t looking like he was trying to set her on fire with his own eyes. 

The game was two weeks away and the dream of winning that scholarship was slowly slipping out of her grasp with every passing day. 

It was the end of the week and Y/N was sitting in her dorm room, eating cereal at her desk with her pyjama bottoms and her school shirt on. She was finishing up the last few questions of her math homework when Sarah walked in. 

“I need to show you something,” Sarah dropped her bag on the floor and pulled out a newspaper. 

“What’s wrong?” Y/N frowned, taking the rolled-up paper in her hands and unrolling it on her desk. Y/N’s eyes widened, her mouth falling open when she took in the image before her. 

It was a blown up picture of her and Harry on the front cover of the school newspaper. Harry had one arm around her waist and they were both looking into each other’s eyes, a smile on his face and a surprised look on hers. 

To everyone else, it looked like the front cover of a Nicholas Sparks novel and it probably didn’t help that the title was written in big bold letters with the words ‘The coach and his student’. 

“What the fuck!” Y/N stood up, gripping the newspaper in her hands she thought it might rip apart. 

“I know,” Sarah cringed, “I had no idea they were going to do that, Y/N, if I did I would never have gotten Luke that interview.”

“Sarah, ‘The coach and his student’? What is this? The title of a porno?” Y/N couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “How many people have seen this already?”

Sarah didn’t answer until Y/N gave her a stern look, “Everybody,”

Y/N groaned and threw the newspaper in the trash can beneath her desk before sliding on her trainers and storming down the hallways of her dorm. 

“Wait where are you going?” Sarah ran after her. Y/N ignored her as well as the people whispering about her as they held copies of the newspaper in their hands. She made a beeline for the car park, her gaze drawn to the familiar sight of his black Audi parked in its usual spot. There he was, leaning casually against it, engaged in conversation with Mitch, Adam, and Jake.

Mitch’s head turned when he saw her pacing towards them, Sarah still running behind her. Harry’s attention shifted to her. She saw the flash of amusement on his face before it fell flat again. 

“Have you seen this?” She held the newspaper up in front of him.

Harry’s eyes darted to the newspaper before landing on her face again, “Yes.” He said the usual one-worded reply he had been giving her all week. 

“And you approved of it?” She could feel the anger bubbling beneath the surface of her skin. 

“No,” He replied, “But it doesn’t bother me as much as it bothers you it seems.”

“Of course, it would bother me!” Y/N exclaimed, “If I’d have known they would make it look like we were a-”

Harry stilled, his jaw clenching, “If we were a what?”

Y/N paused before answering, “A couple.” He seemed to react in a way she couldn’t put her finger on, “I would have never done that stupid interview in the first place.”

Harry scoffed, “Why does it bother you so much to like me?” 

“It doesn’t bother me,” It did but she wouldn’t tell him that.

“You haven’t talked to me since Mitch’s party,” Harry started but she cut him off before he could say anything else.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” She stressed.

“You and I both know that’s not true.” 

“Harry you’re being ridiculous,”

“Says the girl who ran out here in her pyjama pants,” He quips.

Y/N looked down to realise she was, in fact, still in her pyjama bottoms. She glanced around at her friend’s who quickly looked away to act as though they weren’t all watching their argument like it was some kind of reality TV show moment. 

Harry’s shoulders dropped and he let out a sigh. He reached for her wrist and pulled her in closer. Y/N inhaled, it was the first time he had touched her since the party. “Look,” He murmured, keeping his voice low, “If I’d have known this was how you’d react I would have never have done it.”

Y/N looked surprised, “Really?” She couldn’t help but feel a sting at his words but she ignored it. 

He nods, “I went too far and I know things with you are different,”

“What do you mean?” But before Y/N could get a reply, she felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. 

She pulled it out and felt a pit form in her stomach when her mother’s name lit up the screen. She immediately answered it and walked to the back of Harry’s car to speak to her. “Mum?” Y/N answered. 

“Your father got an email this morning,” Her mother replied. No hello, no how are you or how’s school, just straight to the point. 

“He did?” Y/N already knew where this was going. 

“It was a copy of the school newspaper,” Her mother’s voice sounded as though she was trying to keep her anger at bay, “We opened it hoping to see our daughter somewhere on the scholar’s page but low and behold there you were right on the front cover - with a boy no less.” 

“Mum-”

“We want to see you,” Her mother snapped, interrupting her, “Your father has reserved us a table at Château Blanc two weeks today. It’s the only day off he could get so be grateful.” 

Two weeks from today was the day before the semi-finals. She needed to train but she couldn’t say no to her mother, “Okay, I’ll be there.”

“Good.” Her mother replied before hanging up the phone. 

Y/N slipped the phone back and sighed, “Are you okay?” Harry’s voice sounded. 

“My parents have seen the newspaper,” Y/N’s jaw clenched, “They want me to have dinner with them.”

“Do you need me to come with you?” Harry looked at her with genuine concern.

“No, what I need you to do is leave me alone.” Y/N had shut down. It was the way she always got whenever she spoke to her parents. 

“Y/N I didn’t know-” He reached for her hand as she walked past but she quickly pulled it away. 

“Leave me alone Harry,” She said, completely defeated. 

Y/N made her way back to her dorm and collapsed on her bed letting out a sigh of frustration. She looked up at the ceiling and wondered if she would ever find the off switch that would finally offer her a break from the life she was living. 

. . . 

Harry stood on one side of the tennis court, sending tennis balls flying with his racket toward Y/N, who stood on the opposite side, swiftly striking them back. She tried to ignore the intensity of his gaze, which seemed to linger on her every move as if he were observing more than just her technique. 

Every time she attempted to slice or backhand the ball, it would completely falter landing somewhere off the court. Whilst her body was on the court, her mind was elsewhere like it had been every day since her parents had called. 

She made an attempt to drop-shot the ball only to end up missing it completely. “Fuck!” Y/N cried out and hit her racket against the ground over and over again in a fit of rage and frustration. 

“Okay, slow down there, love,” Harry chuckled, “Y’ gonna break the racket and I’m pretty sure it’s school property.”

“It’s my own racket,” Y/N replied. 

The corner of his lips tilted upwards, “You still mad about that kiss?” 

Y/N glanced around them to see if anyone heard him. It’s not like it would change anything, everyone already thought they were dating after the school newspaper came out, “No, I’m not mad. In fact, I’ve already forgotten it ever happened, my brain has fully wiped it from my memory.”

Harry’s lips transformed into a smirk, “Oh really?” He took a step forward and she took one back, “Replaced with all those books…and…tennis,” His eyes dart down to her lips. 

“Tennis…” She whispers, her heart thudding in her chest. 

“So you don’t think about it at all?” He asks. 

“N-not at all,” She lies, terribly. 

“Okay,” He shrugs, wiping the smirk from his face, “Well clearly something’s bothering you because those hits were the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N gives him a look, “It’s my parents. I’m meeting them for dinner this Friday and I haven’t seen them since they dropped me off here at the beginning of the year.”

“Are they that upset with you over the paper?” Harry looked concerned. 

“I guess so. My dad even reserved a table at Château Blanc. It’s his favourite place to get mad at me and my mum. He can book a booth and then try to control his anger whilst eating steak and mashed potatoes - honestly, it’s his dream scenario.” Y/N laughs but Harry doesn’t see the humour. She sighs, “I’m worried it will throw me off of the game.”

This time, Harry does smile, “I don’t think anyone could do that.” 

“Everything is piling up and I just feel so mad and I don’t know where to put it,” She huffs. 

Harry's smile softened. "Here," he offered his racket, "Use mine. Can’t have you breaking yours when you have a semi-final to win."

Y/N hesitated, then accepted the racket, seeking confirmation from Harry. With his nod, she began to hit the racket against the floor repeatedly, releasing her frustration with each strike. 

"Ugh," she screeched, "I’m so pissed."

"Oh, yeah, let it out," Harry encouraged with a chuckle.

With each slam of the racket, Y/N vented her frustration. "I just wanna play tennis!"

“I just want to win my next stupid game!”

“I just want my parents to like me!”

Suddenly, Harry joined in, mirroring her actions. “I hate that I have this stupid injury!

“I think my dad’s disappointed in me!”

“I just want the girl I like to like me back!”

They continued hitting the rackets on the ground until they started to crack and split from the force. As the rackets began to splinter, they exchanged a glance, a mix of exhaustion and relief evident in their eyes. With a final forceful slam, they both dropped their broken rackets to the ground, the sound echoing in the quiet of the tennis court.

Y/N looks down at their broken rackets on the floor, her chest heaving up and down. Unable to help herself, she starts laughing feeling relieved to have finally gotten all her anger out. Harry watches and then starts laughing with her. 

“Feel better?” He asks. 

Y/N nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Yeah," she replied softly, meeting his gaze, “I do.”

. . .

Y/N’s parents sent a car to pick her up on the night of the dinner. She sat in the back of the car in a pair of tights and a navy blue dress with a pair of brogues laced up on her feet. Her hair was in loose curls fastened with a clip at the back. Whenever she was around her parents, she always had to dress smart. 

She glanced at her phone to make sure she wasn’t running late as they pulled in front of the restaurant. She tipped the driver before leaving even if her parents wouldn’t agree if they found out later. 

The dimly lit restaurant looked elegant, with fancy lights and dark wood furniture. There were long curtains on the windows and the tables had white cloths and polished silverware. Gentle jazz music played in the background as people chatted across tables.

Y/N spotted her parents in their usual booth at the back. She made her way towards them but immediately began to panic when she realised they weren’t alone. 

Sitting across from them was Harry’s mother, Anne, who Y/N had last encountered briefly before when she had visited his apartment for the first time. She looked regal in her fancy dress and matching pearl jewellery. 

Beside her sat a man wearing a finely tailored suit and tie who resembled an older version of Harry, with grey hair and a face lined with wrinkles, but he didn't seem a day over sixty. His eyes were a darker shade of green than Harry’s were and his demeanour wasn’t as friendly. 

“Y/N,” Anne was the first to acknowledge her presence, smiling as she walked over.

It caught the attention of her own parents, who turned and forced a smile as though to project a united front in front of Harry’s parents. “Hello,” Y/N bent over to kiss her mother and father on the cheek in greeting. 

“Y/N, you remember Anne and James from the country club?” Her mother, Theresa, spoke.

“Of course,” Y/N sat in the chair beside her mother.

“We invited them to eat with us considering this matter contains them both.” 

Y/N nodded, not knowing what to say in response. She knew the dinner with her parents would have something to do with her participation in the Academy Slam but she hadn’t been expecting to see Harry’s parents too. 

“Did you see Harry on his way in?” Anne asked, “He said he was on his way earlier.”

“Mind if I sit here?” His voice appeared out of nowhere and Y/N’s entire body reacted in a way she couldn’t control around him.

Her head lifted to look up at him and the air knocked out of her. Unlike his usual casual attire, he was wearing a black suit with golden buttons and a black tie. His hair was better styled than the usual unruly mess of curls. He smiled down at her, his eyes seemed to brighten beneath the dim lights at the sight of her. 

He winked and sat down in the chair beside her, “Sorry I’m late.”

His presence overwhelmed her senses, the faint scent of his cologne filling the air as he settled into his seat. Whatever this dinner was meant to be had completely changed for her; she suddenly felt less alone.

“Harry,” Y/N’s father, David, spoke, “Haven’t seen you since you left for Australia.”

“It’s certainly been a while,” Harry spoke, smiling forcefully. 

After ordering their food, David speaks, “I assume you know why we’re here,” He directs the statement towards Y/N who feels everyone’s eyes on her.

“The newspaper?” She says.

“The tennis,” Her father replies, saying the words with a hint of disappointment. “Y/N, you don’t seriously think you’re going to get anywhere with this tennis thing do you?” 

Y/N’s cheeks warm in embarrassment, “What?”

This time Theresa spoke, “We understand you enjoy it for fun but don’t you think you’re being greedy taking the opportunity of a scholarship away from girls who want to waste their lives on it?”

“Mum,” Y/N starts, “Tennis… tennis is everything to me. I-I’m not doing this because it’s some game to me. I’m doing this because I don’t have a choice.”

Y/N feels Harry’s knee bump hers beneath the table like he was silently praising her for sticking up for herself, “Don’t be ridiculous Y/N,” David says, “All you’ve ever talked about is going into medicine.”

“Because it was all you were willing to hear,” Y/N quickly responded.

A throat cleared from across the table and Harry’s father looked directly at him, “Don’t think this doesn’t apply to you.”

Harry frowns, “What are you talking about?”

“Coaching Harry? Seriously? After your injury? You know the doctor said you could worsen the damage if you continued and you disobeyed that for what? A silly game of girl’s tennis?” 

He scoffed, “Here we go,”

“Harry,” His mother warned. 

“You know we all agreed that if you were to go back to school you’d need to pick up on other subjects so you could actually go somewhere in life? Instead, we have to hear from your teachers how your grades have fallen only to find you on the front cover of the school newspaper with a girl who can’t hire her own coach and has to put you at risk?” 

Harry’s hands ball into fists beneath the table. Y/N didn’t know whether she felt more embarrassed or ashamed, all this felt like her fault and she didn’t know what to do. 

“I-I didn’t mean to put him at risk, Mr Styles,” Y/N stutters. She feels Harry place a hand on her knee. 

“Y/N, this will stop at once. I’m requesting the school pull you out of the competition.” Her father says and Y/N swears she feels her heart breaking.

“No please,” She was willing to get down on her hands and knees and beg, “Please Dad, this means everything to me.”

David raises a hand, “I won’t hear any of it. If it means you can focus on passing your exams and Harry no longer has to think about his injury then you can quit.” 

“N-no, I won’t let you take this away from me. I’ve been good, I study every day and I’m top of all my classes, why can’t you let me just have this one thing?” She didn’t care if she sounded childish or insane, this competition was all she had been working for. 

“Oh quit blubbering Y/N,” Her mother spoke, rolling her eyes, “You know I hate it when you do that.”

“Please, please,” Y/N doesn’t know what more she can do or say, they wouldn’t listen. 

Harry pushed his chair back, the sound catching everybody’s attention as the legs scraped against the floor, “I think Y/N and I will eat elsewhere,” Harry spoke, taking her hand beneath the table and flipping it over to intertwine their fingers. His thumb rubbed over the pulse point on her wrist in a way to calm her down. 

“What are you talking about?” James huffed. 

“Do any of you actually know how hard Y/N works?” Harry spits, “I doubt it because you’re all too busy counting the paper in your wallet to look up at your own fucking kids.” 

“Harry,” Anne gasps.

“No,” He glares at both his father and Y/N’s parents, “Y/N studies six hours a day, every day. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her take a break from it. When she’s not studying, she’s on the court blistering her hands just so she can get at least one perfect shot. She is the most brilliantly smart person I know and you may not care or fight for her but I will. I always will and right now I will not let you take away something she has worked so deeply hard for.” He stands from the table, still holding Y/N’s hand and everyone can see it as she refuses to let go. 

“Harry, sit down,” James orders but he ignores him.

“You’ve been disappointed in me since the moment I injured myself. I know you think I’m no good to you anymore, in fact, I’ve accepted it and I am glad for it because I have never been so happy and if you looked long enough you’d realise it.” Harry looks down at Y/N, his eyes filled with passion and anger and sincerity, “I am happy.” He says, “Because of what she has given me.” 

James scoffs, “And what is that?”

Harry’s head spins in the direction of his father, “Something you know nothing about.”

And with that, Harry tugs on Y/N’s hand to lead her out of the restaurant. 

Before they could fully walk away, Y/N felt her mother pulling her back, “If you walk out of this restaurant…”

“You’ll what? Never speak to me again? As if that’s anything new,” Y/N scoffs, “Nothing I do will ever be enough to either of you, will it?”

Y/N ignored the throbbing in her chest at her mother’s lack of reply, instead, she walked alongside Harry, holding his hand as they left the restaurant and reached his car.

Outside, the cool breeze felt nice on her warm skin. They shared a glance before Y/N started laughing so hard she started to cry. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she sobbed softly. Harry looked at her with a gentle expression, giving her space to let out her feelings and make sense of everything that had just happened.

“I don’t normally cry so can you look away?” Y/N sobs, unable to help herself as the tears fall from her eyes.

“No I don’t think I can do that,” Harry says, “You’re too pretty,”

Y/N huffs a laugh through her tears as she tries to wipe them away with the back of her hand, “I feel stupid,” She whispers to herself, her head falling forward. 

She sees Harry’s shoes on the ground and lifts her head up to look up at him towering above her. He smiles and pushes her hair out of her face, “Hi Y/N,” He murmurs.

“Hi Harry,” She whispers.

“Sorry for kidnapping you,” He says and Y/N chuckles.

“S okay,” She murmurs, her hands balling at her sides when he steps closer until his face is right in front of hers. 

“Can I admit something? You can pretend to be a little shocked if you want,” Harry asks. 

“Okay,”

“I’m crazy for you,” He admits, the words stealing her breath, “I’ve been crazy for you since third year since you followed me around the playground threatening to beat me up with a tennis racket if I didn’t show you how to use one.” 

Y/N’s lips parted, unsure of what to respond with so she let him talk, “And I’ve spent all these years pining for your attention even if it was just a scrap but I don’t think I can take it anymore. I like you Y/N, I like you so much I don’t know how to breathe until I’m around you. I thought tennis was what bought me happiness but I don’t think it ever has. The only reason I ever loved tennis as much as I do is because of you.” 

“Harry,” Y/N’s eyes glisten at the boy in front of her. The boy she had spent her whole life arguing with because no one had ever frustrated her as much as he had. 

“Do you hate me?” He asks, his eyes worried, “Because after that kiss I thought you did for a moment.”

Y/N shook her head, “No,” She murmured, “I don’t hate you.”

He let out a sigh of relief, “Okay, well that’s good.”

“No one has ever stuck up for me before,” Y/N says, “Or believed in me the way you do. I’ve always done it all on my own.” Harry’s expression softens, “I think all this time I thought I was hating you, I was actually afraid of you because you make these things happen in my brain that I couldn’t seem to ever figure out.”

“Have you got them figured out yet?” Harry cups her cheek in his hand, it’s warm and soft and everything she needs.

“Not everything, but I do know one thing,” Y/N stands on her toes, looping her arms around his neck and smiling harder than she’s ever smiled - ever. “I like you an awful lot, Harry,” 

Harry’s smile outshone the moon. It was the happiest she’d ever seen him and maybe the happiest she’d ever been too. A sense of relief seemed to feel the air, Y/N felt lighter like she was a tennis ball flying through the air right into the palm of his hand, “You mean that?” He murmured, lips ghosting her cupid's bow. 

“I do,” She says, “But if you make me say it again I’ll lie and say I don’t mean it,”

“Okay,” He whispers, his mouth grazing hers as he holds her face in his hands, “I won’t make you say it again.”

Instead, Harry surged forward with such urgency and kissed her upper lip between his. Y/N’s eyes flutter shut but the whole world becomes brighter when she does. She was consumed by him, all of her senses had just become Harry. His tongue darted and tangled with hers, his hands pulling her in impossibly close trying to mould them together. 

When Harry’s lips pulled away, Y/N’s eyes remained shut and she was immediately desperate to experience that feeling all over again. Harry chuckled and she opened her eyes, his lips were pinker from the lipstick she was wearing, his eyes hazy and she was pretty sure her own pupils were carved into hearts just from looking at him.

“Can we go back to my place?” He asks.

Y/N didn’t even need a moment to think about it, “M’kay,”

. . . 

Harry could barely contain his desire as they made their way to his apartment. With a forceful push, the door swung open, and he pressed Y/N against it, his lips hungrily exploring every inch of her face and trailing down her neck. Despite her attempts to remove his shirt, her hands kept gravitating back to his tousled curls, pulling him closer for more intense kisses.

As they tumbled onto the couch, Harry hovered over her, his gaze filled with desire. "Harry," Y/N's voice quivered with a mixture of excitement and nervousness, "I-I've never done this before," she confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"What? Never kissed anyone? That's hard to believe because you're really good at it," Harry teased, peppering kisses along her neck.

"No, I mean... I've never..." Y/N trailed off, the implication clear.

Understanding dawned in Harry's eyes. "Is that what we're doing?" he smirked, enjoying her flustered reaction.

His expression softened. "Would it make you feel better if I told you I haven't either?" he confessed.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "What? But what about Astrid? You were together for a year."

"Astrid's family is Catholic," Harry explained. "And if it ever came to that, I don't think I could go through with it."

"Why?" Y/N questioned, her curiosity piqued.

"Because," Harry shrugged, "I've only ever wanted you."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, a rush of emotions flooding her. "Don't act so surprised," Harry chuckled.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Y/N inquired, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Because..." Harry paused, his gaze locking with hers, "I knew I needed to be careful with you.”

Y/N huffs, “I’m not fragile,” 

His smile is sweet and gentle when he replies, “Maybe not to everyone else,” His breath fans across her cheeks, “But you are to me.” 

Y/N melts into the couch when he kisses her again. She didn’t know kissing could be so magical but suddenly they were eight years old again where life was simpler and games were just for fun, books were read for enjoyment and Y/N’s emotions weren’t so difficult to navigate. 

It was strange having someone understand her the way Harry did. Her whole life she thought no one was paying attention to her, not even her own parents, but he had been admiring her from afar for most of their lives together. 

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry says, “I don’t want to rush this with you. I want to do it right,”

Y/N’s lips curve, “You could never do it wrong,” 

He holds her to him, their legs intertwined on the end of the couch. Y/N had always thought the court was where she was meant to be but maybe this was where she needed to be all along. After all, tennis would not be in her life if it weren’t for Harry. 

. . .

“Okay, you gotta go baby,” Harry slurs against her mouth as she continues to kiss him. 

“Wait,” She whines and he smiles, feeling delirious whilst their lips connect repeatedly. His hands reach are holding her thighs as they wrap around him, her hands in his hair pulling him closer. 

They hear Y/N’s name from the umpire once more and Harry has to find the strength to pull away. His lips ghost the skin of her cheek, “Y’ gonna go and win this?” 

“Mhm,” She sighs, releasing herself from his hold and grabbing her tennis bag.

“Hey,” Harry pulls her back into him and she makes a little ‘oof’ sound. He holds her face in his hands, “You think you’re so hard to read? Not with me,” 

Y/N huffs, “I’m nervous. What if I don’t win? She’s your ex-girlfriend and everybody’s made a big deal about this because they already think we’re dating.”

“We are though aren’t we?” Harry quirks a brow, “Dating?”

Y/N looks at him blankly before hitting him on the shoulder, “Obviously Harry!”

He chuckles, “Okay, okay,” His hands slide down her arms to thread his fingers with hers at their sides, he lifts them up so their hands are pressed against each other and leans in close, “Remember what I told you about your anger? And how it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen and now that you’re my girlfriend I’m allowed to say that but honestly it’s the hottest thing ever and I almost die everytime I watch you play and I see you get all mad and-”

“Harry, focus,” Y/N snapped before she grinned and kissed him quickly, “But thank you, your ass looks pretty good on the court too.”

“Are you being for real?” Harry says, his mouth falling open, but he shakes his head to bring himself back to the main point at hand. He couldn’t pull her away for another make out session not when they were already late as it was, “But anyway, this game is no different to the others just because you’re playing against Astrid. Use everything you have and channel it against her.” 

Y/N nods, her eyes twinkling when she looks at him, “You’re a pretty good coach,” 

“You’re a pretty hot tennis player,” 

“Okay stop,” She pulls away and grabs her tennis bag.

“What?” He throws his hands in the air and laughs, “Now that I’m your boyfriend can I freely look at your ass under that skirt whilst you play?”

Y/N spun on her heel and glared at him, “That’s misogyny.”

“But I’m obsessed with you,” He argues.

She pauses for a moment and then nods, “Fine but don’t make it obvious,” 

. . .

Harry stood on the sidelines, his heart pounding as he watched Y/N prepare for Astrid's final serve. The tension in the air was palpable; it was match point, and the game had been intense.

Harry had always considered Y/N the greatest tennis player he had ever seen. Maybe he was biased because he’d also been hopelessly infatuated with her since they were in third year but nothing compared to seeing his girl play on the court. 

He couldn’t seem to breathe as Astrid threw the ball into the air and hit it so hard with her racket, the sound echoed across the court. 

Y/N ran to retaliate, backhanding it straight back to her. His eyes stayed fixed on the girl who he had confessed his feelings to just last night. 

Astrid had tried to throw Y/N off multiple times during the game. Waving to her fans in the crowd whenever they would take a moments break or trying to remind her that she was Harry’s ex-girlfriend. Harry had told her to ignore it but Y/N didn’t exactly need advice on how to hit back at her opponent, she’d do it all in the game. 

It was a long match of back and forth before Y/N finally decided to go all in, hitting the ball with so much power and precision it landed in the line and bounced straight off the court. 

Crestwood students erupted in cheers as Astrid threw her racket to the ground having lost the game. Harry could feel the rush of elation over his entire body, his fist pumping the air when the scores appeared on screen with Y/N winning the entire thing. 

Y/N didn’t need to go anywhere to celebrate because the one person she wanted was standing right in front of her. She dropped her racket to the floor and ran into his open arms, “That’s my girl,” He spun her around, “You did it, baby, I knew you could.” 

Y/N was beaming, leaning down to kiss him in front of the whole crowd of people. “We’re going to the final,” She squealed, hugging him tightly. 

“You and me,” Harry responded. 

. . .

taglist: @storyschanging @lilbredsticc @esposa-do-harry @st-ev-ie @itschelseacisneros @hermionelove

[iwanthermidnightz]

When I think back on the Speak Now album, I get a lump in my throat. I have a feeling it will always be that way, because this period of time was so vibrantly aglow with the last light of the setting sun of my childhood. I made this album, completely self-written, between the ages of 18 and 20. I've spoken about how I feel like those ages are the most emotionally turbulent ones in a persons life. Maybe when I say that, I'm really just talking about myself.

I think they might just be the most idealistic, hopeful years too. At this point in my life, I had released my second album, Fearless. It became the breakthrough moment I'd always dreamt of, one that catapulted my career to new realms of success. It had brought with it a tidal wave of pressures and pitfalls and growing pains. All the while, I was encountering the milestones and checkpoints of normal teenage growth. I had cataclysmic crushes and brushes with heartache. I moved out of my parents' house and set my bags down in a new apartment. I hung photos on my own walls and decorated the space where I would sob and cackle and shatter and dream. Sometimes I felt like a grown up, but a lot of the time I just wanted to time travel back to my childhood bed, where my mom would read stories to me until I fell asleep.

In my darker moments, I was tormented by the doubt that swirled loudly around my ascent and my merits as an artist. I was trying to create a follow up to the most awarded country album in history, while staring directly into the face of intense criticism. I had been widely and publicly slammed for my singing voice and was first encountering the infuriating question that is unfortunately still lobbed at me to this day: does she really write her songs? Spoiler alert: I really, really do.

In the years since, I've developed a thicker skin about public criticism and the cynicism with which some people approach the music I make. At that time, it leveled me. I had these voices in my head telling me that I had the perfect chance and I blew it. I hadn’t been good enough. I had given it all I had and been found wanting.

I wanted to get better, to challenge myself, and to build on my skills as a writer, an artist, and a performer. I didn't want to just be handed respect and acceptance in my field. I wanted to earn it. To try and confront these demons, I underwent extensive vocal training and made a decision that would completely define this album: I decided I would write it entirely on my own. I figured, they couldn't give all the credit to my cowriters if there weren't any. But that posed a new challenge: It really had to be good. If it wasn't, I would be proving my critics right.

I had no idea how much this pain would shape me. That this was the beginning of my series of creative choices made by reacting to setbacks with defiance. That my stubbornness in the face of doubters and dissenters would become my coping mechanism through my entire career from that point forward. This exact pattern of enacting my own form of rebellion when I feel broken is exactly why you're reading these very words, and I'm re-releasing this album now.

I went through my first worldwide scandal (the mic grab seen around the world). I experienced the weirdness of trying to get to know a boy while a swarm of paparazzi surrounds the car. Media contacting my publicist for an official statement on why two teenagers broke up. These are weird experiences to have at any age, but even more surreal when you're 19.

I had the nagging sense that in the most intense moments of my life, I had frozen. I had said nothing publicly. I still don't know if it was out of instinct, not wanting to seem impolite, or just overwhelming fear. But I made sure to say it all in these songs. I decided to call the album Speak Now. It was a play on the speak now or forever hold your peace' moment in weddings, but for me it symbolized a chance to respond to the chatter and commentary around my own life.

Some of these emotional revelations were surprising to people. Some expected anger and instead got compassion and empathy with 'Innocent'. Some expected a kiss-off breakup song but instead got a hand-on-heart apology, 'Back to December. It was an album that was the most precious to me because of its vast extremes. It was unfiltered and potent. In my mind, the saddest song I've ever written is 'Last Kiss'. My most scathing is 'Dear John' and my most wistfully romantic is 'Enchanted'.

I'll be forever proud of setting a goal and seeing it through. I'lI always feel shivers all over when I remember singing 'Long Live' to close the show every night on tour. The outstretched hands of those bright and beautiful faces of the fans. Their support was like an open palm that reached out and helped me up off the ground when others were, frankly, mean.

These days I make my choices for those people, the ones who thought I had been good enough all along. I try to speak my mind when I feel strongly, in the moment I feel it. I'm still idealistic and earnest about the music I make, but I'm less crushed when people mock me for it. I know now that one of the bravest things a person can do is create something with unblinking sincerity, to put it all on the line. I still sometimes wish I was a little kid again in a tiny bed, before I ever grew up.

I always looked at this album as my album, and the lump in my throat expands to a quivering voice as I say this. Thanks to you, dear reader, it finally will be.

I consider this music to be, along with your faith in me, the best thing that's ever been mine.

Yours,

Taylor

[pathologicalreid]

If your down could u write an imagine where reader is new to the bau and Spencer is just coming back from jail and he makes reader nervous and when he notices he starts to mess with her nothing to wild but he teases her every now and again -🖤

drop | S.R.

in which reid seems to be there every time you drop something

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: fluff, lighthearted teasing, clumsiness, obliviousness, reader is mentioned to be shorter than 5'7" (sorry it just worked for the story)

word count: 1.1k

a/n: hey anon! thanks for requesting, i think i may have verged away from the request on accident. also this is the one i posted about earlier that had been deleted by word so i had to rewrite it and therefore it's not very thoroughly proofread. hope you enjoy.

It came as a shock, most people needed to apply to the BAU and even then, they spent years trying to get in. You had gotten a call four months ago and were told you were leaving IOD in the Hoover building and would be expected at the BAU the next morning.

Years ago, you had a run-in with Emily Prentiss while she was heading Interpol in London, but you didn’t think she remembered you – let alone wanted to work with you. She brought you on to the team to help catch Peter Lewis

Now, Peter Lewis was dead, and Spencer Reid had been exonerated. You thought your time with the team was done, but when Emily caught you packing up your things, she told you she had no intentions of sending you back to the International Operation Division.

So, you made yourself comfortable at your desk across from Luke’s, even adding a picture of your family, just to make it seem a little lived-in.

It was something you’d had drilled into your head by your father: if you’re not early, you’re late. That was the reason why you were usually the first to the BAU, only sometimes being beaten by Dr. Reid.

Penelope said he was harmless, but that didn’t change the fact that he made you nervous. Not nervous in the sense that you were scared of him, but nervous in the way that he was something of a legend in the FBI.

Even more so since his recent release from prison.

You felt a sort of disconnect from the team when it came to them trying to get Reid out of prison, whenever Nadie Ramos came up in conversation, you picked up your files on Mr. Scratch and distracted yourself. Of course, you helped where you were needed, but you didn’t know him like they did.

This particular morning, you had beaten him to the office, taking your spot at your desk and flipping through a file you had abandoned in the name of sleep last night. A slight crash made you jump so badly that you fumbled with the papers in an attempt to not drop them. You looked up to see Spencer had dropped his bag on his desk, “Good morning, Y/N.” He greeted you.

Blankly, you stare at him for a moment before giving him a half smile. “Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you responded.

“I told you that you could just call me Reid, or Spencer,” he said, sitting down at his own desk.

Nodding, you found yourself interested in your coffee cup. “Yes, you did,” you took a deep breath. “Good morning, Spencer,” you tried again, offering him a fuller smile.

That seemed to appease him for now because he flipped open his own files and started inspecting them.

As you were preparing for the 10 o’clock debrief, you found yourself in the office kitchenette, pouring a cup of coffee from the pot that had been brewed an indeterminate number of minutes ago. Vaguely aware of the person standing behind you, you turned around to find Spencer, holding his own mug in both hands. “Oh! Hey,” you said, mentally smacking the palm of your hand to your forehead.

You moved out of the way as you added cream to your mug, watching as Spencer poured his coffee and followed it up with an almost equal amount of sugar. As you were about to make your way to the round table room, Spencer spoke, “You know, before 1975 you wouldn’t even have been able to be an FBI agent.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you stopped in your tracks and turned to face him, “Wait, what? Why?”

“Before 1975 people shorter than 5’7” couldn’t be FBI agents,” He responded plainly, but there was a bit of mischief in his eyes.

You looked at him curiously, warmth flooding your cheeks. You stammered something about being late and rushed to the roundtable room, taking your usual spot next to Luke, and watching what Garcia presented to you—pretending not to notice Spencer across the table from you.

The BAU had been asked to consult on a case, but there were no precincts that had asked the team to make a trip to them. You had finished the paperwork on a recently closed case and got up to bring it to Emily, stuffing the papers in a file folder, you turned around and ran into Spencer. “Sorry!” You squeaked out, dropping to the floor to pick up the papers. To your surprise, he crouched down next to you and helped to pick up the papers. “Oh, jeez, now they’re all out of order,” you moped, setting the papers back down on your desk.

“It was my fault,” Spencer said. The honesty in his voice made your shoulders slouch.

Shaking your head, you smiled at him, “It’s okay, Spencer. They’re just papers.”

He looked at you like there was something more he wanted to say, but he didn’t, he just turned from your desk and walked out of the bullpen, leaving you staring.

When you finally brought your papers to Emily, she asked you to close the door behind you. Patiently, you stood in her office while she added your file to the menacing pile she kept on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask how you’re doing. With the BAU, I mean,” she told you, leaning over her desk.

“Good, I think. I’ve gotten very few complaints so far,” you told her, unable to help the uneasiness you felt. Had someone said something?

Emily nodded, her dark hair shining with the movement, “Good, I haven’t heard anything negative about you at all. Which is actually uncommon for the BAU.”

You let the rest of the day pass, but as the team trickled out of the bullpen, only you, Emily, and Spencer were left.

At the sound of rustling, you looked over to see that Spencer was packing up his things and putting them into his familiar leather bag. Resting your cheek on your hand, you went back to your case file, marking thoughts in the margins.

Jumping when something hit your desk, making the metal rattle, you dropped your pen on the ground. Peering up to see Spencer giving you a lopsided smile before he bent down to pick up your pen, “Hey, at least you didn’t drop a bunch of papers again.”

You flushed as your eyes followed him out the glass doors of the BAU, turning around to see Emily watching on, leaning on the railing outside her office, looking between you and Spencer as if she knew something you didn’t.

[puhmpken]

Author’s Note: This one is a filler since I am still working on “Dairy of the Obsessed” ..this one was spontaneous lmfaoo! Also requests are open feel free to give me story ideas

This has BEEN edited 🥳🎉

Warning ⚠️-> If you’re under the age of 18+ DONT interact with this post, this is your only & final warning! I do not & will not take responsibility for anything further!

You have been warned

Title: A Shape-Shifter’s Dilemma

Alastor x Reader Oneshot

written + edited by @puhmpkins-blog 🎃

W/C: 5.1K 😀 oops maybe too much lol my imagination got the better of me but please enjoy!

You always questioned where Alastor your husband would go. Most of the time you would brush it off and not think of it—Overlord stuff.

But one night while Al and you slept in the same bed he tossed and turned in his sleep you could assume he was having a nightmare

“honey..?” You said in a low ruff voice as you gently placed a hand on Alastor who stops his moving before the word he mutters out was

“charlie..”

...Now that is odd. Why would a overlord like Alastor be saying the princess of hells name in the middle of his sleep?

It made you raise a eyebrow, and questioned him.

The day following did not seem to ease your nerves one bit, he again in rather ..a rush to leave the manor

Standing next to the front doors door you watched as he moved back and forth through the living room looking for whatever he was desiring

“What's rushing for darling? This is rather out of character” You said as your eyes watched him move throughout the room

“Oh nothing to concern yourself with dearie!~ Just overlord business”

You hummed back at his bland cryptic response not wanting to pick it apart–you just decided not to question it and save yourself the energy

“Right. Just don’t go get yourself in trouble” You said smiling at Alastor standing infront of you, slightly towering over you as you fixed and cleaned off any dirt or lent that got caught on his suit as he was in your words rushing around

Moving your hands away from him, your eyes locked with his as Alastor’s reddish brown eyes, a flicker of amusement dancing within them. His lips curved from a small smile into a sly smirk, revealing his pointy teeth.

“Trouble?,” he questioned, making his one of his eyebrows raise in a cocky way , “Why..thats my middle name, my dear.” He said clasping and holding both your hands as he stared at you, before shrugging “But perhaps maybe I’ll make an exception—for you.”

You rolled your eyes to your husband's playful antics, before giving Alastor his goodbye kiss and waving him bye as he sinks into his shadow disappearing leaving you alone in the manor.

A moment of silent filling the air before

“Now, let me figure out WHAT’S actually happening.”

And that’s how this whole shenanigan began with you.

You see, while Alastor might have been expected to marry some ordinary demon, you in your case, were far from ordinary. As a shape-shifting demon, you possessed the ability to transform your identity at will, becoming a whole new demon or a manifestation of whatever your imagination desired.

The only limitations were those of your own imagination or..if Alastor was able to sniff you out, thanks to his keen sense of smell. HOWEVER, avoiding detection was usually easy enough… for the most part.

Weeks to months you’ve been keeping up on this “routine” of cat and mouse but all was paying off.

You found out Al has been to much of your dismay harboring rather a couple of secrets hidden and tucked from you. Other than your known overlord stuff he was a suppose helper at a hotel called the “Hazbin Hotel” that princess charlie owns and works at with a couple of other people almost made you drop with laughter when you first seen Alastor helping out with the hotel, you had to tell Rosie about this later.

It was easy to stay undercover and even easier to get close to him without him realizing and knowing it was you.

You made up your mind weeks ago that his territory would be fine, if you step away here and there to follow Alastor to the hotel

And that’s how you end up to the present day you.

You weren’t satisfied with knowing Alastor helps at a hotel. Yes indeed it was a shocker but that’s all? You were still puzzled on why Al said Charile name to began with

Alastor hasn’t suspected a thing yet due to him kinda being busy at the hotel or up in his office.

On the rare times you would see him, he was up in the upper balcony with nifty laughing with her, you couldn’t hear what they were talking about but knowing the both of them.. it was rather something strange or gruesome

As another shifted ended, the day ended with you back at the manor seating in your comfortable loveseat, reading a book before mere minutes Al got back, making it seem as normal as possible to not raise suspicions

The next day as things moved along you wished Alastor a goodbye as you watched him shift into the shadows and disappear off.

Waiting a few minutes after he left you then began to get ready for your shift at the hotel, that first started with showering to rid yourself of your natural scents–you didn’t want to be tackled down by your husband as soon as you walk in through the door.

Finishing up with your shower you stepped out spraying some random cheap perfume you had bought to scramble Al scents.

As you began styling yourself from being a lady of the 1920s with elegant beauty and designer dresses to a ripped petite coat, old bleach stained black skirt with a hole at the bottom with a finish messy down hairstyle

You laughed at your reflection

Seeing what you looked like in your normal form made you laugh. Alastor would probably gasp and dropped to his knees at the things you wore.

You walked out the house being sure to not be seen

Successfully making it past the fenced gates and out of the woods you came to the main roads of hell shifting yourself into a hell creature you have been using for this whole little “spying game”

A lengthy white fur being that stood, 6ft having two red stripes covering both arms and legs. Your (h/c) just reached the middle of your back and on your head sat two cream colored pointy horns, you kept your sharp teeth to still be able to scare off unwanted demons if the occasion was to rise

Checking yourself out in the reflection of the glass windows, you made sure everything was correct: your look, your attire and your scent.

You started to walk to the hotel, the sidewalk you have taken at least more than ten times.

As you inched closer to the hotel you for safe measures stopped and sprayed yourself down one more time in cheap perfume emptying the bottle before tossing it off in the distances and kept walking

Getting inside the hotel was an easy task,

You said hello to everyone vaggie, angeldust, sir pentious and his eggo children, huskier and nifty.

‘Everyone is down here practically–well almost everyone’ looking around furrowing your eyebrows together

“Where Charlie? She's usually with you, Vag?” You said to Vaggie who was sitting on the couch next to Angel looking at the TV

“She should be in her office right now Lucy. I think she also wanted to talk to you” Vaggie said kinda nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders towards the end as she looked up from the tv to you as you nodded your head

Making a hum noise you turned on your heel and began walking to Charlie office

Knocking before you entered, Charlie sat at her desk looking at papers

“Helluva morning Charlie. Vaggie was telling me you were looking for me, I just wanted to speak to you about what you wanted” You said as you walked towards her desk and seating down in one of the chairs across from it

Charlie still having her go lucky smile on her face nodded putting down a couple of papers “Yes Vaggie was right! I was looking for you Lucy!” She said pausing as she slide over a little stack of paperwork, “It’s nothing serious promise! I just wanted you to run these up to Al~!”

You nodded silently thanking hell for the opportunity to be closer to Al

“Yeah of course I can do that” You said standing up taking the paperwork in your black gloved hands “Consider it done Charlie!” You said walking out of her office as she screamed a thank you from behind a closed office door

You hummed quietly to yourself as you walked up the flights of stairs to get to Alastor’s door

Minutes passed before you got to the door that read in bold letter

“Alastor, Radio Demon”

Knocking lightly on the door, ‘he should be in there?’

“…”

‘No response..hm that weird’ You thought as you looked over both your shoulders before you placed a gloved hand on your door handle twisting the knob before it opened slowly

!!!CREAAAK!!!

Your body mentally cringed at the noise as you pushed the door more open glancing around one more time you slipped in the crack of his door, gently shutting it closed once you entered

‘Wow’ Was the first word that escaped your mouth looking into his room now, it's his office yes, but what was beyond it that made it almost feel like you were..alive it was the bayou swamp/forest it was just how you remembered before you died all those years ago..breathtaking

Scanning the dimly lit area with the only light being a moonless night and the few fireflies that infested the air, you didn’t see Alastor anywhere in sight, just a table with a chair on it in the middle of the grassy forest.

You bite your lip gently as you looked between the paper work and the forest before groaning knowing your mind was made up, as soon as you laid your eyes on the bayou. Leaving the paperwork for Alastor sitting on his wooden desk before you walked passed it and too the bayou landscape filling as it was almost a dream

Walking slowly into the grassy area with a smile as you breathed in the smell of forest closing your eyes and taking in the sound

It was a wonderful moment of quiet before the light noise of static in the forest made you snap your eyes open,.. that’s Alastor getting closer into range of where you were standing.

Being lucky and hopeful you HOPE he didn’t see you in the clearing just standing their with your eyes closed

You ran and hide behind some bushes and trees that were away from the table and chair you were standing near–and just in the nick of time

You could hear and see him from where you were hiding the full static sound of a certain radio demon as he hummed a tune with a deer slumped dead over on his shoulder, carrying it with ease as he slammed it down on the table, you examined as he sat down making a fork appear out of thin air as he leaned his staff against his chair, before disappearing into air as he began to eat the deer raw pulling at its meat–made you want to gag in disgust

‘He could’ve cooked it’ you thought watching him munch down on his hunt you can assume. Licking his lips after a couple of bites he wiped his mouth with a napkin like a true unhinged gentleman

Before he cleared his throat his eyes shutting but his smile spreading wider, causing you to get goosebumps

“I know your there” He said making you do a double take ‘he knows i am here?’ you thought blinking as you didn’t buy his bluff

“I can sense your presence,” he drawled, his voice dripping with a sinister charm.

“You can’t hide from me.” He opened his crimson eyes as they began scanning the area. You kept your movement still as he scanned over the area you were hiding. You saw how he squinted his eyes almost immediately at the bush you were in

“Come out, come out wherever you are” He sang out in a haunting tone

“You do know as a predator.”He started in a cheery tone before his voice dropped to a dual and deep one “ I can smell you out.” His voice ringing of no radio filter

Your heart began to sped up

‘fffuck’ Is what you thought before you seen Alastor disappear into thin air—it wasn’t a surprise you were accustomed to that but you couldn’t help your heart starting to speed up as he vanished into the air

“Run,” a disembodied whisper breathed against your nape

Took you no time of convincing as you ran not looking behind you as you kept your eyes forward only hearing the sound of something chasing behind,

You hit left and right, hoping to get Alastor off of you

As you take another right you ran behind a tree, hiding behind its figure as you heard and felt Alastor run pass you

You have never done something like this, it was rather fun but dangering

Peaking your head from behind the tree after what felt like entirety you didn’t see Alastor for safe measures you transformed yourself to a small forest animal, just in case Alastor wants to sneak behind you..again

Following near your foot trail from the tree branches, you jumped from branch to branch with ease as you stopped once more hearing static noise come from nowhere, you smirked in your creature form as Alastor wouldn’t suspect a thing

Watching from above, his form essentially appeared from thin air as he had a wide smirk and a look of hunger in his eyes as he looked at the spot you were suppose to be standing

“Where are you~?” He said

“…”

After a moment of looking in all the places he would expect and assume for someone to hide, he stood in the middle of the forest arms crossed as his ears flickered now and then

“Now where did they go? I was rather hungrier for something other than deer” He said you can tell by his voice he was almost dumb struck how could he still be able to smell you but your nowhere near..weird?

You slowly shifted yourself backwards away from Alastor as you didn’t want to alarm him nor give away your hiding, you were almost clear before a vibration was felt throughout the branch and in one second the branch snapped as you land ontop of Alastor head

“...”

“...”

It was quiet not either one of you dared to move before you felt your body being picked up fully by his hand and now..the jig was up

“What do we have here..” He said looking at you “A small diversion from the person thats in here?”Alastor’s gaze bore into you, dissecting your very essence.

A wicked glint in his eyes began to take place, “Well I guess since I couldn't catch my actual food, I shall eat you little one” Pausing to smug smile before continuing “Bad luck for you?~” He said as he lifted you above his mouth

You squirmed in his hands, heart racing.

‘This can’t be how (y/n)'s story ends’, you thought desperately.

Just as he was about to drop you into his abyssal maw, you shifted—your disguise falling away

You landed on top of Alastor, who staggered back, utterly unprepared.

“Don’t eat me,” you blurted out, adrenaline surging. Alastor stood, bemusement etching his features.

“Lucy?!” Alastor’s voice crackled through the air, a radio filter distorting his words. The static hummed, raising the hairs on your arms.

“Why are you in here?” His step was deliberate, menacing. You retreated, heart pounding.

“How did you make yourself appear small? Then big?” His eyes narrowed, dissecting you. Each step he took, you mirrored, until your back pressed against a tree—literally.

Your mind raced for a lie, an escape. But then it happened—the slip up, the unraveling.

You shifted into your true form, the one Alastor would recognized.

“(Y/N)?!” His voice lost the radio filter, and you met his gaze. Confusion etched his features. You bit your bottom lip, a awkward laugh escaping.

“Erm, surprise…?” You said as you watched him back up a little from you a smile now spreading wider by the minute as the static was the buzz in the air

As it was overtook by the applause he started to emitted as he turned the other way starting to laugh

“A surprise indeed dearie who would’ve know my wife could pull such a thing off” He started.. you didn’t like how this was sounding as you moved away from the tree watching him as he created slight distances between him and yourself

You watched as a nagging feeling was telling you to start running but ignoring that you spoke up “Alastor I-” He cut you off with his words

As he appeared behind you—the Radio Demon, with crimson eyes and a dangerous smile. His arm encircled your waist, pulling you closer. “You had the entire hotel convinced of this Lucy woman,” he murmured, his voice devoid of filters. “Bravo, dearie. Truly bravo.”

You didn’t like how he was taking the situation as what he said to you in a flare voice on confirmed how much you actually DID piss off Alastor with this little disguise

“You should run now.”

Those four words holding a threat of the unknown and you wanting to at least talk for yourself turned to face Alastor his crimson eyes only reflecting the pure chaos he was about to inflict on this game of catch with you, as you shook your head

“Please let me explain” You urged, desperation coloring your voice.

“5” Alastor your dear husband replied, holding out his hand. The air crackled with tension

“Al please—…”

“4..” He sung out as he closed his eyes, standing tall. One hand rested behind his back, the other poised like a pendulum. The smile of him showing his sharp teeth made you swallow harshly

“3” He warned out to you knowing your still there as he opened one eye to look at you breathing out short “Hmm..a shame your going to let me catch you so easy” He said shutting his open eye closed

“2 dearie” He warned out now holding two fingers as he began to shift in his stances his neck elongated he was slowly shifting into his demon form, and that’s when you finally decide to run

You huffed and panted as you switched your form a couple of times to give you longer distances away from Alastor as you made it deeper into the Bayou the ground under you turning slightly squishy as you kept running not interested to turn around

You ran for what felt like hours before you stopped down near a swamp bank hunched on you knees as you gain your second wind, taking a few more breathes you stood up, the air was quiet you couldn’t hear the static of Al, so you have to be far from him? or he just turned off that noise so he could stalk and pounce on you

Whatever the case maybe you took a breathe in and out as you looked ahead of the lake, nothing but more forest—

You thought different ideas like turning into a winged creature and flying back towards the rooms door to get out of here, but you didn’t know how high you could fly and since Alastor can’t fly nor has wings, you doubt that celling is high enough to get high enough where he couldn’t hit you out of air

Best option was to keep running or go into the swamp water, it would give you better opportunity, reflecting your options about it you heard the ground beneath you move with vibrations ‘fuck he already found me’ you thought coming to the defeat you were going to let yourself be caught but that was until you seen that fucken demon form mere seconds before he seen you, you bailed out dipping yourself slowly in the cold water taking a big breathe before dunking yourself under

Seconds stretched into eternity as you held your breath, your lungs screaming for release. The vibrations in the ground intensified, and you knew he was near. What was Alastor going to do when he catched you? He wouldn’t actually hurt his wife? You thought of as your heart hammered against your ribs, and you wondered if you should be actually concerned

Alastor scanned the area, seeking his dear wife. You pressed deeper into the water, your head submerged further, only the top part of your head concealed by a stray lilypad.

Minutes passed—or perhaps it was mere seconds—before you surfaced. Gasping for air, you wiped water from your eyes. Alastor wasn’t in sight.

You continued walk towards the edge of the pond before crawling out of the pond, lying down on the edge of it your knees still submerged as you sighed out in relief, shutting your eyes for what felt like a second

Before you heard, the clearing of a throat—a sound that sent shivers down your spine. Opening your eyes standing above you was the oh-so-familiar radio demon. You smiled, but before you could vanish into the water, Alastor’s grip closed around your arms. His purr was a velvet blade against your skin.

“Come now, darling,” he drawled, his tone deceiving. “We don’t want you to get wet. Let me assist you in this rather…exchange.” His strength pulled you back, and you squirmed, defiance flaring. But Alastor was stronger, and you found yourself pressed against his chest, dripping and caught.

“Let go,” you demanded, but he only laughed—a predator savoring its prey

“Now, dear, this is part of the game.” His eyes bore into yours, crimson flames dancing. “I’ve caught you, and now you’ll be the prize I win.” His tongue flicked across his lips

As Alastor carried you through the forest he hummed a simple tone, making you more on edge

You both arrived at another clearing?

“This isn’t where we started Al” You said as he set you down, gently helping you get up, as your eyes shifted from the scenery to him

Alastor’s gaze was going up and down on you, as you caught little symbols manifesting themselves around him as he was now a step or two away from you

“Come here” He said in a commanding tone, a chain manifesting around your neck as your eyes widen to metal chain outline with the color of green. Your hands immediately shot to your neck trying to grip and claw at it. You felt a tug come towards Al before you leaned your body away from it trying to keep space, digging your feet lightly in the ground

One real yank got you to move forward unprepared, the earth meant your face very quick and you instantly felt blood in your mouth

“Ah, be good for me, Y/N, and just obey,” he murmured, his grip unyielding. You crawled on your knees and hands, inching closer to him. The chain around your neck tightened, lifting you off the ground. Alastor’s crimson eyes bore into yours.

“My dear sweet little wife, Y/N,” he drawled, his voice devoid of filters. Each word carried weight, punctuated by his southern accent. “You, dearie, violated our little agreement.” His fingers traced the chain. “We had an understanding, did we not?”

Your breaths came in ragged gasps. “I didn’t mean to Al” you whispered

His chuckle echoed through the clearing as he lowered you gently to the ground, ensuring the fall didn’t harm you.

“So, my doe,” he began, his voice a velvet blade, “please give me an explanation. Why has my wife been running around disguised as a Lucy person, working—” His fingers closed around your hands, the chain that had bound you vanishing into thin air. “Her dear, softly delicate hands at a hotel that deserves none of her attention?” His words hung in the air, a question wrapped in menace. “Rather than be in a manor that belongs to her and her husband? Have I done something wrong?”

You sighed out as you nodded taking your hands out of his, to his displeasure “All this started because i heard you mumble in your sleep rather a month or so ago..princess name Charlie” You said with embarrassment flaming your checks as you looked away from Alastor not wanting to know what expression he held

The air was quiet between the both of you, not a word was spoken—You felt like you were holding your breathe with the tension in the air before you felt the touch of your husband on your hands again

“Mon cher~” He purred out making you look at him, his face of course held a wide smile but the look in his eyes held anger with something else glimmering around it “Nothing could replace you”

“No hotel” He said his hand holding out your arm as he kissed at the palm before saying, “No demon” Alastor continued raising his head kissing you at the center of your arm, looking at you in the eyes before kissing more up your arm while saying “And certainly no Lucifer daughter could take my eye off of something as ravishing as you my doe~” Al kissing up you between each pause as he at your neck slowly peaking at it having you basically in his lap with your back towards him, as you moved your head to side to let him continue as he only chuckle at the gesture

Al with his free hand grabbing at your chin to make you look at him as he stared into your (e/c) “But my dear mon cher, you agree at my words as if you understand, but it seems as though you forgotten who I belong too” He said letting go of your chin as both of his hands traveled down to your hips resting there “You forget who's name causes thrill of different emotions within me, so let me remind you~”

Alastor leaned into you, as you meant him half way kissing him

A passionate kiss with some underline aggression made the kiss much more thrilling as Alastor fought for dominance with you trying to dominate over him

With a deep chuckle he pulled away from the kiss, “You being defiant won’t end well for you dear” You looked up too him as you bite your lower lip holding on too his bow tie slowly undoing it as his hands trailed up and down your legs

“No words so be it” He shrugged before pushing you down to the ground, your back laying on the grass as he spread your legs open wide, everything on full display for him to see

He leaned his head down as his ears pushed back towards his head as his eyes half lidded looking up to a red face you “Mm~Darling your so intoxicating with that look on your face” He said before plunging his head down open his mouth before eating your pussy

Your eyes shut closed as your hands went immediately to his hair gripping and pulling at it, as you mumbled out moans holding onto Alastor head down as he kept eating you out

“Al~!” You said in low moan as you felt yourself starting to come undone down there “Alastor..I..I am going to—”

Before you could muster and get out the words to warn your husband, the sensation of Alastor mouth moved away from you leaving you in almost blank state, so close to clarity but yet so far …

You whimpered as you looked down to Alastor who’s face was smirking as he shook his head licking his lips slightly “You think after the charade you pulled your going to get to cum that quick and easily?” He said and laughed “Dearie we are just starting.”

Alastor in a instances flipped you over making you rise to all fours with help of his shadows tendrils you were now ass up face down, with your arms being held down by the shadows tendrils, you whimpered trying to move against them as you felt a burning sensation on your bottom causing you to move it from side to side

Alastor watched in trans like state as you moved your ass after he smacked it only making his boner go harder, as he rub on it through his pants

“Al, let me out of this! I don’t want to be—Ahh~!”You said feeling a familiar feeling slide in you as your eyes rolled behind you, you clawed at the grass alastor pushed all himself in you

“Mmm~There you go Mon Cher~” Alastor said rolling his hips as his head tilted backwards, both of his hands gripping on your hips keeping them in place as he began slowly pumping in and out of you

You moaned as you moved with his thrusts, arching your back as Al grunts and low moans could be heard

Alastor started to pick up in speed as you could only speak out the simple word “Al~” Which was music to the radio demons ears

“Oh (Y/n)~” He said as he kept up fast with his thrusts moving one his hand to your hair, gripping at it pulling you backwards as your head flung back

“Open your eyes.” He said making you slowly open your eyes as meant with the eyes of crimson red ones as his smile was deceiving as his eyes showed pure lust that was feeling “Fuck.” He said as gripped tighter on your hair yanking almost at the root as you moaned with each thrust

“I am going to finish in you.” He said in not a question but as a command as you tighten around him bring him closer as he shut his eyes letting go of your hair before opening his mouth and bitting at the back of your neck as you moaned closing your eyes feeling yourself reaching edge as you reached climax sametime as Alastor

Couple months later drawed by quick before you knew it you were back at the manor, watching over Al’s territory sipping tea as you smiled mindlessly, yeah there was really nothing to worry about.

FIN!!!

Extra! Extra!

(Y/n) and Al strolling through the park. hand in hand as Al hums a tune

Al: “I do say mon cher, I think I never told you why I was saying Charlie's name”

Y/n: “Yeah you haven’t, do share”

Al: “You wouldn’t believe it! Charlie in my dream was trying to paint my Radio Studio, it was all going to be rainbows with fluffy pink unicorns if I didn’t say her name”

Y/n: deadpans

Al: Only telling you the truth dearie~!sings out

Y/n: Your truth is utter dogshit sometimes

Al: gasp Darling!

[signedkoko]

(separate) lucifer and striker with an s/o who fell from the heavens headcanons!! the more closer they get, the more they realize their s/o was one of the angels on the council but didn’t condone the extermination — of which, they were casted down to hell.

Lucifer | Striker X Reader [Romantic]

In which they know you are a fallen angel, but not the extent to which you protected hell. Reader is genderneutral.

Lucifer could sense your presence quite fast

But only because you weren't an exterminator—no, you were something far stronger

It pained him to see a new angel cast down, the first since he was, bloodied and caught in the fiery pit you'd have to call home

He understood you must have been an angel that came along after him, though, because he didn't recognize you

Either way, Lucifer offered you a place to stay and let you adjust to life in hell through his lens—a safe house where demons couldn't bother you as much

Of course, he also wanted to make sure the news of your existence didn't get out

He could only imagine the kinds of people who might want to get their hands on a fresh angel

Even though he was cast down himself, Lucifer is very flattered that you know him and that you speak so highly of him

You quickly worm your way into his heart, and he loves talking to you a lot about his past and all the things he kept buried within him

Even down here, you still seemed happy, although a tad uneasy

He won't pressure you for your backstory too much, but with his knowledge of heaven he is able to gather that you were at least a mid-ranking angel on the council

Your position exactly, he wasn't sure

He only found out after he spoke about his daughter's plan with the hotel

" Thats a wonderful idea! They may cast me down for demanding an end to extermination, but I won't let them ruin your daughters redemption plans. "

You dropped it so casually that he almost missed it, swooning at how supportive of Charlie you were

Actually chokes

Please give him a moment to catch his breath because, wait, really?

That explains a lot, at least

Of course, heaven would cast down the most beautiful of angels just for being kind to even the most damned beings

That same anger within him roars back to life, both for you being shut down and for how he, too, was treated in heaven

He'd make sure your life was far better here, no matter what it took

Being a fallen angel is already an extremely worrisome background for Striker, especially following his hate for royalty

Not that a fallen angel is royalty, but the power dynamic is hard for him to get over, as guilty as he feels now for holding it against you

When you first met, he saved you from another bounty hunter

Saved is the wrong word

He stole you so he could get a prize himself

But it all backfired when you were just so kind and curious, and offering you up to some terrible people didn't feel like the right move

Striker told himself he'd hold onto you until he knew the true value of an angel, but that may have just been him stalling for time

Either way, your charm worked wonders, and now he was stuck with the most attention-grabbing partner in all of hell

Oh well, he knew he could protect you

While he was curious about your life in heaven, Striker was extremely used to not asking questions about others past

But the more he knew, the more he wanted to know

Every few months, you'd tell a story that revealed a new interesting piece of information, things that made him wonder what you had to have done to be so harshly cast down

It all made sense when he puzzled it together one afternoon, when you were particularly fond of your past memories

" I hope Em isn't in trouble too. "

" Why so? "

" Well, she also thought killing demons was pretty bad... "

" Of course, hun. "

As usual he nods along with you before he freezes and jumps out of his chair

" Hol on now, what? "

Striker is able to puzzle things together fast, and he's not sure if he's more pissed at the angels above you or if he's surprised you felt that way

He'd always assumed no angels thought good of demons, but this changed things

Next extermination, he wants to have a hand at capturing one of those winged fuckers and seeing if he can force some more out of them

Author's Note - DEVIL FINALLY I GOT TO UR REQ!!! More Striker content, love to see it- and ofc Lucifer, who I know is about to be eaten up by every person in this god forsaken community. Thank you for requesting 🖤

[guiltyasdave]

i can see the end as it begins

chapter 1 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You meet your father’s new friend for the first time, but he’s a lot different than you expected.

word count: ~5k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad isn’t a nice person), able-bodied reader, reader has hair, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation kink, spanking, pet names, let me know if i missed anything 🫶🏻

a/n: my favorite person on this app @joelscurls planted the idea of dbf!dave in both our heads and after many many feral dms, porn gifs, plotting and just generally freaking out, we have finally managed to put the first chapter together :) we’re currently planning with 4 chapters in total that we’re gonna take turns posting, so go follow jess if you don’t already (criminal behavior tbh)! i’m beyond excited to be able to do this with someone whose writing i adore sooo much, we’re both beyond excited about this story, and we hope that you enjoy it 🫶🏻

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics!

“I want a divorce.”

It’s been almost a year since Carol spoke those words into the tense silence of their dining room and they still echo in Dave’s mind as if it happened yesterday.

He doesn’t mourn the marriage, doesn’t miss Carol, not in the way he probably should. But he mourns the life that he had, the perfect suburban family, the stability. A little boring maybe, but safe, calming. Predictable.

And he misses his girls. He misses the sound of small feet on the hardwood-floor greeting him as soon as he opened the front door, giggly exclamations of “Daddy’s home!” and tiny hands grabbing at him, begging to be picked up. Now he opens the door to an empty, silent apartment. He has them every second weekend, which he rationally knows makes the most sense with his often irregular working hours, but it’s simply not enough. It’s like time is constantly running through his fingers and he just can’t make it stop, can’t bring his life back under control.

He’s doing what he can to keep himself busy, anything to keep his mind occupied and his thoughts from spiraling into that pit of loneliness that he’s found himself in. He started reconnecting with friends, going out with his colleagues and contacting people from his army days that he hasn’t spoken to in years, trying to build a social life outside of his family and the neighbors that he no longer lives next to.

It’s tedious, making him realize that he really doesn’t like people all that much, but it’s better than spending his evenings by himself and wondering where things went so awfully wrong.

He spends a lot of time with Jim, one of the guys that trained with him and that he always got along with rather well. Jim was delighted when Dave called, promptly inviting him to join him at golf the next day, which somehow turned into a weekly event on Dave’s schedule. It’s nice enough, giving him some sense of routine and he finds that he’s rather good at it. Jim runs his own company by now, the thing that he invests all of his time in, which got him a lot of money, but also a divorce.

It’s all he talks about, too, but it’s fine with Dave, not being forced to contribute that much to the conversation – because really, there’s not much worth mentioning happening in his life anyway – and he’s content to just nod along and hum in agreement most of the time.

Jim has a daughter too, a lot older than Dave’s though, already out of the house, attending law school. He can tell that Jim is proud when he talks about her, but it always seems to be connected to achievements, an underlying pressure to their relationship that leaves Dave a little uneasy and he silently vows to himself to never apply any sort of conditions to his love for his daughters.

But he's never met the young woman and he probably never will, so he doesn’t dwell on it, because what does it matter to him, really?

You huff a sigh as the familiar sight of the country club that your father loves to frequent comes into view and hand the Uber driver a tip before sliding out of the car.

You had thought you’d be getting a night out with your Dad, just the two of you, a rare occurrence. Not that you had been particularly looking forward to being grilled about law school, your grades, networking and internship opportunities, but at least he would be listening to you, paying attention. Joking that he was making sure that the money he put into your education was well invested, a joke that felt less funny every time you were reminded just how financially dependent you were on your father.

If the topic of conversation wasn’t school, it was what kind of acquaintances you’ve made, if maybe you’d met a guy with good connections, someone who could introduce you to the right people. Cautionary warnings not to get involved with the wrong sort, not to get on the wrong track.

Just once, you would like to talk about if you were enjoying school, what living on your own was like, how you got along with your roommate, the fun times you had with your girlfriends, anything about your life that wasn’t somehow connected to success or keeping up appearances. But your relationship wasn’t like that. He didn’t care about these sorts of things, he never had.

You continuously swallowed down the heavy feeling of envy in your stomach when your friends talked about their parents, painting a picture of unconditional love and support that was foreign to you, telling yourself that everything was fine the way it was.

“I invited Dave to join us tomorrow,” he then told you yesterday morning, offhandedly, sipping his coffee and his eyes already glued to his phone. You nodded silently, forcing your lips into something that resembled a smile. He had mentioned someone named Dave before, an old friend from his army days that he had recently reconnected with, if you remembered correctly. It didn’t matter, really, your father’s countless acquaintances blurred into a mix of vaguely familiar faces in your head anyway. If you had mixed feelings about the evening plans before, this new development made it clear that you wouldn’t partake in the conversation much, just smile politely, sit pretty and let the grown ups talk.

Steeling yourself, you walk in, your heels clicking against the floor. After spotting your dad almost immediately and waving in his direction, you make a beeline for the bar. He was sitting alone, you think, furrowing your brow in thought. You’re running a little late yourself, maybe that Dave guy couldn’t make it? You don’t hate the idea of that.

Dave had been reluctant to come out tonight, couldn’t help the feeling that he was intruding on his friend’s father-daughter time, something that he was desperate to have more of, but Jim had insisted.

“Lots of women you could meet there!”

He had scoffed under his breath, not able to picture himself meeting someone new, going through the motions of getting to know them, opening up, adjusting his routine to someone else’s again. He could much less picture himself meeting a woman he’d be interested in at a fucking country club of all places. Eventually, the thought of another evening in his silent and empty apartment with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company made him accept anyway.

He’s drumming his fingers against the polished wooden bar, waiting to pick up the second round of beers for Jim and himself, when someone slides up to the counter beside him. He glances over, eyes focusing in on the woman who is studying the drinks menu.

He feels an inexplicable pull towards her, couldn’t look away again even if he tried. She’s beautiful, he thinks as he takes in her features in the soft warm light, lingering on the shape of her lips, before his gaze trails down her body, over the short black dress that’s clinging to her in the most enticing way. She’s also younger than him; too young, the responsible part of his mind argues. Not the kind of woman that he should be interested in meeting. He still can’t look away.

“Evening.” The greeting comes out before he can stop himself. She looks up, a hint of annoyance on her pretty face, but her gaze softens as her eyes meet his. A smirk plays on her lips.

“Hi.” Her eyes flicker down his own body and up again, something akin to excitement taking over her expression. He’s rusty, hasn’t done this in ages, but her interest is palpable, and it shoots a thrill of pleasure through him.

“I’m David,” he introduces himself. No one has called him David in… god knows how long, but it feels better than Dave in this moment, right somehow. Like he can be a different person, just for a little while.

“Pleasure,” she grins, tells him her name and shakes his hand, her eyes glinting in the warm lights of the bar. Her touch on his skin, even just his hand, is like electricity is flowing through the air between them. She feels so soft and his life has been so devoid of softness lately that he has to force himself to let go of her hand again.

Something tugs at the back of his mind, like this name should ring a bell, but he shoves the thought aside. He’s too busy picturing himself taking her home this evening, imagining how soft her skin would feel in other places, how she would look splayed out underneath him on his sheets, how her breath would sound when he–

“I’ve never seen you around here before, are you new?” her melodic voice interrupts the vivid daydream playing in his mind. She has taken a step towards him and hints of the sweet notes of her perfume are beginning to surround the air around him. It’s getting a little hard to think straight.

“I– yes. First time actually,” he laughs and delights in the way her face lights up at the sound. “You come here a lot, then?” The cliché line makes him want to cringe, but she doesn’t falter, only shrugs and lets her eyes slowly trail down his body once more, obviously wanting him to notice.

“Depends. I might be here more often if it means I get to see you.”

She reaches out until her fingers softly graze his wrist and it demands a great amount of willpower not to take her home right this instant.

The heartbeat in your chest is thrumming along to the butterflies that are erupting in your stomach. You’ve never been this bold, too shy to flirt at all most of the time, but the stranger in front of you is clouding your sense of judgment and has your insecurities flying right out of the window. His interest is written over his face clear as day and you feel an immediate pull towards him that you can’t explain.

He’s so handsome that your hands are itching to touch him more, to find out if he’s as broad and solid as is large frame suggests, if that jawline would feel as strong under your fingertips as it looks, and if his deep brown eyes would soften before you press your lips against his. No wedding ring either, you note in the back of your mind, sending another surge of excitement through you.

The fact that he seems old enough to be your father, something that your therapist would probably have a few words to say about, is only adding to the arousal that’s coursing through your veins. You want him.

You almost jump when your drinks arrive in front of you; you had all but forgotten where you are, and that you’re very much in eyesight of your actual father. Suddenly, you feel silly, reality catching up to you. Surely he was just being nice and you read way too much into it, making a fool of yourself.

“Well, I–I’ll see you around then.” You hastily grab your glass and are ready to make a run for it, when his large hand wraps around your elbow.

“Looking forward to it,” he purrs, before he takes the two beers off the counter in front of him.

Awkwardness slowly sets in when you start walking in the same direction, but it doesn’t fully hit you until you both stop at the same table, your father beaming up at you.

“Sweetheart, you already met Dave I see, that’s great. Come, sit!”

You’re frozen, stupidly blinking between your father and the man beside you a few times. The man who introduced himself as David.

David. Dave. Oh. Oh.

“Y–yeah,” you stutter out eventually and plaster a smile on your face as you take a seat beside your dad. David looks just as dumbstruck as you feel when he slides into the chair opposite from you, quietly handing one of the beers over to your dad. His friend.

Your father launches into a story about their army days together and you’re nodding along, but not one word actively registers in your brain. The conversation eventually moves on to your dad’s recent work projects, the majority of the talking done by him, with the occasional question from David, while you’re silently sipping on your drink.

The initial embarrassment of the whole situation makes you want to sink down into the ground, but still you can’t keep your eyes from flicking to David again and again. They linger on his lips, constantly in a pout that you would give anything to feel against yours, the slight shadow of stubble on his cheeks at the end of the day that you know would scratch against your skin so deliciously, the way his hand dwarfs his beer on the table, thick fingers that could stretch– No. No, you’re not going there.

Your cheeks are burning and you stare down at the tabletop in front of you.

When your gaze lifts back up, David’s eyes are already trained on you, glinting like he knows exactly what you’ve been thinking about. You reluctantly look back at your father, who’s still rambling on about some big client that he’s currently dealing with, completely oblivious to the charged energy between his friend and you.

David shifts in his seat and his leg bumps against yours under the table. You grasp your drink tighter, forcing yourself not to react in any way, but you don’t move away either. Neither does he. You shoot him a look and the hint of a smirk plays around his mouth. He looks too damn good like this, so excitingly wrong in a way that makes your pulse flutter.

It feels like you’re burning up from inside and as little attention as your dad is paying to you, you’re certain that he’s gonna notice that something is off with you eventually. You hastily scramble to your feet and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You feel David’s eyes on you as you walk away until you’re out of sight.

The cool water that you run over your wrists and splash onto your cheeks does a poor job of calming you down. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you admonish yourself. It’s certainly not more than a tiny bit of flirting to him, if at all, just some harmless fun to amuse himself probably, and you’re getting this worked up about it.

No. You need to get out of this situation. You’re gonna walk back out there, make something up about a headache and catch a cab home. It will probably earn you a lecture about politeness later in the evening, but you’ll gladly take that.

When you approach the table again, your dad is just getting off his phone, his expression already far away. You know that look all too well, being subjected to it almost daily.

“Work emergency?” you ask, without a real question behind your words.

“Yeah,” he grumbles, getting up, barely looking at you, already all business. “Sorry, I gotta get to the office, Dave will drive you home. Right, Dave?”

Your eyes fly to David and you catch him swallowing hard, but he nods regardless, lips quirking up in a forced smile. “Of course.”

You both silently watch your father’s retreating back, already speaking into his phone again. The fabric of Dave’s pants ghosts against your bare leg below the table once more. You wish it were his fingers instead.

You hadn’t anticipated to be alone with him and all the reasonable thoughts that you’ve come up with in the privacy of the bathroom are wiped from your mind. It feels like you’re buzzing, a rush of excitement thrumming through your veins, like your body knows that you’re on the brink of doing something really stupid and really fucking tempting.

“I’m sorry, about earlier,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes. He smirks, a knowing glint in his eyes as he takes in your expression. He still hasn’t moved his leg.

“I don’t think you are.”

Your stomach swoops at his words. You bite your lip. He wouldn’t be acting like this if he didn’t want you, would he? His eyes dart to your lips at the movement and darken. Fuck it.

“No, I’m not.” You pray that he doesn’t catch the slight tremble in your voice. He’s fucking intimidating and this is wrong on so many levels and you want him so badly to want you.

The tension between you is a palpable thing, almost making it hard to breathe when he leads you out of the club, his hand at the small of your back and causing you to shiver. Will he really just drive you home? Will he say something, do something, touch you more? You don’t know how to ask for any of it and desperately wish that he’ll take the reins, that somehow he already knows what you want. You have a feeling that he does.

He opens his car door for you, another thing that really shouldn’t affect you this much, before he walks around the vehicle and gets in beside you. You catch a hint of his cologne in the confined space and press your thighs together before you can stop yourself. Your heart is racing and you just know that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

He clears his throat. “We gotta stop at my place, I have some paperwork that I’d like your–” He interrupts himself, his grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles are white, “that I’d like Jim to look over for me.”

You nod, a small hum leaving your throat. The implication of going to his place has you reeling. He nods back, stealing a glance at you before he starts the car. You can’t help watching him as he drives, the subtle control that he exudes, the way the muscles on his thighs are flexing underneath the fabric of his pants. He looks over at you a few times, and you don’t have it in yourself to pretend that your eyes aren’t glued to him.

“See something you like?” he asks eventually, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“Yeah,” you answer, so breathless it’s embarrassing and you shift a little in your seat. Your dress rides up at the movement, revealing more skin, and his eyes fly down instantly.

“Me too,” he rasps.

When he stops the car in front of his building, you decide that it’s time to be brave.

“Do you want me to come up with you?”

“No,” his answer comes instantly. His tone isn’t cold, but determined, not to be argued with.

“Oh.” Your cheeks are heating up again. You hate how small your voice sounds. “I thought–”

He sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze.

“I can’t. You’re– You know why. You know I can’t.”

“I don’t care. I’m an adult, I can do what I want.”

He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Sweetheart, stop. Trust me, I want to, but–”

“Please?” You’re begging, no dignity left in you, only want want want. “Just one time. Please, David?”

His eyes fly up to your face at that. You can see the shift, the way his expression hardens, turning into something feral that has heat growing between your legs.

“Just one time,” he repeats, his voice dark with desire, no longer trying to conceal it.

His hands find your thighs, grabbing at you roughly, moving you until you’re in his lap, legs spread wide, his breath fanning against your lips. One hand is in your hair, the other gliding under the hem of your dress, his touch turning you into a trembling mess.

“This is what you want?” he growls, the grip in your hair tightening. You don’t think that you’ve ever wanted anything as much as this.

“Please,” you whine again, and he presses forward, lips clashing against yours, the kiss all tongue and teeth and desperate need and you’re melting into him.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his hands all over you now, grabbing at your dress, your skin, any place he can reach.

Your mouth travels over his cheek and down to his neck, sucking kisses and bites into his skin. The stubble scratches against your face just like you thought it would and you start working on the buttons of his shirt with trembling fingers, rolling your hips, desperate for friction. His grip steadies you, pulling down the neckline of your dress, kissing along the lace of your bra before he pulls the cups down too. A groan rises up in his throat as he cups your tits, thumbs circling over your already hardened nipples before he leans forward and sucks one into his mouth.

“Fucking perfect,” he rasps, breath hot against your damp skin. You arch into his touch and he chuckles, sucking on the bud again before he bites down, eliciting a loud moan from you. His touch travels up your thighs, leaving a burning trail behind, until his fingertips rub over the soaked fabric of your panties and you gasp at the barely-there touch.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, pressing down harder. “Already dripping for me, huh? You want it that bad?”

You nod eagerly, pushing down onto his fingers.

“Alright.” He sounds just as wrecked as you feel. He starts undoing his belt buckle and his pants and you lift up just enough to allow him to shove them down his hips.

At the first glance at his cock, your mouth falls open, a silent breath escaping you. He’s big, certainly the biggest you’ve ever had, and maybe you should think about how you’ll take all of him inside of you, but you find yourself craving him, craving the stinging stretch, craving the feeling of being as close as possible to him.

“Don’t worry.” He seems mildly amused, catching your lips in another kiss. “We’ll make it fit.”

Another shudder runs through your body at this. “I’m not worried,” you admit in a whisper.

He laughs at that, a breathless sound that you instantly want to hear again.

“Good.”

He pulls your underwear to the side and thrusts one thick finger up into your slick heat without warning. His thumb rubs around your clit and you already feel an orgasm creeping up on you. He adds a second finger, his rhythm relentless, and you cry out, grabbing his shoulders, trying to steady yourself, but it’s pointless. You’re already clenching, so close to the edge, when he pulls out of you and fixes you with a hard glare.

“Not yet. You’re only gonna come on my cock tonight, understood?”

You want to scream, want his fingers back, but you realize that you also want this authority, want him to take control, to take whatever he wants from you. It’s a heady feeling, one that you’ve never experienced before, but you’re already desperate for more.

“Okay,” you agree, and his responding smirk is enough for another wave of wetness to gather between your legs.

With one steadying hand securely on your hip, he leans over to the glovebox, mumbling about protection, but you stop him, fingers looping around his wrist.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean, I promise. You don’t need–”

He leans back, the grip on your hip tightening again.

“Fuck sweetheart, are you sure?”

You nod quickly, another “please” falling from your lips.

The grin on his face is downright feral as he hikes your dress up higher, eyes raking over your body. You’re sure that you look a mess, all intimate parts of you on display, your skin damp with sweat, your hair a wild nest. You curl in on yourself a little, but David won’t have any of that.

“Hey,” he growls, fingers digging into your thighs. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re gonna look at me and beg for it, are we clear?”

You lift your head, wide eyes searching his. Desperate to do what he asks, desperate for his approval. He’s gorgeous in the low lights, his cheeks flushed, a thin sheen of sweat covering his face and chest.

“Please,” you whine. “Please David, I need you.”

His movements turn frantic at your words, moving you around until you’re positioned just above him, your panties pulled to the side, the head of his cock nudging at your entrance, already soaking him.

“Just one time?” he rasps once more.

“Just one time,” you agree. You’d agree to anything right now.

He pulls you down slowly, beginning to part your walls. You whine loudly at the stretch. It burns, but you relish in the feeling of getting filled by him, and his responding groan has your lips pulling up in a smile.

You keep sinking down, moving until he’s completely sheathed inside you and your eyes fall shut at the overwhelming sensation. His fingers are on your chin in an instant, giving your head a light shake.

“Nuh-uh, eyes right here, sweetheart,” he reminds you, gritting the words out. He twitches inside you and you force your eyelids to open again.

“Feels so good,” you whine, your voice reduced to a broken, breathless thing, but then he starts moving and you’re not able to form words any longer.

He rolls his hips up into you and you meet his thrusts with your own movements, clinging to his shoulders for dear life. His hands are everywhere, digging into your hips, pinching your nipples, gripping your chin whenever your eyes are starting to slip closed again.

So you keep your gaze obediently on him, your eyes locked, delighting in the way his face scrunches up in pleasure, in the sounds that are falling from his lips, matching your own.

“Good girl, taking me so fucking well,” he groans, his hand connecting with your ass in a light slap. An obscenely loud moan escapes you in response and you clench around him, more wetness covering his length and your thighs.

He stills and leans back to take in your heated face and blown pupils, an amused smirk forming on his face. “You liked that, huh?”

You nod, once again unable to meet his eye.

“Hey,” he demands, his fingers grabbing your face again. “Eyes on me, remember?”

Your gaze reluctantly trails up and his smirk grows.

“So…” he drawls, slowly picking up his thrusts again, “what exactly did you like, huh? When I called you a good girl… or when I did this?”

He smacks your ass again and you grind down onto him almost instinctively. You’re burning up in shame, but you obediently hold his gaze.

“B–both,” you whisper, in disbelief that you’re admitting this to him, but you feel too good to hold back now.

“Fuck,” he growls, his movements speeding up and his grip on your hips bordering on painful, “knew you were a dirty little thing.”

Another slap lands on your skin, harder than before, at the same time that he thrusts deep into you. The combined sensations are enough to throw you over the edge that you had been teetering on since he first touched you and you scream out his name as you fall apart.

He holds your shaking body close, cock grinding into you as you pulse around him and he groans, burying his face in your neck, spilling his own release deep inside of you.

“Fucking perfect,” he whispers, mouth pressing against your skin. “Can’t believe that you let me–”

You barely make out the words, ecstasy still coursing through your veins, but you lean into him, holding onto his broad shoulders, feeling like his body is the only real thing in your world right now.

You stay like this, entangled in each other’s embrace until your breaths even out and he carefully lifts your face, pressing one more kiss against your lips. It hits you suddenly, that this might be the last kiss that you share with him. Just one time, right?

He helps you to properly put your clothes back on, supporting your weight as you slink back into the passenger seat, before he pulls his pants back on and jogs up to his apartment to gather the paperwork for your father.

Your father. His friend. Fuck. Now that the lust-induced haze has lifted a bit and you’re able to think more clearly again, the weight of tonight’s events starts crashing down on you. He would kill you. He can’t know, no one can.

Dave returns within minutes, his brow furrowed as he takes you in. You think that he clocks the growing panic that is probably written all over your face. He reaches for your hand, slowly enough that you could retract it if you wanted to, but you long for his touch, for the reassurance of it.

“You alright?” he asks softly.

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

He nods back, not prying, which you are grateful for, and starts the car, making his way over to your house. Your hand still clasped in his. Both your release and his pooling in your panties.

You only let go of him when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You don’t think that your dad checks the footage from the security cameras regularly, but it’s a risk that you’re not willing to take.

“Thank you,” you mumble, once again unable to meet his eyes. “I– I had a great night.”

He smiles, appearing more relaxed than he’d been all evening.

“Me too, sweetheart. Good night.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk up to the door.

You shower, reluctantly washing away all traces of the evening and crawl into bed. You still feel his hands on your skin, the sensation following you into your dreams.

When the morning comes, hushed promises of just one time echo in your head, but the desire to do it again, for more, is burning through your body, consuming your thoughts.

“Hey Dad,” you ask, stepping into his office where he’s brooding over documents, “I think I left my jacket in Dave’s car, could you give me his number? Maybe I can go pick it up.”

if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending in an ask – it’s really the thing that keeps writers going :)

[welikeimagines-andfandoms]

Kinktober Day 26: Overstimulation- Ivar Ragnarsson

Summary: Ivar shows his new wife just how much pleasure a cripple can give her

Word count: 2, 002

Many people would think that being wed to a prince would be a blessing, especially if he was a brave warrior as well, but those people did not have to marry Prince Ivar. Your mother had assured you that he couldn’t be too bad, but you had heard differently. The many awful stories from many people ran through your mind when you had to walk up that aisle.

Now you sat beside him at the celebration of your arranged marriage and he had still not spoken a word to you. He’d barely even glanced at you since you’d wed five hours earlier, even the kiss he had to give you was barely a peck. Although it was disappointing to have such an inattentive husband, from what you heard it was better than the wrath he could inflict on you.

Despite Ivar’s actions you still managed to have a good evening thus far, his three elder brothers being a lot more charismatic and funny than your new husband. Your previous anxieties were beginning to dull as Hvitserk and Ubbe continued to make you laugh with tales of their childhood and adventures.

While the alcohol seemed to make you feel more excited and Hvitserk and Ubbe to be more funny, it seemed to have the opposite affect on the youngest of the three, Sigurd. The more he drank the more passing comments and glares at Ivar he seemed to dish out. The other two brothers did a good job of distracting you to not notice, but the elder brothers, and unfortunately Ivar, definitely did notice.

So far others had managed to distract Ivar enough that he didn’t react as violently as Sigurd had hoped, that was until a certain comment seemed to cut just a little too deep.

“You know, Y/N, if you ever notice that Ivar is lacking as a husband, I’m more than happy to keep your bed warm in the evening. I mean hahaha I am sorry to say but he is a cripple with a cock that doesn’t work!” He loudly laughed, unknowingly embarrassing himself as he was the only one laughing.

The room stood still, most people in the large hall having heard the suggestive comment.

At hearing such a crass comment you couldn’t help but choke on your wine. It was the forwardness of such a suggestion that caused you to cough out your wine, but unfortunately Ivar thought you were laughing.

“This is my wedding, Sigurd! Y/N is my wife!” His intimidating voice boomed at his brother, startling you slightly.

“Ivar, careful.” Ubbe gently warned as all eyes landed on your table.

With dangerous eyes, Ivar snarled at both you and Sigurd before angrily hobbling away on his crutch.

Even though Ivar was apparently a brute and hot-headed, he was still your husband and you believed his reaction was warranted.

“Wait! Ivar!” You found yourself calling after him as you ran to catch up with the surprisingly fast Viking.

Ivar made you follow him all the way to your shared bedroom, his steps fast and full of understandable rage. If you hadn’t been quick enough to catch the door with your palm, it would have slammed right in your face.

Stepping into the spacious room you make tentative steps towards your rage-filled husband.

“Ivar?…” you quietly call to him.

His head quickly whips around to you, a rage-filled look etched onto his face. Before you could even attempt to calm him, he had you pinned to the door, his strong forearm digging into your chest.

“You are my wife and you laugh with my brother about me.” He angrily growled at you.

“Ivar- I-I…” You began, before his strong hand around your throat stopped you in your tracks.

Seeing your startled reaction to his anger seemed to switch something in Ivar. Though he was infamous for his rage and his bloodthirsty reputation on the battle field, you were his wife and though many saw him as a brute, he didn’t want you to despise him. Ivar had worried what you’d think of him or that he’d ruin his chance at this relationship working out, that’s why he’d been so distant.

His breathing seemed to calm, his breaths coming out in slow huffs through his nose. Though his grip on you loosened and his breathing slowed, he still had a dangerous look in his eye.

His eyes never leave yours as his hand around your throat descends. The light touches across your chest and abdomen surprise you, there was fire in his eyes but grace in his touch. As his hand makes its way to your hip, he grasps it tightly in a strong hold. Though his hold was strong, it was not violent, it was filled more with passion then pure anger.

“What my brother says about me is true, my cock does not work. Though I can not bare you a child, I can however still bring you pleasure and consummate this marriage.” He confidently declares to you.

His gaze was so intense and his voice so powerful, you had not noticed that both of his hands had moved to the neckline of your dress. It wasn’t until you heard a loud ripping sound and you were pulled slightly away from the door that you noticed where his hands had moved to. Your eyes widened and your body shuddered, but whether it was from the strength your new husband had just shown or from the sudden warmth of the fire on your exposed skin, you couldn’t be sure.

Taking his eyes away from yours, they traveled down to your now exposed breasts. His strong calloused hands began holding and squeezing them, looking upon you with marvel.

“You are a beautiful woman, and you deserve someone who can provide you with the pleasure you deserve. Let me show you how much pleasure I can provide.” He tells you, his eyes once again landing back on yours, his gaze softer now.

One of his hands leaves your breast, making its way to cup your cheek lovingly. You lean into his soft touch as he brings his face closer to yours. His lips press against yours in a kiss that is both gentle and passionate. Your tongues do not meet, but he seems to have no problem showing his passion and causing your core to flutter in excitement.

“Take off your dress and lay on the bed for me, my beautiful wife. I will show you just how much pleasure a cripple can give you.” He tells you, his forehead resting against yours as dominance returns to his voice.

Intrigue filled your body and mind as you quickly pushed off the door, the eager way you rush to remove your clothes causing your new husband to chuckle. His eyes never leave your body as new skin is exposed to him.

Finally laying on the soft furs of the large bed, you find your breathing getting heavier just from watching Ivar make his way over to you. Though he walks with support from a crutch, there is still dominance and power in every step.

Finding his place on the edge of the bed, his fingers lightly trace from your ankle to your inner thigh, goosebumps following the path of his light touch. His passion filled eyes meet yours again as his fingers inch closer to your core. Your legs instinctively bend and spread at his touch.

Taking his other hand, his strength surprises you once again as it wraps around your thigh and drags you closer to his seated spot. Your surprised yelp quickly becomes a moan as his fingers make contact with your warm wet core. He has barely touched you and already your body is alight. Dragging his fingers up and down the length of your pussy, his eyes marvel at the way your body responds.

“You’re so beautiful and you’re all mine.” He speaks softly, almost like he’s speaking to himself.

“All yours, Ivar.” Your soft voice speaks up, causing his head to shoot up, like you’re a dream he’s just realised is real.

His eyes become slightly dangerous again as his strong fingers begin to push into and circle your sensitive bundle of nerves. The way your head pushes back into the soft bed and the sweet moan that escapes your lips, drives Ivar wild. He craves to hear more of your sounds as he positions his body to be between yours legs.

Leaning down he begins to bite and kiss your already quaking thighs, desperately trying to pull more of those sounds from your gorgeous lips.

The feel of his fingers on your clit mixed with the hot kisses he leaves all over your sensitive skin is quickly pushing you to your release. You can feel your core tightening, desperate to come undone.

“Oooh-Ooohh! Ivar, I’m gonna cum!” You call out, your nails digging into his strong forearm.

“Mhmmm. Do it, my love. Scream my name and let everyone hear who makes you feel so good.” He demands, the force and speed on your clit growing more intense.

“Oh fuck! Ivaaarrr!” You scream out in pleasure as your head shoots back in pleasure and your nails dig into his skin harder.

As you lay there catching your breath, you barely register your husband manoeuvring your body to lay against his against the headboard, until you feel his fingers on your sensitive clit.

“Ooohh Ivar! It’s too much!” You pathetically cry out.

His strong arm wraps itself around your centre, holding your squirming body still. You attempt to escape the intense pleasure by closing your legs, causing Ivar to growl and bite at your neck.

“Do not deny me your sweet sounds, my darling wife. I wish to draw as much pleasure out of you tonight as your body is able to take. Be good and keep your gorgeous legs open for me.” He growls lowly in your ear.

Though the overstimulation begins to hurt slightly, you can not deny such a command.

Your next orgasm approaches embarrassingly quickly as you loudly shout Ivars names once again, your head slamming back onto his chest. Ivar chuckles delightedly at your state of overstimulated pleasure.

Once again giving you no time to come down from your orgasm, Ivar deftly thrusts two fingers into your wet pulsing pussy.

“Oh fuck!” You shout out in surprise at the intrusion.

Wasting no time, his fingers begin to curl and thrust into you as his arm holding your middle moves slightly to rub your clit. The combined pleasure of Ivars skilful fingers hitting the sweet spot inside you and rubbing deliciously on your clit is too much for your body to handle, and once again your body thrashes and scream out in overstimulated ecstasy.

“No more, Ivar, no more.” You weakly beg him, your mind feeling fuzzy and your body heavy at the way he’s now made you cum three times.

“Just one more for me, my gorgeous princess. I know you can give me one more.” He almost begs you, sweetly kissing the side of your face as his hand strokes along your inner thigh.

“Just one more.” You weakly nod to him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He excitedly chants as he kisses your cheeks and his fingers return to your clit.

The light chuckle that his sweet kisses cause are quickly cut off by a loud moan of pleasure. This being the fourth time of the night you will cum, your body takes barely twenty seconds before it is thrown into a feeling of blinding ecstasy once more.

The pleasured scream that leaves your body is animalistic as your body goes completely limp against Ivar. Breathing heavily, your eyes begin to close as you feel sleep taking over you.

“You did so well, my love.” He gently coos as he positions you under the soft furs.

His strong arms wrap around you and you feel a sweet kiss on your forehead before you fall into a blissful sleep.

[the20thangel]

The Dragon and The Raven Ch3

Chapter Summary: We will see Daemon's reactions, who does not seem happy with Aemma's news, and a surprise reaction from someone not close to Aemma's family. I hope you liked the little plot twist. 

Keep track of the story: masterlist

The next day, Princess Aemma lay on her guest bed in Raventree Hall, repeating the events that transpired the day before. She made a marriage proposal to Lord Benji-Benjicot. The Lord answered in accepting the proposal. She worried that she made her decision too hasty; at least, that is what Ser Lorent told her after the feast. Now, she knew her knight was speaking out of worry. He had protected her ever since she was a babe, but she couldn’t seem to agree; just thinking about the Lord of Blackwood made her stomach flutter, more if he graced her with his cunning smirks. No other lord or heir has ever made her feel like she was the moon… well, maybe once in the past, but it no longer matters. 

She knew that if Sliverwing had allowed someone not with dragon blood close to her, he must be someone worthy of her hand or just crazy. She giggled at the thought, for not even Cregan Stark was willing to risk himself when Jace had asked him to meet Vermax. 

A knock on the door made her rise from the bed. She found a maid there telling her that many were breaking their fast in the feast hall, including her betrothed. Aemma nodded and told the maid that she would make her way soon. Before she left, she grabbed a piece of paper and a quill. It was better to let her mother know quickly and in her own words than from someone else. 

Walking through the hall during the day allowed the princess to see the castle more clearly. Raventree Hall was glorious, with its ancient history etched in the walls. She could not help but gape at the beauty. Once she walked into the hall, everyone quickly rose to bow and greet her, which made her flush; yes, she was a princess, but she was still not used to having so many bows to her. She spent most of her life at Dragonstone and was used to not seeing many people. Scanning the room, she found her betrothed sitting at the table with his aunt as he smirked at her, eyes glistening with mischief. If she had not seen his sweet side yesterday, Aemma knew it would have bothered her. Aemma walked towards to sit next to Benji as his aunt greeted her. 

“I hope you had a pleasant sleep, princess. We apologize if something in the chambers was not to your liking,”  stated Aly as she searched the princess's face to see more of her personality. 

Aemma glanced at Benji, noticing he ducked his head and quietly at his food as Alysanne waited for a response. Aemma smiled and clarified, “The room was beautiful; your beds are quite comfortable. Raventree Hall is gorgeous, with so much ancient history; it reminds me of Dragonstone.” 

Alysanne smirked as she nodded in thanks and agreement. She turned to her nephew and noticed his ears turning red, knowing he remembered their conversation from yesterday. Before she returned her attention to the princess, she saw the princess looking at her nephew with a confused look. 

“Yes, us Blackwoods are proud of our history; our house has ancient roots, just like our weirwood tree. We came from the north before we were forced to relocate to the Riverlands, and we proudly still follow the old gods of the north.”  

Aemma gleamed at the new information; she loved learning more about the Westeros houses and their history. 

“I would like to hear more of your house’s history, seeing that we will be joining soon,” asked Aemma, looking more at Benji than Alysanne. 

Alysanne, noting the princess, kicked Benjicot to make sure the lord answered the princess. The lord of the House Blackwood, jumped from the injury and quickly glared at his aunt before turning to his princess. Benjicot gulped as Princess Aemma graced him with a small smile, waiting for his response.  

“Of course, Pri- Aemma, all you need to do is ask me,” he stated as Princess Aemma’s smile grew to the smile he so desperately came to love and started to break her fast. 

Between her breakfast, Aemma quickly wrote to her mother about last night's success, stating that Lord Benjicot and his people were grateful for her thoughts and actions. She also reassured her of her safety and welcoming environment. Ending it by saying that she had done her duty in finding a husband, she proposed her hand to Lord Blackwood and hoped her mother would accept it. Aemma was nervous, as her mother’s only surviving daughter, besides her stepsisters, Rhaenyra, was quite protective of her. She hoped her mother would understand it was not a proposal made in the spur of the moment. The ones who truly worried her were Jace and Daemon.  Jacaerys hoped she might still choose the lord of Winterfell, as they became quite close in the north. While Daemon was another story, no one seemed good enough for her and Rhaena, especially if they weren’t Valyrian blood. Aemma hoped that since House Blackwood still followed the Old gods and ways of the First Men, it would ease her kepa , but Aemma couldn’t be sure. 

After Breakfast, Aemma asked Benji if she could borrow a raven to send a letter to Dragonstone. Benji chuckled and told her there were many ravens for her to choose from, Which made Aemma flush with slight embarrassment as she glared at him—causing him to laugh more as he led her to the weirwood tree. Instead of leaves, a few ravens and crows stared at the lord and princess from the tree with piercing gaze. Benjicot knew not many people outside of his lands liked seeing so many ravens, but looking at Aemma, he saw instead of her discomfort, she was staring in awe at the birds. Guessing that being a dragon rider, not much could scare her. Confident, Benjicot raised his arm and let a raven perch on him before he turned to Aemma. Aemma, in awe, reached to pet the bird, making sure not to startle or hurt it. 

“Here, take this one; he is young and strong enough to make the long journey to Dragonstone,” Benji explained as he held the bird to his betrothed. 

Aemma gladly took the Raven and fastened the letter to its leg. Before sending him off, she turned to Benji and expressed thanks for letting her borrow a raven. Benji shook his head. 

“No, Aemma, he is yours now; think of it as my first courting gift to you,” explained Benjicot, but he was nervous. Would she like the gift? He didn’t have any fine jewelry to give her as he probably knew she has many fine riches, being a princess. 

Aemma was touched; many men thought that because she was a princess, she only wanted the best jewels to offer. In truth, this was better because it meant he truly cared enough to know her. Given how much Daemon spoiled his daughters and mother, she had all the riches she needed. Aemma felt her heart flutter, and she sent off the raven, confident, deciding to step closer to Benjicot and kiss his cheek, which reddened when he felt her lips on him. 

“Thank you, Ben. This is better than any jewelry,” Aemma shyly whispered as she gave her heartwarming smile. Benji smiled back and retook her hand to kiss the back of it.

Their comfort was, however, broken when a man came to Benji, letting him know that they had started the funerals of the men. Benji frowned and asked Aemma if she would like to go back to her chambers, but she shook her no; she would stay with him as comfort as he buried his twin and father. 

As they returned to the hall, he asked the men to carry his father and brother to the weirwood tree; he would bury them there instead of in barrows. Once they dug two holes on each side of the tree, the men lowered their bodies to the ground. Alysanne was with his father, throwing in the dirt, while Aemma and he stood by his brother. Again, looking at his brother's face on the ground made him want to weep, but he tried with all his might to hold it in. 

Aemma squeezed his hand and whispered, “It's okay to cry; it shows how much you love him…” 

With that he did, he cried for his brave brother and promised to be the best warrior and lord of House Blackwood. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 The day after, the Blackwood men went to Harrenhall to meet up with those of the Vale and the North. Aemma decided to ride next to Benjicot and Alysanne instead of meeting them there with her dragon. Sliverwing also decided to soar slowly on top of them, keeping an eye on her rider. 

The men were continually impressed with the princess; she was certainly not what they expected from her. On the journey, the men would ask Benjicot when he would display his sword skills to the princess, which only made him grin widely, but he never answered. This intrigued Aemma, who heard of Davos and Benji’s sword skills. She thought maybe in Harenhall, she would challenge him to a duel; she was trained by the Rouge Prince, after all. 

Once they were close enough to the meeting point, Princess Aemma was tired of horseback and decided to greet her father on a dragon. As she readied Sliverwing, she had an idea and turned back to where Benjicot was resting before they would continue. Once he noticed her, he smiled in greeting, asking her if she was departing. 

She nodded and answered, “Yes, but I was hoping you would accompany me on my dragon to Harrenhall.” 

The men were awed as they cheered on their lord to go for it. As Benji paled at the invitation to ride a dragon. Aemma smirked, asking a bit tauntly that she wanted to see how brave he was. This made Benji answer with a wilder grin as he foolishly or courageously agreed and followed the princess, depending on who you asked.

With that, the princess led her betrothed to her dragon, and she explained to her dragon in words and through their bond that they would have another rider. The she-dragon only huffed as she lowered herself to allow the princess and lord to climb her back. 

Aemma sat at the front, with Benji in the back; she explained that he should wrap his arms around her waist and hold on tight, especially during take-off. Once she felt his arms around her, she straightened her back and gave her dragon the command. 

“ Sōvegon , Sliverwing!” 

As the she-dragon launched herself, Benjicot squeezed the princess's waist to ensure he would not fall off. At the same time, his men cheered for him and the princess as they flew to Harrenhall. 

Once they were soaring, Benjicot took the time to take his surroundings in awe. The view was beautiful from a dragon's or raven’s perspective; he could understand why Targayens loved traveling on a dragon’s back. While Aemma was pleased, Benji took to the sky like his ravens; it was like second nature. She grew even more confident in choosing her future husband; she felt this meant their future children would also take to the skies should they be graced with dragons. 

Once they reached Harrenhall, they were greeted with a high-pitched screech, Caraxes, as Daemon Targaryen flew to greet his daughter, only to see a man sitting behind her, which made him frown. He signaled to land as Caraxes and Sliverwing flew down to land. Once he was off his dragon, he turned to see Aemma helping, which he could now see as Lord Blackwood off her dragon. The boy look at his daughter like she held the moon and stars. 

Daemon waited for his daughter to come to him, with the boy following close behind. Aemma smiled at her father as she embraced him, missing him terribly when he abruptly left after he and her mother had fought.  

“ Kepa, eman missed ao sīr olvie,” whispered Aemma. 

“Eman missed ao hae sȳrī, ñuha byka embar zaldrīzes.  Yn skoros iksis iā valītsos doing riding lēda ao va aōha zaldrīzes? Hmm… Asked Daemon as he stared at the lad who, in turn, instead of ducking, met his gaze with the same intensity

Aemma knew it was better to come out blunt for Daemon and not use sweet talk, especially once he started getting annoyed. 

“This is Benjicot Blackwood, the new lord of Raventree Hall…” she explained, pausing while staring at her father, who only raised an unimpressed brow. 

“He is also my betrothed.” 

Daemon inhaled sharply as he stared at his daughter in disbelief, then at Benjicot, his eyes narrowing like a dragon looking at his prey.

“What.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Meanwhile, in Kingslanding, the Green Council was meeting when a letter was brought to Maester Orwyle. 

“My king, forgive the interruption, but it seems that Princess Aemma has given her hand to Lord Benjicot Blackwood.” 

Sharp gasps were heard, and everyone stared at the king in tense silence, who just stared at his hands. 

After a few beats, Alicent, pale, took a deep breath and stated, “The Blacks are preparing for battle with this engagement. House Blackwood will be most devoted to Rhaenyra and her cause now that they have a princess. We must prepare and-” 

“Everyone get out,” stated Aegon, finally raising his head. His eyes were red, and Alicent saw them well with tears. 

“Aegon, we have not yet finished this meeting; we need to-” 

“I SAID EVERYONE OUT!” exploded Aegon, his face reddening as he threw his cup to the wall.

Quickly, everyone hurried out of the council room, leaving Aegon heaving as he walked back and forth, stopping at a window. How could she do this, thought Aegon, marrying a Blackwood? Had she forgotten their promise? Aegon knew he was thinking selfishly about a childhood promise and chaste kiss. When they were younger, and Aemma and her family were still living at the Red Keep. Aegon and Aemma promised each other they would love no one else. A promise to marry and love each other was sealed with a kiss, but it would not come true as he was forced to break the pledge when his mother forced him to marry Heleana. 

However, Aegon thought Aemma knew that his heart was hers and hers alone, that no matter how much he had to do his duty, his love was meant for her. When did that change? Was it when he married Heleana? When Aemond killed Lucerys? Or…. was it when he drunkenly threw a feast for his brother after killing Lucerys? Aegon sobbed as he closed his eyes. Aemma loved fiercely and was protective of her brothers.  

He never meant to cause her pain, but it seemed that was the only thing he was good at doing. He caused the break, and now his Aemma was getting married to another, and a Blackwood no better. Aemma deserved far better than some lowly lord from the Riverlands. Aegon sat in his chair as he continued to grieve over the loss of his love; he caused her to marry someone beneath her, all because he was too much of a coward to fight for her.

[unreliablesnake]

Big reputation (Simon Riley x reader)

Summary: You got injured on the field and now Ghost feels bad. Well, maybe it's not just guilt...

Note: The people have spoken. Soft!Ghost. Fluff. Short story.

In your previous team you managed to enrage a general that you shouldn’t have, and apparently kicking you out of your comfortable position was his way of punishing you. So now you came to meet your new team at the base, already having ideas of who’s who based on rumors circulating in the military. 

There was Price who was fair and relatively calm, Gaz who was loyal to the fault and was a surprisingly nice guy in general once he warmed up to you, and you couldn’t forget about Soap–whose call sign you found utterly ridiculous–who was a big mouthed but reportedly funny Scotsman. 

And then there was Ghost, the man who was a mystery to most. No one has seen his face from the people you talked to about the team, and you had a feeling you wouldn’t get to see it either. But that was okay. Him being a big and scary guy wearing a skull mask that every single person was terrified of was more than enough to make you cautious around him.

Fast forward to four months later, when Ghost became your shadow after a fucked up mission where you got hurt. It happened under his watch so he was probably blaming himself, but he never really gave you a reason why he was always near you. Soap was the one who mentioned him possibly feeling guilty, and since you had no better idea, you believed it to be true.

The big scary guy didn’t seem so scary anymore. He was more like a loyal guard dog that followed you everywhere and scared off people you didn't want to be around.

“You should go to bed, it’s late,” he said one evening after a briefing.

It was only the two of you in the room, everyone had left already, but he was going through some reports before taking them to Price. You let out a sigh and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your thighs as you observed him. He had left the room before, but after it emptied and it was only you in there, he came back with the files. Out of nowhere. Without a warning. He mumbled something about needing a quiet place, but that was a terrible excuse considering he had his room to go to.

For some reason he glanced over at you every once in a while, watching you as if there was something he wanted to say to you. But every time your eyes met, he returned his attention to the papers in front of him. He didn’t speak up and you weren’t about to bother him with questions. Ghost was usually pissed if someone asked too many questions, this is how Soap got burned a few times in the past. 

Then something changed. He closed the folder and turned his attention to you again, this time not shying away from making it obvious he was staring. You raised an eyebrow in question, hoping he would say something, but he remained silent. With a groan you stood up and walked over to him, gently pushing the folder away so you could sit on the edge of the desk next to the lieutenant. 

His hand inched closer, just enough to let his little finger brush your thigh. “It’s late,” he repeated his previous statement. 

“I’m not sleepy,” you replied with a shrug. “Why have you been watching me like this? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.”

“Then?”

Ghost sighed under the mask and pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He was toying with it for a few moments, his eyes focused on the item instead of you. “You’re causing me quite a few sleepless nights, Rabid,” he muttered as he pulled out a cigarette from the box. He called you by the nickname that awful general had given you a few months back, and you knew he never did that without a good reason. 

What were you supposed to say to that? I’m sorry? No, that wouldn’t be right. So you chose to be careful with your next words. “You can’t sleep?” you asked him, genuinely interested. 

“Not when all I can think about is you and what I’ve done to you,” he replied quietly. 

“Why, what have you done to me?”

He shook his head, mumbled something like ‘fuck it’, then pulled his mask to his nose and lit the cigarette. You couldn’t help but smile at the thought of him getting in trouble for this. Price would be angry, because he believed if he could refrain from lighting a cigar indoors, so could others. So now that Ghost was inhaling the smoke with closed eyes, you didn’t know what to do or say. He would eventually speak up, right? 

Just when you were beginning to think he wouldn’t talk to you, his amber eyes landed on you and he said, “I sent you in there. You got hurt because of me.”

Soap had been right, he really did blame himself. Interesting. “Ghost, that wasn’t your fault,” you assured him. “Shit happens, it comes with the job. Don’t blame yourself.”

His free hand moved to take yours in his, and his long, thick, and gloved fingers wrapped around it gently. “I’m not blaming myself for you getting hurt, I know it comes with the job. I just can’t stop thinking about the what ifs. What if you died? What if you got so injured you would be discharged from the force? What if you were mad at me? What if you left me behind?” This last one made you raise an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you haven’t considered this after what happened,” he told you. 

“Never thought about leaving you behind,” you admitted. “You would mind? If I left and we never met again, I mean.”

Instead of answering, he raised your hand to his lips. “You and me… That would be quite a conversation, wouldn’t it? With your reputation and mine… Well,” he said, and you could see the shining in his eyes that gave away he was smiling. 

It took you a minute to realize he was talking about the two of you being in a romantic relationship. He was right, this would be huge. You were also a lieutenant, he wasn’t your superior, but people feared you both for different reasons. Ghost was… Ghost. All he had to do was stare at someone for five seconds and they would run away screaming. You, on the other hand, were feared because you were unpredictable. One wrong word and you would be at the poor bastard’s throat. 

So yeah. If there was anything to know, people wouldn’t shut up about it. You wondered if he was aware of the bets recruits were making about you. If there was anyone from base you slept with, it would be Ghost according to most of them. Maybe they were right. Maybe that was bound to happen. But maybe Ghost was taking part in the bet for fun. 

“I don’t care about that bet,” he suddenly spoke up. You were terrified for a moment since you had no idea how he figured out what you were just talking about. “I care about you. Would you mind if I kissed you?” 

You were too stunned to respond, all you could think about was the fact he dared to ask you this. You weren’t that close, not with him keeping a comfortable distance all the time. “Right now? Yeah, I would mind. Let’s just get to know each other first, yeah? Maybe over a drink.”

Ghost placed a soft kiss on your hand. “Anything you want,” he told you with a smile before pulling down the mask and getting rid of the remains of his cigarette. 

[jockbroski34]

New Year's Resolution

Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.

I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.

I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.

I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.

He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.

"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."

I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.

"Look at yourself dude."

I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.

"You good bro?"

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.

"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"

I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.

"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."

He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.

I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.

"You feeling better, bro?"

"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."

And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.

We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.

"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."

Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.

After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.

"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.

"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.

"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"

"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.

[goldsbitch]

That one Bologna drive

part 2 to That one Christmas flight (strongly recommend reading that one first! made me so happy you guys liked this one, so let's continue!)

summary: They were suppose to not look for each other. So of course they didn't.

warnings: crushing hard, swear words I guess, typos probably

PS: y'all gonna hate me

Lando really wanted to keep his promise not to search for her online. He enjoyed the mystery and the option to keep this little encounter as a nice "why if". Until he didn't.

With the only information he had being her first name and the fact she was a student at Bologna university his private burner account was truly burning up. He must have seen every account of the current Bologna alumni. It was strange being on the other side of these pseudo stalker fan games. There were moments where he deactivated his account, to stop him from doomscrolling. And then there were nights when he did nothing but that.

He was fed up with the emptiness and shallow lifestyle that followed him. His friends were surprised, when he started to carry classical literature books with him. Since he hated those looks, decision to really keep all of this to himself had been made. It felt like a pose sometimes - he did not have to prove anything to anyone, he was fine as he was. But a strange feeling of wanting something more is hard to navigate when the life around you seems dead set in the current ways.

Weeks passed by with his eyes fixed on one moment in particular. The Imola Grand Prix. It felt like a cruel joke when he realized this circuit was a mere hour away from Bologna.

Lando was not sure if he was supposed to be proud or scared when finally found her account. At this point, it was hard to find a better expert on the social life of that university town. But it would be a massive lie, if he said he did not sprint up from his chair when he saw her in one of her friends insta story. Tagged.

He nearly DM'd her about 20 times. But, this was not the way it was supposed to feel. No. It seemed like a way better plan to ride up to Bologna and hang out at what seemed to be her favorite cafe / bar in the centre. If it was meant to be, he would run into her and it could all be called a second lucky accident.

He had an average start of the season. Maybe Imola would bring him luck one way or the other.

//

His plan was to ride up there the evening after his first practice - then the team debrief dragged until late hours. He hit the wall on the second day - his team made sure he went through all and every medical check up, no matter how much he protested. Then there was this and than that and suddenly he realized the only possible evening would be the Sunday one. He requested the latest flight him team would allow.

Finishing fourth felt like a joke, even though it was his best finish this season. Missing the podium by a mere second was a cruel of a metaphor.

Once he managed to run through all his duties, exhausted as truly was, he hit the road.

Within a half an hour, he was in what seemed her most favorite cafe, sitting on a bar stool, ordering a glass of white wine.

She was nowhere to be found. His heart jumped when her friends came in and sat outside, lighting their cigarettes. Lando waited. He had to laugh at himself, pathetic as he was right now. By his luck lately, she was probably in her bedroom sleeping, or worse - on a date with some Italian fuck boy. Going up to her friends and asking was absolutely not an option - he wanted to surprise her, not scare her and creep her out.

He left the bar after one hour for a stroll around. He walked around the lively square filled with young people sitting on the ground and having the time of their life, the one he saw hundreds of times on his screen. Who knew, maybe she'd be around somewhere. Jealousy swept over him, envying those who were fortunate enough to keep her company right now at this very moment. After one hour he was back for a second glass. But this time he heard his name being called loudly immediately as he stepped inside. All of his tired muscles tensed up in disbelief. And to continue with the theme of pure luck - it was an ordinary fan. The surprised guy with a Mercedes t-shirt insisted on a photo and signature. Lando smiled, signed and went back to his car.

He probably needed this closure.

//

Y/N was a person who prided herself on her principles. So when she and the mystery boy from that Christmas flight agreed upon not looking each other up, she kept herself away from doing so. Exam season and university life got in the way, providing a great distraction.

Only when she went on a date with what seemed to be a lovely French physics student, she allowed herself to think back to her encounter with Lando. That's when her internal facade fell apart. She spent the whole date imagining Lando would appear. He'd sit at a different table, right in her view, and then once her date would go on the toilet, they'd run away like little kids would do. They'd sit in a local park and laugh while sharing a bottle of wine. She knew he was somehow famous. He heart crushed at the thought that she was probably overshadowed by girls way prettier than her.

And then, on a random afternoon during a first study session the weather allowed her and her friends to spend outside, in one of the university gardens, one simple conversation she accidentaly overheard from the people sitting nearby, caused her to loose the last chance of keeping the meeting with Lando intact.

"Yeah, Lando Norris. Way hotter than Leclerc, I must say."

"I still don't understand why you love formula 1."

"They just know how to sell the story."

Surely, they were not talking about Lando. "Sure, there must be thousands of well known people called Lando," Y/N replied to her own question.

She took this as a sign, gave up on her principles and went full ballistic on her research. Downforce, penalties, the teams history, qualifying, chequered flag.

Since she was so deep in, keeping her obsession to herself as she had no idea with whom she could possibly share this, she might as well ask her mom for tickets money. The idea that she knew that he was just an hour away and she would miss that was simply not on the table.

Formula 1 race in an event meant for groups of friends to share their passion. So sitting there on the stand alone felt a little bittersweet. She made sure to push down any thoughts about seeing him up close again, let alone talking to him. It was something that half of the people present would try to do. And risking having him look through her, or worse - not remembering her - was not something she wished to live through.

But she cheered for him, she really did. Anytime he passed around her stand she got up, she watched him on the screen during interviews and when it became clear, he would have his best result of the season so far here at Imola, she celebrated with all those around her. Feeling proud that he was doing good. There was an electrifying energy in the air which could not compare to the times she watched races in her room on her laptop. If he had been standing near to her, she knew he would say something to beat himself up for missing a podium. And if she was standing next to him, she would tell him that he is an idiot and should also celebrate.

He looked a bit off during the interviews. Probably the crash few days ago. Y/N stayed sitting there just a bit longer than an average fan would.

Probably to avoid traffic...

part 3

______________________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @superlegend216

[charmedreincarnation]

Hey, guys! I've been receiving a ton of messages in response to my last post. It's reminding me of how I first discovered shifting. I feel like doing a little story time since Ive just passed the three-year mark of my discovery, and I've been reminiscing with friends about it.

I remember being in a very dark place when I stumbled upon shifting. I was depressed, and very suicidal. Yet, there was this unshakeable optimism inside me that I was meant for an extraordinary life. Despite my mental state, I had a lot of knowledge of subliminals and the law of attraction (-_-). These gave me hope, but they weren't enough tbh. I didn't want to attract my dream life through practicing gratitude or becoming a magnet for my desires or whatever. Nor did I want to have to listen to subliminals for years on end to achieve my goals. My list of desires was so long, and I needed everything to change that going step by step and waiting years for each one to manifest just wasn't feasible.

But I refused to give up. One day, after a particularly hard day of being sad per usual, I searched on Quora for something like "fastest most powerful subliminals on YouTube ever" (Y’all 😭😭). Among the recommended sub creators, I found a video called "Desired Life: Reality Shifting". The description promised everything I had ever wanted: waking up with all your desires fulfilled permanently in short. It piqued my curiosity so much. Could I really just wake up with my dream life, family, house, wealth, all based on my scripts and imagination?

Growing up, I was a heavy maladaptive daydreamer. From ages 10-17, I created alternate lives in my head, telling myself I would go there someday. I was always doing SATs (State Akin to Sleep), and I think that's what kept me from ending it all. I was constantly in the wish fulfilled state, even though I didn't know what that was at the time.

Back to my story, I went into the comments of that video and came across a guy who claimed that after a week of using this subliminal, he woke up with a new life as a multi-millionaire living in his dream penthouse. I messaged him, and he gave me his Instagram which showcased his luxurious life. He had what seemed like a perfect relationship, he was very attractive, had so many cars, and travelled 24/7 while having a six figures amount of followers. He was living proof that this wasn't just scripting. Also the law of attraction community is known for their mad expensive coaching.. like hundreds of dollars per hour for questions and he was answering it all for free something I didn’t see the law of attraction community. And I talked to him for hours! He never got mad, he had proof, and he was kind, proof and the behavior of someone who really had mastered the art of life.

After our conversation, I spent the next couple of months doing research. I found numerous stories about glitches in the matrix, accidental shifting, people entering parallel realities, and eventually, shifting communities on platforms like Amino and Reddit. It was stuff I already believed in and did in my imagination; I just didn’t know there was a term for it.

Then I got reminded of a memory that I had seriously repressed bc it was so fucking weird. When I was 6 and my brother was 3, we were absolutely obsessed with dodo birds. One day, we were outside playing, and on god time seemed to stop. Out of nowhere, a dodo bird appeared. I know you’re probably like “maya be so fr rn you were a kid” but no, This wasn't just our young imaginations running wild - there was a bird that was huge, dinosaur-like, exactly how dodos are described in books and pictures we had.

Then things got weirder. Suddenly it started raining eggs. Big, large eggs everywhere it was so gross and my brother and I were a mess. We were young, sure, but not stupid. We knew this wasn't normal. My brother and I rushed inside to tell our dad. When I managed to drag him outside, he was furious, accusing me of throwing eggs everywhere. To this day, he tells the story of the time I "trashed the backyard with eggs." And every time, I'm like, "Dad, where would I get that many eggs?" We didn’t have eggs but so he assumed I stole them and we went inside for hours and it was magically cleaned. So he also tells the story of how responsible I am and how I took accountability for my actions even as a child. I didn’t clean that shit bro and I tell him that too and he just laughs it makes me so mad.

My brother, who knows I'm into reality shifting (though he doesn’t really believe in it), can't explain that day either. He often shrugs it off as a "glitch in the matrix," which honestly, well no duh it is a shift dummie. He does believe in manifesting but only bc he has seen me use it and he experiences the good things I manifest as well. They’re the same thing anyways but that isn’t the point

The reason I'm bringing up this bizarre childhood memory is because during my months of research into shifting, I found countless stories of accidental shifts, people entering the void, entering parallel universes, time glitches, examples of the Mandela effect first hand, glitches in the matrix and etc. It was like uncovering a myriad of experiences that confirmed what I already believed: we can change and choose our reality. I just didn’t know the phenomena had a name. Obviously in the future I came across other things like the law of assumption, the void state, etc etc but this was where it started.

I wish I had saved all those fascinating stories, posts, and blogs. I might go back and compile everything I found because they were so real and enlightening. It will probably take forever tho if I do choose to do that, but I think it's worth sharing.

In the meantime, check out this accounts of accidental shifts that my friend shared with me this account https://instagram.com/tessicavision?igshid=OGQ5ZDc2ODk2ZA== based off the Glitch in the Matrix subreddit which is also a goldmine of people experiencing similar phenomena. It helped me make sense of my own experiences and might do the same for you.

I don’t want this to be too long and I already got to the point I think! but regardless stay curious and realize you’re really not that special. I mean ofc you are, i mean this is not some tumblr thing teens girls discovered or created and isn’t even limited to “spiritually/manifesting inclined people” I think at the beginning of my journey people talking about accidental shifts and such, inspired me more than purposeful success stories because they really have no reason to lie and they were looking for answers just like I was.

[terry-perry]

Just Business?

Pairing: Alastor x Carmine!Reader

Part 2 to this imagine

Technically Part 3 if you wish to include these headcanons

Requested by @lokis-imaginary-friend: If you’re not averse to it I had a thought while reading this….what if y/n overheard this conversation and feels as though she’s being treated as a transaction. Idk I could just see some angst coming from this for y/n followed by whatever fluff you come up with.

Additional tags: @martinys-world

Fluff will come in a later chapter (hopefully). Enjoy!

You walked home with a spring in your step. You were happy to find the perfect set of pajamas for your boyfriend. Alastor didn't require much sleep, based on the nights you spent together and he'd spend most of them watching you, lurking among the swamp in his room, or tending to the hotel. Regardless, you knew he wanted to look his best even at more casual hours like bedtime. It was great then that you found the red silk pajamas that were perfect for him, especially since you found a matching robe that reminded you of his regular attire.

It'd been about six months since you'd been together and things were going well. Now that things were public too, you enjoyed your time more freely. The fact you two were going out interested many people, with gossip of it being all over the news. Thankfully, the paparazzi weren't stupid enough to film your dates. They must've heard the screams of that one photographer who was bold enough to sneak a photo of you on a picnic date by the Lake of Fire. Alastor was sure to broadcast his torment over a rendition of La Vie En Rose as a reminder not to intrude on your alone time.

You knew the kind of man/demon Alastor was before you became a couple. You heard the stories as well as his broadcasts. You were there during the sudden disappearances of various overlords and how it coincided with said broadcasts. No sane sinner would want to risk getting involved with someone like him. Due to how more curious than afraid of him you were and how touched and important you felt whenever Alastor threatened others who disrespected you, you had an inkling that your sanity wasn't all there. That was okay with you; you were already in Hell.

Your mother approved of him as did your sisters, which resulted in another reason you grew to love him. He enjoyed spending time with your family, too, judging from how he'd come to dinner, joke with Clara and Odette, and share light pleasantries with Carmilla. You could see they were really warming up to him and vice versa.

You might not have tamed the beast, but it certainly amazed you how much of him you got to have for yourself. It was almost too good to be true.

You were finally home after spending some time at the mall. You don't know why your mother needed you out of the house but you didn't question it. She was sometimes wary of those who did business with the family and would rather let herself handle things. If she was still talking with them, you'd do your best to sneak into your room.

Upon entering the manor, however, you heard your mother say some things that made your ears perk up:

"You won't do anything unless you know it'll benefit you. It's why you're with my daughter in the first place, right?"

Her daughter? Who exactly was she talking about, and to whom? Her voice was coming from the library it seemed. You did your best to creep over and stood outside to hear more. What came next was certainly a shock:

"Y/N is quite a lovely lady with a certain sweetness and intelligence that I find endearing. If she so happens to come from a powerful family, then who am I to not want to get closer to someone who can mean a lot to me?"

You felt sick to your stomach just then. What was that; did you hear that correctly? He made it sound like you were just a pet to him - a mere plaything with a purpose.

A humiliating desire to cry swept through you, along with a small hope that your mother would put him in his place. She wouldn't take someone using her daughter lightly.

"If I were you, I'd do the same, I suppose,"

Now that's what brought out the tears.

What the hell was going on?

"You'll continue to treat her well. You'll continue to meet her, talk with her, and if it gets to that point, marry her."

Breathing became difficult as this unexpected betrayal weighed on your broken heart. Was this all just a plan between Alastor and your mother? Was this all a big matchmaking con that would lead to good benefits for them?

"You're smart enough to know that you should treat this like any other transaction."

You never thought your mother would have the gall to sacrifice your happiness for business purposes. She was always the type to lay her life on the line for you and your sisters. She did just that during the last Extermination Day when facing a team of Exorcists. To hear that the woman you grew up admiring treated you like a piece of property was too much to handle.

Let's not forget about Alastor! You actually believed he cared about you. Were all those times you went out on lunch and dinner dates, spent time with each other's loved ones, and shared intimate dances just part of a ruse to get you to fall for him? The fact you were nothing but entertainment with benefits saddened and embarrassed you because what everyone said about him was right.

You were right; this was all just too good to be true.

You now were fueled with anger and decided to use it to confront the two traitors.

"A transaction?"

Upon hearing your voice, Carmilla and Alastor turned towards the doorway where you stood defiantly with the Carmine glare on your face. Your normally well-composed mother expressed more worry than you ever saw her with. Meanwhile, Alastor kept his large grin as usual, but you could tell he was shocked due to how big his eyes were, and it almost looked too painful for him to smile.

"Y/N-"

"Is that all I am to the two of you?" You asked, blinking back tears. "A business deal - just a prize to be won? Is that why you needed me out of the house Mom? To discuss my dowry?"

Carmilla's astonishment kept her from speaking. She wanted to explain that this was simply a way to assure you a good future if you continued things with Alastor and that no harm would come to you, but she was at a loss for words seeing how betrayed you looked.

"And you Alastor!" You rounded on him next. The man you loved for half a year but now don't even know what to make of him. He's practically a stranger now. "I knew you weren't a saint, but I didn't think you'd stoop so low as to only date me for my family. I can't believe you'd use me like that!"

"Y/N," he began, getting out of his seat to go towards you with more emotion than you ever saw him, even with his smile remaining. "Sweetheart, you misunderstand -"

"You saw me as nothing but a prize," you uttered quietly, backing away from him with your head down. "You already have connections to the throne, so it's best to protect it with your connection to the biggest collection of weapons in Hell, right?"

His silence spoke to you more than any clever words he could conjure up for you. His silence spoke the truth.

You didn't stay much longer, especially since neither could bother to give you a proper response. You ran out of the house, ignoring their pleas to stay. You needed to get away and reflect on everything.

Alone.

[amyoffline]

It's done! The outline for—

—is below the cut. The goal of this project is to explore the following phenomena with as much context and nuance as I can manage, tracing our history over the past 15 years:

What about us, and what about Dan and Phil, drew in and continues to draw in a very specific audience. If they are a ranch metaphor, we are a pizza metaphor 🥗🍕🫶🏻

Why we were Like That™, by which I mean so parasocially invested in them that we became, at times, the most annoying people on the internet. Much of that reputation is undeserved, and the videos on the phandom to date have been strongly negative. So, uh, I guess I'm going to put my face on camera and (mostly) defend us.

Reblog, share in your Discord servers, reply, or send me messages/anon asks with feedback or resources if you have any! Especially if your experience being in this fandom community has been dramatically different from mine. There are TIT spoilers near the end of the outline, but I'm not tagging because certain individuals seem to be lurking over there. Thank you!

Chapters:

Full outline:

introduction

cold open

felt personally attacked by jonathan haidt's last press tour

showed up to the phrenaissance 11 months late

had an unexpectedly strong response to their new content, needed to find out why

what the hell are we doing here?

- phenomenology (academics are professionally insufferable) - research question 1: what drew the audience in? - research question 2: why were we Like That™?

what we're NOT doing here

- a strict content analysis or "wow we sucked" video - providing sources for things best left uncirculated, thank you

reflexivity (personal biases)

- american zillennial in public health - in the youtube audience by spring 2010 - lurking in the phandom on tumblr 2013-2015, back* since 2019 - fan behavior i did and did not engage in

(----): truly necessary background information, i swear

(pop) cultural trends, tech, and their intersection

- nerd/geek identity and the first online weirdos - broadcast tv & the music industry vs the internet - defining "emo" - blogging & vlogging - early internet comedy

broader social/economic trends

- so the U.S. economy collapsed in 2007 - a decade that sucked except for rom-coms and square enix games - the flip/slide phone + digital camera + mp3 player loadout

(05-8): early youtube and early phil

youtube: a great video uploader without a clear purpose

the content on the website

- crossposts, corporations, and creative/social outlets - omg guys it's amazing phil - contemporary youtube-to-legacy success: justin bieber

the audience of "early adopters"

contemporary social media sites and forums

(2009): origin story

a wild dan appears… in the comments

the global constant that is teenagers being messy online

daring my old school district to sue me

- "one town's war on gay teens" (literal rolling stone headline!) - epidemiology 101: rates of… ugh… "unaliving" oneself - ways kids cope when it seems no adults will help them

the earliest days of dan & phil

- hello internet + pinof - a chronically overexamined timeline - file deleted ---* so how big WAS the audience at the time? ---* acceptable funny/edgy language was just different

contemporary youtube-to-legacy success: lucas cruikshank

omg it's meeeeeee

- how amy & friends were using youtube - ways i was just destined to end up here - being in social environments with peers 3-6 years older

(2010): is it "twenty-ten" or "two thousand ten?"

youtube is a platform about to explode in popularity

- the algorithm before it was The Algorithm™, lost site features - let's take a trip through the wayback machine :3c - actual dan & phil content in 2010 - the green brothers found vidcon - contemporary youtube-to-legacy success: darren criss

social media: also about to explode in popularity

- facebook was cool at the time, believe it or not - law of equivalent exchange: 2010 amy cringe compilation - the birth of instagram and pinterest - youtube slash livejournal (the first phanfics… sort of) - shockfic and its place in the overton window

the beginning of "the great rewiring" as haidt calls it

- ways social media is about to dramatically change - third spaces become online spaces - confounding variable: changing expectations of teens

(2011): the end of an era, the start of an age

a very long tangent on fandom and pop culture

cultural exchange

counterculture and teenagers as concepts

the first british invasion: the 1960s

- beatlemania and its descendents - moral panic about the virtue of tween/teen girls - tv/film/fashion trends being imported from the uk - in parallel, star trek births the modern fandom

the second british invasion: the 1980s

- synth/new pop that came out of the punk movement (hi, emo?) - confined mainly to music and fashion - cool britannia

it's harry freakin' potter

- absolute titan of pop culture influence - the rise of online fandom: examining the horrors ---* what is "wank" ---* flaming, sockpuppeting, and general cyberbullying ---* censorship: ffnet purges, boldthrough, & strikethrough ---* other fandom shenanigans of the time (yaoi paddles, anyone?)

harry potter's over. now what?

- for those who needed coming-of-age hero's journeys ---* twilight and YA dystopia waiting in the wings ---* some pretty iconic tv shows start or hit their stride ---* the mcu's phase one ---* takeaway: the rise of "geek culture" generally - for those who just wanted to go to hogwarts ---* doctor who & the wider world of bbc programming ---* british vloggers, you say? where? on youtube? brb--

end tangent, back to your regularly scheduled programming

dan & phil in the first half of 2011

- a continuation of 2010… for now - the videos - british pancakes as a case study of bad fan behavior

streaming and social media

- the birth of snapchat, twitch, and younow - netflix starts developing original programming - multi-channel networks (mcns) - digitour

dan & phil in the second half of 2011

- and they were roommates (omg they were roommates) - fantastic foursome - youtube glitches out - the super amazing project - the first proper baking video + wait, is that the bbc?

~ baking interlude 1: christmas cookies ~

the family sugar cookie (sorry, delia)

amy's 2011

(2012): why is anyone nostalgic for this

the transition from desktop to mobile

- massive growth in smartphone ownership 2011-2015 - things one might do on mobile one might not do on desktop - non-online ways smartphones changed being a youth™

what is tumblr and why is my child using it

- how the site is meant to work - fandom, memes, aesthetics, and SOME public figures - want to be anxious and depressed in peace? come to tumblr - this site seems a little……… gay ---* tumblr's very queer, very neurodiverse userbase ---* legacy media representation in 2012: bad! ---* actual academic research on tumblr users (yes, it exists) - the tumblr experience for non-native english speakers

amy becomes a vibrating mass of panic and paranoia

- in context of the above - additional rant about the american public school system

the growing dan & phil audience

- investigating the origin of the term "phannie" - more collaborations = more viewers - more video uploads = more /invested/ viewers - younow and interacting with fans - watch time replaces clicks in the algorithm

online etiquette, or lack thereof

- mid-transition from the 2000s to the 2010s - "professional internet celebrity" is still basically brand-new - lack of boundaries - various ways to be an asshole online - unsupervised kids simply do not engage in best practices

the end of 2012

- dan and phil move to london - wikipedia vandalism - tiptoeing around a top contender for the phandom's greatest sin - super amazing project DONE, now it's BBC RADIO TIME

(2013): arguably the most important year

- wait. what's that six-second video platform over there--

[amy's curated vine compilation]

- a new wave of internet comedians (read: future youtubers) - the zillennial lexicon - other platforms start emphasizing short-form video content - magcon

emo is BACK - well, sort of

- fob hiatus ends, mcr breaks up. my god. you had to be there - more open ties to nerd/geek culture than in the 2000s - these things once again intersect at dan and phil

dan and phil in the first half of 2013

- siri, what's a "sex symbol?" why are you booing me i'm right-- - d&p are everywhere - radio shows, interviewing, hosting - youtube uploads on their individual channels

rapidly changing cultural attitudes towards queerness

- gay marriage will be legal in places other than canada soon - a lot of assimilationist rhetoric though tbh - parallels to the pop feminism of the decade

hey kids, let's talk about compulsory heterosexuality!!

- what is it and why do people do it - academic, tumblr-level, and anecdotal research - the dannies, the phillies, and the phannies

amy

- the closet™ - mental health stigma - 2013 dnp posts from my main blog

dan and phil in the second half of 2013

- subscriber milestones, vidcon - joint content before the gaming channel - phandom starts having a major presence outside tumblr

(2014): achievement unlocked!

it's time to talk about rpf

- definitions (a chance to be annoyingly pedantic) - academic perspectives and fan discourse on the ethics - when the subjects clearly aren't fine with it - so… we can acknowledge "shipping phan" was different, right? ---* sometimes the subjects are fine* with it, actually ---* how dan and phil started to handle the shipping ---* obvious differences between phan and other rpf ships ---* sharing my favorite passages as a first-time phanfic reader

dan and phil in 2014

- wikipedia vandalism 2: electric boogaloo - bbc request show → internet takeover - the 7 second challenge - youtube content, subscriber milestones, rewind - cons and award shows

tumblr reaches the peak of its influence

- yahoo's attempts to monetize the userbase - buzzfeed and aggregators steal our jokes and bait our clicks - legacy media dangles carrots and uses us for free marketing - the legend of korra breaks TV precedent, almost out of nowhere - the tumblr user experience ---* on mobile, without xkit ---* on desktop, with xkit ---* 2014 dnp posts from my main blog

gamergate and its long shadow

- trolling, renewed and revamped - algorithms push increasingly extreme content - the broad conservative backlash conglomerate - increased normalization of conspiracism in general

my greatest sin [not clickbait] [very funny]

- so, circling back to comphet… - the actual story

anyway, let's talk about danandphilgames

- a star is born: dil howlter - different types of gaming content on youtube at the time - why did 17yo amy not subscribe? well…

~ baking interlude 2: chocolate cupcakes ~

make your own frosting. it freezes well

roasting myself further

(2015): it's not queerbaiting when it's real people

facebook "pivots to video"

- mark zuckerberg lied. water is wet - causes other platforms to REALLY double down on video - the birth of musical.ly - corporate-branded creators (read: future youtubers)

queerbaiting enters mainstream public consciousness

- academic origins - early fannish and acafan writing - johnlock, destiel, and sterek - statistics 101: type i error, type ii error, and queerbait

dan, phil, and the phandom

- bbc, cons, & the brits - danandphilcrafts - phan conspiracies ---* japhan ---* body language experts ---* timeline truthers ---* floor plan investigators ---* no but seriously imagine it - regular youtube uploads ---* solo content ---* joint content ---* subscriber milestones, rewind - tatinof uk and tabinof ---* on "selling out" ---* revisiting the statistics 101 lesson: now with real people! ---* never meet your heroes (unless they're dan and phil)

amy's (temporary) exit from the phandom

- it's legal adulthood with a steel chair!! - growing discomfort with some fans' behavior - 2015 dnp posts from my main blog - the closer: final fantasy vii

(2016): season finale

vine's imminent demise

- content platforms behaving badly - content creators behaving badly

youtube after "the great rewiring" (as haidt calls it)

- version 1.0 of the modern youtube algorithm ---* deep neural networks for dummies ---* what's holding creators accountable, or not - advertising and sponsorships ---* basically every child and youth™ is watching now ---* the battle for our attention ---* regulators start to crack down on undisclosed ads - the rise of drama/tea content (and later, channels) ---* youtubers are now seen as regular celebrities ---* dan and phil as the butt of other youtubers' jokes ---* baiting the phandom for engagement

tatinof us and aus

- a proven new model for live show tours - show & documentary released to youtube red (now premium) - [sigh] the tour bus

sea change in online fandom

- the newer, sometimes queerer media in korra's wake ---* better and more representation in live-action tv shows ---* voltron (i'm sorry!!!) ---* the mystic messenger craze ---* alice oseman & heartstopper - the new dynamics of #discourse ---* proship is to anti as phannie is to phanti ---* the bad behaviors of the 00s get a new coat of paint ---* new, though: fans harassing creators ---* a personal note on ace discourse

dan and phil presence off-tour

- the internet takeover ends - regular content, subscriber milestones

so. uh. current events.

- brexit - sorry the united states is a font of chaos - ripple effects

closing out the year

- amy finally gets an anxiety diagnosis and treatment! hurray! - dapgo, rewind - bbc radio awards & the boncas - gamingmas

(2017): time for a rebrand

tangent - sit down!!! buckle up!!! today's lecture is on PSIs & PSRs!!!

"parasocial" as defined by the current zeitgeist

- summing up youtubers' and laypeople's opinions (not dan's) - an unfairly negative stance overall, imo

older academic literature

- the 1956 paper (yes, 1956) - with traditional celebrities - with fictional characters

current academic literature

- with youtubers and other content creators - positive effects on the audience - negative effects on the audience - broader societal implications

fandom spaces as a parasocial experience

- parasocial and truly social interactions with each other - phandom as a supportive, welcoming space for oddballs - what research i can find about neurospicy folks, + anecdotes - me and everyone else on planet earth move to discord

inherent transactionality

- the nature of celebrity - positive effects on creators - negative effects on creators

reexamining early phandom through a parasocial lens

- the good, the bad, and the ugly - the role audience demographics played in all of this - entering, exiting, and remaining in the phandom

end tangent, back to your regularly scheduled programming

vine is well and truly dead

- some had prepared to become primarily youtubers (smart) - some move to musical.ly, insta, facebook, or snap (less so)

the sun sets on danisnotonfire

- i am very normal about dan's hobbit hair, i swear. - the last dnp content before the rebrand - new apartment, new floor plan investigations

adpocalypse now

- youtube has become the village elder of platforms ---* increased scrutiny, increased responsibility ---* some youtubers had been getting away with !#$!#@% - the scandals ---* pewdiepie + logan paul ---* elsagate and being "family- friendly" (read: ad-friendly) - censorship and monetization ---* adsense revenue goes down as advertisers pull out ---* the glory days of posting whatever and making bank are over

amazingphil and ~daniel howell~

- youtube & younow content - that week in march - vacations and conventions - conjoined baking and the concept of a "soft launch" - daniel & depression → dan as a mental health advocate - truth bombs, ii announcement, rewind

(2018): the phandom vs the hiatus they told us not to worry about

interactive introverts

- "giving the people what they want" - in hindsight… - let's talk about dnp fans from the global south

youtuber burnout

- it wasn't just dan: (more examples than header fits) - the old model was simply not sustainable - newer contributing factors - research on burnout, plus personal anecdotal experience

other dan and phil content

- younow/rize lives - dan's last videos before… you know… - phil's solo content in 2018 (quiff!!) - pinof → wdapteo - the gaming channel

other stuff happening online and in the world

- youtube raises the barriers to monetization - many "pivot to video" creators are now independent - the modern youtuber's multiple streams of income - continuations of societal trends in 2016 - musical.ly becomes tiktok - notable: she-ra and the princesses of power

the hiatus™: part myth, part reality

- how long dan was actually offline - major confounder: tumblr implodes almost overnight - major confounder: perception of content density from '13-'16 - major confounder: rapidly maturing audience - major confounder: our temporal awareness is about to go way ↓↓

~ baking interlude 3: scotcheroos ~

minnesotans and their obsession with "bars"

amy has one last existential crisis (you know, to date)

(2019): demolishing the closet with a nail bat

phil videos in the first 5 months of this very important year

basically i'm gay

- my thoughts - its legacy in the canon of "coming out" stories - multiple things can be true at once

coming out to you

- my thoughts - its legacy in the canon of "coming out" stories - why phil waited (actual explanations, speculation)

amy's 2019

- return to the audience, not really to the phandom (rip tumblr) - strange coincidence that i also had a major life transition

dan and phil: still here, freshly queer

- twitter becomes the main nexus of phandom, by default - regular phil uploads + brief return to younow - vidcon

(2020): go home and stay there

so it's a goddamn global public health crisis

- infectious disease perspective - effects on overall well-being of adults - effects on kids and teenagers (sorry to all of you) - political and economic impacts

hitherto unforeseen levels of online content consumption

- tiktok replaces basically all short-form video content - yet another wave of new (otherwise unemployed) youtubers - you're watching a video essay. these got really popular now. - being young and isolated: thoughts from younger phannies

the Content™ bc that's the one word we use for this now

- phil's videos - when dan is around - that attitude magazine interview - pour one out for the phil solo project(s) the panini wrecked

further political disaster… avoided?

- checking in on the state of social issues previously discussed - unfortunately,

(2021): welcome to the 2020s, we have lingering trauma

THE PHOUSE?!?!?

- social media posts - the stereo shows

other dan and phil videos

- phil's solo videos - gay and not proud - hometown showdown - other joint videos - phil's #shorts (sounds normal in american english)

panini updates

- vaccines soon, uwu??? + entrenched misinformation - pros and cons of remote work - pros and cons of remote school - pros and cons of remote socializing

you will get through this night

- younger me really could have used this book too, dan - thoughts as a professional in a related field - reflecting on some of my more unique circumstances

daring my old school district to sue me (again!!)

- updates: racism and transphobia - updates: right-wing freaks take over the school board again - residents vote against improving mental health resources

(2022): dan returns (still not on fire)

hey so politics are um getting worse

- americans lose the right to reproductive freedom ---* the quickest of histories on where these freaks came from ---* this shit kills people. - trans kids become the punching bag of culture war discourse ---* fuck off! (gently) ---* fuck off! (i have a knife) ---* checking in on terf island

we're all doooooooooooooooomed

- dystopia daily my beloved - the style, the substance, the metatextual analysis-- - not everyone loved it, though. why? - the promo - dan on tour + sister daniel

amy's 2022

- i got covid - then i got long covid: brain fog, pots-like symptoms

some more news (i will work on my warmbo impression)

- dan joins tiktok + danisnotinteresting uploads - phil: uploading less, busy doing remote crisis management - twitter is acquired by an idiot jackass - heartstopper on netflix! ---* the show and what it means to people ---* drama (revisiting "real people can't queerbait") ---* why this has anything to do with the phandom

~ baking interlude 4: cinnamon rolls ~

- lovingly, recipe changes and corrections :) - if i have an opinion about anything, it's sweet yeasted breads

(2023): the phrenaissance

phil

- joins tiktok! - youtube uploads through september - what even is phannie tiktok. i've never used this app. help.

dystopia daily b-sides

- dan memes of 2022 - the 2023 dystopia daily episodes

amy: the doctoral candidacy process

- purgatory, privilege, poverty, and free pizza - checking in on what this is like outside the united states

pretending the panini is over

- complaining about post-adpocalypse censorship standards - honest take about "giving up" on covid - who gets the short end of the stick

the youtube algorithm is BAD and UNINTELLIGENT, actually,

- unhinged rant about not hearing about the gaming rephrival - because i was offline from other platforms. like, @amyoffline.

pov: you are a phannie (not me) on october 15th

- what i was doing on october 15th - saying goodbye forever, spooky week, and november - gamingmas - phil uploads through december

(2024): fifteen years of terrible, terrible influence

hey what the fuck is going on

- dan and phil ---* joint and phil videos ---* jokes they never would've made ten years ago ---* a collection of emotional posts about how far they've come ---* people want fun and silly content again. we'll get to why ---* nostalgia, hope, and other warm and fuzzy feelings - the phandom ---* ancient parasocial attachments, reactivated instantly ---* people are way more normal now. let's discuss why ---* tumblr vs twitter vs tiktok phandom

we're all doomed, youtube version

- my thoughts - thoughts on "dan should/shouldn't" do video essays - i can't objectively evaluate anything he makes bc [gunshots]

terrible influence tour

- legally phlonde - the concept: healing one's inner child / taking it back - we gotta talk about phannies in the global south again - no but seriously imagine it? ---*ogres are like onions, they have LAYERS ---* [placeholder for whatever does(n't) happen]

anglosphere current events once again

- the likely us tiktok ban - the tories get fired - [placeholder for whichever hell americans manifest] - witnessing genocide and feeling powerless

ffx full-circle moment to the intro of this video essay

- the night i found out they came back - why i am doing this, now with context - reflections on a nearly 15-year (parasocial) relationship

whatever youtube uploads we get during fall/december

AMY SEES TIT (nov 14)

- the vibes at the phamily reunion - buying merch to apologize for eternal ublock origin use - how much should i document?? (not during the show) - phanspiracies confirmed - atlanta confessions - favorite bits - the alternate universe where i went to tatinof and/or ii

(2025): the horrors persist, but so do we

whatever 2025 content is out while i'm still working on this

our parasocial social club

- let me be philosophytube for a second ---* every interaction has a parasocial element ---* what are we obligated to do as a phandom, actually? ---* as people who parasocially care about these two dorks? ---* what else should we be doing socially to be at our happiest? - "they're my gay uncles" vs "i'm a little in love, even now" ---* riffing about the boundary/overlap between these camps ---* sibling reads me for filth in a single text (sister daniel...) ---* at least we're all in this together

what's going to continue to draw people in

- grown adults drawing our cat whiskers back on - updates on queer/nd kids - updates on anxiety/depression rates - updates on tech and the broader environment of content - world still feels doomed

tangent - the "hard launch" and why people want it

what are people referring to, exactly

- general definition and other examples - when it comes to dan and phil - maybe they hard launched already and we just missed the memo

the ludonarrative of phandom

- if you got here early on - if you got here in the mid-2010s - if you got here after they came out - if you got here post-hiatus - final fantasy comparison: ffvii's chokehold over first-timers

a rom-com for the ages

- the tropes in play - brief tangent on the evolution of the genre - queer romantic comedies - final fantasy comparison: ffviii's plot and squall/rinoa

phriends… or…

- wholesome influence, slice-of-life - projection - final fantasy comparison: ffxv's gameplay loop, the chocobros

humans don't like ambiguity

- from a media perspective (narrative tension) - research from the hard sciences - final fantasy comparison: fanille ---* the first gay final fantasy characters, actually ---* ffxiii's character development process ---* fang and vanille in the text. brb, clawing at the walls ---* so, if anyone is looking for a phyuri au prompt…

tl;dr: reality is not fiction. make peace with not "knowing"

end tangent, back to your regularly scheduled programming

the phuture

- phil's big solo project when??? - dapg is just the joint channel now - youtube has changed since when dan last "regularly" uploaded - nothing lasts forever, and that's okay

~ baking interlude 5: ranch + pizza ~

- ranch propaganda and ranch metaphors - showing off my dough and sauce skills

conclusions

- a lot has happened in 15 years - [placeholders: don't write your conclusions before you do your research]

Proof this project can only be done in consultation with Tumblr: no other platform we're on could accommodate a post of this length and formatting detail lol